#oh well i refuse to mope about it

[augustinthewater1995]

Praying this immunology appointment I'm supposed to have today is actually helpful/a doctor decides to finally do something for me

[themultifanshipper]

Hi I love your writing!!Could you maybe do the 🟡 prompt from your list with Oscar. I’m thinking maybe a female driver reader enemies to lovers kind of situation but it is really up to you

Thanks💜

You and Oscar didn't usually find yourselves battling on track, because you didn't usually qualify close to each other. But this time… this time you had locked out the front row at your home race, and it was going to be a blood bath.

Warnings: hate sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, the usual really, although I find the ending surprisingly fluffy for me but oh well, also Oscar is kind of a dick in this ngl, also Bestfriend!Lando bc I cannot seperate them even in fiction

Requested from my prompt list

Obviously this was a fight you refused to lose. You were in front of your home crowd, qualifying p2 behind your teammate for one of the rare times your car hadn't failed you half way through qualifying.

These days you felt like you were driving a fucking Williams.

Anyway, the lights went out and for the next hour and a half the cameras did not leave you two for even a second, the battle for p1 being so intense. You'd lost count of how many times you had overtaken each other, and both of you had damage. Part of your front wing was missing, your DRS was glitching, and Oscar had floor damage. Both of you were too stubborn to come into the pits so you kept going despite your engineers' orders, and on the last corner of the last lap, you brake checked Oscar.

You don't even remember doing it. All you remember is the crowd roaring your name as the McLaren crew lifted you out of your seat and carried you over their heads chanting the song they had affectionately dubbed yours.

“She's a maniac, maniac on the floor! And she's driving like she never has before!”

You remember the podium ceremony, Lando had overtaken Oscar thanks to you and was spraying you in the face from his p2 spot, as Oscar scowled and sprayed Zak, who stood off to the side, ready to give you two a stern talking to after the ceremony.

You remember being yelled at in his office. Something about him smoothing it over with the stewards so that you didn't get a penalty at your home race, at which point Oscar also started yelling, at Zak, at you, and at the unfairness of it all.

You remember going out to a club with Lando, the heavy bass of the music (and the alcohol) transporting you to another realm of existence as you danced together.

It's when you'd had one two many tequila shots (courtesy of Lando's fat bank account) that you thought it would be a good idea to call Oscar.

Unfortunately for him, he answered.

“Hello? Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning? Has something happened? Is Lando in a coma? No? Then don't fucking call me”

And with that he hung up on you. So you rang again, not one for giving up so easily.

“For the love of Christ, WHAT?!”

“Oscar! Why aren't you out celebrating your podium?” you said loudly over the music.

“Yeah Oscar I miss partying with youuuuu” Lando whined into the phone over your shoulder.

“Fucking leave me alone!” Oscar shouted, and he hung up again, but even though the club was loud, you definitely heard his voice crack.

So you and Lando had the marvelous idea to go to his hotel (you were staying at your own place, with Lando, it being your home race) and knock on his door. And he opened it to the sight of you and Lando clinging onto each other for dear life.

“Fucking hell you two look like shit, what have you been doing?” his eyes roamed your figures, staying a bit too long on yours, and on your ridiculous dress (picked by Lando of course) that probably exposed more of you than it covered.

The two of you barged into his room and sat on his bed. While he just stared you down.

“Well?... what the fuck do you want?” he scowled.

“We came to ask why you're moping here instead of celebrating your podium with us” Lando pouted.

“What is there to celebrate? You-” he pointed at you “ruined my race by making a dangerous move. I'm not celebrating a fucking p3 when I would have won fair and square!”

You and Lando looked at each other, which was a mistake, because you immediately started giggling uncontrollably.

“GET OUT!” Oscar shouted louder than you'd ever heard him, and Lando immediately ran for the door.

Mopey grumbling Oscar was hilarious, but you'd come to find that furious Oscar was downright terrifying when he needed to be.

You weren't scared though, you'd always found angry Oscar incredibly hot, and right now you'd had enough alcohol to make sure you couldn't run even if you tried.

The furious expression on his face as he stared you down did make you squirm though, and your thighs clenched together involuntarily.

His eyes were drawn to the movement, quickly scanning the expanse of your bare thighs before snapping back up to your face and taking a step towards you.

