#maybe we could all watch together or something ..

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table.

So... scrambled eggs with parmesan. Cool. And it only took him 2 mental breakdowns (from reader) and infinite audacity from bucky to finish it. 😂

“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”

Baby boy is out here living his best fangirl life. He already has his WIP out as a checklist for this relationship. 😂😂😂

“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”

He read all the YA books he could get his hands on and treated them as manuals. Too bad R is an unwilling participant in all of this. Babe, this is not the wayyyyy 😭

Hold You Tight: Part 4

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5

Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.

“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.

“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.

“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”

You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?

“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”

You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.

Did Bucky care about your distress at all?

You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.

How and why did he work for him anyway?

His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.

The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.

He won.

“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.

Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”

A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.

“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”

The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.

You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.

“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?

“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”

You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”

“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”

You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.

“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”

“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.

“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.

“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”

You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.

He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”

“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”

“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”

Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”

“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”

“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”

He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”

You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”

“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.

The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.

Either way, you were his pet.

“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.

“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.

You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.

“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”

His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.

“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.

He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.

“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”

As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”

His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”

“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.

A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.

“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.

“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”

“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.

You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?

It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.

“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”

He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”

The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.

Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”

“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”

You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.

“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”

You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.

“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”

“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.

“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”

Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”

“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”

It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”

“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?

“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”

He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”

“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.

“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”

“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”

“Careful. I just might scratch you.”

He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”

He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”

He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.

“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”

You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.

Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.

“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”

Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.

Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?

Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.

“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”

You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.

But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.

“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”

You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.

Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[melosliving]

Can you do something where the reader and Aaron are married and she does the I can’t pay the mortgage this month trend on him.

omg my first askkkkk !!! I hope you’ll like it ! this is such a good idea actually let me cook

aaron pierre x wife!reader

you can’t pay the mortgage this month…

Sitting on the couch, you cradled your baby boy, humming softly as his tiny hand clutched one of your fingers. The late afternoon sunlight spilled into the living room, casting a warm glow on the pretty family photos lining the walls. Aaron was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up as he chopped whatever it’ll be for dinner. You watched him from afar, smiling at the sight of him softly singing to himself.

"Alright, papa," you whispered to your son, adjusting him in your lap. "it’s been a long time since there’s been a little drama with Daddy." Aaron turned around, catching your gaze. "What’s that smile for?" he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Nothing, you just look very good doing things I normally do," you replied innocently, standing up and walking toward him. Your son rested on your hip, his chubby cheeks rosy from the warmth of the room.

Aaron dried his hands and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "How’s bubba doing?" he asked, gently tickling your son’s belly. The baby giggled, his laughter filling the room.

"He’s good, I think he’ll nap soon." you said, pressing your lips together to suppress a smile. "Actually… I need to talk to you about something. Don’t be mad." Aaron straightened up, his playful expression softening into concern. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "I can’t pay the mortgage this month," you said, lowering your voice. Aaron blinked, his brows knitting together in confusion before he smirked. "Oh no. I guess I’ll have to call the bank and let them know that my freeloader wife can’t pay her nonexistent share."

You laughed, nudging him with your free hand. "Freeloader? Excuse me, I literally birthed your child!"

"And I pay for the roof over our heads, so we’re even, right bubba ?" He winked, going over you two before taking your son in his arms. "aaron, I’m serious," you said, your tone laced with mock frustration.

He tilted his head, squinting at you. "baby, you don’t even pay the mortgage. I do."

The room fell silent for a beat before you burst into laughter, unable to keep the act up any longer. Your baby boy clapped his hands, joining in the joyful chaos.

Aaron shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?" He leaned in, stealing a kiss. "I knew you were up to something."

"Maybe," you teased, walking away but before you could, you stopped yourself and went towards your husband, pinching one of his ears. "Never say we’re even ever again, boy. I pushed a human being out of my vagina and I know your scary ass could never. Are we clear ?" You tease, being all up in his ears just like the way he hates.

"Yes, ma’am." He answers, face twisting in pain before releasing a light laugh when you let him go, leaving your boys in the kitchen. "I love your mummy, even when she’s a crash out." He whispers to your son, smiling.

"aaron I’ll beat your ass ! Don’t play with me !" Your voice is heard as you’re going up the stairs. "I love her though, very much," he says back to your son, who is only trying to grab his daddy’s ears just like you did before.

"I love you too papa !" You say up the stairs.

@ melosliving 2025

[tsukii0002]

I'd like to request a situation where the brothers react to MC doing that trend about girls calling their boyfriend "husband" in front of people. For example

*MC and a bother (any) are at a restaurant and a waiter has come to take their order*

MC: so I'd like this and this, and my *husband* (pointing at the brother) would like-

The brother: *melting inside and panicking*

Then they'll bug MC for the entire day, maybe even week

<3

Hi! , thanks for the suggestion, I loved thinking about these situations. I hope you like it.

Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.

Lucifer

You had invited Lucifer to the human world, to one of your favorite coffee shops where you were already known, to give the eldest of the brothers a break. When the waitress approached you, she recognized you immediately.

Waitress: Hello Mc! Good to see you, who is with you today?

Mc: Hi, this is my husband.

The only thing that changed in his expression was a slight blush on his cheeks, but from under the table he reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. The waitress smiled mischievously and after leaving the menu she left. Then Lucifer's face colored more and he caught you in his arms. You could see the adoration and embarrassment on his face.

Lucifer: Should we stay here for a few days my spouse?

Mammon

You had gone to the cinema with Mammon, he was a bit discouraged because he had just lost money at the casino, so although he had accepted he was rather quiet. You went ahead to order the drinks.

Employee: What are you going to order?

Mc: Oh, I'll have the demon combo and for my husband the spicy combo.

You saw how the demon's skin bristled, as if an electric shock had hit him. He looked at you wide-eyed, his face very red, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. You paid and went to the screening room, he kept covering his face the whole time.

Mc: *smiling* Is something wrong?

Mammon: You... *still blushing* say it again…

Mc: What do you want me to say again husband?

Mammon: *shyly* Don't forget it ok? *hugging you tightly* I'm your husband and you're my spouse.

Levi

A package had arrived for Levi, he asked you to take it even though he was following you very closely. The delivery man didn't seem sure it was yours.

Delivery man: Is it for you?

Mc: No, no, it's for my husband.

You could feel a high-pitched squeal. Levi felt his body stop working, and soon he was a mess, opening and closing his mouth trying to say something with no success. He had to have misheard, there was no way you could have called him that, was there?

Levi: A- Aaa… *stammering* Are you serious???

Mc: Of course.

Levi: For real ???? Are you sure??!!

Mc: *laughing* Yes xrubbing his nose* now could my husband help me with this????

Levi: New achievement unlocked!!!! You have been promoted to husband!!! *looking at you with crystalline eyes* I promise not to disappoint you… spouse…

Satan

Satan had asked you to accompany him to an event, the place was full of the demon's acquaintances and he was so busy greeting them all, that you ended up talking to one or twi.

Random Demon: Where do you know Satan from?

Mc: Oh, he's my husband.

Satan, a few steps away from you, kept talking for a moment and then stopped, turned very slowly to look at you with an expression of being very afraid that he had imagined those words. But when you smiled, his face instantly flushed. Trying to remain calm, with trembling hands, he ended the conversation quickly and approached you, taking your hands.

Satan: You…

Mc: Is something wrong *grinning*, my husband?

Satan took a breath while looking at the ground ashamed, all the demons nearby were watching. He let the air out and slowly pulled himself together while hugging you.

Satan: Nothing is wrong *smiling* spouse, let's enjoy this evening.

Asmo

You were out partying with Asmo, and, as usual, your demon was already surrounded by fans and admirers. Everyone was clamoring for his attention and it was clear that Asmo enjoyed the attention he was getting, so you simply smiled when a demon approached you.

Demon: Asmo is your friend right?

Mc: Asmo? *raising your voice* he's my husband.

Asmo's cheeks lit up and his whole body seemed to glow even brighter. He brought his hands to his face, everyone was impressed, the confident Asmo was beautiful but the embarrassed Asmo was an equally pleasing sight. You walked over and held out your hand.

Mc: We should go home *smiling* husband?

Asmo rushed into your arms and started kissing you, while the color in his cheeks became more and more accentuated.

Asmo: What have I done to deserve you? I love you so much Mc.

Mc: Just that?

Asmo: *shaking his head* I love you with all my being… spouse.

Beel

Beel had offered to accompany you on some errands related to the sorcerers' society. While you were talking to some of them he was watching you carefully. But some of those eyes were fixed on him.

Sorcerer: Is he…? You know…

Mc: Oh? Beel? He's my husband.

The eyes of the sorcerers opened wide while Beel, took a few seconds to assimilate your words and immediately became very red, He looked at the ground did not know where to look. His hands were moving without finding a position and he had started to sweat.

Mc: Isn't it true?

Beel slowly looked into your eyes before looking back down at the ground, with that embarrassed puppy face, as he nodded silently, but with a big smile. You moved closer and he put his arm around you protectively as he leaned down to caress your cheek with his own.

Beel: So if I'm your husband… that makes you my spouse, right? *radiant smile*

Belphie

You and Belphie were lying in the attic, Belphie was half asleep while you were on a video call with your friends in the human world.

Friend: Oh Mc, is someone there?

Mc: Yes, this is Belphie *showing him with the camera* My husband.

Belphie's sleep faded instantly, and he looked at you with wide eyes, you smiled at him while your friends screamed in excitement, then he pouted a little while his cheeks lit up.

Friends: Why didn't you tell us any-

Without thinking he snatched the phone from you and cut the call, hiding in the crook of your neck. He squeezed your hand and looked at you, looking angry but unable to hide his embarrassment or excitement.

Belphie: So I had a spouse and I didn't know about it?

Mc: I don't know...*pushes his bangs aside* maybe I was wrong?

Belphie: No *hugging you tightly* only I am your husband, and you are going to have this husband forever… remember that.

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Hi, I realized that I had a few finished requests that I had left in drafts *internal scream* 🙃 how can I be so forgetful!!?? I will upload them during the next few days, so I'm really sorry to those who asked for them. Another thing is that I was extending the situations as the brothers are passing, well Lucifer is the most popular (?) so it's fine 🙄.

If you've read this far thank you very much 🩷.

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[melminli]

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

[scoutofmymind]

hey loved your fics you are incredibly talented. i have a scene picture some angst reader is kinda like jo march if u watched little women and luigi is laurie in that one hill scene. basically reader prioritizes acads because of her upbringing - high achiever, academic validations, the whole package and luigi somehow is the same but he compels the reader in a magnetic way because luigi gets to be so carefree and awesome about it and turns out luigi and reader have a common thread and it's turning out rlly good but then reader is slightly scared of commitment in a relationship dare i say? because it was all acads for reader even though there were dreams of having a relationship, it all seemed abstract and unreal!! and the angst comes when luigi confesses to reader and reader reacts very defensive i suppose spitting out word vomit enumerating reasons why luigi shouldnt like her and how he's too good for her and luigi just shuts reader up by pinching their cheeks and holding them steady saying i want you all of you all that sweet stuff...this is just a thought i want to say i admire you heavily your writing is pivotal

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, pining, best friends, purest love, summer, unrequited, lowkey gut-wrenching (sorry)

W.c: 6,843 (I could not stop writing)

Notes; Before we begin, I have to say, anon, I very much enjoyed writing this!! And thank you so much for sending me this request! ✨ there are only a couple bits of dialogue that match the hill scene, but I wanted to throw them in there!

This is lowkey a mini-fic, so enjoy!

Side note: If anything is badly edited, I will likely come back to do some cleaning up. But maybe not. Also I’ve started picking songs to include in requests wherever they may fit in. I want to mention too that backstory is something I just simply can’t leave out when it comes to angsty or emotional scenes, so I’m sorry I literally can’t shut up.

The cicadas weave their summer hymn through the gentle lap of water against stone, your body stretched across whisper-soft grass beside the reservoir.

This spot holds years of you both — echoes of skinned knees and bruised elbows soothed by cool spring water, of childhood dares and teenage secrets.

"You never swim with me anymore." Luigi's voice carries no accusation, just a quiet observation that somehow makes it worse. You can picture his expression without looking —that gentle, knowing thing that always sees too much. "All you do now is torch yourself in the sun."

Your back peels away from the grass, elbows bent to prop you up. Through his borrowed sunglasses — because of course you forgot yours back at the house, and of course he had a spare —you study him.

He's summer personified: water-darkened hair curling at his temples, shoulders golden in the early evening light, wearing a smile easy as breathing.

"I just don't want to get my hair wet, Lu." You say it with the comfortable certainty of someone who's had this exact argument a hundred times before.

"Well, don't then." His retort is quick, familiar. He moves through the water with an easy grace that somehow makes the old reservoir look more inviting than it ever has, though you'd never admit it.

Your shoulders are painted with freckles from all these summer days — chasing chickens in the fields, racing bikes into the city with him riding at your back, his presence as constant as the seasons.

"But then when I get out, I'll be cold." The words float between you like lazy dragonflies, and Luigi just shakes his head, spattering droplets that catch the light.

He pouts, but not like you do.

Where your pouts are theatrical productions, his is a quiet thing — eyebrows drawn together in thought, bottom lip pulled inward instead of jutted out dramatically. His gaze fixes downward at his feet beneath the crystal-clear water, methodically toeing one stone over, then another, like the placement of each pebble might solve some grand puzzle.

You watch him wage his silent war of reorganization, using nothing but his ten toes as construction equipment. It's such a Luigi thing to do — finding the smallest tasks to occupy himself instead of splashing around like he usually does, trying to tempt you in.

"Bet the water feels incredible," he murmurs, more to the stones than to you. His toes have created a perfect semicircle now, a tiny amphitheater beneath the surface. "Like that lemonade your mom makes — you know, the one with mint?"

You do know.

The kind she only makes when the temperature crawls past ninety, when the air feels thick enough to chew. Like today. You can almost taste it — tart and cool and perfect — which is exactly what Luigi intended with that particular comparison, the sneak.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," you inform him, but you're already sitting up straighter, your legs beginning to tingle from staying still too long in the sun.

The grass has left impressions on your skin, tiny crosshatched patterns that Luigi always says look like secret maps, his fingers drawing lines upon them.

He doesn't look up from his underwater construction project, but one corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Never claimed to be subtle. That's your department, avoiding the water like it's personally offended you."

"The water hasn't offended me," you say, though you draw your knees up to your chest, putting another inch between you and the shoreline. "We have a mutual understanding. It stays there, and I stay here."

"Mhm." Luigi abandons his stone circle, wading a few steps deeper until the water laps at his knees, stood there in his trunks, the cobalt blue ones that hit just above his mid-thigh. "And how's that working out for you? Enjoying your dusty patch of grass while I'm out here living like a king?"

The problem is, he does look a bit regal out there, all long limbs and easy grace, like he was born for summer days and spring water.

You've known Lu since you were both gap-toothed and gangly, but sometimes — like now — he seems to have grown into himself while you weren't looking.

Yet, your own limbs still feel too long, too awkward, like you're wearing a costume that doesn't quite fit.

Meanwhile, Luigi wears summer like a second skin, all easy movements and natural grace, as if the universe decided to polish him up while leaving you in your perpetual state of stumbling through doorways.

"A king of minnows, maybe," you counter, but you're already uncurling, letting your feet stretch toward the water's edge. Not to join him, obviously. Just to... test the temperature.

"Ah," he says softly, watching your toes creep closer, his voice taking on a funny narrators tone, an accent thrown in that sounded similar to his fathers. "The snail emerges from her shell."

"Shell-less snails are just slugs," you inform him primly, but dip one toe in anyway. The water isn't as cold as you expected — it never is, but that doesn't stop you from putting on this show every single time. "And I'm neither."

"No," Luigi agrees, dropping the accent but keeping that amused lilt in his voice. "You're more like- like one of those hermit crabs. The ones that think really hard about switching shells but then just stick with the same one anyway."

You splash water at him with your foot, and he doesn't even try to dodge. "Fuck, Lu —That's the worst analogy I've ever heard."

"Is it?" He takes a few steps backward, deeper into the water, like he's laying out a trail for you to follow. "Because you're still sitting there, thinking about coming in, just like you do every time.“

Luigi could easily remember all the days spent here, in this very body of water together — the secret collection of precious gems that were really just polished river rocks, the fossil that turned out to be an old bottle cap, and that infamous river snake from an overturned stone that had you shrieking and refusing to dive under for weeks.

"Can't be thinking about doing it if I'm already doing it, Lu." You roll your eyes, your shins now lapping gently with clean, cool water. The trees droop overhead like nature's own parasol, their leaves casting dappled shadows that dance across your shoulders.

He's quiet for a moment, watching you with an expression you can't quite read. And then. “Remember when we thought we found actual dinosaur bones here?"

"You mean the plastic fork?"

"A very convincing plastic fork."

The water feels like silk against your skin now, and you find yourself wading deeper without really meaning to. It's muscle memory, maybe — your body remembering what your mind keeps second-guessing.

"At least I wasn't the one who tried to sell it to the museum.” you remind him, the water now swirling around your waist. Each step stirs up tiny clouds of silt that disappear into the clear water.

He splashes in your direction, grinning. "We were tweleve! And Mrs. Henderson at the museum was very nice about it."

"She gave you a cookie and a lecture about scientific integrity."

"Exactly. A win-win."

You're deep enough now that you have to lift your arms to keep them dry, though you're not sure why you're bothering. Your bikini is already clinging to you, and that familiar weightless feeling is starting to take over — the one that always made you feel brave before.

"You know what your real problem is?" Luigi quips, but this time his voice is gentler. "You forgot how to play."

The words hit harder than you expect, maybe because there's no teasing in them now.

Just truth, floating there on the surface like a leaf.

"I didn't forget," you say quietly. "I just- I put it away somewhere."

The look in his eyes tells you exactly what's coming, but muscle memory kicks in before you can retreat, your arms already up in defense position as he sends a massive splash your way, the arc of water catching sunlight like scattered diamonds before it hits you full in the face.

"Luigi!" you shriek, but you're already laughing, already moving. Your soul remembers this dance even if your mind's been trying to forget it, and the water parts easily as you lunge toward him, years of practice making your movements swift and sure.

He tries to dodge, but you know all his tricks — the way he always feints left before going right, how he can't resist staying just within splashing range.

The water battle that ensues is immediate and fierce, both of you laughing and gasping, sending waves in every direction, limbs smacking into each other at times, your body trailing away from his while he charged closer.

"See?" he manages between splashes. "The Queen of minnows!”

You're about to respond when your foot slips on a smooth stone, and suddenly you're going under.

For a split second, panic flares — but then the tranquility and silence envelops you, and it feels like greeting an old friend, your eyes open underwater, seeing the filtered sunlight create shifting patterns all around you, and suddenly you remember why you used to love this so much.

When you surface, pushing wet hair from your face, Luigi is watching you with a grin, his sunglasses pushed away from his face and atop his head instead, nestled in his damp black curls. “You got your hair wet.” He gives you one last gentle splash, his grin so carved into his features it may as well be everlasting.

Luigi, the son of Marco Mangione, whose genius lay in transforming his grandfather's modest Milan carpentry shop into Mangione Artisan Living — now a name whispered in the same breath as Fendi Casa and Bottega Veneta's home collection.

When Marco married Sofia Bernardi in the 80’s, a celebrated interior designer, they moved to America, the local papers painting it as another wealthy foreigner's passing fancy — this modernist villa rising among cornfields and weathered barns.

But Marco had seen something in these hills that reminded him of Tuscany, in the calloused hands of local woodworkers that echoed his grandfather's.

The Mangione Mansion stands like a slice of northern Italy transplanted to American soil, with its stark geometries softened by groves of imported olive trees and terraced gardens.

It's a world away from your family's farmhouse, where the paint peels in honest patches and the screen door creaks a familiar welcome, yet Marco moves between these worlds with effortless grace, discussing the merits of different wood grains with your father across the fence line, or clearing out your mother's farmer's market stall of preserves, declaring each jar Perfetto, just like my Nonna's! with the same genuine warmth he uses to greet European royalty.

Luigi, who could have been pressed into private academies and dinner jackets, groomed for Ivy League legacies and country club memberships, had instead grown up alongside you in public school — though his future was cushioned by both financial security and natural brilliance.

You can't remember a time when academic excellence wasn't your north star — every assignment a stepping stone, every grade a battle in the war for your future.

Being a veterinarian wasn't just a dream, it was your escape route from the endless cycle of farm life that had worn your father's hands to calluses and bent your mother's back.

Perfect attendance since kindergarten, straight A's through AP Biology, even showing up on Senior Skip Day — just you and Lacey Williams, the would-be neurosurgeon, bent over your textbooks in an empty classroom.

Now here you both are in the water — you with your scholarship letters and student loan applications waiting at home, him with acceptance letters from Harvard and Yale gathering dust on his desk.

Two lives that should never have intersected, meeting in the middle of sun-warmed water, your shared freckles catching golden light, limbs tangling as Luigi feints another playful attack.

•

Summer buzzes by your eyeshot like a cicada in a hurry, the season winding down with cooler, longer nights and shorter, blazing hot days.

August comes barreling through like it always does, hot and sticky air clinging to your skin as you sit with Luigi upon the sloped side of the barn, a Birds Eye view of the farm, this very spot the first place the two of you had tried smoking weed, the very first time you ogled at a traumatizing porn everyone at school was talking about — this spot, worn from years of shared moments together is the very place you create some distance.

For the first time.

“I think I want my own party this year.”

The words land like a stone in still water, ripples of hurt crossing Luigi's face before he can master his expression.

For a moment, he looks eight years old again, standing in the tall grass with his first American birthday cake — the one your mom made because his parents were still learning that birthdays here meant homemade frosting, not elegant catered affairs and grand garden parties.

"Oh," he says, and it's the smallest you've ever heard his voice. "Yeah, of course. That makes sense. We’re turning twenty-two. Not eight anymore.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes, hands fidgeting with the bracelet you’d made him years and years ago — the same nervous tell he's had since childhood. "Actually, Ma’s been saying I should do something more — you know, formal this year anyway."

The lie sits between you like a third person.

Luigi, who once convinced his parents to move his elaborate garden party to your barn because you had the flu has never cared for formal anything.

You can see him rebuilding his walls, brick by careful brick, protecting himself the way he never had to with you before.

"Send me pictures though?" he adds lightly, but there's at least fifteen years of shared candles and off-key, bi-lingual singing wrapped in that request, fifteen years of your mom's chocolate cake and his ma’s tiramisu side by side on the same table.

"Luigi, it's not-" you start, then pause, because it is exactly what he thinks it is. A separation. A gentle fracture. "I just need to figure out who I am without- without being part of a matched set. Does that make sense?"

The words feel clumsy in your mouth, inadequate to explain this need that's been growing since your acceptance letter arrived.

You watch him nod too quickly, the way he does when he's processing something that hurts.

The same way he looked when Benny, one of the milking cows had passed three summers ago, or the way he looked when you told him you couldn’t go on the Mangione trip to Italy, desperately needing the vet clinic hours.

"My party's probably just going to be pizza with my study group anyway," you continue, trying to make it sound smaller than it is, even though you've already planned every detail — your first real birthday party that isn't shaped around accommodating both your worlds. "And you should do something spectacular. Twenty-two is a weird number, but you could make it your thing.“

He laughs, but it's his polite laugh, the one he uses at his father's business dinners. "Maybe I'll rent out that new rooftop place in the city," he says, playing along with this sudden pretense that the two of you haven't spent months quietly planning your joint party like every year before. "Very grown-up."