"Well?! Anything to say for yourself? A fucking apology perhaps? Or even just a reason as to why you're still sitting on my bed in that slutty excuse of a dress instead of running away like Lando?”

You were outraged at his words. How dare he say that.

“How fucking dare you!” you managed to stand up on wobbly legs to shove him backwards. Unsurprisingly he didn't move an inch. “This dress is perfectly fine! It's a club dress!”

“Oh please! It's indecent, I can almost see your-”

“SECONDLY!” you interrupted before he could finish that particular sentence, the thought of him actually seeing you so exposed slightly overwhelming you “I didn't run away because I’m not fucking scared of a dickhead like you!”

He stepped closer to you, so close that if he extended his arm he could touch you if he wanted to. His eyebrows were lost in his hairline, and there was a fire in his eyes you had rarely seen there before, as he shook with rage.

“If you’re not scared of me then why are you trembling like a fucking leaf? Is it because you're cold in that pathetic excuse of an outfit?”

“You seem awfully focused on my dress for someone who claims to be so nonchalant” you purred, stepping closer.

“Fuck you.” he scowled.

“Ooh is that a proposition?” you smirked, your bodies were almost touching now.

“Careful, don't get too cocky, I'm obviously not as easy for it as you” he spat, eyes darting down to where goosebumps had risen over the exposed skin of your breasts.

“How could I not get cocky?” you leaned in close to whisper “I'm the one who got a first place trophy a few hours ago…” and with that, you pushed past him and started walking towards the door.

But just before you could grab the handle, you were pushed flat against the door roughly and you gasped as Oscar growled in your ear.

“Fuck you, and fuck your trophy, and fuck this fucking dress!”

He wasted no time spinning you around and slamming you back against the door, plastering himself against your body and slotting a thigh between yours, forcing you to spread your legs for him.

“This dress is going to be useless by the time I’m fucking done with you”

You were reduced to a puddle of mush as his hands ripped the flimsy fabric, flinging it across the room and his mouth immediately went to your tits, mouthing over them and groaning into the skin. One of his hands went up to grab your hair and the other grabbed your ass hard enough to leave bruises. He tensed his thigh as you grinded on it shamelessly, whimpering as the friction of his jeans felt like heaven against your barely covered cunt.

His mouth went up to your neck, licking and sucking the skin it found in it's path before pausing and looking at you, his eyes hooded and mouth gasping for air as he panted into your mouth.

“I’m going to make you pay for the race, sweetheart, I'm going to fucking ruin you.”

And ruin you he did. Your body was on fire, your thighs were fucking soaked, and Oscar had you arched into the bed, ass up in the air as he pounded into you while holding your head up to look at yourself in the mirror that was facing the bed.

You looked like sin personified, makeup running down your face, drool and tears making a mess of the sheets as yet another orgasm wracked through your body.

He pulled out and turned you over, spreading your legs, weeping cunt on display for him.

He moaned at the sight of your used body, marks and bruises blooming all over it.

“Fuck you're so perfect for me, I can't get enough of this pussy” he slid his tip through your slit a couple of times, just enough to make you start begging again, before sliding back in to the hilt. “Fuck- begging so perfect for me when you're not running your mouth” he growled before pounding into you mercilessly and rubbed the meat of his palm over your clit. The friction was too much as your hands flew to his shoulders and your nails dug in, making him groan as his pace faltered and he grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head.

His face hovered inches above yours, sweat dripping off him onto you as he pounded into you for all he was worth.

“Too much…” you gasped “Osc, I can't”

“Shhhhh baby, you can do one more for me, I know you can.”

He kissed you, much too soft in comparison to how he was railing you into next week. And he kissed away the tears on your cheeks as his hand let your wrists go in favour of wrapping his arms around you to lift you up into his lap, deepening the angle of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure.

He buried his head in your shoulder as he rolled his hips, fingers going back to play with your clit as you writhed above him.

“Oscar fuck… So deep… I’m so close, fuck don't stop!” You wrapped your arms around him as you finally kissed him without thinking, making him groan into your mouth as his hips never faltered.

He wouldn't dream of stopping, he’d been waiting for this moment a long time, and now that he had you, he was going to do everything he could to keep you.

“Come for me love, come on my cock, good girl…” he panted into your mouth.