The space between you fills with unspoken memories — dual parties with increasingly ridiculous themes, the year you both got chicken pox and celebrated in quarantine together, or the year his mother hired a magician who pulled you both on stage as assistants.

Fifteen years of wishes and synchronized candle-blowing, and you’ve put an abrupt end to it, with not so much as a warning.

"You're not mad?" you ask, even though you can see he is — not angry-mad, but hurt-mad, the kind that makes his shoulders tight and his smile too careful.

He stands abruptly, brushing invisible dirt from his shorts. "Mad? Nah, come on. We're not kids anymore." The words come out just a touch too fast, too light. "Actually, I should head back. Papa wanted to discuss something about the company tonight."

It's barely seven, and Marco's in New York City until Thursday — you both know this. But Luigi's already stepping back, that practiced social smile firmly in place, the one he uses when he needs to retreat but is too polite to say so.

"Night," he calls over his shoulder once he scales the side of the barn down to the grass again, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You watch him walk away, his usual easy stride now stiff and measured, leaving you alone with just the sound of the bullfrogs near the pond, and the chickens settling in their coops for the night.

The sunset feels colder somehow, and you wrap your arms around your knees, trying to convince yourself this is what growing up looks like as you sit there until the mosquitoes start biting, watching the space where Luigi disappeared and wondering if this is what independence is supposed to feel like — this hollow victory that tastes nothing like freedom and everything like loss.

•

The late August evening slowly begins to melt into night, the air carrying whispers of autumn though summer still reigns.

You breathe in deep — catching hints of hay being baled in distant fields, leaves just beginning their subtle shift from green to gold, and lake water evaporating off sun-warmed skin. The pontoon boat hums steadily beneath you, loaded with friends sprawled across every available surface, their laughter echoing across the darkening water.

You'd done your best to prepare them all, carefully explaining the separate celebrations to avoid awkward questions.

But Luigi's absence feels like a shadow you can't shake — in the pause after every joke, in the empty space at the boat's stern where he always sat, in the way conversations drift and fade without his easy charm to bridge them.

You're learning that some people leave gaps too precisely shaped to fill, and you catch yourself waiting for sounds that aren't coming —the full-bodied laughter that usually ricochets across the lake, the constant stream of Luigi's commentary that made even silence feel alive.

No one's standing at the boat's edge, goading others into increasingly ridiculous diving contests. The absence of these things sits heavy in your chest, like missing the last step on a familiar staircase.

"Good for you for doing your own thing this year," Mia offers, wine sloshing in her solo cup as she gestures vaguely. "Must be nice not having to compromise on everything for once."

Not really, you think.

The evening settles into dinner in the back garden, strings of lights casting warm halos over familiar faces — relatives, neighbors, friends who'd trickled in as the day aged and as if on cue, the peaceful scene splinters at the sound of tires on gravel and a booming voice that makes your stomach drop.

"Where's Luigi?!"

Cousin Tony's borrowed truck sits askew on the path, driver's door still swinging open like an afterthought.

He bounds toward you, one arm clutching what's clearly a wine bottle wrapped in what looks like yesterday's newspaper, his face bright with the anticipation of seeing his favorite duo.

The sight makes something in your chest twist.

He’s always treated you both as his own blood, never drawing lines between family and chosen family.

You're crushed into a bear hug before you can dodge it, his familiar cologne mixing with engine grease as you try to breathe through compressed lungs, but he’s still calling for Luigi over your head, each shout making the other guests shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"He's somewhere in the city, Tone," you manage to wheeze out.

Your phone burns in your pocket, where Luigi's latest Instagram story sits unopened — some rooftop view you're deliberately not thinking about.

"What'da ya mean?" His grip loosens just enough for you to see his face fall, confusion creeping into his features like a slowly spreading stain.

"We're... trying something different this year," you say, words feeling clumsy as you glance over your shoulder at the laden table — a spread that still unconsciously includes all of Luigi's favorites alongside your own. The sight of his mother's recipe for stuffed shells sitting next to your grandmother's pierogies makes your throat tight.

"Well, is he at least comin' later?"

"No." The word falls between you like a stone. "He couldn't cancel his reservation without losing the booking fee, so I just told him it was fi-"

"No, no, mia cara," Tony drags his hands through his hair, face crumpling like you've just told him the world is ending. "Potrebbe essere l'ultimo!" The words tumble out in his rushed native tongue, his distress making him forget himself.

"You just said that in Italian." Your voice sounds far away, even to your own ears, like it's coming from the bottom of a well.

"Shit — It could be your last time, cuginetta." Tony's sigh seems to come from his bones as he pulls out his phone, cursing when he sees the no-service icon.

"My last time?"

Tony lifts his head slowly from his phone screen, eyes finding yours with a weight that makes your stomach drop. "What — oh, Dio — do you mean to say he has not told you?"

"Told me...?” You brace yourself, chest aching with a sudden, sharp regret for all those breakfast lessons with Luigi's nonna, her patient voice guiding you through pronunciations you'd carelessly let slip away between coffee and lunch.

"He got big'a job in the big city," Tony's hands sweep upward, as if trying to encompass the vastness of a metropolis that stretches far beyond any gesture could capture. "Saying bye-bye forever to smelly farm." His hands fall, and his expression softens into something dangerously close to pity. "Sorry.”

"Leaving? Like — he's moving there?" The words feel strange in your mouth.

You're standing in the same garden where you and Luigi once buried treasure maps at age eight, where you learned to cartwheel together at twelve, where you shared your first illegal beer at sixteen — and suddenly it all feels like archaeological evidence of something that's already gone.

"That's where zio Marco is now, making sure Princess Luigi has all the things he need there for — uh—" Tony lapses into rapid Italian, but you've already stopped listening, the rest of his words fading into white noise.

You're hung up on the present tense of it all — Luigi’s father is there now, apartment hunting, setting up a brand new life while you stand here in your shared history, surrounded by people who apparently knew more about Luigi's future than you did.

The realization hits very suddenly.

Luigi was moving away, and he spoke not a word of it to you.

Tony manages a plate of food before borrowing your landline, desperate to track down Luigi in the sprawling city and when his truck finally crunches back down the gravel path, you feel it like a physical wound — as if he's taking a piece of you with him, torn straight from your core, yet, you maintain your composure with award-winning precision, a smile fixed firmly in place as guests filter away into the darkness.

You go through the motions, accepting kisses on cheeks, graciously receiving gifts labeled with just your name - no more Dynamic Duo or Thing 1 and 2 scrawled in familiar handwriting.

You help clear the garden, stack chairs, wash dishes that held food Luigi would have fought you for the leftovers of. You kiss your father's cheek goodnight, and tell your still-bustling mother you're heading out for some stargazing.

It's not entirely a lie.

You do end up beneath the stars, though you hadn't exactly planned to collapse here by the waterfront, where the distant dock creaks its lonely song, the splash of jumping fish and the bold croaking of nearby bullfrogs barely register — sounds that would normally make you jump now feel as distant as satellite signals.

You're lost in the undertow of your thoughts, barely noticing the warm tears tracking down your neck until your t-shirt is damp with evidence of a grief you didn't know you needed to prepare for — the silence holds you, envelopes you, and you’re almost convinced you can disappear here until-

"Hey, stranger."

His voice cuts through the cricket symphony like a knife, and you freeze, tears still wet on your face.

You don't turn around — can't turn around — because you know exactly what he'll look like: silhouetted against the moons full and distant glow, wearing that stupid designer jacket he bought last month that suddenly makes too much sense.

Big City boy.

The grass whispers beneath his feet as he approaches, each step measured like he's greeting a spooked animal.

It's funny — he used to just crash down beside you, all elbows and laughter.

When did you become something he had to be careful with?

"Tone called me," he says softly, still standing. "Said he found you but couldn't find me." There's a pause, heavy with unspoken words. "Told me other things, too."

The lake laps at the shore, a steady rhythm that used to calm you both on countless nights like this.

Now it just sounds like a countdown.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice sounds small against the vastness of the lake, broken and confused, betrayed and disbelieving.

"Would it have changed anything?" His words come sharp, defensive. "Would you have suddenly decided to stay?"

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" The laugh that escapes him is bitter and unfamiliar. "You want to talk about fair? I watched you apply to every college more than fifty miles away. Watched you light up talking about leaving, about getting out. Never once asking—" He cuts himself off, his gaze turning up instead at the trees that sway and rustle in the midnight air, a chill taking your spine.

"Asking what, Lu?”

"If I wanted to come with you." The words hang in the darkness between you. "If maybe I had dreams too, ones that didn't involve watching you disappear."

"I never said you couldn't-“

"What do you think I was going to do, wait around forever?" His voice cracks at the end, brittle and broken. "God, I've spent my whole life orbiting you like a personal Pluto. I don't even remember my life before you." He paces now like an agitated zoo animal behind a sheath of thin glass, just out of reach. “And yet, you expect me to stay here without you? While you go to college, make your own dreams come true?"

The moonlight catches his face as he turns, and you see something break in his expression. "I would have waited. I would have always waited, but fuck—" His hands tremble as they rake through his hair. "You've pushed and pushed and pushed me away. Every college application, every excited story about your future somewhere else, the party -“ he watches as you stand, your posture ridged and nervous, but attentive.

"Lu, please -“

"So what do I do?" His voice drops lower, trembling. "I have to think of myself too. I have to accept that we won't always be this way." He watches as you scrub your hands over your face, your unsteady legs carrying you off the dock.

The cool, damp grass beneath your feet becomes an anchor, something real in a moment that feels anything but.

He follows, his body angled toward yours like a compass finding north. "But it didn't have to be like this." His voice softens to barely above a whisper, his dress shoes crushing the grass with each step.

"Well, what exactly did you expect?" You whirl around, wiping furiously beneath your eyes, moonlight catching the tears on your cheeks that refuse to be unseen. "We were going to play in the river forever? Did you think we'd just find our way without ever trying?" The words come out harder than you mean them, sharp with the kind of anger that's really just fear in disguise.

"I- you-" Luigi's voice breaks.

His eyes are bloodshot, the bridge of his nose red from earlier tears hastily wiped away in the party bathroom. In the half-light, he looks both younger and older than your shared twenty-two years — a boy trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers, a man facing his first real loss.

"You know, maybe it might have been that easy for you, Lu." Your eyes drift to the Mangione Mansion, its windows gleaming like jewels against the dark hills, an anomaly among the endless cornfields. "You never had to lift a finger — it always just..." You gesture vaguely, bitterly. "Fell into place."

The words taste like copper in your mouth, sharper for how unfair they feel.

Because he's always shared everything.

Those lavish family dinners where his mother insisted you sit next to her, those delicate necklaces from Rome that he'd drape around your neck with careful fingers, those shopping trips where his nonna would press dresses into your arms with a conspirator's wink.

He's never once made you feel like charity.

But there are some things that can't be shared, some advantages that run deeper than generosity.

While you pieced together credits between evening classes and online courses, fighting for every inch of progress, he'd come home rolling his eyes at another Harvard letter, another Yale recruiter calling.

You take a deep breath, feeling the summer air fill your lungs, and air that smells like it always has, like corn silk and cut grass and the all-consuming night. "Did you think we'd just stay here in our bubble, Lu?" Your voice softens despite yourself. "The only place we've ever known?"

All he can do is stand there, helpless, caught between a nod and denial.

His expression crumples into something raw and pleading — such a far cry from the boy who, just last week, had painted patterns across your skin with river mud, both of you laughing until your sides hurt.

The same boy whom you could communicate with without even speaking to, who knew exactly how you took your coffee, who was born the day before you, and who could read your silences like a book he'd memorized; yet now he's looking at you like you're written in a language he never learned to speak.

"No." The word propels you forward, feet moving before your brain catches up.

His face softens into something unbearable — like watching a star collapse in slow motion, finally understanding that this isn't just another one of your theoretical late-night talks about the future.

His carefully constructed composure crumbles, leaving behind something young and scared and achingly real.

"I love you." The words fall from his lips like muscle memory, like breathing, like the thousands of times before — whispered against your hair during movies, shouted across parking lots, mumbled sleepily during long car rides. But now they land heavy between you, a weight pressing against your chest until it hurts to breathe. "I always have, and I always will—"

"No. No, Lu." Your voice cracks on his name, and your pace quickens, bare feet crushing grass beneath desperate steps.

But he matches you stride for stride.

“My life has been so intertwined with yours, when you began to pull away - I- I panicked,” He was rambling now, quick and out of breath but keeping up with you nonetheless, the two of you navigating the vast property, moon and starlight the only thing guiding your path. “I settled on what I knew would be easiest,”

“That’s the problem.” You stop again to look at him, your chest heaving. “You don’t need to settle, Lu — you’re brilliant, you’re so fucking brilliant-“ he grabs your wrists gently, taking several steps to close the gap between you.

"I have never settled on you." Luigi's voice goes rigid, cracking in the middle like ice breaking over deep water. Each word carries the weight of years — shared secrets, dreams whispered under blanket forts, and promises made in tree houses. "You have always been my first option."

You catch your breath, the familiar warmth of his hands on your wrists suddenly feeling like shackles.

Your head shakes, slow and deliberate, as you try to pull back — but his grip steadfast remains. "How would you know of the other options?" The question comes out softer than you mean it to, weighted with everything you've both been too scared to say. "Do you know yourself without me?”

"I don't want to know myself without you."

"Luigi. Please stop-“ You wrench your wrists from his loosened grip, your feet carrying you forward through the night but he follows, like an echo you can't shake, like a shadow that refuses to fade with distance.

His words tumble out faster now, chasing the shrinking space between you and home, visible through the wavering corn stalks like a lighthouse warning of rough water ahead. "I know I'm not — I know I'm not Matthew Williams, or that guy that works the stables near the Bradshaws. And I know I’m not a perfect man, but—"

You stop once again, so abruptly this time he nearly collides with you, turning to face this strange new version of Luigi — one you've never seen before, one who wears his insecurities like an ill-fitting suit.

He's brave, you'll give him that, but he's also terrified in a way that makes your chest ache.

This boy who's never had to compete for anything in his life, suddenly listing off names like entries in a contest he thinks he's losing.

"You stop that." Your finger jabs at his chest, connecting with the expensive fabric of his jacket. "You are the most-the most magnificent person I have ever met, Luigi. And you're not perfect, no-“ You swallow against the rising bile, against the irony of having to defend him to himself when you're the one walking away. "But you're honest, and you're good — a goddamn great deal too good for me."

The last part comes out like a confession, like something you've carried so long it's carved itself into your bones — the real reason you're running, the fear that someday he'll wake up and realize it too.

The night holds its breath around you, your ragged exhales mixing with his in the space between heartbeats, and the trees shiver their leaves like witnesses to your undoing, crickets falling silent as if they too understand the gravity of this moment — this closing act.

"But-“ You step into his warmth, drawn forward like a moth to flame, even now, knowing it would burn. You’re close enough to catch the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with fresh-cut grass and summer sweat. Close enough to see the moonlight catching in his eyelashes. Close enough to break both your hearts properly. "I can't love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The words tear themselves from your throat like barbed wire, each syllable drawing blood.

Your stomach twists inside out, acid creeping up your throat again, "I can't love you like that. I’m - I’m so, so sorry, Luigi — I just - I can’t,

His hands find your face with the reverence of a prayer, thumbs brushing across your cheekbones like he's trying to memorize the geography of your skin. "Listen to me," he whispers, his voice thick with desperation. "Listen."

The tenderness in his touch nearly breaks you — the way his fingers tremble against your jaw, the gentle circles he traces beneath your ears, the familiar callous on his right thumb from his tree-climbing habit.

His forehead drops to rest against yours, and you can feel his breath hitching, unsteady and warm against your lips.

"You've already loved me better than anyone else ever could," Luigi's voice cracks, splintering like ice in early spring. "You love me exactly as I am — not the heir, not the prodigy, not the Mangione name." His hands slide into your hair, “You have loved me even though I can’t remember to help feed the hens, but I can recite every constellation. And you’ve loved me even though I name every cull cow — even though you think it’s cruel.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, and the raw hope in his gaze is almost unbearable. "Please," he breathes, the word more air than sound. "Please don't decide for both of us what kind of love I deserve." His thumbs catch the tears you didn't realize were falling, smearing them across your cheeks like war paint. "Let me choose.”

“Then choose someone else!” You shake your hands at him, helpless and wishing to disappear. “I - I’m so unsure of myself - every goddamn thing I do, Luigi. I break everything, I’m useless at being a homemaker. I’m awkward, I’m a black sheep, even all the way out here.”

You aren’t made for the big city like he is.

The moonlight catches in his dark eyes, turning them to liquid as they search yours. "I don't need perfect love. I don't need textbook romance or fairy tale." His voice breaks, raw with honesty. "I just need you. But - but I can’t live like this forever" He’s speaking faster than you’ve ever heard the smooth-talking, easy going Luigi say anything.

You try to turn away, to escape the weight of his words, but his touch holds you steady — gentle but unwavering. "Luigi — let me the fuck-“

"No," he breathes, the word ghosting across your lips. "No, don't push me away because you think you're protecting me. Don't make decisions about what I can handle." His fingers thread through your hair, cradling the back of your head. "I choose this. I choose the messy parts, the broken parts, the parts you think are unlovable. I choose all of it."

I am stopping this here. Love you 💕

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

�� ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

I drew inspiration from the TikTok lipstick challenge, which, to be honest, left me feeling incredibly lonely. The whole experience stirred something in me, prompting me to write about it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

Additionally, I was influenced by @fraternum-momentum and their OC, Sol, which added another layer to the idea. As for whether this should be marked NSFW or SWF, I'm torn—it's really more of a playful game involving lipstick, with a soft, romantic vibe and a lot of playful banter and chemistry between the characters. 

It's meant to be lighthearted and playful, with a bit of flirtation thrown in, but definitely nothing explicit! Also, I think I might've missed the birthday of a certain character in the game… I wonder who that could be?

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

The student council room was eerily quiet after hours, lit only by the warm glow of a desk lamp on the far end. The usual hustle and bustle of meetings, debates, and planning sessions had faded, leaving the space unusually still. 

Except for him.  

Crowe was seated at the large oak table, his posture impeccable as he reviewed a stack of neatly organized papers. His sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows. His black bottom-up shirt was loosened but still perfectly modest, and his purple vest hung from the back of his chair. He looked, as always, impossibly put-together.

And that’s exactly why you’d decided to stop by tonight, coming from a late night studying at the library, you could help to pay him a visit, after all, you have the key. He was too perfect, too composed. It was high time someone tested just how unshakeable Crowe’s gentlemanly façade was.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him briefly before clearing your throat. "Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Crowe glanced up, his brows lifting in surprise at first, but his expression quickly softened into a familiar, warm smile. “You have a habit of sneaking up on people, you know that?”

“It’s one of my better skills,” you replied, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind you. “What are you doing here so late, anyway? Don’t tell me it’s another mountain of paperwork.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was?” he asked, motioning to the neatly stacked papers in front of him. “Someone has to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Ever the responsible one,” you teased, crossing the room toward him. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... predictable?”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Predictable? That’s a new one. Care to elaborate?”

You grinned, circling the table to stand behind his chair. “You’re always so composed, so polite, so... gentlemanly. Doesn’t it get boring playing the role of the perfect man?”

“Not particularly,” he replied smoothly, though his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “Someone has to keep things in order.”

“Mm, but what if someone didn’t?” you murmured, leaning down until your lips were close to his ear. “What if someone decided to mess with that perfect little image of yours?”

Crowe turned his head slightly, his deep blue eyes meeting yours with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Is that what you’re here to do?”

“Maybe,” you said innocently, stepping around to face him. Without giving him a chance to respond, you perched yourself on the edge of the table, just close enough to be in his space without overstepping.

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his deep blue eyes fixed on you with a spark of intrigue. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”  

You didn’t answer right away. 

Instead, a sly smirk played on your lips as you slid off the table in one smooth, deliberate motion, closing the small distance between you and him. Without hesitation, you eased yourself into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs.  

Crowe stiffened immediately, his posture going rigid as his hands hovered uncertainly in the air, unsure where to land. His usually composed demeanor faltered, and the faintest trace of a blush began creeping up his neck. It was subtle, but on his warm, light brown skin, it was enough for you to notice—and grin.  

“Well,” you started, looping your arms lazily around his neck, your fingers toying with the ends of his braided brown hair. “I thought I’d start by seeing how much it takes to make you blush.”  

Crowe’s breath hitched as you leaned in, your lips brushing his cheek in a featherlight kiss. “That’s one,” you murmured, your tone playful, your lips curling into a mischievous smile.  

His jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Are you keeping score?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with a nervous edge.  

“Maybe,” you teased, planting a second kiss on his other cheek. “Two.”  

Your hand moved to the back of his neck, your fingers threading through his single braid as you tilted his head slightly to the side. The motion exposed the line of his jaw, and you didn’t hesitate, pressing soft kisses along the sharp angles, your lips tracing the warm expanse of his skin.  

“Three, four…” you counted softly, letting your lips linger just a moment longer with each touch.  

Crowe swallowed hard, the tension in his body melting just enough for his hands to find a place—tentatively settling on your waist. His grip was light as if he were still unsure if this was something he should allow himself to enjoy. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, though the corners of his mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Playing such a dangerous game.”  

“Am I?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still idly twirling single braid. Your voice took on a mockingly innocent tone. “Or are you just afraid I might win?”  

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled faintly. "I suppose that depends on what you’re trying to win."

You smirked, reaching into your bag and pulling out a tube of lipstick. Crowe’s brow furrowed in confusion as you uncapped it, applying the deep crimson shade with practiced ease. 

"And what’s this for?" he asked, his voice carrying the slightest hint of wariness.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin, lips hovering near his cheek. “Call it an experiment,” you murmured, your voice soft and teasing. Without waiting for a reply, you pressed a deliberate kiss just below his cheekbone.

The faint scent of your perfume lingered in the air as you pulled back, a perfect lipstick mark standing out against his warm, light brown skin. You tilted your head slightly, inspecting your handwork with a mischievous smile. “Not bad,” you said lightly, as if critiquing a painting.

Crowe blinked, visibly stunned, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours. He didn’t move, his breath caught as if trying to process what just happened.

But you weren’t finished.

Tilting his chin slightly with a gentle finger, you leaned in again, this time brushing your lips along the edge of his jawline. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in his shoulders betraying his carefully composed demeanor. Another kiss followed, slower this time, leaving a bold imprint just below his jaw.

Crowe’s lips parted, his breathing uneven now, though he still didn’t stop you.

“Hmm,” you mused, leaning back slightly, only to trail your gaze down to the column of his neck. “This feels incomplete.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat when your lips found the curve of his neck. A soft gasp escaped him as you pressed another kiss there, then another, just above his collarbone. His hand twitched as though he might reach for you, but he held back, his restraint only making the moment more electric.

When you finally leaned back, Crowe’s usual polished, gentlemanly demeanor was in tatters. His skin was a masterpiece of faint crimson marks—his cheeks, jawline, and neck all kissed and claimed. He reached up hesitantly, brushing his fingers over one of the marks on his jaw, his touch lingering there as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of your lips.

“You—” he started, his voice rough, but you cut him off with a soft laugh.

“Speechless?” you teased, recapping your lipstick and slipping it back into your bag with an air of nonchalance. “I must’ve done something right.”

Crowe’s jaw worked, his lips pressing together as he struggled to find his composure. His usual confidence had been thoroughly dismantled, leaving him looking uncharacteristically vulnerable yet… yearning. The once-pristine picture of composure—the meticulous student apart of the council—now looked delightfully disheveled, his face, jawline, and even his neck adorned with vivid, unmistakable stains.