It was like a volcano erupting as you came around him. You clamped down hard around his cock and it threw him over the edge as well, biting into the meat of your shoulder, so deep he could almost taste blood. You gasped and your hips bucked into his gently as you both rode the waves of your highs together.

Once the two of you regained a sense of where you were, wrapped in each other’s arms and covered in sweat, you just looked at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.

Daylight was already filtering in through the blinds and for the first time, you noticed the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

Neither of you wanted to let go, despite supposedly being bitter rivals. The two of you surged forwards at the same time and his lips were soft against yours as you clung to each other, hands grasping every piece of flesh they could reach. And you didn't let go until the sun was well and truly up, and Oscar ignored the calls from the team to say they were going to leave without him if he didn't get there soon.

“Stay with me for a few days?” You whispered into his neck as you lay under the covers with him.

“Okay” he kissed the top of your head sleepily, drifting off after an intense race weekend (wink wink).

You checked your phone for messages, only seeing one from Lando.

‘Do I even need to ask where you slept last night?’

Despite the obvious bait from your best friend, you decided to reply:

“Nope... but fyi I haven't actually slept at all ;) ’

You turned your phone off, and snuggled back under the covers with Oscar, who was already snoring softly behind you.

[urfavlarry]

hi!! i’m not sure if you saw but sbg released a new episode!

i totally get if your still not taking requests for it, but i would love to see you write smthn with sick!tyler x reader (or the other way around) and whoever isn’t sick is just like super doting and caring.

i love your writing sm, your style is so engaging!!

Sickeningly sweet୧ ‧₊˚🩺 ⋅

Tyler Hernández x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: taking care of a sick and very stubborn Tyler!

A/N: WOAHH GUESS WHOS BACK?!? Did y’all miss me? >;D I feel so bad for this person they probably forgot about requesting this but.. it’s out now! Sorry if it’s short, I tried a new style so hope it’s aesthetically pleasing for everyone haha. anyways enjoy!!

Translations: mi Alma = my soul/my soulmate

— The flu. The deadliest of diseases to every man on this planet, making them lay in bed all day moping and whining through coughs and loud sneezes. That was the case for Tyler. He hasn’t been feeling well for a few days now, so Taylor decided to call you over because she said she couldn’t handle his pissy attitude much longer. You agreed without a word, coming by their house to check on the mess your boyfriend has become and boy was her description of his attitude spot on. He refused to take his medicine, whined whenever you woke him up to eat and was so careless that he threw his tissues wherever he wanted.

You sighed, pouring him the medicine for what felt like the hundredth time that day and inched the spoon closer to his mouth. He looked at you with those tired, puffy eyes, furrowing his brows at the bitter liquid he hated oh so much.

“No.”

You look at him in disbelief but take a deep breath to calm your nerves. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, willing to put your life on the line for him but when he was sick he was just unbearable.

“Ty, please for gods sake take the medicine.”

He shook his head, looking away from you like an angry child and huffed. You sigh, putting the medicine away. You sat on the edge of his bed in silence, your mind blank. Tyler noticed your quiet demeanour, rolling his eyes before pulling you on the bed with the little strength his sick body had. He lied down on top of you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Accepting your fate, you let him snuggle up to you, playing with his hair and humming to yourself since your phone was on the other side of the room and you doubt he’d let you go any time soon. He slowly dozes off, his grip loosens so you take the opportunity and get out of his grasp. You take the medicine again, lifting his head just a bit and put the spoon in his mouth. He swallowed but cursed a bit, rolling to his side and got back to sleeping.

You smiled softly, leaving him to rest for a while longer. He was slowly getting better each day and if he rested and took his medicine tomorrow he should be fine in about 2 days.

A few hours later, you cooked some soup with Tylers mom and Taylor, chatting away when you heard a door creak open. Tyler came into view, his hair messy and clothes soaked in sweat. You cringed slightly but dragged him to the bathroom, running him a bath. He hugged your body from behind, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ before letting go. You were about to leave when he mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You turned to see him already in the bath tub and raise a brow.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” He asks and furrows his brow, here it was again, his bratty attitude.

“What did you say just now?”

“I said stay!” He whisper-yelled, huffing in annoyance.

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him as you sat down next to the bath tub. You helped wash his hair, his shoulders relaxing under your gentle touch. You talked about random things that came to mind, telling him how the group missed his presence at school and what they were up to. He listened quietly, letting you talk since he loved the sound of your ‘angelic voice’ as he would put it.