“There,” you said, stepping back and tilting your head as if you were admiring a masterpiece. “Not so perfect now, are you?”  

“You’ve officially ruined my ‘gentlemanly’ image,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. His fingers hesitantly brushed over the fresh stain near his jawline, his expression equal parts baffled and amused. “I can’t believe you just did that.”  

“Oh, believe it,” you teased, crossing your arms and giving him a satisfied grin. “Honestly, I think it suits you. Adds a little color. You’re welcome.”  

Crowe let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. How am I supposed to explain this?”  

“Explain it?” you said, feigning shock. “You mean you’re not just going to own it? What happened to that legendary confidence of yours?”  

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off by leaning in again, adding a quick kiss to his forehead. “Now you’ve got the full set,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Face, neck, and...” You trailed off meaningfully, letting the pause hang in the air.  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his composure slipping as he caught the implication. “You wouldn’t—”  

You didn’t let him finish. Before he could say another word, you planted a deliberate kiss at the corner of his mouth, then slowly worked your way to the center, leaving faint marks in your wake.  

When you pulled back, your face was the picture of triumph. “Now you’re officially branded. Guess that gentleman thing has its limits, huh?”  

Crowe’s deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”  

“Absolutely,” you replied without hesitation. “And admit it—you are too.”  

He exhaled, his hands resting lightly on your waist as if he wasn’t sure whether to steady you or himself. “You like testing me,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, tinged with both amusement and something deeper.  

“And you like failing,” you shot back, leaning in so your faces were barely an inch apart. “Don’t worry, though—I think you wear it well. Lipstick suits you.”  

Crowe’s lips quirked into a smirk, his usually poised demeanor finally cracking under your relentless teasing. “You’re not making this easy,” he murmured, his voice low but laced with a playful challenge.  

“And why should I?” you quipped, settling more comfortably on his lap and letting your arms drape lazily around his neck. You leaned back just enough to take in your handiwork. The soft smudges of lipstick painted a trail of your victory across his cheeks, jaw, and now his neck. A particularly bold kiss near his collarbone had left a bright red mark against his brown skin.  

Crowe raised an eyebrow at you, his deep blue eyes flickering between exasperation and amusement. “I look like I lost a fight with a makeup counter.”  

“Correction: you lost to me,” you replied with a smug grin, leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. Your voice dropped to a teasing whisper. “And you didn’t exactly stop me.”  

Crowe huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and rich despite the predicament. “Oh, I’m fully aware,” he said, his tone dry but edged with amusement. “Do you make a habit of ambushing people with lipstick, or am I just special?”  

“You’re special,” you teased, drawing the word out in a sing-song tone as your fingers toyed with the loosened knot of his tie. “But don’t get too excited—I just thought someone as put-together as you needed a little... color.”  

His breath hitched, and for the briefest moment, his usual restraint faltered. His hand slid up to your waist, his fingers curling slightly as if to anchor himself. “And here I thought you were here to apologize for interrupting my work,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, his eyes darker as they locked onto yours.  

“Apologize?” you repeated, feigning innocence. “For what? For making you look even more handsome? For proving you’re not as unshakeable as you pretend to be?”  

Crowe chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.  

“Impossible?” you echoed, shifting slightly in his lap, your fingers lightly tracing the collar of his shirt. You leaned in closer, your nose just brushing against his, and your voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper. “That’s funny, coming from someone who’s supposed to be a gentleman. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know... stopping me? Resisting temptation?”  

Crowe’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, though not quickly enough to mask the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face. His gaze dropped, lingering on your lips for a heartbeat too long before meeting your eyes again. His hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, his grip firm but still careful, as though he were holding himself back.  

“And why,” he murmured, his voice lower now, the usual steadiness giving way to something rougher, more deliberate, “would I want to stop you?”  

Your smirk widened, victory already bubbling in your chest. “That’s a good question,” you mused, leaning in until your lips brushed his, the contact feather-light and achingly slow. His breath caught, and you could feel the tension in his frame, the way he held himself still, like he was caught between giving in and holding on.  

“Good answer,” you whispered against his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, were darker now, his composure visibly slipping. You caught the faint flush rising along his neck, creeping just beneath his jawline, and you couldn’t help but grin.  

Crowe exhaled sharply, breaking the silence as he leaned his head back against the chair, a wry, unsteady chuckle slipping past his lips. “You’re trouble,” he said, though his voice betrayed him—uneven and laced with something softer.  

“And yet,” you replied, hopping off his lap with a triumphant flourish, smoothing the hem of your clothing as if nothing had happened, “you haven’t asked me to leave.”  

Crowe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as that familiar glint of mischief returned to his expression. He looked at you now with the kind of calm that was just daring you to keep pushing. “Maybe,” he said slowly, his voice steadying again, “I like a little trouble.”  

You laughed softly, stepping back to admire your handiwork. His shirt was slightly wrinkled from where your hands had rested, and his face was a mess of lipstick smudges—on his cheeks, along his jaw, and the faintest stain at the corner of his lips.  

“Good,” you said with a mischievous grin, nodding toward the streak of lipstick on his neck. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Crowe’s eyebrow arched, his lips curling into a small, amused smile as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady and teasing. “Then I’ll be sure to prepare myself,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

“Oh, you’d better be,” you shot back, taking a step back from his lap with deliberate slowness, your eyes lingering on him for just a moment longer. “Because next time, I might not be so... gentle.”

Turning on your heel, you strode to the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Just before you left, you glanced over your shoulder, your grin still firmly in place. “Try not to miss me too much.”

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Crowe alone in the dim light of the student council room. He let out a quiet breath, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the mark you’d left on his neck. 

A faint chuckle escaped him as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the closed door with a small shake of his head. “You really are something else,” he muttered to himself, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. 

Trouble, yes—but perhaps the kind of trouble he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

The living room was a cozy chaos, with warm fairy lights casting a golden glow over the dark walls and mismatched furniture. The lights draped lazily over the curtain rods, twinkling faintly as if encouraging the quiet mischief brewing within. The couch—a beloved relic, its cushions sagging in all the right ways—sat at the center of it all, surrounded by a battlefield of cosmetics.  

The coffee table groaned under the weight of lipstick tubes in every shade imaginable, from muted nudes to shocking neons. Tissue papers lay crumpled beside an array of smudged hand mirrors, and the faint scent of vanilla and wax lingered in the air. The room was comfortably warm, the heater humming faintly in the corner, adding to the intimate atmosphere.  

You perched on the couch's edge, your legs tucked beneath you, wearing an oversized hoodie that dwarfed your frame but left your enthusiasm unrestrained. A wicked grin played on your lips as you reached for the next weapon in your arsenal—a vibrant crimson lipstick labeled *Scarlet Desire.*  

Sol sat beside you, a reluctant participant in your glamorous experiment. His dark, disheveled hair framed his pale face, strands occasionally falling into his reddish-orange eyes that seemed to glow like dying embers in the dim light. He slouched dramatically, his arms crossed as if that might shield him from the barrage of attention you had planned.  

"All right, Sol," you announced with mock seriousness, brandishing the tube like a wand. "You’ve been chosen as tonight’s test dummy. Congratulations on your moment of fame."  

Sol let out a groan that was half dramatic and half genuine, tipping his head back against the couch and staring at the ceiling as if it might offer an escape. "Why do I feel like I’m about to star in a weird beauty guru horror story?"  

"Because you are," you replied with a smirk, twisting the lipstick open to reveal its bold crimson shade. The color gleamed under the fairy lights, a promise of chaos to come. "Now, sit still and quit whining. Let’s see if ‘Scarlet Desire’ lives up to its name."  

Before he could muster another complaint, you leaned in, one hand gently cupping his jaw to steady him. His breath hitched, his body freezing under the unexpected closeness. The faint scent of your perfume—something floral and sweet—floated between you, making his pulse quicken.  

You applied the lipstick to your lips with precision, pausing briefly to inspect the smoothness in the hand mirror. Satisfied, you leaned closer again, your face just inches from his.  

"Ready?" you teased, your voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper, your grin turning impish.  

Sol’s eyes widened slightly, their reddish hue glinting with a mix of trepidation and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Do I have a choice?" he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.  

"Not at all," you replied cheerfully, brushing aside his weak protests.  

Without hesitation, you pressed your lips to his cheek, the cool touch of lipstick contrasting with the warmth of his skin. The kiss was quick but deliberate, leaving behind a perfectly shaped crimson stain against his pale complexion.  

Sol blinked, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to process what had just happened. His usual indifferent mask cracked the faintest hint of pink creeping up his ears. The lipstick stain on his cheek seemed to burn hotter than the room’s heater, a brand he couldn’t ignore.  

You leaned back, tilting the hand mirror to inspect your handiwork. "Still intact," you mused, tapping your lips thoughtfully. "That’s a point for ‘Scarlet Desire.’"  

Sol finally found his voice, though it came out uneven. “Is… is this going to take all night?”  

“Probably,” you replied, lips curling into a mischievous smile as you reached for another tube. You held it up to the light, inspecting the label. “‘Forbidden Plum.’ Sounds dramatic enough, don’t you think?”  

The deep purple shade gleamed as you twisted the tube, the realization dawning on Sol that this was far from over. He groaned again, though the faint flush creeping up his neck betrayed the fact that he wasn’t entirely upset about the situation.  

“Relax,” you teased, leaning in close, your warm breath brushing his ear. “I’ll be gentle.”  

Before he could respond, your lips pressed softly to his jawline, leaving a perfect, dark imprint just below the curve of his cheekbone. You lingered for a moment, letting the heat of the kiss sink in before pulling back to inspect the mark.  

“Not bad,” you murmured, tilting your head and running your thumb over the stain as if appraising your work. “But I think this color needs a little more flair.”  

Without waiting for his approval, you leaned in again, this time brushing your lips against his neck. The touch was softer, teasing, and you felt the slight hitch in his breathing as your lipstick left another vivid mark just above his collarbone.  

Sol swallowed hard, his face now a canvas of warmth and embarrassment. This wasn’t just a lipstick test anymore—it was a battle to maintain his composure against your relentless, flirtatious charm.  

“Hm,” you mused again, holding up the mirror to check your lips, then twisting open another tube. “Alright, next contender: ‘Midnight Rose.’ Let’s see if it’s as dramatic as it sounds.”  

His reddish orange eyes tracked your every move, flickering between the lipstick in your hand and the playful glint in your eyes. As you leaned in to kiss his other cheek, the cool press of your lips sent a jolt down his spine, and his fingers curled tightly around the edge of the couch cushion.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, voice low and unsteady.  

“You say that like you’re not,” you shot back, your tone as playful as the smile that followed.  

This time, you kissed along his jawline again, dragging your lips lightly over his skin before pulling back with a smirk. The fairy lights cast a warm glow over the room, adding to the intimacy of the moment as your laughter filled the space.  

By the fourth or seventh kiss, Sol was no longer slouched but sitting ramrod straight, his breath uneven, and his lips parted in a dazed expression. The air between you felt charged, and every teasing glance you shot his way only added to his visible fluster.  

“Now how… how many more of these are there?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You tilted your head, pretending to count the remaining tubes. “Oh, only about five or six. Maybe seven. You’re handling this so well, Sol, I might just have to make you my permanent lipstick tester.”  

He groaned, a hand flying to his forehead in mock defeat, but his reddish-orange eyes lingered on you longer than they should have.  

“You must be getting bored with this experiment by now,” he mumbled, though his tone lacked conviction.  

“Bored? Not a chance,” you quipped, leaning in one more time, this time planting a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Though I think you might be getting dazed from all the attention.”  

Sol’s breath caught, and his cheeks flamed brighter than before. He could only sit there, speechless and utterly smitten, as you reached for yet another lipstick tube.  

“This one’s called ‘Velvet Sin,’” you announced, holding it up with a playful wink. “Let’s see if it’s worth the hype.”  

For a moment, he thought about protesting, but then he realized—what was the point?

He was already lost in the haze of your laughter, your teasing touches, and the warm, lingering impressions of your kisses. The pink, purple, and red smudges peppered across Sol's pale skin. He sat stiffly, his black and green streaks bangs veiling his burning cheeks as he avoided your amused gaze.  

You held up the mirror again, turning your head to inspect your lips carefully. "Still nothing, maybe I should just stick to clear gloss,” you said, a triumphant edge in your tone. "It’s like these lipsticks were forged in a lab to smudge. Great…."  

Then you turned the mirror toward Sol, revealing his reflection. His reddish-orange eyes widened as he stared, dumbfounded, at the chaotic array of lipstick marks scattered across his face—his jaw, cheeks, and even a faint smear near his collarbone from when you leaned in a little too close earlier.  

You burst out laughing, breaking the silence. "You look like a really sad art project," you teased, clutching the mirror with one hand and your stomach with the other as you doubled over in laughter.  

He huffed, clearly trying to mask his growing embarrassment, but the corner of his lips twitched upward in a sheepish smile. "You’re enjoying this way too much."  

Sol, typically composed in his aloofness, looked anything but indifferent as you leaned in, armed with yet another lipstick in your collection. His usual mask of stoicism had cracked, replaced by a look of pure, unguarded vulnerability.

“And you’re taking it way too seriously,” you teased, your voice low and dripping with mischief.

Before Sol could respond, you closed the gap between you, planting a kiss squarely on the tip of his nose. The kiss was playful, a soft smooch that left behind a faint, heart-shaped lipstick mark. The vibrant maroon stood out against his pale skin, and you pulled back, your lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

"Perfect," you murmured, tilting your head to inspect the tiny flourish you’d left behind.

Sol sat there, motionless, his lips slightly parted as if he’d forgotten how to form words. His reddish orange eyes were wide, darting to your lips and then back to your eyes. He looked completely out of his depth, his usual brooding demeanor utterly replaced by something unsteady and raw.

You didn’t stop. You leaned in again, closer this time, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Sol’s breath hitched audibly as your lips ghosted over his cheek.

“Let’s try something more daring,” you whispered, the heat of your breath brushing against his skin before you pressed a deliberate kiss just beside the corner of his mouth.

His entire body stiffened, his hand gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. The lipstick left a bold mark just shy of his lips, teasingly close. You pulled back ever so slightly, your gaze lingering on the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

“Hmm, maybe I should try it here next,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently brushing his chin to tilt his face toward you.

Sol’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly as you leaned in further. This time, you kissed him squarely on the mouth, a soft, deliberate press of your lips against his. The kiss was slow, your lips brushing his with just enough pressure to leave a faint imprint of the maroon shade.

When you pulled away, his lips glistened faintly, the color smudged ever so slightly. His cheeks were burning red now, the flush spreading up to the tips of his ears. Sol’s expression was a mix of stunned disbelief and something else—something heavier, like a quiet yearning he couldn’t contain.

"Oops," you said with a playful grin, holding up the mirror to show him the faint but unmistakable lipstick mark lingering on his lips. "Looks like you’re officially part of the experiment now."

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. His gaze dropped to your lips again, lingering there a moment too long before darting back to your eyes. "You... you’re really not holding back," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

"Should I?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached for another lipstick. "I think you’re holding up pretty well, Sol. You’re a surprisingly good test dummy."

Sol didn’t respond. He just stared, his lips still tingling from the kiss, his mind racing in directions he wasn’t ready to admit. His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare. You reached for the next tube—deep plum, almost black, its sleek metallic casing glinting under the dim fairy lights.  

"All right, final test," you declared, twisting the lipstick open with a satisfying click. The color was rich and bold, a shade that dared anyone to look away. You leaned in, closer than before, your breath brushing against Sol’s cheek.  

He stiffened, his head tilting slightly as though torn between leaning away and leaning in. "You’re relentless, you know that?" he muttered, his voice low and strained.  

"Let’s see how kiss-proof this one really is," you whispered, your lips curling into a playful grin.  

Before he could protest, you kissed him, deliberately slower this time. The plush warmth of your lips pressed deeper against his lips, lingering longer than any of the others. Sol’s breath hitched audibly, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as his tension melted into something softer. When you pulled back, you admired your work: a perfect, bold imprint on his pale red lips, perfect and center.  

You shifted slightly, cupping his chin with your hand to turn his face toward you. His eyes were half-lidded, his dark lashes casting shadows against his flushed cheeks. He looked wrecked in the most endearing way.  

"Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already," you teased, your thumb brushing the edge of his jaw.  

Sol didn’t answer. He seemed dazed, his lips slightly parted as though the words had escaped him entirely. Undeterred, you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his temple this time, your lips lingering against the curve of his hairline.  

"Still intact," you murmured, half to yourself as you pulled back and inspected your own lips in the mirror.  

Sol blinked, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it. The next kiss landed on the bridge of his nose, soft and playful, and the one after that trailed down to the corner of his mouth.  

"Okay, this one’s holding up really well," you remarked, leaning back to evaluate the results. You laughed softly at the kaleidoscope of lipstick stains that now adorned his face—a collection of reds, pinks, and purples, each mark a testament to your experiment.  

"Sol?" you prompted, tilting your head as you noticed his unusually quiet demeanor.  

He blinked again, his gaze focused on you but far away.  

"Hello? Earth to Sol—" You waved a hand in front of his face, but before you could finish the thought, his hand shot up, gently catching yours mid-wave.  

You froze, startled by the suddenness of the movement and the look in his eyes—smoldering and uncharacteristically intense.  

"Huh…" you trailed off as he guided your hand down, his fingers curling over yours in a firm but careful grip.  

"Enough," Sol murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.  

Before you could process the shift, he moved. In one smooth, almost predatory motion, he pressed you back into the couch, his weight pinning you against the cushions. Your back hit the fabric with a soft thud, and his hands found your wrists, holding them gently but securely above your head.  

"Sol—"  

"You're impossible," he said softly, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His dark hair fell messily into his eyes, and his gaze burned with something raw, something that made your chest tighten.  

You stared up at him, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts as he leaned closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The space between you felt impossibly small, the room charged with a quiet intensity that neither of you dared to break.  

"All those kisses," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your cheek as his lips curved into a teasing smirk. "And you still act like you’re in control."  

Your heart raced, the world outside the living room forgotten entirely. "Sol, I—"  

But his expression softened, his grip on your wrists loosening slightly. "I think," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "it’s my turn to test your limits, pumpkin."  

Oh shit.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

It’s one of those crisp afternoons, the air just cool enough to send a slight shiver down your spine as you sit on a bench by the archery range. The college campus is quiet, with students scattered here and there, but your attention is entirely on him—Geo. 

The archery field is his domain. He doesn’t know it yet, but you’ve got a plan that will catch him off guard.

Geo stands tall at the center of the field, adjusting his posture with precision, his focus entirely on the target in front of him. The sun casts a soft, golden light across his pale skin, making his aquamarine eyes seem even sharper. He’s dressed in a simple, black, form-fitting athletic shirt, paired with tight-fitting cargo pants that hug his long legs. 

His boots are rugged, the kind that make him look even more intimidating as he stands tall and composed. His hair, dark bluish-purple, is tied back neatly in a low ponytail, the bowl cut framing his face in a way that makes his expression appear even more brooding.

Despite his best efforts to look aloof, there’s something about him that calls for attention. His movements are deliberate, almost as if he knows he’s being watched. You lean back slightly, pretending to be absorbed in the scene but really just observing him, thinking about the plan you’ve hatched.

Geo pulls his bowstring back with precision, his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he takes aim. Everything about him is calculated, a display of discipline honed through years of practice. You bite your lip in anticipation, then grab the lipstick from your bag, uncapping it with a soft click. The color is a deep red, the kind that will stand out against his pale skin. You’ve decided: it’s time to throw him off just a little.

You stand up quietly, making your way to where Geo is, and as you approach, your heart beats a little faster. The air around you feels charged with the quiet energy he exudes. Geo is too focused on the target, his fingers inching toward the release. You take a deep breath, then step forward just as he releases the arrow.

Before he can even blink, you lean forward and plant a bold, quick kiss to his cheek, the lipstick leaving a bright red mark against his pale skin. The sound of the arrow shooting through the air fills the silence as you pull back, watching the surprise flash across his face.

Geo’s eyes widen for the briefest moment. He freezes for a split second, just enough for you to see his cheeks flush under his usual stoic exterior, the pale hue quickly warming to something deeper. The arrow he released flies off course, landing just beside the target rather than hitting the bullseye as it usually does.

He’s caught off guard.

You step back slightly, a mischievous grin on your face. “Missed it,” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Geo’s gaze shifts to you, his expression darkening. His lips part, and for a moment, it’s like the weight of the world shifts. "What the hell?" His voice is low, his tone not entirely angry, but certainly perplexed.

For someone who’s always so controlled, so composed, you’ve definitely managed to make him lose that edge. He quickly recovers, wiping his cheek with his sleeve, and for a second, you wonder if you pushed him too far. But then you see the slightest tug of a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t do that again,” he warns, but there’s no heat in his words—just that familiar sharpness that seems to be his natural state. It’s clear he’s still processing, but you can tell this little moment has left its mark on him.

You smile back, not backing down. "I thought I’d get your attention. Looks like I did."

Geo shakes his head, his smirk growing as he nocks another arrow. "You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into," he mutters under his breath, but you can hear the playful challenge behind it.

Despite his usual brooding demeanor, you can’t help but notice the slight curve of his lips as he prepares to take another shot. It seems that, for once, he’s not quite as untouchable as he wants everyone to think. You can feel the tension in the air as Geo reaches for another arrow, but you’re already plotting your next move. The excitement bubbling inside you is hard to contain—this is more fun than you thought it would be.

Geo draws his bow back again, taking aim with the kind of precision only someone like him could master. But before he can release it, you lean forward just enough to interrupt his concentration, tapping his shoulder lightly with a teasing smile. 

“What now?” he asks, his voice as gruff as always, though you can detect a hint of amusement hiding in his eyes. “You want me to miss again?”

You shrug innocently. "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see if I could make you blush again." You let the words hang in the air, watching as his expression shifts. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a moment, you're convinced he’s actually considering the idea of doing something more than just shooting arrows.

Geo takes a deep breath, clearly trying to regain his focus, but before he can, you lean in—this time, a little bolder. You press another quick kiss to his neck line, leaving a fresh red mark on his pale skin. And just like last time, he freezes—eyes wide, jaw slightly ajar.

The arrow that should’ve been heading for the bullseye instead veers wildly off course, missing the target completely and burying itself in the grass.

You burst out laughing. "Not so precise anymore, huh?"

Geo whips his head toward you, eyes narrowed in something between surprise and irritation. “Are you trying to sabotage me?” he growls, though you can see the amusement hiding behind his scowl.

You’re still laughing, clearly enjoying yourself far too much, and that’s when Geo decides to do something about it.

With a swift motion, he reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can step back, his fingers tightening around it just enough to stop you from making any more cheeky moves. You stare at him, caught off guard for a moment—he’s not known for being touchy, but here he is, holding you in place.

"Alright, enough of this," he says, his voice suddenly less gruff and more playful, though his eyes still carry that glint of challenge. "If you think you can distract me with kisses, you’re mistaken."

You grin up at him, unfazed by his grip on your wrist. "Oh? Then you should’ve seen what happened when you missed your shot," you tease. “I think the whole campus heard your arrow crash into the grass.”

Geo rolls his eyes, but the faintest smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Don’t think this is over,” he warns, his grip on your wrist tightening a little more, though it’s more playful than threatening. "You’re gonna regret this, trust me."

“You sure about that?” you quip back, your voice filled with playful defiance.