You wash the rest of the soap away from his hair and leave the bathroom so he could get changed, going back to the kitchen to help out. You poured yourself and Tyler some soup, the bowls warming up as the boiling liquid was poured inside. You smiled, Tylers mom thanking you before going to the living room with her own bowl of soup along with Taylor. The sick boy finally showed himself, his sweatpants hanging loosely on his waist and his shirt was messily put on. Even tho you’ve dated for about half a year now you still blushed every time you saw him in such a state, or when he gave you kisses.. these gestures still made your stomach do flips and act like a 12 year old girl.

Tyler noticed your flushed state and walked over to you, kissing your cheek before sitting down to eat. You looked away, shoving a spoon full of soup in your mouth to distract yourself. He chuckled softly, making you look at him to see his soft smile. It wasn’t often he smiled like this with the group, always trying to be tough and he was mostly moody but he made exceptions from time to time.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner then you.” He said and hugged your back, burying his head into your neck.

You smiled, putting away the dishes and turned around to hug him back. He was still a bit warm, but you could tell him temperature went down a good amount. He went to give you a kiss but you stopped him, putting your pointer finger on his lips.

“Nuh uh, no kisses for you, you’re still sick.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrist and put his other arm on the counter, caging you with his body. You knew it would be easy to get away, his body was still weak after all but you let him have his way just this once, completely ignoring the fact you would definitely get sick after this.

“A few germs won’t stop me from kissing mi Alma.”

He said with a little smirk on his face, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled, cupping his cheeks before pulling away. He picked you up, walking to his bedroom and throwing you on the bed. You rolled your eyes, going to get up but you were stopped by Tyler laying himself on top of you.

“Ty, I need to go home my mom and dad will be worried.” You say with a groan, but he just shrugged, telling you to deal with it.

“You can stay the night, I’m sure they don’t mind. Your mom loves me anyway and your dad calls me son so it’s fine.”

You sigh, tangling your hand in his already messy hair without another word. He hummed, satisfied with the fact you stayed and slowly fell into the arms of unconsciousness once more. You too started to feel tired, letting your body rest after the long day of ‘playing nurse’.

Who would’ve guessed that the next morning you would be the one waking up with a raging head ache and a sore throat while Tyler was as energetic as he ever was, teasing you to no end. It was his turn to be so sickeningly sweet to you that you would get better in no time.

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

[icyminghao]

If you're taking requests can you maybe do jealousy with boynextdoor?? I love your blog I haven't seen anyone write about them yet! <3

boynextdoor when they’re jealous

pairing: boynextdoor (ot6) x gn!reader genre: fluff, headcanon

note for anon: thank you so much!! hope you like it :)

JAEHYUN

as soon as he spots someone else getting too close to you, he turns into a clingy and whiny puppy

he’s not one to control who you interact with, but this particular person has been talking to you for the past hour, and he just wants your attention

he’s immediately going to your side and getting all up in your space, backhugging you and kissing your temple to show the person in front of you that you’re taken

acts dumb once the person takes the hint and leaves the two of you alone

holds your hand and never lets go for the remainder of the night (needs cuddles when you get home too)

“Well, yeah, I find it quite fun— oh!” your conversation with the random guy (Jongseong was his name, but you couldn’t be bothered to remember) in front of you at the party is interrupted when you feel a pair of familiar arms snake around your waist, Jaehyun’s chin coming to rest on your shoulder so naturally.

Jongseong looks a little taken aback, eyes flitting between Jaehyun’s arms around your waist and you. “Your boyfriend?”

You nod, pursing your lips together, and Jongseong makes up some flimsy excuse and leaves, unable to handle Jaehyun’s wary eyes on him. Jaehyun remains in his position long after Jongseong leaves.

“Who was that?” he whines, snuggling into your neck.

You smile, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “I don’t know, baby. I suppose he was just being friendly. Were you jealous?”

“What? No! Why would I be?” Jaehyun scoffs unconvincingly, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Sure, baby. Let’s go home, hm?”