Geo raises an eyebrow at your defiant tone, clearly weighing his options. For a second, you swear there’s a flicker of something almost... fond? It vanishes just as quickly, replaced by his usual broody persona. “I could have you running laps around this field by the end of the day,” he threatens, though his eyes are twinkling with the unmistakable sign of a challenge.

“Make me,” you shoot back, tugging your wrist free from his grasp just enough to push your luck a little further. 

Geo chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

“Yeah, all for you~” you tease, throwing him a wink.

Geo doesn’t acknowledge the comment, but the corner of his mouth lifts just a little higher this time. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Despite the gruff exterior, you’ve managed to ruffle his feathers just enough to see a side of him that’s not all business. 

And honestly? 

You kind of like it.

As you step away, pretending to give him space, you can feel his eyes on you. You’re not sure if he’s still trying to figure out what the hell just happened or if he’s plotting his revenge. 

Either way, you’re all in for whatever comes next.

Geo steadies himself, the bow string pulled taut as he lines up another shot. But the second you lean in, it’s like the world goes into slow motion. You can see his shoulders tense, his jaw clenching slightly as you get closer. He knows exactly what you're doing. His grip tightens on the bow, and for a split second, you think he might just let the arrow fly—into the target this time.

But before he can fully focus, you press a soft, teasing kiss to his bottom jaw again, the lipstick leaving a fresh red print. 

Geo’s eyes snap wide open in surprise, his finger twitching against the bowstring. “You—” He cuts himself off, trying to maintain his composure, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him, his pale skin turning a shade darker. The arrow in his hand nearly slips from his grasp as he blinks in confusion. 

You pull back just enough to see his expression, a mix of shock and that brooding intensity you’re so used to. His lips twitch, a barely-there smirk playing at the corners, more like disbelief?

However there’s something else in his eyes now—something... tempting.

"Alright," he growls lowly, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, "You want to play that game, huh?"

Before you can even react, he’s closing the space between you, his hands gripping your wrists with surprising tenderness, pulling you in with a quick, deliberate motion. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s more intense than anything you expected. The rush of warmth from his lips against yours sends a little shock of electricity through you, and your breath catches.

Geo’s kiss isn’t soft or tentative. No, it’s like he’s trying to make a statement—daring you to say something, to break the moment. You feel the pressure of his lips, firm and demanding, and you can tell he’s not just kissing you for fun anymore. There’s something deeper in it now. The playfulness has shifted into something a little more heated.

You’re breathless when he pulls away just enough to speak, his voice husky, dark with amusement. “Now you’ve really done it.”

You blink up at him, dazed from the sudden shift in his demeanor. “I didn’t think you’d actually kiss me back, especially on the lips” you tease, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heat crawling up your neck.

Geo doesn’t smile—he just stares at you, eyes dark with the challenge of it all. His hands still rest lightly on your wrists, but now they feel heavier, almost like he’s holding you in place. “You should’ve known better.”

Before you can reply, he gently lets go of your wrists, his gaze lingering just a little longer than you’d like. The air between you two is thick now—charged with the energy of the moment, and there’s a sense that things are about to get even more complicated. You’ve managed to crack his icy exterior, but you’re not entirely sure what that means for either of you.

Geo turns back to the target without another word, grabbing another arrow. His focus is entirely back on the bullseye, but there’s an undeniable smirk on his lips now. And the way his fingers curl around the bow, steady and sure, tells you that this game is far from over. 

“You missed your shot earlier,” you say playfully, “Think you’ll actually hit the target this time?”

Geo shoots you a look over his shoulder, a glint in his aquamarine eyes. "Watch me," he mutters, before losing the arrow. 

It’s a perfect shot—dead center. He doesn’t even flinch as the arrow hits the target. 

“Well, damn,” you say, impressed. “I guess I’ll just have to distract you more often.”

Geo doesn't respond at first, but the smirk that pulls at his lips says it all. "Keep trying me, and you’ll get something worse," he murmurs an warning, almost to himself. 

And just like that, you realize—he enjoys this more than he lets on.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[alluvthegurlz]

GORGEOUS //

❝︎ i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way ❞︎

pairing || drew starkey x actress!reader

summary || drew and actress!reader meet for the first time at a party. with the help of some certain, meddling co-stars.

content || alcohol, pining, obx cast meddling, parties, a little suggestive at the end

yaps-a-lot || ‘gorgeous’ by taylor swift was on repeat so here we are. ending is a little rusty it’s been a while since i’ve written anything so bare with me :)

“just go talk to him.”

“absolutely not,” you protested quickly. madelyn and madison have spent the better part of an hour trying to get you to even look in the direction of their co-star who mingled across the room. none other than drew starkey. “i can’t say anything to his face, are you kidding?”

“why not?” madelyn whispered a little harshly.

“cause look at him!” you motioned a panicked hand in his direction as madelyn scoffed quietly. the roll of her eyes playful but not any less meaningful.

“you guys have been avoiding each other for months,” she reminded. “you can’t keep walking the other way when you run into each other on set.”

“it’s worked for me this long,” the tight lipped smile that followed was enough for madison to finally whine this time.

“c’mon,” mads whined. “you guys would be so good together.”

“says who?”

“everyone!” the two girls practically shouted.

you looked around the party slowly when everyone had looked over at the three of you. ignoring the shocked stares from everyone before you downed the rest of your drink, the liquor burning your throat that had you almost coughing it back up.

“jesus christ, i don’t think the people above us heard that,” you grumbled. “try it louder next time.”

you tried to walk away before madelyn was grabbing your arms and pulling you back. “nooooo, no, no. c’mon. just give him a chance. he’s seriously a good guy, there’s no need for this back and forth between you two.”

“there’s no back and forth between us because there’s nothing between us,” you offered stiffly.

madison had snuck off as madelyn’s pouted lips pouted even more as she held you in place.

“i think we both know that’s not true,” she joked.

you sighed a little heavily, letting yourself look back over at drew across the room. he was barely paying attention to the conversation that was going on between chase and jd, putting in a few words here and there, but he was two busy watching the party around the rim of his cup.

the music drowned into nothing as you watched him. his ocean blue eyes scanning the party like he was looking for something. or someone maybe. you.

it’s like the party froze when he met your eyes. the music muffled by the sound of the blood rushing to your ears, the hitch of your breath suddenly the loudest thing in the room as he sent the smallest of smiles your way. if you were being honest, you actually had no reason to avoid him on set. it was just the nerves really, which was weird for everyone to see cause you rarely got nervous around people. the last time you were nervous around someone was when you had met meryl streep on a red carpet one time. that was the only time anyone had seen you nervous simply because you were too starstruck.

so how in the hell was drew the only other one to get you to act that way?

the only thing that could break your eyes from him, was when they caught sight of madison walking up to him. you watched for a few seconds, watching her explain something before pointing in your direction.

“mm, nope. bye,” the second madison was dragging him over, you were turning around and sneaking away before madelyn could even grab you.

you didn’t stick around to hear what conversation had followed, weaving your way through the bustling party that seemed to get all that more stuffy the second madelyn and mads had started their tirade against you.

maybe it’s because you were freaking out slightly, or it was the alcohol.

the alcohol was the easiest thing to blame. it had worked in any situation before…so why wouldn’t it work in this one? you were definitely too tipsy to be left alone with the one co star everyone in that room was trying to set you up with. two young actors, both single, both incredibly hot, and both avoiding the person right in front of them. typical!

dating had been…hard, so to speak in the past. it was just something you couldn’t seem to enjoy. these days people were only after the idea of sleeping with the actress that everyone loved. they weren’t looking for an actual date that could lead to something. safe to say, the dating life was pretty much nonexistent.

and drew starkey was not going to be the one to break that streak.

another shot later and you were buzzing. maybe a little numb. definitely tipsy. it was hard to tell at that point.

“so, this is what my co-stars do at parties?” a voice sounded from behind you causing you to freeze. “ignore everyone and throw back shots.”

he was teasing, you could tell. you could even hear the slight smirk on his face before you looked over your shoulder slowly.

and sure as shit…drew starkey was behind you.

“it’s, uh —“ you cleared your throat. “helps with the nerves,” a short nod followed from you as the smile on his face grew. “lotta people.”

“people make you nervous?”

no. not at all. he made you nervous.

“sometimes,” you managed the confession through a whisper.

your eyes darted back to the drinks table in front of you, trying to find your next victim before settling on an easy mixed drink.

a quiet chuckle fell from his lips as he leaned against the table beside you, his own cup still resting comfortably in his hands and a hand in his pocket before he watched the party.

“you girls sure know how to throw a party,” he complimented. you, madelyn, and madison had been planning this party for months. one to celebrate the beginning of filming that started a little over two weeks ago.

“that’s all maddie and madison,” you brushed off. “i just supplied the alcohol,” you joked, holding up the liquor bottle to show it off as he looked over before pouring it into your cup.

he laughed again, a genuine one with a duck of his head. your nerves eased a little at the sound, the alcohol running through your system relaxing you even more.

you turned around, leaning back against the table with him as you carefully sipped away at your drink quietly. trying to avoid looking at him at any cost in all honesty.

you should’ve been mad at him. furious even for the way he was making you feel. this…nervous. that wasn’t normal.

god, he was so gorgeous.

the deep breath that escaped you had him curious, looking over at you as you caught it through the corner of your eye. the way his eyes tried to catch yours — it was making this worse. everything was so much easier when you could just ignore him. but the way you hugged your cup carefully to your chest, he couldn’t help but stare at you.

for a man who hadn’t said more than a few words to you, the magnetic field around him was a little too strong, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. a silent glance towards him, a breath hitching at the back of your throat, every nervous swallow had you on your toes.

anyone else you had talked to with ease. like everyone was an old time friend with whom you were catching up with for the first time in years. he should be taking it as a compliment really that you were talking to everyone there but him.

something snapped you back into reality when he placed a careful hand on your ribs suddenly. reaching over for an unopened bottle of beer behind you. caging you between himself and the table, you were suddenly very aware of…everything.

the smell of his cologne, the t-shirt you wore that was well loved — stretched but not noticeable if you hadn’t been three inches from it — even the faint alcohol smell coming from him. it all grew tenfold when he had reached over you.

“sorry,” he apologized in a whisper you could barely hear.

“‘t’s okay,” you gave a small smile.

you followed as he leaned back once again, popping the bottle open with ease.

it would’ve done better to maybe be more mindful of where your eyes traveled. to respect him a little more like he deserved…but you just couldn’t help it. the way his shirt rode up a little and revealed the waist of his underwear when he ran a hand through his hair…it had you nervous all over again.

you cleared your throat again, taking a sip of your drink. he’d caught your eye for only a second, another smile growing on his face before he hid it behind the neck of his beer bottle when he drank some.

“so, what’s after this?” his question was a curious one, a hand motioning to the party before it scratched at the back of his neck.

you took a deep breath, taking a moment to think about it. the alcohol had hit your system now, the nerves dying down to nothing more than a light tingle. it’s what kept you alive.

“oh, you know…probably just gonna stumble on home to my cats,” the tease fell from your smiling lips with a shrug of your shoulder. your feet carrying you away back into the party and leaving drew alone just like you two had started the night. “unless you wanna come along?”

[synthetickitsune]

Mingyu (SVT) | Bath bombs fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

You believe in humor. 

He believes in cuteness.

So that’s how you ended up facing a dilemma that you’d never think you’d have - whose bath bomb will get used first?

His, naturally, is honestly too pretty to be allowed to just fizz out into nothing. A little beige fluffy looking puppy. Adorable, beautiful, perfect. You’d feel like a monster pulling it under water.

And yours is a toaster.

It’s funny, okay? And cute too, just in a different way. Maybe you should’ve just gone bath bomb shopping to the store together instead of shopping online where the options were limitless.

Mingyu chuckles when he sees you pout looking at the two options. He hugs you from behind, leaning his head against yours. You know he finds it funny - and honestly it is. Every second standing in front of the two options you commit into your memory because you’re happy and life is good, and you get to have little breakdowns because of something as silly as a bath bomb.

“Let’s use yours when we’re having a bad day, hm?” he suggests and you laugh out loud, finally releasing the tension in your body, and nod.

“So you mean right after we finish this bath, right? Because my day’s about to get significantly worse if we’re sacrificing this beauty,” you sigh as you run a finger over the puppy’s snout. It fits so perfectly into your palm - how are you supposed to kill it?!

“It’s his fate, baby,” Mingyu reminds you, a smile in his voice, because he loves how deeply you appreciate the little details of everything. He hugs you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a masterpiece,” you insist. 

“No, you are,” he coos into your ear and chuckles when you roll your eyes and call him cringy. You sigh softly. If only you could stop time right now. With your boyfriend pressed against you, squeezing you like he can hold you together, come what may, little puppy in your palm, and the prospect of a long, hot bath in front of you.

“The water will get cold,” he nudges his nose into your cheek, “Let’s get in.”

You give Mingyu a stern look when you hand him the puppy to safely join him in the tub. He just watches with his dumb smile and lip between his teeth, his eyes basically heart shaped and never leaving your body. He does hold the bath bomb above the water though, so you let him get away with being cheesy despite the heat rising to your cheeks that has nothing to do with the hot water.

You stifle a moan when you let your shoulders dip below the surface and the warmth that envelops your tense muscles begins working its magic. All thoughts evacuate your mind. There’s just the feeling of your bones turning into jelly and your legs brushing against Mingyu’s. The only thing that could elevate this experience to perfection would be some nice, relaxing scent…

“Love? It’s time,” he says gently, chuckling at the frown tugging at your face upon your moment of peace being disrupted, “We need to let him go.”

You reluctantly straighten up and look at the puppy still resting in your boyfriend’s palm. Giving the bath bomb one last pat, you guide his hand down and watch as the puppy starts floating and slowly dissipating. It feels strangely like a funeral full of colors and bubbles, and the bathroom fills with a fresh scent. Are you a monster when you melt back into the warm bath again after sparing one last thought for the puppy?

“Better?” Mingyu asks, leaning back himself. You just give him a nod.

“I promise I’ll be less dramatic with the toaster one,” you hum. He gives you a sceptical look. “I’ll just throw it in. You’ll be dramatic and act like you’re getting electrocuted.”

“Hey!” he pouts, kicking you lightly under the water, “Why am I the one dying?”

“To make me laugh?” you flutter your eyelashes at him with the sweetest smile. He opens his mouth and closes it just as fast, the pout remains on his lips but his eyes soften. Victory.

You laugh and lean forward, easily catching his lips in a kiss. He sighs against your mouth, but as always he’s already thinking about the best way to execute the scene. Because he’s wrapped around your finger like that.

[duhshereadz]

A revision of Ekko and Jinx’s ending because I think we all know they deserved to be together:

Ekko stood amidst the ruins of what once was, the matchstick trembling in his fingers. He stared at the paper—a ghost of the girl he used to know, the girl he had lost. Jinx. Gone. He’d told himself he’d moved on, but it was a lie. He hadn’t. He couldn’t.

The flame consumed the edge of the paper, curling it inward. The drawing burned slowly, and for a moment, it felt like everything burned with it—his memories, his hope, his guilt.

As the embers died and he let the ashes drift from his palm, a voice, soft and unnervingly familiar, pierced the stillness.

"That’s not how you should say goodbye to someone."

Ekko froze, his breath catching. His blood turned to ice, then fire, as he whirled around. She stood there, bathed in the dim light of the city’s chaos, her hair wild and vivid, her expression caught somewhere between a smirk and sorrow.

“Jinx?” he breathed, disbelief cracking his voice.

Her eyes, that eerie, unnatural pink, softened for just a second. “The one and only.”

For a moment, he could only stare, his heart pounding against his ribs. Every emotion he’d buried clawed its way to the surface—grief, rage, joy, confusion. He stepped closer, his hands clenching and unclenching. “You’re alive?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Vi said—she told me you were dead.”

“She needed to think that,” Jinx replied, her voice quiet, almost fragile. “It had to stay that way. For her. For everyone.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Ekko snapped, anger flashing in his eyes. “She thinks she failed you! She thinks you’re gone because of her. Hell, I—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “You let us believe you were dead? Why?”

Jinx’s gaze flickered, her smile fading. “Because I couldn’t stay. Not after everything. Not after Silco. Powder died a long time ago, Ekko. And Jinx... Jinx doesn’t fit in their world. She never did.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ekko shot back, his voice breaking. “You could’ve come back. We would’ve found a way.”

She shook her head, her laugh bitter and sharp. “No, you wouldn’t. You all deserve to be happy. Vi, Cait, you... You deserve a future without me screwing it up.” Her voice wavered as she added, “You’re better without me.”

Ekko stared at her, his chest tightening. “You think disappearing fixes anything? You think leaving makes it hurt less? You don’t get to decide that for us, Jinx!”

Her breath hitched, and for a second, the mask cracked. “I had to. Don’t you get it? I destroy everything I touch. Vi... Silco... even you, Ekko. The last thing I wanted was to ruin you too.”

“You didn’t ruin me,” he said, his voice dropping, softer now. “You’re not a bomb waiting to go off, Jinx. You’re—you’re just hurt. And maybe we all failed you, but that doesn’t mean you had to run.”

The words hung heavy between them, both of them locked in the weight of their shared history. She shifted uncomfortably, wrapping her arms around herself like she was bracing for impact. “I didn’t run. I left so you wouldn’t have to watch me fall apart.”

Ekko stepped closer, his voice a raw whisper. “I would’ve stayed. I would’ve fought for you. I—I still would.”

Jinx’s eyes flickered up to meet his, something trembling and uncertain in her gaze. “You’re an idiot, Ekko.”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into a sad smile. “Guess I always was when it came to you.”

She looked down, her voice cracking. “You shouldn’t have to carry me anymore.”

“I’m not letting you go,” Ekko said firmly. “Not again.”

For a moment, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. And then, slowly, her arms dropped to her sides, and she stepped forward, closing the space between them. Ekko felt her hands curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, holding her tight, like if he let go, she’d vanish all over again.

“I missed you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “More than anything.”

He swallowed hard, his voice shaking. “You don’t get to say that and walk away again, Jinx. You don’t.”

She pulled back, just enough to look at him, her fingers brushing his cheek. “I can’t stay here, Ekko. Not in Zaun. Not with everything I’ve done.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Her eyes widened, panic flickering across her face. “Ekko—no. This is my mess.”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “I’m not losing you again. Wherever you’re going, I’m going too.”

Jinx hesitated, her breath hitching. For once, the chaos in her eyes seemed to still. “You’d really leave everything behind? The Firelights? Zaun?”

“You’re worth it,” he said simply.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at him. And then, slowly, her lips quirked into a fragile smile, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his.

“You’re so stupid, Little Man,” she murmured.

“And you’re still impossible,” he replied, a faint chuckle breaking through the tension.

She kissed him then, fierce and messy and desperate, like it was both a promise and an apology. When they broke apart, her hand lingered on his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

And together, they turned toward the shadows, leaving the ruins of their past behind.

[rebelliousstories]

Spencer Reid SFW Alphabet

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Cases, Mentions of Alcohol, Brief Angst

Word Count: 3,184

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Consider Donating: Here

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

This is really going to depend on how two things: how long you are into your relationship and what season we’re talking about.

Early seasons plus early in the relationship means that he’s going to be a bit more reserved in his affections. Very rarely will he do more than stand near you if you’re in public together. However, early seasons and later in the relationship will grant you hand holding in public, maybe a peck on your cheek if you are lucky.

Now later seasons, I’m talking no earlier than season eight, he’s more alright with PDA. He’ll definitely insist on holding hands, and he absolutely will get upset when you don’t for whatever reason. Spencer is more prone to kissing in public, especially if he’s had a few drinks with the team.

In private though, no matter the season, once he’s comfortable with you, he’s holding you. Reid loves to hold you in his arms, tucked up against him so that he can feel your body heat. Away from prying eyes is when he is less reserved about his affections. He also really loves laying in your arms, so long as you pick a good book to read to him while he lays his head on your chest.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Reid is a goofy Gubler. We all see how he is with the team, and you can definitely expect more of that. He adores having someone that he can turn to for whatever it is. Whether that is someone to cry with, laugh with, or just spend time in silence with. Also, having someone to geek out with is always appreciated.

I could see you meeting at either a bookstore or comic convention, that is if you’re not in the FBI already. No matter if it’s a bookstore or comic convention, I can definitely see you both reaching for the same thing, and he cracks a joke unintentionally about how you both could just split it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

You really think this man doesn’t like to cuddle? Oh, no. You’re mistaken. He will insist on cuddles. There is nothing more that he loves, especially when he comes home from a case.

If it’s a normal day, or if you’re upset, he’s the big spoon. Spencer loves to have you facing him so that he can watch you sleep, in the least creepy way possible. Tucking you into him, feeling your body heat, heart beat, and soft breaths escaping your nose; all of that makes him feel better. It helps him know that you’re there with him. You’re not a figment of his imagination.

However, if he’s had a long case, a bad day; Spencer is the little spoon. It’s almost comical how he’s able to curl his body up into such a tiny little ball. But this man is going to need one arm wrapped around him, the other hand in his hair, and you reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. It’s the one time that Reid is the quietest, so feel free to spout on about something random. Listening to someone else ramble is soothing to the number one rambler.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Spencer was a child prodigy; this man cannot cook to save his life. Not unless it was an instant meal that he just had to heat up and eat. So he would be perfectly alright with someone who only knew how to make kraft Mac and cheese. But if you knew how to actually cook, well, you might just be able to make this man eat properly for the first time.

Cleaning, though, he’s got that down pat. He will not, under any circumstance let you do it though. Spencer tells you it’s because he doesn’t want you to get your hands dirty, so he tells you not to clean his apartment even if you live there too. Not because he thinks you can’t, but he’s got his own process and cleaning solutions that the likes to use and he wont change them. Besides, if you’re doing the cooking, he may as well do the cleaning.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’s doing it quickly and efficiently, but no matter what, he can’t lie to you. Reid is telling you that this is for your own betterment. But he’s trying to be sensitive to your feelings while still remaining objective. It makes him feel awful, but he does it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Spencer won’t rush into an engagement, even if he feels it’s time. He’s trying to contain himself and the ring, as he waits for your reaction to when he brings up marriage or children. While he wants to spend the rest of his life with you the second he knows it in his heart, he still needs you to realize it. Especially since he doesn’t pick up on social queues very well still, and occasionally needs a little help from someone like Morgan or Hotch. Cause he is not going to Rossi about that.

There is nothing more that he wants in the world to call you his forever though.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Spencer is a gentle giant. His hands are always soft somehow, and he touched you like you’re made of glass half the time. Feather-light touches that will trace random shapes on your skin. He loves to nuzzle his face into your neck and just stay there. The other half is spent tackling you into bear hugs because he hasn’t seen you in a week as he has been on the other side of the country. When he decides that he is getting affection, there is nothing stopping him.

Emotionally, Reid is sensitive but not in the way that you would think. He’s not the type to outright say how he’s feeling on account of his job. But if you prompt him, and get him into a safe state of mind, he’ll mention things casually. It’s especially weird though when he mentions something traumatic in the same way that someone talks about the weather. But with you he’s always there to lend an ear. Just be sure to tell him if you want a solution or to vent, because he needs a second to restructure his brain.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ugh… a hug from Spencer is something that has the power to change your entire day. He adores hugs. They can mean so many things, and each one is alright with him. If you live with him, he’s getting one right before he leaves, and the second you are both home. He’ll squeeze you extra tight if he comes back for his go bag and you’re there in the apartment.