SUNGHO

so sulky!!

he’s immediately whining and pouting and sulking in the corner the moment he spots you talking to some other guy

is honestly shocked at how this guy doesn’t know you’re taken with the way sungho literally wouldn’t leave your side the moment the two of you stepped into the party (that is, until he left to go to the bathroom)

saunters up to you and stares the guy down until he leaves, and then he’s immediately turning to you and whining about what just happened

needs reassurance from you that it was nothing, or he’ll be overthinking this interaction for a while

he just loves you too much and is so scared of losing you :(

“Quit staring, man. If looks could kill, that guy would have died ten times over with how you’re looking at him like that,” Jaehyun laughs, patting Sungho’s back.

Sungho had been glaring at this one guy who had struck up a conversation with you while he left for the bathroom. That sneaky little shit, Sungho thought, his gaze hardening by the second.

As if on cue, you look around and meet his gaze from across the room before he can spiral into an overthinking session, and you beam brightly at him.

The next thing he knew, you were standing right in front of him, seemingly having said something he was too lost in thought to pay attention to.

“Sorry, could you repeat that, sweetheart? I zoned out,” Sungho snakes an arm around your waist, squeezing the clothed skin with his hand.

You giggle, booping his nose, unaware of just how much he loved it whenever you did that. “I said, do you want to get out of here?”

“With you? Always.”

RIWOO

he strikes me as a silent overthinker :(

he isn’t the type to be confrontational about it with you, so he probably tends to bottle up his feelings and mope about it by himself

will probably try to act like everything is fine when it isn’t

he’s upset, yes, but he wouldn’t bring it up until you do (please do)

needs lots of reassurance that he won’t get left behind, please protect him T-T

“Hyeok, baby? Are you okay?” you nudge Riwoo from where the both of you are resting on the couch after coming home from a high school reunion dinner.

Riwoo doesn’t respond, seemingly lost in thought, and jolts when you snap your fingers in front of him. “Y-yeah? Did you say something?”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm? You know you can tell me anything, that’s what we promised each other,” you rub his arm affectionately, reaching out your free hand to cup his cheek.

Riwoo sighs. “It’s stupid… but Sunoo was so obviously flirting with you the entire time we were there, and I couldn’t help but recall how he had such a big crush on you in high school, and-”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling softly at him when you pull away.

“Hyeok-ie, it’s you I want to be with. Not him, okay? And your feelings are never stupid, baby. Never.”

The huge smile Riwoo beams at you in response is one that you keep in your memories for a long, long time.

TAESAN

good luck to whoever was trying to pick you up at the party you both were at, because taesan is pissed

at this point the whole world knows the two of you are dating with how he practically makes you wear his jacket all the time

he’s dumbfounded at how the guy who’s blatantly flirting with you couldn’t tell

i mean, his hand is literally on your waist. that’s evidence enough

stares him down and smirks as the guy squirms under taesan’s gaze before taking the hint and scurrying off

he’s not letting his hand on your waist go for the rest of the night

“Woah, did you see the look on his face? He was genuinely scared,” you turn to your boyfriend as the guy who was talking to you left somewhere hurriedly.

Taesan was very obviously stifling a laugh, before pursing his lips together and turning serious. “Yeah, it’s not like we were scaring him or anything.”

Your eyes narrow at his blatant attempt at acting. “Dongmin… did you do something to scare him?”

Taesan squirms under your gaze, before sighing and leaning his cheek on the top of your head in embarrassment. “Come on, baby! He was so obviously flirting with you! In front of me! How could I not do anything?”

You let out a laugh, reaching up to pat his head. “Okay, you big baby.”

LEEHAN

is in disbelief at the whole situation

someone!! is trying!! to pick up!! his person??? he cannot have that

goes over to your side immediately and snakes his arm around your waist, giving you a chaste kiss in greeting

gives the guy who was talking to you an eye smile like nothing happened, introducing himself as your boyfriend with a polite smile on his face (but with venom dripping from his words)

the guy takes the hint and leaves immediately, finally leaving the two of you alone together

is so cocky after the whole ordeal

“Wow, look at him, Hyunnie, it’s like he’s scared of us,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around Leehan’s left arm.

Leehan chuckles, looking down at you with the fondest look in his eyes, “Or, maybe he just realised how in love you are with me and how much he doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Hyun. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you tease, jokingly removing your arms around his.

Leehan simply smiles wider, turning to rest his hands around your waist. “Come on, babe. You love me.”

You sigh, returning his gaze with as much affection as you can muster. “That I do.”