Early season Reid, when he’s still a little noodley, has to wrap you in tight because he doesn’t have the beef to pour what he wants into the hug. Later seasons when he muscles up just a bit are a bit different, because he now has more mass to wrap around you.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This man waits, I mean, WAITS, to say it. He’s very slow to trust given his background and job, but once he does, it’s not too much more difficult to worm into that romantic side. Once he knows he does love you, Reid is giving it about two or three months before he finally works up the courage to say it. But once he does, he can’t stop saying it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

A feeling that he is not too attune to. Spencer is very sure of himself most of the time. Not only does his credentials and just having you by his side help his self-esteem, but he’s also just very sure in your relationship. Reid isn’t too worried about you being tempted most of the time, and certainly not himself.

Yet, when he does, it’s deprecating towards his own self. Sometimes, Spencer is terrified that you are going to realize that he’s not the right man for you; not funny enough, not handsome enough, not cool enough, or something of the sort. The kind of thing that he really only thinks about when his walls have been worn down anyways. But when he does, he retreats into himself, looking a bit like a kicked puppy but refusing to go up to make a fool of himself.

Just come over and fawn over him for a little while, and he’ll be back to your lover boy in a second as he becomes putty in your hands.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Under no circumstances do you need to think about sleepy little kisses when he gets back from a case and you’re already asleep, and he’s exhausted. Don’t think about it.

Now that you’re not thinking about that, Spencer kisses you like he’ll never kiss you again no matter where or when. He’s terrified, because of his job and the nature of it, that you might be taken from him. So he always makes sure that the last thing he says is, “I love you,” and the last thing he does is kiss you fiercely. He does have smaller pecks when he’s just moving about the apartment and you cross paths, but he prefers to kiss you properly. But each time, no matter where he kisses you or where you two are, he’s putting so much love in them.

Other than the lips, Reid loves kissing you on top of his head. Being as tall as he is, it’s very difficult to be taller than him. Which makes this the ideal spot for him. On the other hand, he loves when you kiss his neck and chest. There is just something so intimate about the placement that he can’t get enough of. And it doesn’t help that he flushes the prettiest pink when he’s blushes as you pepper kisses down his bare neck and chest.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Have you seen him with Henry? Those kids don’t stand a chance with him as their dad. Spencer is getting them involved with all things geeky, nerdy, and studious before they can walk or talk. I’m serious, he’s got a book called, “Baby’s Quantum Physics”. This man is getting them started young. He also learns American Sign Language so that they can communicate with their parents easier before speaking.

He’s also reading them the same books that his mom read to him when he was a child. And while he wants his kids to like the same things he does, he also respects them if they have other interests, like sports. While he can’t really participate, he’ll read about all about it and gladly talk history with them.

Make him a girl dad, and he will gladly introduce positive female role models into his daughter’s life, like Marilyn Monroe, or Marie Curie. Oh, and he doesn’t complain about tea parties, princess dress up, makeovers, or hair days. And yes, before you ask, Spencer is learning how to do all sorts of hairstyles for his daughter.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

This honestly depends.

If he’s home, and doesn’t have work that day, everything is slow. The fastest thing he does that morning is making coffee for the both of you. He leaves you in bed, makes the delicious nectar of the gods, and puts it on a tray to bring back to you. Spencer slips underneath the covers, and happily helps you sit up to also enjoy your beverage; made just the way you like. With no schedule to keep, he just enjoys staying in bed with nothing to do except read and spend time with you.

If he’s got work, he’ll be going fast. Reid loves to sleep in, but that comes at a cost most mornings. In order to get to work, he’s got to time the metro just right. He’ll make a coffee to go, and leave yours in a thermos to keep it at the perfect temperature for when you wake up.

N = Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Again, we’ve got a few different ways this can play out.

He’s home, without work, it’s a slow evening just like the morning. Making dinner is a team endeavor, with both of you retiring to the couch to binge watch a new docu-series he found, talking about different facts that relate to it and providing an additional point of view. It’s comfy, peaceful, and just lovely.

If he’s home, but he’s had a day at work without leaving for a case, he is usually home right about the time you finish up dinner. By the time he gets changed and is in a much comfier state, the food is ready to go on the coffee table along with drinks and silverware. Spencer tends to be a little bit quieter on these nights, but he still wants to talk about your day with you. Asking about his day is a hit or miss. Sometimes he will talk about his day, the antics in the office or a few details from his short cases. Sometimes, he’ll brush everything off, knowing that he’ll talk to you about it eventually.

But if he’s getting back from a long case, domestic or in another state, he’s quiet. Usually because he’s getting back in the wee hours of the night, bordering on the next morning. His bones are heavy, his heart heavier, but he manages to pull his tie and shoes off before collapsing into bed next to you, not bothering to remove anything else.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Spencer is definitely the type to slowly reveal things about himself. Now, not to say that once he gets comfy with you, he won’t trauma dump occasionally, but in the beginning, he’s very careful. The last thing he wants is for you to get scared off by him or his past. But when he does reveal things, it’s usually in the safety of his apartment once he’s had some food and perhaps a glass of wine. Although the wine is not but once in a blue moon.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This man is the pinnacle of patience. He gets frustrated easily, don’t mistake it. But he’s not very quick to anger. The only time he’s getting angry is when his family is threatened in some fashion, and that includes you. But his job has taught him that he needs to tamp down on those bouts of anger in order to be the best brainiac he can be.

Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You’re kidding right? He makes sure to read receipts when you two go out together to make sure that eidetic memory works properly. Reid can remember things by sound alone but he likes to be doubly sure. He makes sure to remember every little thing about you. And if someone asks if you like something? Prepare to get yapped at by this man.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first double date he had with Morgan and Savannah with you on his arm. He couldn’t believe how Morgan immediately welcomed you into the fold, Savannah too. Spencer valued Morgan’s opinion so much, so to know that he instantly loved you almost as much as Spencer did… that was enough to know that he had found the one.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Quite protective. I mean he is an FBI agent; this man knows things. He’s got a security alarm set once you move in as a precaution. Reid will hopefully convince you to take a firearms course so that you can conceal carry at least. If not, he’s leaving a gun where you can reach it, just in case.

For him though, Spencer just needs you to be there for him. Emotional security is what he needs in his life. Physical is fine; he carries a gun everywhere, knows how to fight, has been to prison. There is a void though in the emotional department that he desperately needs to be filled.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; it depends. Spencer never wants to put date nights on nights where he knows that he’s going to be exhausted. He prefers to have time to plan stuff like that. Anniversaries would have to take into account his job. Usually the first Friday or Saturday after he gets back from a case, if he was gone for it, is the makeup date. Although there is a standing Thursday date night every week that could be for anything. Gifts are carefully selected and maybe made if he’s making you something he’s knitting.

And, come on. Spencer is going to show you he loves you each time you’re together, no matter how mundane the task. Especially in the grocery store. He’s in charge of the list because you will miss something to get that his brain won’t.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

One particularly bad habit is his propensity to belittle himself. If he’s joking that’s different. But, late at night, when he’s feeling vulnerable and scared, that’s when you need to come in and tell him otherwise.

His other bad habit is not eating. The receptionist in the lobby of Quantico has come to know your face and name very quickly. She also knows exactly who to buzz you in for, and why you’re there based off of the heavy sigh that leaves you the second you get inside.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not terribly, but it wasn’t always like that. In the beginning, he was super worried about how you would respond to how he looked. Spencer was aware that he was not the most conventionally attractive man in the world, his tie was perpetually crooked, and he couldn’t get his hair under control.

But once he started dating you, Reid realized that you didn’t want hm to change the way he looked, which really helped with his self esteem. And having you in his apartment to help straighten out his tie in morning also helped.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If you were gone, he would be devastated. It didn’t matter if you were dead or just too far, Spencer was hoping that you were right there with him. If you were dead, Reid would mourn you for a long while, and even after he was out of that phase, he’s remembering you through the small things.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

You being of a different culture than American would be a joy for him. He’d love to learn all about your native culture; the food, language, and different cultural practices. Anything to better understand you and your family. Especially if your parent’s first language isn’t English. The first time he meets them, he’s greeting them in their mother tongue, which makes them very, very excited.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Germs, though he does get better. He also can’t stand people who talk or sing loudly during things like movies or musicals. Spencer understands that it’s part of the experience, just don’t do it too loud, ya know?

In a partner, if you shut him down in the middle of his factoid ramble, he gets quiet after. He’s so used to everyone else doing it to him, but not you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

This man sleeps like the dead. He enjoys being able to sleep in, and going to bed early. Sleep is so hard to come by when he’s out on a case so it’s nice when he gets a little extra at home. And Spencer LOVES naps. Give this man a nap, and he’s ready to go for the rest of the day. Coffee and then a nap? Perfection. Coffee plus nap plus cuddles from you? Match made in heaven.

[anomaly-hivemind]

Glad to hear your doing alright and i figured you would be tired with kinktober so it's alright take your time to write my request

The longer I wait the more I know it's gonna be good❤️

And good it is because your request is FINALLY DONE. We were taking out sweet time making sure its perfect. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Monster’s Congregation

Tags: non human genitalia, Gangbang, Bukkake, Rough Sex, impregnation, breeding, pregnancy, Overstimulation, Come as Lube praise kink, creampie, size kink, Size difference, face fucking, multiple orgasm, Piv, manhandling, groping, large cock, spitroasting, monster fucking, monster fucker, monster lover, monster x reader, teratophilia Voyeurism, biting, marking cunnilingus, knotting, double pentration, double pentration in one hole, free use, cock warming. body worship

You were watching a movie, gushing over the nonhuman character, not caring in the world about whether your friend was judging or not. Who cares if it's not human, it's sentient enough to be able to take you on its own account. If only they were real, you sigh as you think on the borderline depressing though. You’ve had an odd interest in them for as long as you can remember.

“I want that in me!” You exclaimed, grabbing hold and shaking your best friend over and over again. Who looked at you with an amused face.

“That's an alien babes.” You both look at the screen as the monster throws one of the side characters into the wall with great force.

“Exactly. A sexy sexy alien,” You flop into their lap with a whine, and she holds back a snort.

“Be careful what you wish for; you never know what's listening in.” Jay pets your head as if you were a house cat or anything with your opinion of cute enough to make an attempt to pet.

“Well, I'm manifesting this shit. I want a bunch of monsters on… sideways, upwards downwards, filling my holes all at once, now. If only! My kinks would be satisfied with only this one wish!” you ramble on for a little while, thinking about your wish and hoping to have it come true if only in your dreams so you could jill about it later.

“That's really what you want?” Jay asked you in a dry tone, almost like they didn't care. You poke their perfect face in annoyance.

“You could at least humor me a little” “I'll get you something for your birthday.” Jay gives you a half smile as they speak.

You smiled at them as they told you this, you couldn't be happier. “Like something from Bad Dragons?! Wait wait! I don’t wanna know, don't tell me. I want it to be a surprise,” You giggled as you thought of all the things that your best friend could come up with for your birthday.

You spend a couple of hours together as you continue to watch the movies until you doze off and fall asleep in Jay’s lap. They watch you sleep for a bit with glowing eyes and a smirk on their face.

When you wake up it's in your bed and you get up and head to your kitchen, to see Jay preparing a bunch of stuff in your kitchen, and half of it is stored in a couple of containers. They were cooking breakfast and lunch and maybe even some dinner as we were having some kind of cookout.

“Jay, what are you doing?” Your voice catches their attention and they look over to you with a smile.

“Happy birthday hun,” Jay goes back to making stuff.

“Thank you... So what are you doing?” you repeated and stepped closer only to trip over an ice cooler.

“I’m preparing your birthday gift, obviously, we're going on a trip. “ you roll your eyes.

“In our favorite rocket ship?

“No, now get dressed, we have to load all this in my car. “

You get dressed in your best and slutty outfit for your birthday, thinking that you might be going to a little house party with a few other friends that you know. You head back into the kitchen and smile at your friend who is staring at you with some kind of hidden emotion before cutting off the stove. Jay gives you a container of breakfast food and a water bottle. You dig into the food, always loving your bestie's cooking and you are starving. Jay finished packing everything up and put them in bags ready to be carried to their car.

After you were done with the food you helped with grabbing everything to put in the car. You loaded up and then got in the car with Jay getting in the driver seat. Jay takes you to another friend's house and you see her lovely house. You both get there but Jay only takes out a few things for the party and tells you to leave the rest. You still have a shit ton of things left in the car, like a bunch of water and some foods that didn’t need to be heated or chilled much or at all for that matter. You get some cake, chat with your friends a bit, and play a few games before Jay pulls you to the side.

“You are ready to leave, I still have to give you your birthday gift.” Jay put a hand on the swell of your back as they whispered in your ear over the music. It makes you shiver a bit as you look over at them with an excited glint in your eyes.

“Yes let's dip right now” You almost bounced in place. You yell goodbye to everyone before anyone can try to convince you both to stay any longer. You book it to the car and Jay starts to drive off, Jay tells you to take a little nap because it is going to be a long trip in your sleep you don’t see the car teleport.

You look to be in the middle of a dirt path in a dense forest. You looked over to a focused Jay who seemed to not be worried about where you both were so you didn’t worry either. Jay had their hand on your thigh, which seemed to travel upward slowly, you woke up fully and looked at their hand, slender fingers digging into your inner thigh lightly.

“We're here.” Jay looked over to you after stopping the car; you gave them a confused look. This was just a clearing in the middle of nowhere, in the forest.

“Where is here?”

“I have a lot I need to tell you first, but it’s easier to show you.” Jay gets out of the car and the curiosity causes you to follow after them.

Jay stands in the center of the open field and looks at a set of trees that curved into an archway. It was kinda hot out here if you were being honest. There was no one around for miles and no one looked like they have even been out here before.

“What are you going to show me, Jay?”

“I am a fay… well a pixie to be more specific.” You looked at them in confusion, at their words.

“Like you're into men?” Jay looked at you with twitching eyes before rolling there at your statement.

“No bitch, I’m a supernatural being.” They shake their heads and before your eyes, they start to change.

Their bodies ripped out of their clothes, and they grew unnaturally fast, while also changing to a pale whitish almost iridescent color. The white of their eyes turned black and their hair grew longer. Jay’s ears grew and moth-like wings formed from their back. You can’t help but stare, because they are so pretty and very creepy, you were looking them up and down when you saw the large appendage between their legs and your eyes widened before placing your hands in front of your face and peaking from between your fingers.

“Woo. That's a dick” You can’t take your eyes off of the mystical shaft, which was literally sparkling and glistening.

“You seem to be so surprised.” Jay’s voice was a bit deeper than it was before.

“Are you my birthday gift?” You also felt a bit hot and maybe that you were dreaming.

“No, but I can't let you have all the fun, and you're going to help me get your actual gift.” you both ignore how quick you came to terms with your best-friend being a supernatural being.

“So what's my actual gift” you may or may not have been drooling a bit as you stare at the curves of his veins creating ridges along their shimmering rod.

“I’m going to open a portal for your monsterfucker dreams to come true and summon all of them to take you. They’ll be happy to breed you like you always wanted, and then once that's completed they can stay in this world permanently.” Jay explained to you in a casual tone about what they planned out for you and you can’t help but blink for a comment.

“You're pulling my leg” You watch them shake their heads.

“No, I was actually elected for this little project, to find a home for many species like me to find a stable planet from a higher power. You are only the start of something much bigger. So happy birthday, hun,”

“Yeah, happy birthday to me, can we get started then?” You take a step closer to Jay, who’s much taller than before.

“Gladly” Jay puts you on the hood of the car with a quickness, you shiver from the cold feeling of metal.

Jay pulled your pants off and let them fall onto the ground, any attempt to close your legs was pointless with the strength Jay was using to keep them open for their exploration. They bite down on the meat of your thigh and you jump a little. Jay makes a trail of wet kisses up to your clothed core, Jay’s eyes staring up at you before they place an open mouth kiss onto your panties. You moan as you feel their tongue soaking your underwear only getting the faintest taste of you dripping behind the fabric. It stuck to your folds like duck tape and you wanted it off. To feel Jay’s actual tongue teasing your entrance instead of pushing your panties between your lower lips.

“Please take them off”

“You sure might forget to control myself and actually do the spell,” Jay smirked as their sharp nail pulled at the seam of your underwear.

“Yes, please.” Jay nods before ripping your panties off and pulls any random bits of fabric from under your ass.

Jay then brings your hips up to meet their face halfway, you are lifted off the hood when their long slimy tongue pushes deep into your pussy. A loud pleased moan escapes you as you feel the fat of your tendril-like tongue slide in and out of you, before finding a place on your clit. It was like it made you see stars and all they did was suck on it a little. You try your best to keep still but your body had other plans as it made futile attempts to squirm.

Jay starts creating symbols over your clit and you feel like something new is running through your veins. It was like the body inside of you was being set ablaze with every flick and shape Jay carefully created with their tongue. The ground started to vibrate and cracks formed into the earth, causing things to shift and pop to life. You felt yourself getting close to a climax. You pull at one of Jay’s ears and they let out a wince-like groan but stop eating you out. You feel dizzy but, at the same time, you are getting some boost in energy. Jay was literally performing magic using your pussy. You had the half in mind to look around you and open your eyes, you could see something akin to a rift forming and growing. Sucking in air at the same time you moaned out in pleasure.

As your body started to shake and tremble a large archway which was pulsing with energy opened, you only caught a hazy view of what looked like armageddon before a small cluster of beings you could only describe as monsters from the shows you liked appeared. Once they all stepped out, the rift closed, and as you were still coming down from your high. You with shaking arms sit up to get a better look at their forms

You reluctantly let Jay pull away from your wet cunt as they turned to greet the monsters that seemed to be quite buddy-buddy with each of them. You pull yourself together and sit up to watch this all go down. Each of them came up to you, and in front of you were nine monsters.

The oni comes up to you first, letting out a grumble before picking you up and putting you on the ground with surprising care, you giggled. A mix of nervousness and excitement as you looked at the massive body that was in front of you.

The oni was shaped like a man but you can tell he was far from it, that much you can tell. He had large manly hands and his nails were sharp. beastly in human form, body littering in shades of grays and reds, while his hair was a mix of blacks and sprinkled whites.

He was wearing a traditional Japanese montsuki but there were also parts of armor that were wrapped around his waist and on his shoulders. He had long pointed ears and long curved horns that headed at least a few inches to his already large height. The oni was around seven feet tall. He had wild glowing yellow eyes and shaped teeth where his canines curved up and out and the bottom went downward. Along with a pepper-colored beard that fits his chin.

“Can I get a name big guy, you know before you tear into me”

“Baru’bane” He muttered before pushing a thick finger into your hole, feeling the wetness of your cunt before pulling it out and putting his finger in his mouth. He frees himself just enough to see the angry red of his fat thick cock.

The sight of it makes your pussy throb with desire and you can't help but try and part your legs open to show that. They all get a look at how wet you are, eyeing you with hunger and impatience as if they were all going to pounce on you at any moment.

Baru’bane grips your ankles and holds them together with one hand. He pushes his red cock into your tight hole. A loud moan erupts from you, in sync with the groans of the oni now fully inside of you. Jay was watching with a smirk from the car hood. Your open mouth moaning out with each thrust was a begging invitation that the group jumped at the opportunity.

Your mouth is filled with the warm flesh of the being you could only describe as a werewolf. He was huge like the rest of the monsters that had come to your world, towering at almost nine feet tall, bulky, and covered in fur from head to clawed toes. His face had shorter hair, a snout like a wolf, and eyes like a hungry beast. Muscles bulging shrouded in fur and hair which was everywhere on him.

You looked up at the beast with teary eyes at them as he pushed his way into your mouth, gagging around him as he stretched your jaw and you could only moan as you tried to help in letting him thrust his wide knot into you. He lets out a sound akin to a howl when he finally manages to get it into your mouth.

“Since he doesn't seem to care about the introductions, I'll do the rest to save you all the trouble of asking,” Jay smirks when you try to look over at them only for the werewolf to hold your face in place. You were feeling like you were in a cloud of nice being thrust into from both ends when you heard Jay speak, you did your best to pay attention and hear what they had to say.

“ Jasindrik is the werewolf for starters, Tegarozann the minotaur, Motoros the shadow breast, Valqoba the Beastman, Naziros the dragon, he's Dakalba a top predator alien species, Urosebira pretty boy type of an elf race, and of course Nodagha the Orc.” Jay listed everyone, and you did your best to look at them while being thrust from both ends.

Baru’bane feels you clenched around him, he groans, getting ready to fill you with his seed. he lifts you up, tilting your body upright so he can fuck into you harder. You get pushed down on Jasindrik as he gets forced deeper down your throat, face deep in his fur. you gagged around him, muffled moans trying to escape and failed to do so. You feel dizzy as an orgasm ripples throughout your body.

You get filled up with the one's thick load, coating your walls in white. Your legs shake here and there and you get a second of respite when he pulls out if you. Jasindrik pulls out of your mouth and slams his cock, knot deep back inside your lips so you can take his finish, filling you up with his werewolf cum. You let out a cry as he slowly pulls out with a loud wet pop coughing up the cum you couldn't swallow.

You try to catch your breath now being empty of men, you take this moment to think about how happy you were and hoping it wasn’t a dream you would wake up from. You were limp on the ground soaking up the breaking you were having. You were covered in sweat and other bodily fluids and you were a bit thirsty and could use a food break. This is what you do for the next thirty minutes as you have time to eat everything, so your body could recover for a second.

You watched as Tegarozann would inch forward ever so often until his large bull-like head was nuzzling against you. He was quite precious looking, his wandering touches light as he made sure not to poke your eyes out with his long hours. You can’t help yourself from feeling him up, touching his brown rays of fluff, his plush stomach, and his tail that curled around your wrist causing you to giggle.

“So pretty” Tegarozann licks your neck causing you to shiver, his highland horns had rings of jewelry on them.

“You're one to talk to, you're so cute.” you can’t resist the urge to run through his hair and pat him like a kid with a new pet.

You pushed his hair from his face looking into his hazel eyes, his hand rubbed at your bare skin, gripping your thighs as he lifted you onto his lap. You tried to look back at him, only for his flat tongue to run up your face. You tense up as you feel his flattened tip stretch you open, you moan as he slides you down his thick length. You scream at the feeling of him sliding deeper than anything you've ever taken, your body feeling split open as he finds a way to enter your womb. You cry, your mind feeling blank as if every shift of Tegarozann’s movement was erasing any thoughts.

He fucks into you from behind, your body against his chest as you hold put by your thighs. Your legs were shaking and your pussy was grippy. Clenching tightly around the cock that literally created a bulge inside you with each womb thrust. Your legs were up by your head and he had you bound against his body. So much for the gentle giant you thought he was a moment ago. You babble incoherent sounds of what you think were sentences. They were not but you have no way to tell. You lost count of how many orgasms you've had since this all started and there's no point in starting now.

You feel him throbbing inside you, knowing he was close after a few minutes or hours of being inside your gate-opening cooch. You feel like you could cum all over again, you were gushing around him, and each impact of his thrust worked to make you dizzy and lightheaded as it kept knocking the wind out of you.

The full Nelson he had you in making it so all you could do was simply take every inch he pumped in and out of you. When you feel his cock comes to a standstill you can feel the amount of his cum filling your stuffed womb. He pulls out when one last moan as he carefully places you on the ground. You whip away the drool that had dripped from your mouth and look at the next monster that was getting ready to take you.

Naziros crawls over to you, his dragon features make you a little nervous but all the more turned on. His wings create a shadow over your form as he moves on top of you basically scooping you off the ground. His black scales shimmered in the setting sun, causing them to actually look purple. His tail pulls you, holding you towards his waist. You try to grab at the tail around your waist, merely trying to get it to loosen up. Naziros takes to this as you are trying to escape and growls at you, a loud bellowing sound as he glares at you with bright orange eyes. You gasped as his grip tightened around you, pressing your stomach down, you thought that it wouldn't be that much of a big deal until he started to penetrate you.