WOONHAK

another sulky bf/overthinker

he’d literally be sulking in the corner and refusing to look at you for a while when you find him because he’s 1) jealous and 2) embarrassed for feeling jealous

he trusts you with all his heart, but he can’t help but compare himself to whoever is getting too close to you, and tends to spiral into an overthinking rabbit hole until you stop him

you’ll have to squish his face and reassure him that you’re only his and he’s only yours, and stay by his side for the rest of the night before he finally feels secure

never lets go of your hand after

“Woonhak? They told me I’d find you here,” you open the bedroom door, peering in only to find Woonhak sitting on the bed, eyes on his feet. “What’s wrong?”

Woonhak purses his lips together as you sit down beside him, saying nothing. You sigh, looking at him worriedly as you reach out to take his hand in yours, rubbing small circles on the back of his palm to give him silent reassurance.

After a while, he speaks up, so softly you almost don’t catch it. “Why do you love me?”

You’re stunned. Woonhak must’ve noticed your reaction, because he goes on to elaborate, “I saw Heeseung talking to you earlier, downstairs. And, I don’t know, Heeseung is just, so much cooler than me and I couldn’t help but think of-”

You rest your index finger against his lips, effectively shushing him. You feel your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh, baby,” you frown, cupping his face in your hands, “I love you because you’re you, Woonhak. Nothing and no one can change that.”

Woonhak looks like he’s about to burst into tears, and he reaches forward to wrap his arms around you, head resting on your shoulder. “I love you.”

You sigh contentedly, stroking his hair. “I love you, too.”

a/n: hehe i had quite a lot of fun writing this i hope y’all like it too!!

masterlist

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re not going.”

Keith picks his head up from the table. “Huh?”

“To the Blades,” Lance clarifies, chopping up something that looks like a bright pink potato and throwing it in a rapidly boiling pot in what Keith would call an aggressive manner. “You’re not going.”

“…I didn’t say I was.”

He didn’t. He didn’t mention anything about the Blades to any living soul. Like, yeah, he had made the decision and was going to, but.

There’s no reason Lance should know that.

“Good, then, because I took your uniform — which looks like a slutty catsuit, by the way, just so you’re aware — to the incinerator last night. It’s ash now.”

Keith stares at his best friend, jaw dropped, hands resting limply on the edge of the dining table, because — huh? pardon? what happened?

“Whatever identity crisis you’re having can happen here,” Lance adds, shaking some spices into the boiling pot and stirring it a couple times. He dips in a spoon, brings it up to his lips, then makes a face. “Here, try this.”

He marches over to where Keith has been moping as he makes dinner and shoves a spoon into his gaping mouth. Keith chokes, hot stew making its merry way down his trachea, eyes watering and chest heaving.

“A little too salty,” he rasps.

Lance scowls. “Fuck. I knew it. Gotta add more barbie potatoes.” He turns down the heat, grabbing more potatoes from the sack and busying himself with peeling them. Slowly, as he recovers from the fear of his actual lungs collapsing in on themselves, Keith stands, hesitantly approaching Lance and reaching for a knife to chop what he peels.

“So,” he starts.

Lance ignores him.

But Keith is used to this dynamic. It’s either this or flipped. Friends or not, if there’s one thing they can’t do it’s use their big boy words. So he carries on.

“I take it you…don’t want me to go, then.”

Lance grunts. “Oh, look, the caveman has room in his skull for a brain after all.”

“Uncalled for,” Keith says, scowling. “I am not the one who’s refusing to communicate right now.”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches upwards.

Score. Point to Keith.

“Obviously I don’t want you to leave, you stupid dumbass,” Lance admits finally. He wrestles the chopped roots out of Keith’s hands and practically dunks them in the pot, turning the heat back up. Keith smears his starch covered hands on his shirt in revenge (and then wisely takes three quick and giant steps back, well out of backhanding range).

“But there are too many paladins,” Keith points out. “You said it yourself.”

Lance grabs a dishtowel, twisting it menacingly in his hands. Keith tries not to think about the scar he knows Hunk has from when Lance snapped a towel at him when they were kids, wrestling in the McClains’ kitchen. He fails.

“Do you actually have any braincells left in your head at all?”

“Yes, jackass. That’s why I did the math. I leave and the numbers add back up. Problem solved.”