You don’t have anything left to cry, your voice is hoarse and your mind is tipping back into the void space. Naziros has not one but two dicks and he was fully determined to make sure that your womb would have all of his seed. You feel the dual tips wriggling their way into your sensitive walls making you panic a little.

“Wait wai- wait” you stammered, but your pleas were left unheard.

Naziros bottoms off into you, tickling your cervix just enough to feel like he was gonna slip inside if he tilted you. He had one clawed hand holding your arms between your chest as you got thrust into with vigor. You didn’t think you would last long, as you feel the cluster of monster fucks catching up to you as you start to go in and out of consciousness. His cocks rubbed against each other as he was fully inside you. Puffs of black smoke left his maw here and there as he reveled in his pleasure.

The tight grip on your waist pushed your walls against his dragon shlongs. It was a lot and it was taking you out. He nips at you, biting at your exposed flesh to claim you before he fills you with his seamen. You cry as everything starts to hurt you a bit and you run out of orgasms to have. Your body trembles and you pant and heave. You feel like you are about to die as he finishes inside of you and unwraps his tail around you.

“No more, no” You cry out weakly as it comes out as a shaky whisper.

You pass out, and everyone is still hungry for more. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up thinking you were feeling phantom strokes from the day before but that was not the case. Motoros was using his floating cocks to fill you to the brim. He uses his disembodied hands to hold you up, suspended upside down, legs spread open, as two different glowing blue-tipped cocks forced entry into your abused pussy, while another was pushing into your mouth and ass respectively and then the final one used your hand to jerk itself off. You moan around his appendage letting the shadow beast know that he has awakened you from your once peaceful slumber.

“Finally awake, are you darling?” His reverberated voice seemed like it had more than one set of sounds to it. His glowing blue eyes and mouth were gleaming with amusement and chuckled as he sped up the pace of his disjointed cocks.

You whimper around, and you feel like the cock that was trying to reach your throat was a choking hazard as you really think if he really wanted to he could go very far into your esophagus, then again his balls would stop that right? He had different rhythms for each cock inside of you and it was an all kind of overwhelming feeling.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and all the cocks finished like a set of dominoes. The one in your ass, then one in your hand which manages to shoot onto your face and chest, one in your pussy, and finally the one in your mouth. You get dropped with a thud, and spasm as you come down from yet another climax. You open your eyes and see that Motoros’ cum is like movie ectoplasm; a glowing greenish-blue color.

“Need some help. “ Jay and Urosebira walk over to you with a couple of napkins and help you clean. you give them a nod and enjoy your downtime while it lasts. letting them clean the sweat and cum off your body.

“There you go, all decent”. Urosebira said while ripping his strawberry red locks dramatically as it caught some wind time. A unique contrast to his purple skin, his eyes matching more of his hair than his skin, he was looking at you with an enthralled gaze.

“ Now it's fine for us to mess you back up with us,” Jay smirks as they massage your hair, and pull you back on their lap. you look up at them.

“Besides you owe me these lips” Jay traces your lips slowly as they part your lips with their thumb. You part your mouth and let them slide, their fingers into your mouth gliding against your tongue. Jay let's have a slightly amused breath, meanwhile, Urosebira makes a home seated between your thighs.

You suck on Jay’s fingers, while Urosebira spreads your folds open before his easy insertion. Urosebira slides his slender and smooth cock. He moves forward until he can't anymore. you whimper around Jay’s fingers which were slick with spit. He sits up so he pats your face with his pretty cock. Your mind escaping you after all the countless cocks that have claimed me over and over.

Urosebira gets fully seated inside with a sultry pant that causes you to clench around you. He had you twisted waist down sideways. One of your legs up against his chest as he started to roll his hips. Your upper body has you laying a bit on your chest as you suck Jay off. Causing you to have to contort to please both of them properly. You shudder when Urosebira starts to circle your clit in tune with his thrust.

Jay massages one of your nipples as he fucks your face. Switching between the others to give them both attention. They plunged into you over and over at an alternating pace. They eventually start to pick up their pace as they get closer to filling your holes. you along with them getting closer and closer. Urosebira puts more pressure on your clit. You whine around Jay as you fall into your climax. They work you through your peak, gently.

“You did so well for us” Urosebira coos as he pulls out of your filled pussy.

“Pretty sound honey. makes me want to do more with you” Jay pulls out of your mouth and learns to kiss your forehead.

You smile at them, really pretty decent and like you could go again. But this thought is seemingly not a good one. When you see a certain beast pull you with an aggressive yank in his direction. Dakalba holds you down, his tough bumpy skin of the predator.

His unnatural mouth clicks with mandibles as a growl rumbles within him. Dakalba's claws dug into your skin, scratching his way up to wrapping his hand tightly around your neck. Your heart was racing with fear and adrenaline, but also excitement. You almost screamed when you felt him ram his ridge-covered cock. The bumps add a confusing pleasure within you. His hip was like a thick flower pushing at every spot you could have.

His thrust was rough from the start, it caused you to squirm or at least you tried to. His cock is on the line of sensory heaven and hell as he pounds into you. He heads using your body to move you on his cock treating you like a fleshlight. He had a tight grip on you and you can't escape. One hand was moving you up and down his cock and the other hand was around your neck which was definitely getting together.

You whimper as you get dizzy and Dakalba basically starts to choke you. Grabbing his hand around your neck you try to pull it off of you even if just a little. Instead, he leans down and bites you.

“ow ow ow” You cried out a bit and you clenched around his cock. You looked at the drops of your blood dripping down from the mark. His mandibles find a new place to mark you up and draw blood. Dakalba picks up his already ruthless pace. His claws ripped into your back and you swear you start to see spots in your vision. He controls the angles of your body by treating you like a rag doll and choking you out everything you tried to move on your own.

He slams his hips over last time as he cums inside you, licking your wounds and working you from a lightheaded orgasm. You go limp and complicit after he pulls away from you with a couple of what you assume are happy clicks, leaving you alone.

“Oh that looked like a lot, are you okay?” Nodagha asked even though he had an amused look on his face, looking at all the scratches and bruises along your body.

“Everything is intake… I think” you muttered with a nod.

“How about I take you over here for a somewhat secluded spot for lunch and a break.” Nodagha picked you up and brought you to a new spot.

Nodagha holds you upside down, you dangling in his grasp as he has your legs on his shoulders. you wrap your lips around his cock, sucking him eagerly. He tilts your hips to meet his mouth as he starts to eat you out. Nodagha tusk rubs against your thighs. you moan against his cock as you take him as far as you can, boring your head along his length. Nodagha’s fat tongue laps up your juices with a growing hunger. You were dizzy from being upside down for so long but you don't care.

You keep slurping his meat, gargling his taste like it was a defined taste you needed in you. your legs spasmed as you got closer to what felt like your hundredth orgasm. He rocked his hips into your face as he reached an end. He eats you out to completion. He bends you over and pulls out of your mouth. He rams his hips into your wet pussy letting you have the fruit of your mouth’s efforts. You let out one final moan as he cums inside you.

“How about we get you some actual food?” Nodagha laughs a bit as he pulls out of you with a sloppy sound. A smile on his face as he gets ready to try and feed you.

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After many rounds, you feel like you need to break and everyone is still so needy for you. When they pull away from you, this is your chance to try to run off. Shaking legs only carry you so far before they give out, dropping to the ground. You then use your arms and try to army crawl away which only aids in you feeling chagrined. You still try to get away like a wounded animal. This also triggers the animalistic beast to tap into their instinct and pounce on you and claim your pussy one after another. You were sure that they were gonna eat you.

Valqoba being one of those beastmen, he reminded you of a large wild cat. He had a lot of energy and he was coming back for more after everyone else had gone after you. He pulled you into his lap, holding you like a bride in his arms. your legs pulled together and you knew what he wanted. You tilted your head and grabbed his cock from under you and helped guide him to your heat.

He bounced you up and down his shaft, stopping just before his knot couldn't force its way inside you, like a slight teasing notion that you couldn't help but clench around him. Valqoba picked up the pace, leaning his head down to suck on your breast. A loud bellow escapes your lips and you wrap a hand in his fur.

“You're so perfect for this” Valqoba mumbled against your skin as he continued to bite and suck the closest parts of you to his face.

He pulls you deeper onto him, his knot moving in and out of you with several of you with wet pops. Valqoba was getting close and so were you. His movements are getting frenzy and rougher with you. However, he made sure to litter you with kisses and mutter soft praises in your ear. You both reached your peak together in a harmonized sound. You feel him paint your inside, talking to you as you come down from your high.

He was still inside of you, his knot seated within you, he had you on your side as his little spoon and was kissing your shoulder and neck. Valqoba made sure that you were resting comfortably, laying on the softness of his fluffy tail. It was like a warm pillow, and you quickly fell asleep next toValqoba. When you woke up he was still inside of you, still petting you, and still kissing your exposed skin while praising you softly. It was enough for you to fall right back asleep and snuggled up with him.

By the time you woke up empty, you had just been looking up at the sky after all your encounters, staring at the setting sun, with no will to move. You were full of joy with the whole encounter and this was the best birthday week you could ever ask for and it will be one that you remember forever. You were limp on a little blanket, just enjoying the warm air on your naked body, making you shiver a bit. You have never been more thoroughly fucked like this ever. Nothing could or ever compare to this and you had no regrets. You watched as several shadows surrounded you.

“I think we're in need of a celebration of what's to come” You look around at all of them stroking themselves.

You enjoy the view of all of them about you. Using your image to get off to you, full of their cum. They stare at your naked sweaty body like you are a fine cuisine. You were drooling a bit, holding your mouth open ready to lap up any cum that would land close enough to your open mouth. You listen to each sound they make as they get closer to their final release for the night. You watch them shoot their loads onto you, and you giggle, relaxing as the warm liquid lands on you.

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In about a month's time you noticed you were getting kinda pudgy, you supposed that you had been eating more than usual but not enough to have your stomach poking out like this. Were you… pregnant? The timing matched up but showing this early?

So you did only what you knew to be the right decision and went to ask Jay.

“Hey, Mamas, you’re sure glowing today,” Jay said as they leaned on the counter and ate an apple.

“Is that you being yourself or am I actually pregnant?” You asked.

“Oh, you’re pregnant alright, after all the breeding you went through there was no way you weren’t going to end up with a bun in the oven,”

You talked some more about what to expect with Jay, after all a monster pregnancy would be nothing like a human one, and even then you’ve never been pregnant. You ate some breakfast and then went to look at yourself in the mirror. Pregnant, huh? You never really thought about being pregnant but you weren't opposed to it.

As the months passed pregnancy was… wild. From the cravings to the mood swings. Luckily all your monster lovers pampered you with more love and attention than you could ever ask for. And if you weren't getting showered with attention from your friends and family. If you were being honest you were putting off telling them. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to explain, that you were impregnated by several monsters and your best friend.

They understandably freaked out, but in the end, they took it well, if anything after a while you got tired of how much special treatment you got, you didn’t need to be escorted to the bathroom. At least that was the case until your third trimester.

Your stomach was starting to look like a torpedo, your back hurt like crazy, your feet were swollen and sore, it was so bad you had to be put on bed rest. So for the last month, you spent most of your time. In catching up on K-dramas and being fed fancy organic food

Birth however… was another story altogether you had to get a c-section, just the thought that they were going to have to cut you open made you uncomfortable, but it was the safer option as a human having a monstrous pregnancy. You almost died but hey you didn’t!

And SURPRISE! You had twins, a boy and a girl. For how big your stomach had gotten you had expected them to be bigger however, they were surprisingly small compared to what size you thought they would be. Compared to the average size for twins though they had some size on them. They grew surprisingly quickly, not much time had passed a few months and they already were toddler sized. Still babies but very big babies..

Your children look more and more like their fathers every day, tusks, scales, fur, shadow hands, vibrant colored eyes, horns and wild hair. They were a handful that’s for sure. Luckily for any trouble they might give you, their many fathers are there to help you

Now you’re bonded for life with your own special harem of monsters and the gateway has opened from their world. Now anyone can fuck and be fucked by the monster (or monsters) of their choice.

[eliotwaughdeservesbetter]

I really want to see this idea turn into a big beautiful work but writing it myself scares me. So i just give it to the world and will be hoping someone can write it.

It's the 31st of December and an hour before the new year. Tommy is inside of the burning building watching into the eyes of the man he left two months ago while the floor under them is collapsing. And minutes later he's trapped under the tons of concrete with the love of his life without any chance of being saved.

They both are conscious and they both understand they're gonna die in here. But they have a little amount of time to talk. Evan asks him why he left and Tommy tells him about his fears, insecurities. Evan tells him he is an idiot and they should have talked about it earlier. Before closing his eyes for the last time Evan tells him he loves him. Tommy's watch shows 00:00 when he kisses Evan's temple and closes his eyes too whispering "love you too".

He wakes up to the sound of his phone. It takes him a minute to understand why he's lying on something soft when seconds ago he was dying with Evan in his arms. He never ever had a dream that realistic he thinks. He takes his phone and answers the call without looking who it is.

"Oh, thank god, Tommy, you finally answered. I need a favour from you please"

"Howie? What? Something happened?"

"Yeah, look. We need a helicopter and a pilot to fly it. And you're the best pilot i know"

"Helicopter? Again?"

"Now i need something more than the dumping you did last time. Remember , Bobby Nash? He and his wife went for a cruise and their ship stopped responding. And there is a storm so we are worried for them and want to find them in case they need help" This..this can't be right. Tommy already had this conversation with Howie ten months ago.

"What the hell?" He didn't mean to say it aloud but his confusion was too strong

"Em, I'm sorry, Tommy, i do understand you don't want to risk it, I'm sorry i asked, we'll try to think of something else"

"Wait, no, Howie, that's not... I'm not saying no. It's just strange you know. But I'll do it, of course. Only I'm at home now, i need maybe an hout to get to harbour"

"Great! Thanks, Tommy! See you there then"

"Yeah, see you"

Tommy disconnects the call and lyes back at the bed. "What the hell?" he says again in silence. He couldn't have dreamed about 10 months, right? He couldn't get this perfect relationship and then the most heartbreaking break up and all of this just in a dream? But if it was a dream then how he could dreamed this crazy thing about flying in the storm to save Bobby and now it's really happening? He looks at the screen of his phone 17:35 10 March 2024. Yeah, he definitely lost his mind.

He makes it to the harbour a bit later than he did last time but he remembers 118 is going to be here half an hour later. So he has time to sign a helicopter for a flight and make a pre-flight check.

"Hey, Tommy, man! It's so good to see you again!" Howie hugs him. And Tommy really doesn't know was it 2 months or 2 years he last saw him. But behind Howie there are Eddie and Evan. Just like in his dream. But something is different in Evan's expression. Last time he was exited and was looking around eyeing everything, now he's looking at Tommy and there is the same confusion in his eyes. Tommy can't help but hope it wasn't a dream and even if it was Evan had the same one too.

After the rescue they talk and yeah Evan remembers everything what's gonna happen to them too. They go together to Tommy's house and now talk about their relationship again and they kiss. This time they gonna make them work together, they've got a second chance and they won't lose it.

I really want more of it but i can't write it. I want to see reaction of the 118 to bucktommy dating and being so close together so fast. I want to see Buck saving Chimney before the wedding. This time Madney have the beautiful wedding they wanted. Buck finally is having this dance he waited. I want to see Buck and Tommy taking down Ortiz and doing everything against Bobby's leaving the firehouse and Gerrard's coming back. And just boys being in love.

[pysprnt]

can u write some hc abt thanos as bf? sfw or nsfw whichever u want <3

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐬𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐠; 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 — 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 ! 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 .

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) — 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐨𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 . (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 !)

𝐰𝐜 — 𝟎.𝟔, 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 .

— firstly, su bong is incredibly protective, maybe even over protective. he feels as if it is his duty to keep you safe, and a part of his will to protect you stems from his trauma regarding the games. su bong watched so many people lose their lives(and even killed a few himself), and he absolutely refuses to let any harm come to his precious s/o.

“i’m sorry my lovely señorita, but the guy had it coming!” su bong is obviously not sorry in the slightest, the smirk decorating his undeniably pretty face showcasing his true thought process—he truly couldn’t care less.

“fighting is not necessary, su bong! we have talked about this.”

“you’re mine, y/n! if these assholes cannot comprehend that, i’ll just have to pound it into their brain. plus, they should be honored, meeting the fist of the thanos!”

— su bong loves to show you off, he wants the world to know that you belong to him, and he belongs to you.

— with that being said, su bong is a huge fan of pda, and you are never seen without his arm slung lazily around your shoulder, said rapper walking confidently by your side as if the two of you are of royal descent.

— compliments are very important to su bong, and he enjoys both giving and receiving. you could have just woken up, hair sprawled all over the place, makeup smudged from the night before, and su bong will still speak as if you’re an angel sent from above. because in his eyes, there is not a moment in the world that you do not look beautiful.

“good morning, baby.” su bong murmurs softly, admiring the way your eyelashes flutter as you groggily scan over his facial features. “g’morning…”

groaning quietly as you stretch your tense muscles, su bong chuckles lightly. “you’re so gorgeous, no wonder we’re perfect together. we’ll make such beautiful babies one day.”

— su bong is also a very jealous person, and does not appreciate when others, specially other men, have your attention. even if it were family, su bong likes to involve himself in practically everything you do. which can sometimes lead to conflict.

— arguments are not exactly rare, but they do not happen often. though, su bong has a knack for covering up problems that he is not yet ready to face, so he often acts as if it never happened after a day or two. su bong struggles with admitting when he is wrong, so unless he feels as if you’re severely upset or hurt by his words or actions, he will not apologize.

— su bong’s love language is a mix between physical touch and quality time. he enjoys spending every second of the day by your side, whether you’re at home cuddled up and binge watching kdrama’s, or you’re out partying with friends all night.

— su bong prefers to spoon while cuddling, and very rarely agrees to be the little spoon. apparently it makes him feel “unmanly.”

“you know how i feel about being the little spoon, y/n.” su bong stands in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as you sprawl across your shared bed, determined to turn the cocky rapper vulnerable.

“i don’t care, i want to hold you every once in awhile.” you reply with a shrug, your stubborn personalities clashing over something as simple as cuddling. sensing your determination, su bong sighs, crawling into bed and curling up into a fetal position.

“this will not happen again.”

smiling in accomplishment, you make yourself comfortable behind him. the two of you know that this will slowly become a habit, as su bong cannot resist the smile that it brings to your face. “as long as you’re happy, i guess i’m happy too.”

𝐚/𝐧 — 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐭 . 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 ! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 !!

[merrybloomwrites]

Build You a Boat (1D x Reader)

Summary: A crazy idea leads to the most wonderful adventure for you and your five bandmates. While none of you had ever dreamed of canoeing the boundary waters, you end up having taken a trip you'll never forget.

Word Count: 1.5K

AN: Back in October I was brainstorming some lighthearted 1D story ideas and for some reason this one stuck with me. Just some fun escapism and adventure!

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“Whatcha watching?” Liam asks, hovering over the back of the couch you’re sitting on. 

“YouTube,” you reply, your focus still on the video.

“That’s nonspecific,” Zayn adds from the other end of the couch.

Finally realizing that people are talking to you, you pause the video and say, “Sorry, it’s this couple that makes travel vlogs. They’re canoeing the boundary waters between the United States and Canada.”

“That’s a thing?” Liam questions.

“Apparently. I didn’t know until they published this video. It’s kind of cool. It’s like, a bunch of little lakes and you have to carry the canoe from one lake to the next and then they camp each night,” you explain.

“How long does it take?” Zayn asks next.

“I think about a week.”

“Sounds like fun,” Liam says.

“Seriously?” Zayn questions. “A week of sleeping in a tent at night and basically exercising all day sounds fun to you?”

“It does!” Liam replies.

“I think it seems pretty cool. I’d do it,” you say.

“What are we doing?” Niall asks as he, Louis, and Harry enter the green room. 

“Canoeing the boundary waters,” you reply.

“No we’re not,” Zayn argues.

“What are the boundary waters?” Harry asks.

Instead of explaining again you decide to play the video on the TV in the room so that everyone can see what you’re talking about.

As the video wraps up Harry says, “I would do that.”

Shockingly, everyone agrees and somehow the six of you start talking about how fun of a challenge it would be, and how much you would enjoy escaping into nature where there’s no phone service or internet. 

“Always fun to dream,” Liam says.

“Dream? No, we are making this happen,” you state.

“Y/N, don’t be crazy. We could never, not with our schedules,” Niall says.

“Plus management would never let us do something that dangerous,” Louis adds.

“‘Specially not Harry,” Zayn says.

“Why me?” Harry asks, confused.

“Cause you’re clumsy. You’d manage to fall over while sitting in the canoe.”

“Heyy. Rude.” Harry’s pout tells you he’s not truly offended, since Zayn is probably correct.

But even with all of these valid concerns, you can’t give up on this idea.

“Let me deal with management. I’ll get us on this trip,” you state definitively.

“Best wishes to you there,” Niall quips.

You know none of them are confident that you can make it happen, and they’re very surprised when a week later you tell them the news. “It’s set. We are officially canoeing the boundary waters this fall.”

Your announcement is met with five pairs of eyes staring at you incredulously.

“Seriously?” Liam asks.

“Seriously.”

“How did you get management to agree?” Louis questions.

“I have my ways.”

“That sounds concerningly dirty,” Zayn states.

“Oh, god no. Nothing like that! I just told them we needed a break to spend quality time together in nature before we all burnt out and quit.”

“Kept it light and breezy then, huh?” Louis jokes. 

“They wanted some security to go with us but they decided that we could go with just us six as long as we have those fancy GPS tracker things,” you add.

“We’re going to need so many supplies,” Niall says.

“I was thinking of reaching out to those vloggers who did it, see if they can maybe send a list,” you explain. 

“It looks like a big physical challenge,” Harry says. “Should we be doing any training for it?”

“We all work out like, every day. We’re in good shape. Maybe just do the rowing machine every now and then.” 

The boys are all still quiet, like they’re absorbing this information. Finally you say, “Guys! There’s plenty of time to get ready. Now’s the time to get excited! Six days, on the water, enjoying nature with no one able to bother us.”

“You’re right,” Liam agrees. “Honestly, I can’t wait.”

The other four all start to get excited as well, and by the time you’re called away for soundcheck, everyone is counting down the days until this adventure.

And even though that countdown starts at quite a large number, making the trip seem ages away, suddenly it seems, you’re flying to Minnesota. 

Those youtubers who inspired this whole idea had been more than helpful when you’d reached out to them. Not only were they willing to give advice, they offered to set everything up for you. When you arrive, everything you need is there waiting for your group.

A local ranger gives you guys the rundown of the route and lists any other information you might need. 

And then, finally, it’s time to get on the water. 

Harry is your canoe buddy for the week, and he holds the boat as you get in. Once you’re all situated, you begin paddling.

It takes a little bit of time to get the hang of rowing, but soon enough, you’re gliding along the water. Niall and Liam often take the lead, as Liam is the master of the map. Zayn and Louis tend to drift behind and then gain a burst of energy to catch up. 

Since it’s a series of small lakes, there are times where you reach land and have to carry, or portage, the canoe on a trail to the next lake. While the other pairs take turns, Harry always carries your canoe, not wanting you to have to lift it. He’s just being a gentleman, but you know you could totally pull it off.

In late afternoon you reach the campsite and begin to set everything up. You have different tent buddies, wanting to switch it up so no one is spending too much time with one specific person. You’ve all learned that can be a recipe for sibling-like bickering to begin. 

You’re sharing a tent with Niall, while Liam and Zayn are together and Harry and Louis take the third. Once everything is set up you make dinner over a camp stove. The evening ends with watching the sun set over the water, and you take in this moment of peace, so happy to be doing this adventure with the boys.

The next couple of days pass similarly. You’re blessed with good weather, and currents that seem to flow with you, rather than against. 

The nights do get chilly, and even with the layers you brought, you’re still cold. Luckily Niall gets cold too and has no problem when you insert yourself in his personal space to steal body heat.

Your other big problem is the bugs. Mosquitos to be exact. They’ve always loved you, and there seems to be an abundance of them here. Add on that any bug bite you get swells up into a welt, you basically look like you have a nasty case of chickenpox. No amount of bug spray deters them, and no amount of calamine lotion can completely take away the itch. 

But not even that can ruin this experience.

On the last full day you finally convince Harry to let you do one of the portages. He guides you through the proper way to lift the canoe, and all the boys shout encouragements as you do the hike. 

When you drop the boat back in the water at the end of the portage, the others cheer and congratulate you. It seems silly, since they’ve been doing the same thing for days, but it really uplifts you the way they celebrate your success.

That night, you all stay up late talking, even though you’re exhausted from the last few days. It was so difficult, physically and mentally. But you’re all so glad you did it. There isn’t much of the trip left, and by lunchtime tomorrow you’ll be turning in your canoes.

You’re sad that it’s ending, but there’s a sense of satisfaction that you were able to do it, and more importantly, the six of you did it as a team. You know you’re not the only one who’s been inspired by this, and there will definitely be multiple One Direction songs about the time out on the water.

None of you want to go to bed, knowing this will all be over the next day and you have to reenter society. But Liam eventually makes everyone call it a night when you practically fall asleep against his shoulder. 

On the final morning you all paddle just a bit slower, savoring every last minute of the quiet waters.

You’ve all mostly refrained from taking pictures, wanting to live in the moment, but you make the others join you for a selfie, needing this time together captured so you’ll have the memory forever. 

After turning in all of your rental equipment you head to the airport, needing to fly right back to London. The six of you sleep the entire way, exhausted from days of exertion.

When your friends and families ask how it was, all of you tell them how great the experience was. They want details, but it’s not something you can really put into words. 

It’s just something that the six of you will always share, and you’re so grateful the boys were on board with your crazy plan.

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AN: Thanks for reading! If you have any 1D requests let me know!

[thehelltingvilleclub]

May Osewai - Crippling Case of the Cringe

you better hope to god she isn't actually sadako, because she will judge you on your search history on her way through your browser--

Mayumi “May” Osewai [09/09/81] Secretary of Manga AOL / Online Users : [sadako_chan] Theme Songs: Living Dead Girl - Rob Zombie | She’s Out of Her Mind - blink-182 | FUNERAL GREY - Waterparks

Favorite Shit: Anime Adaptations, Visual novels, Horror / Gore, Battle Royale(s), Monster Movies, Slasher Flicks, Acrylic Stands, Hard Covers, Asian horror, Foreign Films, Evangelion : Neon Genesis, Ghost in the Shell, Corpse Party, Torrent Sites, The X-Men, Spawn, Teen Titans, Accurate Translations, Uncensored Doujins, Silent Hill, Serial Experiments : Lain

Dude get this girl a therapist and someone other than a rabid werewolf for a brain-worm weird fluttery thought friend GUEHAKL. please. please. With literally no other friends and no longer in an environment surrounded by.. "peers", she kind of has no choice but to keep putting up with Bill despite how much of a creep he gets sometimes. They're like a family.. A horrifically disfunctional family that should maybe only meet every other christmas, and yet they're glued together despite it all. It has to be karma punishing them, right?

We are the weirdos, Mister.

This poor girl has a really bad anxiety problem and is also horrifically oblivious to a lot of things which is not a good combo. She hates the thought of missing something or making someone upset by having to make them explain, but good god she cannot read a room sometimes--

She also maybe most definitely has autism. that might have something to do with it..

She masks well enough that she genuinely just thought she was "weird" and just kinda accepted it when she moved to the states. She didn't even start to think about it until Jerry started bringing up the shit he learned in therapy.

She honestly is just kinda.. Blunt? good or bad, though she does have enough forethought to keep the bad thoughts to herself most of the time. It's more in a quiet "wait, what did she just say?" kind of way.

She struggles to express actual internal monologue, her actual emotions and thoughts on the boys, but she shows it in.. other ways.

She genuinely cares about the boys, yes even bill, though he's like.. Like if Jane and Bill were closer in age and Bill actually wouldn't leave her the FUCK alone.

Though it's not like Pete's any better-- he always so weirdly macho and it's... kinda funny? Weirdly endearing? Like a little terrier going going absolutely ballistic on the screen door. Heh. cute.

May has designed entire pokemon decks and trainer teams for the boys. They'll get posted eventually I promise vuv

She absolutely tries to play card games with Jerry and Matt, though she really only likes the play Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh, but she'll happily watch the two smears duke it out.

its kinda funny seeing Matt lose every once in a while.

May and Josh argue about Evangelion ALL THE TIME and it's honestly annoying but it's also very funny to see Josh get flashbacks about asuka--

She is also one of the first people Josh goes to to hang out with, even if it's just over a phone call.. well, at least for a while. He likes to talk, so she just kinda doodled mindlessly or painted her figures while listening.

... she could tell he needed it.

ALso girls omg she is still the clumsiest woman I have ever seen. She might need a new prescription like seriously.

May got a job at the local family video, so you bet your ASS Pete harasses her at work whenever he can sneak out of his own work duties. He's lucky he's cute...

She may be oblivious to some emotions, but she's not stupid.

She collects stuffed animals, but mostly pokemon plushies and assorted horror mascots. She is still really embarrassed about having them, but literally can't sleep if she doesn't have at least one like it's a problem--

She is also like icy cold. All the time. like she just pulled her hands out of the freezer. Pete uses this as an excuse to hold her hands because he's a fucking smear I swear to god he needs to grow some BALLS

ALSO HI CAN I TALK ABOUT HER SHIRT FOR LIKE 10 SECONDS ITs an indie japanese-canadian band called "Rotten Cherries" and it does rock covers of japanese pop music and even some remakes of songs by The Cranberries and Boa

THanks guYs

Also I enjoy the reference pic for her pajama shorts LMAO

GUYH Have May.

Also sorry for repeat info at the top, it's to keep with the formatting fhdsjkafinfdsajhfkdlsfhl

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 21

word count: 8.8k

sorry for the wait, hope you guys enjoy!

The next day, though Harry had to be cooped up at the shop once more, he made sure to bring Aspen along. The girl sat perched by the front desk, swaying in her chair as Niall and Zayn kept her company while her boyfriend worked on another large last minute walk-in piece.

Aspen hadn't minded tagging along to the shop today. In fact, she liked being around Harry's world, seeing the environment he was so comfortable in. It was different from her own, rougher around the edges, but it fascinated her. The steady hum of the tattoo machines, the scent of antiseptic and ink in the air—it was all so uniquely him.

She sat at the front desk, her legs crossed at the ankle as she absentmindedly flipped through one of the shop's design books. Every now and then, her eyes drifted toward Harry's station where he was focused on a client, sleeves pushed up, forearms tense with concentration. He looked good when he worked, brows drawn together, tongue occasionally swiping across his bottom lip in focus. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks just watching him.

Zayn and Niall were keeping her company in the meantime, the two of them going back and forth in their usual banter, making Aspen giggle behind her hand.

"You know, I think I'd look real good with a full sleeve," Niall mused, stretching his arm out in front of him and squinting as if he were already picturing it.

Zayn snorted, shaking his head. "You're too indecisive. You'd get halfway through and regret it."

Aspen giggled as Niall shot Zayn an exaggerated glare. "Oi! I could pull it off." He turned to Aspen for backup. "Don't you think I'd look good with a sleeve?"

Aspen tilted her head, feigning deep thought before giving a shy little shrug. "I think it would suit you... maybe."

Zayn barked out a laugh, pointing at Niall. "Even Aspen doesn't sound convinced."

Niall groaned, slumping back dramatically in his seat, which only made Aspen giggle more. The conversation carried on lightheartedly, small jokes exchanged between them as she grew more comfortable with their dynamic.

"Okay, fine," Niall huffed. "No sleeve. But what about, like, a single bold piece? Something cool and mysterious. Maybe a dagger? A wolf? A dragon?"

Zayn raised a brow. "You sound like every dude who walks in here asking for their 'first ink' and then chickens out when the needle actually touches their skin."

Aspen covered her mouth as she laughed, her shoulders shaking. "Do people really do that?"

"More often than you'd think," Zayn smirked, leaning against the counter. "You should see some of the excuses we get. 'Oh, I forgot I had a meeting.' 'Oh, my girlfriend doesn't like tattoos.' 'Oh, I think I left my oven on at home.'"

Aspen giggled harder, imagining the scene unfolding.

Niall pointed at Zayn accusingly. "Listen, I may be many things, but a coward is not one of them. If I commit, I commit."

Zayn gave him a skeptical look. "That so?"

"Absolutely."

Aspen, still smiling, tapped a finger against the open design book in front of her. "Well... if you had to pick one right now, what would it be?"

Niall leaned over, scanning the page, before pointing to a classic anchor design. "That. Timeless. Rugged. Manly."

Zayn snorted. "Basic."

"Oh, come on!" Niall groaned. "I thought we were past judging people for classic ink choices!"

Aspen bit her lip to keep from laughing too hard, enjoying the easy back-and-forth between them. She liked this—being included, feeling like she belonged in their little world.

Her eyes flickered over to Harry again, watching the way he moved, the way he gently tilted his client's arm to get a better angle, the way he was so deeply focused. It still amazed her, how skilled he was, how much he cared about his craft. He made everything seem effortless.

She didn't even realize she was staring until Niall leaned closer and whispered, "You're drooling."

Aspen's face burned as she snapped her gaze back to him. "I—I am not!"

Niall grinned, nudging her arm. "S'fine, love, we get it. Your boyfriend's hot."

Zayn smirked, adding, "At least you're subtle about it."

Aspen groaned, burying her face in her hands as they both chuckled at her expense.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, shaking her head with a shy smile. "Let's change the subject."

"Aw, but this was getting good," Niall teased, but he relented when she shot him a playful glare.

Aspen took a sip from her water bottle, settling herself again before her curiosity got the better of her.

Aspen absentmindedly traced patterns along the condensation of her water bottle, the soft hum of tattoo machines filling the shop as she let the words roll off her tongue without much thought. "So... where were you guys the other day?"

She wasn't asking with suspicion—just curiosity. It was normal for them all to be busy, especially Harry and Zayn, but with both of them disappearing on the same day, she had assumed they had been working at the shop together.

Zayn, who had been scrolling on his phone, stilled almost imperceptibly. It was brief, barely noticeable, before he smoothly resumed, tapping his thumb against the screen in thought.

Niall, however, was as easygoing as ever, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Dunno. They weren't at the shop, I—"

Before he could finish, Zayn subtly nudged him under the counter, just enough to make Niall pause. The interruption was swift, casual, and Aspen didn't catch on to its meaning.

Niall, never one to be easily flustered, let out an easy chuckle. "Oh, wait, nah. I got my days mixed up," he corrected smoothly, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Yeah, they were definitely here. You know how it is—busy day, tons of walk-ins. I wasn't here much, though. Just popped in for a bit."

Aspen nodded, easily accepting the answer. It made sense. Niall was always in and out, never one to stay planted in one place unless he had a reason to.

Zayn leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he picked up the explanation. "Yeah, long ass day. Harry and I had some big pieces to do, so we were stuck here forever. Back-to-back appointments. Barely had time to eat, let alone breathe." His voice was smooth, perfectly composed, and it wasn't unusual for him and Harry to take on big projects.

Aspen didn't even think to question it further. In fact, she felt a little guilty for asking—if they'd had such a long day, she didn't want to seem like she was prying.

She stole a glance at Harry across the room. He was still deep in his work, head tilted in concentration, jaw set as he dragged the tattoo machine carefully over his client's skin. He looked so at home in his element.

She smiled softly to herself, brushing away any lingering thoughts. Harry had never given her a reason to doubt him, and besides, if something was wrong, he would tell her.

"Well, as long as you weren't getting into trouble," she teased lightly, taking a sip of her water.

Niall grinned, dramatically clutching his chest. "Me? Trouble? Never."

Zayn smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink, the picture of amusement but offering no further comment.

Aspen giggled at their antics, letting the conversation drift into something else, not noticing the fleeting glance Zayn and Niall exchanged. If she had, maybe she would've realized there was more to the story than they were letting on.

Aspen leaned forward slightly in her chair, resting her elbow on the desk as she idly twirled the cap of her water bottle between her fingers. The conversation had shifted naturally, moving from their usual banter to something a little more personal.

"So, what's the plan for you two, then?" Niall grinned, wiggling his brows between her and Zayn. "Aspen, you finally got yourself a big, brooding tattoo artist. What's next?"

Aspen blushed, the warmth creeping up her neck. She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know... we're just taking things as they come."

"Boring answer," Niall teased, leaning back in his chair. "Come on, give me something. Future plans? Marriage? White picket fence? Maybe some tattooed babies running around?"

Aspen nearly choked on her water, her face burning even hotter. "Niall!" she squeaked, eyes wide.

Zayn barked out a laugh, slapping a hand against the counter. "Too soon, man," he smirked. "Let 'em breathe."

"I'm just saying! You two are disgustingly cute." Niall stretched his arms behind his head. "If Harry wasn't already obsessed with you, I'd be worried."

Aspen tried to play off her embarrassment, but she couldn't stop the way her lips curled into a soft smile. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her bottle again, and when she stole another glance across the room, she caught Harry's gaze.

He was already looking at her.

It was brief, just a flicker of his eyes before he turned his attention back to his work, but it was enough to send a pleasant warmth blooming in Aspen's chest.

Niall was still talking, something about how he was destined to be the world's best godfather whenever Harry and Aspen decided to have kids (which, in Aspen's opinion, was way too early to even think about), but she was only half-listening.

Because every time she glanced toward Harry, she caught him doing the same.

And every time their eyes met, it sent little flutters through her stomach.

"So what about you guys?" she asked, eager to shift the conversation away from herself. "What's your plan for the future?"

Zayn shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Haven't thought about it much. Business is good. I don't see myself doing anything else anytime soon."

"Fair," Aspen nodded. "And you, Niall?"

"Oh, I'm gonna be rich," Niall declared, pointing at himself with full confidence. "But like, stupid rich. Don't ask me how yet. Maybe I'll invent something. Or marry into money. Either way, I'll be set."

Aspen laughed, shaking her head. "Solid plan."

"Exactly," Niall grinned. "And speaking of plans... Aspen, be real with me—are you gonna stay with this guy forever, or what?"

Aspen opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't have an answer.

Forever?

Her gaze flickered back toward Harry. She wasn't even sure if he was listening to their conversation, but she knew that if she was being honest with herself... the idea of forever with him didn't seem so scary.

She just smiled, a little shy, a little uncertain.

"We'll see," she murmured.

And from across the room, Harry glanced up once more—just in time to catch her looking at him again.

Aspen shifted in her seat, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the cap of her water bottle as she debated whether or not to ask the question sitting at the tip of her tongue. She wasn't usually the type to pry, but curiosity had a way of gnawing at her when it came to Harry—especially when it came to the parts of his life he didn't bring up often.

"Can I ask you guys something?" she finally murmured, glancing between Niall and Zayn.

Zayn quirked a brow, while Niall leaned in like she was about to spill the most interesting gossip he'd ever heard. "Course you can, sweetheart," Niall grinned. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment before voicing what she'd been wondering. "Has Harry ever talked about... past relationships? Like, has he ever been in love before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged a look, one Aspen couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't amusement, nor was it discomfort—it was something in between, like they were deciding how much they should say.

"Depends on what you mean by 'in love,'" Zayn finally said, tapping his fingers against the counter. "If you're asking if he's had girlfriends before, then yeah, he's had a few. If you're asking if he's ever been in love? That's a different question entirely."

Aspen frowned slightly. "So... has he?"

Zayn sighed, tilting his head as he considered his answer. "I don't think so," he admitted. "Not the way you mean. Harry's had flings, some more serious than others, but he's never been the type to settle down. Not because he couldn't, just... he never found anyone he wanted to."

Aspen processed that quietly, her fingers still tracing idle patterns on her bottle. It wasn't a bad answer. If anything, it only made her feel more special—like she was different.

Still, she wasn't quite done with her questions.

"What about the way he talks about me?" she asked softly, suddenly feeling a little shy about the inquiry. "Does he... ever bring me up?"

Niall let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back. "God, Aspen, you have no idea," he whined. "The man does not shut up about you."

Aspen's eyes widened. "He does?"

"Constantly," Zayn smirked. "It's almost embarrassing, really. We could be talking about literally anything, and he'll find a way to bring you into the conversation. 'Aspen would love this.' 'Aspen was reading this book the other day.' 'Aspen said the funniest thing.' It's ridiculous."

Aspen's face heated instantly, her heart swelling at the revelation. She'd known Harry cared about her—he wasn't shy in the way he showed his affection—but hearing that he talked about her so often when she wasn't around made her feel warm in a way she couldn't quite describe.

"Yeah," Niall added, grinning. "And don't even get me started on the way he talks about you when he's drunk."

Aspen's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, he gets all sappy," Niall said, waving a hand. "Like, real soft. Talks about how much he likes you, how you make him feel different than anyone else ever has. It's kinda sweet, actually, if you ignore the fact that he sounds like a lovesick idiot."

Aspen's heart did a little flip in her chest. "He really says that?"

"Every damn time," Zayn confirmed, shaking his head. "And if you ask me, that's saying a lot. Harry doesn't open up easily. But with you? I think he's completely gone."

Aspen chewed on her bottom lip, trying to suppress the giddy smile threatening to take over her face. She'd known Harry felt something strong for her, but hearing it from his friends, from the people who knew him best, made it feel even more real.

After a moment, she gathered her thoughts enough to ask her next question. "Has he ever told you guys why he never got serious with anyone before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged another glance before Zayn answered. "He's never given us a straightforward reason," he admitted. "But I think it has to do with trust. Harry's not the kind of guy who lets people in easily. He's seen too many people turn their backs when things got hard, so he stopped letting them get close in the first place."

Aspen frowned slightly, her heart aching at the thought. She knew Harry had his walls, knew he carried burdens he didn't always talk about. But the idea that he'd spent so much of his life keeping people at arm's length made her want to hold onto him even tighter.

"Well," she said softly, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter, "I hope he knows he doesn't have to worry about that with me."

Zayn studied her for a moment before nodding, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think he does," he murmured. "And I think that's why you're different."

Aspen exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth spread through her chest. Maybe she was different. Maybe, despite everything, Harry had finally found someone he was willing to let in.

And maybe—just maybe—she was willing to let him in, too.

As Harry worked, the rhythmic hum of the tattoo machine filled the space around him, the buzz familiar and grounding. His hand was steady, movements precise as he filled in the last bit of shading on his client’s forearm. It was muscle memory by now, the way he worked—careful, methodical, ensuring every line was perfect. But despite how deep he was in his craft, his attention kept drifting elsewhere.

Aspen.

Every now and then, between dipping his needle into ink and wiping away excess, his gaze would flicker toward the front of the shop where she sat. She was perched on the chair, her legs tucked under her, absently twirling the cap of her water bottle between her fingers as she listened to whatever nonsense Niall and Zayn were spewing. She was smiling, her cheeks soft with warmth, and fuck—Harry swore he could feel that smile in his damn chest.

It was different, having her here. Not in a bad way—quite the opposite, really. It was grounding, a quiet reassurance that she was becoming a part of this life of his. A life he never thought he’d want to share so openly with someone.

His fingers tightened around the tattoo machine slightly. That thought—it was dangerous. Because there were parts of his life she couldn’t know. Not yet.

He swallowed, forcing his focus back on the piece he was working on. The secrecy—it wasn’t about not trusting her. He did. More than he cared to admit. But there were things in his world that were better left in the dark. Things that weren’t meant for someone like her—soft, kind, untouched by the shit he and Zayn were tangled up in.

Maybe one day, he’d tell her. But not now. Not when he could still shield her from it.

He exhaled, shaking off the heaviness pressing against his ribs, and refocused on finishing up.

Fifteen minutes later, he wiped down the tattoo one last time, nodding in satisfaction before wrapping it up. “Alright, man,” he said to his client, standing and stretching out his arms. “You’re all set. Just follow the aftercare instructions, and you’ll be golden.”

After handling payment and bidding the guy goodbye, Harry finally took a breath. His break had been long overdue.

As he walked over to the front of the shop, the scent of food hit him first. His brows lifted slightly in surprise as he spotted Aspen setting out plates in front of Niall and Zayn, her movements careful and deliberate as she made sure everyone had what they needed. His own plate was set aside for him, waiting.

His heart clenched at the sight.

She had cooked for them?

Something about that simple act of care made something deep in him ache.

Before he made his way over to grab his plate, he veered slightly, walking past Niall and—without hesitation—snagging a bite right off his plate.

“Oi!” Niall protested, pulling his plate away. “What the hell, mate? You've got your own!”

Harry chewed, smirking as he handed Niall back his fork. “I know,” he said easily with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “but if m'lady made it, I want it all.”

Aspen, who had just taken a seat, turned a deep shade of red at his words, her fingers curling in her lap as she ducked her head slightly.

Niall groaned, rolling his eyes as he snatched his plate back. “Christ, you two are disgusting.”

Harry grinned, but didn’t respond, instead making his way over to his own plate. Before sitting down, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Aspen’s cheek from behind.

She stilled for a second, then exhaled, shoulders loosening as a shy little smile played on her lips.

Harry took his seat next to her, grabbing his fork as he dug in. The second he took his first bite, he let out a hum of approval. “Fuck, baby. This is good.”

“She’s got skills,” Zayn agreed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “Could open up a restaurant or some shit.”

Aspen’s cheeks were still pink as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s really not that big of a deal…”

“It is when all we usually eat is takeout,” Niall chimed in. “This is the best thing I’ve had all week.”

Harry chewed thoughtfully, tapping his fork against his plate before swallowing. “Dunno,” he mused, his lips curling into a slow, cheeky smirk. “I’ve had somethin’ better this week.”

Niall snorted. “Mate, there’s no way you’ve eaten anything better than this. We’ve all been living off gas station snacks and whatever the hell Zayn throws together when he remembers food exists.”

Harry simply leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back of Aspen’s. His smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly toward her, voice dropping just enough to make her stomach twist. “Wasn’t talkin’ about the food.”

Aspen nearly choked on her bite of rice.

Her wide eyes snapped up to him, cheeks instantly burning as she realized exactly what he was implying. Her fingers curled against the napkin in her lap as she shot him a scandalized look, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

Zayn, always one to catch on quickly, just chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Niall, on the other hand, took an extra second before groaning in exaggerated disgust. “Christ, Harry. I did not need that mental image while I’m eating.”

Harry only grinned, winking at Aspen before casually picking his fork back up like he hadn’t just made her want to shrink into the floor.

Aspen, flustered beyond belief, pressed her lips together, glancing down at her plate as if it might save her from the warmth spreading all the way to her ears. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, nudging his knee with hers beneath the table.

Harry let out a low chuckle, nudging her back. “But you like me anyway.”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer—mostly because it was true. And he damn well knew it.

Harry smirked, nudging Aspen lightly with his knee under the table. “Guess that means you’ll have to start cooking for us more often, yeah?”

Aspen rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t argue. Instead, she focused on eating her own food, her lips twitching slightly as the conversation between them carried on.

The energy was easy, lighthearted. They talked about everything and nothing—Niall complaining about a client who wouldn’t stop moving while getting tattooed, Zayn discussing the new pieces he and Harry had lined up, Aspen giggling at their banter.

As the laughter settled, the four of them fell into easy conversation, the clinking of utensils against plates filling the quiet lulls between their words. Harry sat comfortably next to Aspen, his arm draped lazily along the back of her chair, occasionally letting his fingers brush the ends of her hair. It was subtle—so subtle that if someone wasn’t looking, they wouldn’t notice—but Aspen felt every touch, every slight movement of his fingers, and it made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

Zayn was the first to steer the conversation into something deeper, leaning back in his chair as he chewed. “So, what’s the plan for the future?” He raised a brow, glancing between them. “Y’know, since we’re all clearly on different paths here. You lot got it all figured out?”

Niall snorted. “Figure out what? That I’ll probably be covered head to toe in ink before I turn thirty and still be eating this girl’s cooking?” He gestured to Aspen with his fork, grinning. “Because if that’s the future, I’m pretty happy with it.”

Aspen smiled, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment. “You act like I’ll be cooking for you forever,” she teased.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, don’t do me like that. You’d miss me if I stopped showing up to steal your food.”

Harry rolled his eyes, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. “You’re like a stray cat. Feed you once, and you never leave.”

Zayn chuckled. “That explains why he practically lives at the shop.”

Niall threw up his hands in mock offense. “You lot love having me around, don’t even try to deny it.”

Aspen giggled, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the question Zayn had asked. “But, um, I don’t really know yet,” she admitted softly. “I mean, I have ideas. I love books, so maybe something with that… but it’s hard to say.”

Harry glanced at her, taking in the slight uncertainty in her voice. He could tell she thought about it—probably more than she let on—but she wasn’t one to be loud about her ambitions. She kept them tucked away, only revealing them in small doses, and for some reason, that made him want to hear them even more.

“What about you?” Aspen nudged Harry’s arm lightly.

He took a slow bite, chewing as he considered his answer. “Dunno,” he said finally. “Tattooin’ is what I love. Keeps me steady, keeps me busy. But…” He paused, swirling his fork against his plate. “I guess I wouldn’t mind somethin’ more down the road.”

“More?” Aspen tilted her head, intrigued.

Harry glanced at her, a small smirk playing at his lips. “What? You think I wanna be slingin’ ink forever?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You’re really good at it.”

His chest swelled slightly at the compliment, but he only shrugged. “Yeah, but sometimes… I think about what it’d be like to settle down a bit.”

That made Aspen pause, her fork hovering mid-air. “Settle down?”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Someday.”

Aspen lowered her gaze, heat crawling up her neck. The thought of Harry—this inked-up, reckless, sometimes smug but always caring man—talking about settling down was almost impossible to picture. But at the same time… it wasn’t.

“What about you?” Harry’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

She blinked up at him, then quickly shook her head. “I—I don’t know,” she murmured. “I never really thought about it.”

Harry hummed, studying her carefully before offering her a teasing grin. “Guess I’ll have to change that, then.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest, and before she could even process his words, Niall groaned dramatically.

“Christ, you two are disgustingly cute. Can we eat in peace without watchin’ you make heart eyes at each other?”

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re just jealous.”

Niall scoffed. “Jealous my ass. I like my peace. Not my fault these two make it impossible.”

Zayn smirked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Speaking of impossible,” he started, glancing over at Niall with a knowing glint in his eye. “Didn’t you go on that date the other week? The one with that girl you wouldn’t shut up about?”

Aspen perked up immediately, turning her attention to Niall, who suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. She had never heard anything about Niall dating, and now she was curious.

“Oh?” Aspen tilted her head, eyes bright with interest. “Who’s this mystery girl?”

Niall groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Why do you always have to bring shit up, man?” he grumbled at Zayn before exhaling dramatically. “It was just a date. Nothin’ serious.”

“That’s not what you were saying last week,” Zayn shot back smugly.

Aspen turned fully in her chair, leaning in closer with excitement. “Come on, tell me! I need details.”

Harry snorted beside her, clearly enjoying Niall’s misery as he took another bite of his food.

Niall gave them all an exasperated look before slumping back in his seat. “Her name’s Elena. Met her at a café—well, more like she bumped into me and spilled coffee all over my jeans.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “She was all flustered and apologetic, tryin’ to clean me up, and I was just standin’ there like an idiot. But we got talkin’, and I don’t know… she was easy to talk to.”

Aspen smiled at the way his voice softened slightly, like he hadn’t meant to sound so fond but couldn’t help it. “That sounds cute,” she mused. “So? How was the date?”

Niall shrugged. “It was good. Took her to dinner, talked a lot. She’s studying psychology, so she’s always analyzin’ people. Pretty sure she was psychoanalyzin’ me the whole time.”

Zayn chuckled. “That’s probably not hard.”

Niall shot him a look before continuing. “Anyway, she’s nice. Sweet. Smart as hell. But I dunno, she’s busy with school, and I’m always at the shop. We haven’t really talked much since.”

Aspen frowned slightly, sensing that there was more to it than just being busy. “Do you like her?”

Niall hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… yeah, I guess.”

Zayn scoffed. “You more than ‘guess.’ You texted her three days straight after the date.”

Aspen gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my god, Niall!”

Niall groaned again, dropping his head against the table. “I hate you all.”

Harry, who had been relatively quiet, finally smirked and chimed in. “So, what’s stoppin’ you? If you like her, ask her out again.”

Niall lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “You make it sound so easy.”

Aspen tapped her fingers against the table thoughtfully before an idea struck her. “Wait! What if I helped?”

Niall narrowed his eyes. “Help how?”

“Well,” Aspen began, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “you said she’s in psychology, right? I actually have a class with her. We’re not super close or anything, but I could… I don’t know, maybe put in a good word for you?”

Zayn barked out a laugh. “Oh, this is gold.”

Niall groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time, dragging his hands down his face. “Jesus. This is humiliatin’.”

“It’s not humiliating!” Aspen argued. “Think of it as… giving you a little push in the right direction.”

Harry chuckled beside her, shaking his head. “That’s dangerous, mate. Aspen’s got a way of getting what she wants.”

Aspen elbowed him playfully but turned back to Niall with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be subtle, I promise. Just casual, ‘Oh, Niall’s such a great guy’ kind of stuff.”

Niall sighed dramatically. “If this backfires, I’m blamin’ you.”

Aspen grinned. “Deal.”

Zayn smirked. “This is the most entertaining lunch I’ve had in weeks.”

As they continued eating, the conversation naturally flowed into playful teasing and joking, but Aspen made a mental note to follow through on her promise. If there was a chance she could help Niall get the push he needed, she’d gladly take it.

Aspen, still burning from Harry’s words, buried her face in her hands. Harry only grinned wider, reaching over to steal another bite from Niall’s plate, completely unbothered.

As the conversation carried on, Aspen couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry—at the way he fit so easily into the dynamic, at the way he teased and laughed and looked at her like she was something he wanted to keep close.

And for a little while, Harry let himself sink into it.

No stress, no secrets.

Just this. Her.

He’d hold onto it for as long as he could.

Harry sat back in his chair, absently twirling his fork between his fingers as conversation carried on around him. The food was good—great, actually, because Aspen had made it—but if he was being honest, he wasn’t fully present. His mind kept slipping, getting caught up in memories that were much more intoxicating than anything else in the room.

He’d been doing his best to keep himself engaged, nodding along when Niall teased Zayn about something, adding in a comment here and there, but all it took was one glance at Aspen, one moment of catching the soft curve of her lips as she smiled, or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and he was gone again.

His grip tightened slightly on his fork as his mind drifted back to that night in his office. He could still feel her, taste her, the phantom sensation of her lips and tongue making his stomach coil with heat. The way she had looked at him—wide-eyed, eager, completely wrapped up in him—had nearly ruined him. He’d had plenty of hookups before, but none of them stuck in his head like this, none of them made him crave more than just the physical. But Aspen? She was burned into his mind, into his fucking soul.

And the bathroom. Christ.

He swallowed hard, taking a sip of his drink to keep himself grounded, but it didn’t help much. He could still see the way she’d knelt for him, how shy she had been but how determined, how she’d hesitated but only for a moment before she found her rhythm. The contrast between her softness and the way she had wrecked him had his head spinning even now. He’d never been so completely fucking whipped for someone, never felt this all-consuming urge to take and give all at once. The way she’d looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers barely able to wrap around him, her lips stretched as far as they could go—it had been enough to make him lose all control.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself subtly as he forced himself to refocus. He had to get a grip. It wouldn’t do him any favors to sit there getting lost in his own head while they were all supposed to be enjoying a meal. He glanced over at Aspen, catching the way she was laughing at something Niall said, completely unaware of the way she had him tied in knots.

She had no idea what she did to him.

Harry exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before speaking up, his voice deliberately casual. “Hey, babe,” he said, shifting his attention to Aspen. “Think you could help me move a few things around in my office?”

Aspen blinked, surprised by the sudden request. “Oh,” she said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, of course.”

Harry smirked, pleased with her easy agreement. Truthfully, there wasn’t much that needed moving, but with Niall and Zayn getting caught up with clients, he had a perfect excuse to steal her away for a few moments. He needed a break, and more than that, he wanted to be alone with her—just her.

“Tryin’ to get her alone, are we?” Niall teased, wiggling his brows as he stood from the table to grab his supplies.

Zayn chuckled, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Smooth, mate.”

Harry rolled his eyes, standing as well before placing a firm hand at Aspen’s lower back, guiding her toward the hall leading to his office. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

Aspen followed quietly, her heart picking up its pace just from the warmth of his palm against her. There was something about the way he touched her—casual yet possessive, like he was always reminding her that she was his. She tried not to overthink it, but the way her stomach fluttered made it impossible.

The moment they stepped into his office, Harry shut the door behind them, leaning against it for a second as he took her in. She looked soft under the dim lighting, her features gentle but curious, and for a split second, he forgot why he even made up the excuse in the first place.

“So… what are we moving?” Aspen asked, glancing around the office.

Harry tilted his head slightly, dragging his lip ring between his teeth as he considered her. Then, with a slow grin, he shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted. “Might’ve just wanted to get you alone.”

Aspen’s cheeks flushed instantly. “Harry,” she scolded, but there was no real bite to it.

“What?” He smirked, stepping closer, his hands finding her hips with ease. “Can’t a man want some time with his girl?”

Aspen’s breath hitched, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest to create the smallest bit of distance, but Harry only squeezed her hips gently, pulling her in just enough to make her heart race.

“You—” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. “You could’ve just said that instead of pretending you needed help moving things.”

Harry hummed, dipping his head to brush his nose against hers. “Mm. Could’ve,” he mused. “But this way was more fun.”

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her resolve slipping just from the heat of his proximity. He had this effect on her—one look, one touch, and she was undone.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” she murmured.

Harry grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. “Good,” he said simply. “Because you do the same to me.”

Aspen barely had a second to process his words before Harry closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, fingers pressing firmly against the fabric of her top as he pulled her even closer. She melted into him instantly, her own hands slipping up to cup his face, thumbs grazing along his jawline as she sighed softly against his lips.

It started slow, sweet, like they had all the time in the world to explore each other. Harry kissed her with an intensity that sent warmth spilling through her veins, his lips moving over hers with a tenderness that contradicted the way his fingers flexed against her waist. It had been a long day, a long week, and this was what they needed—just the two of them, no distractions, no rushed moments stolen between the chaos of their lives.

But as much as Harry wanted to savor this, his self-control started slipping the second Aspen let out the softest whimper against his mouth. His grip tightened, his lips parting to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping against hers in a way that had her knees weakening beneath her. Aspen clung to him, her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as she let herself drown in him.

Harry groaned softly, one hand leaving her waist to tangle in her hair, angling her head just how he wanted as he took his time tasting her. The soft scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body pressed against his—it was overwhelming in the best way. He could stay like this forever, but then Aspen pressed just a bit closer, her body molding against his like she was meant to be there, and Harry nearly lost it.

His lips moved from hers, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down to the soft skin of her neck. Aspen gasped, tilting her head to give him more access as his teeth scraped lightly against her pulse point. He smiled against her skin when he felt her shiver, his other hand gripping her waist even tighter.

“Harry,” she whispered, voice breathy, and it sent a shudder down his spine.

It took everything in him to pull back, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. His chest rose and fell heavily, his grip on her tightening before he forced himself to let go completely.

Aspen blinked up at him, lips swollen and eyes dazed. “Why’d you stop?” she asked softly, her voice laced with curiosity and the faintest hint of disappointment.

Harry chuckled, his hands finding her hips once more as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Because, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, “if I keep going, I’m gonna start something I can’t finish.”

Aspen’s face turned a deep shade of red at his words, and she quickly dropped her gaze. “Oh,” she squeaked out in a breath, suddenly very interested in the buttons on his shirt.

Harry grinned, loving the way she got all shy on him. “Cute,” he mused, nudging her chin up with his fingers so she’d look at him again. “C’mon, little mouse. Have a seat.”

Aspen obeyed, settling onto the small sofa against the wall, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she tried to recover from the heat still lingering in her veins.

Harry grabbed his sketchbook from the desk before sitting beside her, his arm draped along the back of the couch as he flipped to a fresh page. “I needed a break anyway,” he murmured, tapping his pencil against the paper.

Aspen peeked at him, still feeling a little breathless. “What are you gonna draw?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Harry smirked, eyes flicking to hers before looking back at the blank page. “Dunno yet,” he admitted. “Maybe you.”

Aspen’s heart skipped at that, but she only tilted her head slightly, a confused smile pulling at her lips. “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

Harry stilled for a moment, debating whether he should keep it to himself or let her in on the little secret he had been holding onto for months. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips as he exhaled, deciding that maybe it was time.

Instead of answering right away, he flipped through his sketchbook, fingers dragging over the edges of the pages as he searched for something specific. Aspen watched curiously, her brows knitting together when she noticed how careful he was being, almost hesitant.

And then he turned the book toward her.

Aspen blinked. Her lips parted slightly as her gaze landed on the first drawing—a sketch of her, sitting beneath a tree, completely lost in her book. The details were so precise, so tenderly drawn, she could almost feel the sunlight filtering through the leaves above her, just like it had been that day during their camping trip.

Her throat tightened. “Is this…?”

“The first time I sketched you,” Harry finished for her, voice softer than usual. “Back at the campsite.”

Aspen reached out, her fingers barely grazing the page as she stared at it, taking in every detail. “You… you drew this back then?” Her voice was breathy, almost disbelieving.

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. You just… I dunno, you looked so peaceful sitting there. I couldn’t help it.”

Aspen’s chest ached in the best way possible. She turned the page, revealing another sketch of her—this one of her standing by Zayn’s car, arms crossed, deep in thought. And then another of her sitting at the tattoo shop, nose buried in a book, oblivious to everything around her. There were so many.

Page after page, she found herself staring at different versions of herself through Harry’s eyes. Some were quick, rough sketches, as if he had drawn them in a hurry before the image slipped from his mind. Others were detailed, shaded with such care that they looked almost lifelike.

She swallowed thickly, emotions swelling in her chest as she reached another drawing—one that looked fresher, the graphite still bold and untouched by time. It was her, curled up on the couch, wearing the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Harry the other night.

“I drew that one a couple nights ago,” Harry admitted, watching her reaction closely. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Aspen’s fingers trembled slightly as she turned to face him. “You never told me,” she whispered.

Harry held her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor slipping into something more vulnerable. “Didn’t think I needed to,” he murmured. “You’re just… always on my mind, I guess.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest. The weight of his words settled deep in her bones, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She didn’t know what to say, so instead, she reached out and laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand in silent understanding.

Harry let out a breath and flipped to the back of the sketchbook. “That’s not the only thing I’ve been working on,” he admitted, flipping past a few blank pages before stopping at something else entirely.

Aspen frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as she realized it wasn’t another sketch—it was handwriting. Lyrics.

She tilted her head, reading the words on the page.

"Sweet creature, had another talk about where it’s going wrong… but we’re still young, we don’t know where we’re going, but we know where we belong…”

Aspen’s breath hitched. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Harry… this is—”

Harry cut her off with a nervous chuckle, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, I’ve been dabbling with the guitar,” he admitted. “Words just kinda… flow sometimes.”

Aspen traced the title with her fingertips, her heart swelling at the sight of it. Sweet Creature.

“It’s about me, isn’t it?” she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Harry smirked, but there was a softness behind it. “Who else would it be about?”

Aspen bit her lip, a deep warmth spreading through her chest. She wanted to ask him to play it for her, but something about the way he was looking at her—like he wasn’t quite ready to share it completely—made her hold back.

Instead, she turned the page, revealing another song title scribbled onto the next sheet.

"Meet Me in the Hallway."

Aspen’s brows knitted together as she read through the lyrics, the weight of the words pressing down on her chest. There was something haunting about them, something aching, as if each line bled with regret. The melody was absent, but she could feel it in the rhythm of the syllables, in the spaces between the words where silence spoke just as loudly.

Her fingers traced over the ink, eyes scanning over the phrase again and again.

"Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out..."

She swallowed thickly, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “This one feels…” she trailed off, trying to pinpoint the exact emotion clawing at her chest.

Harry, who had been watching her reaction closely, answered before she could. His voice was quiet, low. “Guilty?”

Aspen’s head snapped up, and when their eyes met, she understood immediately. This wasn’t just a song. It was them.

It was all the nights she had spent wondering what she had done wrong, why he had looked at her like she was both too much and not enough all at once. It was every moment he had pushed her away despite the way his body betrayed him, lingering too close, brushing against her like he couldn't help himself.

It was the space he had put between them, and the silence that had suffocated her when she hadn't understood why.

Aspen’s chest tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the sketchbook. She had never asked him about those days, about why he had acted the way he had. Some part of her had been too afraid of the answer.

And yet, here it was—laid bare in ink and paper, more honest than he had ever been aloud.

“Harry…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, exhaling through his nose as he ran a hand through his curls. “I know,” he murmured, his eyes flickering away for a second before coming back to her. “I fucked up back then.”

Aspen sucked in a shaky breath. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Harry cut in, firmer this time. His jaw tensed, his fingers gripping the fabric of his jeans. “I need to. Because I know how I treated you before, and I don’t ever want you t'think for a second that it was because of you.”

Aspen’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She searched his face, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had imagined the tension, that she had misread the way his eyes had lingered on her, the way he had always seemed to fight against something when he was near her.

And now, hearing him say it outright, the confirmation was almost too much.

“I don’t think that anymore,” she admitted, her voice soft, reassuring. “Not now.”

Harry let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping as if he had been holding onto something heavy for too long. His fingers inched toward hers, hesitant at first, until Aspen reached for him on her own, closing the distance.

His skin was warm, rough at the fingertips, and yet he held her hand with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

Aspen studied him for a long moment, taking in the little signs of his discomfort—the way his knee bounced slightly, the way his thumb rubbed absentmindedly over her knuckles, as if grounding himself. She could see the vulnerability in his face, the unspoken weight behind his words.

Slowly, a small smile pulled at her lips. “I think it’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Both of them.”

Harry’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, searching for any trace of dishonesty. “Yeah?”

Aspen nodded. “Yeah.”

For a second, he just stared at her, and then something in him seemed to settle. His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, and a small, genuine smile spread across his lips.

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Didn’t plan on showing you these t'day,” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his tone.

Aspen squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with something deep and warm. “I’m glad you did.”

They sat there, fingers intertwined, the sketchbook still resting between them like a silent bridge to all the things they had never said. And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.

Because for once, it wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t suffocating.

It was simply them.

A quiet stillness settled between them, warm and familiar, as Aspen gently traced the edges of the sketchbook with her fingertips. The weight of everything they had just shared lingered in the air, unspoken yet understood. Harry, still holding her hand, let his thumb lazily graze over her knuckles, grounding himself in the moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the intimacy of her learning about his songs, or if it was simply the way she looked at him—like he was something good, something worth knowing—but a sense of peace washed over him.

Without thinking, he shifted closer, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. Aspen let out a quiet breath of surprise but didn’t resist, instinctively tucking herself against him. Her cheek pressed softly against his shoulder, and Harry relished the feeling of her fitting so perfectly against him.

For a moment, they sat like that, just breathing in each other’s presence.

Then, Harry tilted his head down, brushing his lips against her temple. It was slow, lingering, like he wanted to imprint himself into her skin. “Didn’t know how much I needed this,” he murmured, voice low and thick with something tender.

Aspen smiled, her fingers finding the hem of his sleeve and lightly toying with the fabric. “Needed what?” she asked softly.

Harry pressed another kiss against her hair, his lips barely leaving her skin as he whispered, “You. Just you, sugar.”

Aspen felt her chest tighten in the best way, a warmth spreading through her limbs at his words. She turned slightly in his hold, looking up at him with those soft, doe-like eyes of hers. The affection in them made something deep in his chest clench, a feeling so strong it nearly stole his breath.

Without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It wasn’t rushed or filled with desperation—it was something deeper, something sweeter. His lips moved against hers with a careful kind of reverence, as if every kiss was meant to tell her all the things he struggled to put into words.

Aspen sighed against his mouth, her hand sliding up to rest against his chest, fingers curling slightly into his shirt. She felt his heartbeat beneath her palm—steady, strong, real.

Harry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. “God, you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered between kisses, voice hushed like he was speaking a secret only for her.

Aspen’s cheeks warmed, and she buried her face against his neck, a quiet giggle escaping her lips. “You always say that.”

Harry chuckled, nuzzling against her. “’Cause it’s true.”

She hummed in response, her fingers drawing small patterns against his chest. The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t awkward or uncertain. It was filled with the quiet kind of love that didn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

But then Harry, feeling the way she melted into him, feeling the way her presence made everything better, suddenly had the overwhelming urge to say it out loud.

The words formed on his tongue before he could second-guess himself.

“I love you.”

Aspen stiffened slightly against him, her breath catching.

Harry felt his heart stutter, a rare flicker of nervousness crawling up his spine. He hadn’t planned on saying it—not yet, not now—but the moment had felt too right to hold it back. And now, waiting for her response, he felt completely, utterly exposed.

Aspen slowly pulled back just enough to look up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if trying to determine if she had heard him correctly.

Harry held her gaze, unwavering. He didn’t regret saying it. Harry was more so nervous if he had said it too soon, or if it was too much right now.

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her throat working as she swallowed. She looked so soft—so pure in the way she was taking in his words, like she wanted to tuck them away somewhere safe.

Then, almost shyly, she ducked her head, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that made Harry’s chest tighten. Her fingers played with the hem of his sleeve again, fidgeting. And then, in the quietest, sweetest voice, she whispered, “I love you too.”

Harry swore his heart stopped for a second.

A slow, breathy chuckle left his lips, pure relief flooding through him. “Yeah?” he murmured, tipping her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him again.

Aspen nodded, still impossibly shy, but her eyes held no hesitation. “Yeah.”

Harry felt something shift inside him, something settle. He leaned down, pressing another lingering kiss to her lips, his grip around her tightening like he never wanted to let go.

“Sweetest thing,” he whispered against her mouth.

Aspen smiled against his lips, and when they pulled away, she nestled back into his side, her fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his arm.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, hearts steady and full.

And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.