“You leave and Voltron falls apart,” Lance snaps. “So maybe crunch those numbers again.”

Keith stills. Lance steps towards him, still glaring, still menacing, but he doesn’t move — he holds Lance’s gaze, searching his dark eyes, looking for the words he isn’t saying. Because Keith…Keith isn’t the one holding Voltron together. There was a reason his heart caught in his throat when Lance came to him downtrodden and talked about being a seventh wheel. There’s a reason his duffel is packed, a reason he’s talked to Kolivan. He knows who needs to step aside.

“You just don’t get it,” Lance says, frustrated. He takes another step.

“You talk to us about teamwork all the time.”

Another step.

“You’re favourite thing to whine about is the bonding moment.”

Another step, this time as he pitches his voice high and mocking, flapping his hands.

“You never shut up about training as a group.”

One final step and he’s toe to toe, shoes to boots, nose to nose. Keith realises, startlingly, that they’re the exact same height, now.

“We are a crew, imbécil. Team, group, boyband. Whatever you wanna call it. All for one and one for all. The whole nine yards, all that cheesy bullshit.” He pokes Keith hard in the chest. “You don’t get to ditch.”

“But it makes more sense,” Keith argues, weakly and half-desperately. “We only have so many resources. If I can be useful at the Blades —”

“Fuck the fucking Blades.”

Keith deflates. His hand comes up to stop Lance’s jabbing finger, curling around his knuckles. Lance softens, slightly.

“I just want to be as useful as I can be.”

“And if you’re enough as you are?” Lance asks quietly.

Keith opens his mouth, but stops, automatic I’m not dying in his throat. For the first time in his life, it doesn’t seem like the truth, with the determined set to Lance’s jaw and the sliding of their fingers together, gripping tightly.

“Then I guess I’m staying,” Keith breathes.

Lance nods. “Good.”

Keith notices his hands are kind of clammy. His forehead, too, is a little sweaty. The air between them feels hot. Keith swallows.

“Your stew is on fire,” he croaks, voice rough.

Lance drops his hand, cursing.

“Oh — por amor de dios, hablas en fucking serio —”

———

At dinner, Keith eats his burnt stew without a word of complaint. When Lance drags him to the sink to help clean up, after, even though it’s not his turn, he goes, and he lingers too close and too long, and he’s grateful that the duffel he packed to leave home for good is laid emptied on his bed when he turns in for the night.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 11:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Angst. Canon violence

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

Three days had passed since the argument with Hunter that sent you storming from the Marauder with anger blazing hot in your veins. Two days since you’d left the planet, intent on putting all your focus towards the job Cid had given you.

One day had turned your anger into a suffocating heaviness of guilt and grief. Now it was something else - it felt strange and unnatural - or maybe it was just nothingness. Whatever it was, you wished the anger would come back. Anger was tangible, it gave you something to hold onto. Anger had a conviction - a purpose. Whatever it was that you felt now, slipped numbly through your fingers, floating aimlessly and as silent as the vortex of hyperspace you currently traveled through.

They didn’t come for me.

---

You had waited around Cid’s for a full rotation - unsure what for.

Did you really think they’d come looking for you?

Did they even want to?

“Give it up, kid.” Cid advised as you’d found yourself glancing over at the door for the thousandth time, “Dark and Broody ain’t coming after ya.”

You looked at her sharply. How did she know?

Cid shrugged, “Don’t look at me like that, Hotshot. I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” She smirked, “It’s the same way he looks at you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Then tell me why he hasn’t come.”

Cid threw down her washrag, looking annoyed. “You’re the idiot who ran away. He’s smart enough not to bother a woman who’s mad at him.” She scoffed, “Or he’s stupid enough not to go after the woman he obviously cares about.”

That’s when the anger came back, flashing brightly like the flame of a candle exposed to the air just before it fizzled out again. “You’re wrong. He’s not here because he doesn’t care. None of them do.” Disappointment settled like a boot on your chest.

Cid let out a bored sigh. “Then quit moping around and do something! I’ve got plenty of jobs around here and no one to do them. Might as well get paid if you’re just going to be miserable anyway.”

You looked at her quizzically then groaned. “Alright… where do you need me to go?”

---

The ship shuttered as it dropped out of hyperspace, pulling you back to the present as you came into orbit around the moon Cid’s coordinates had directed you to. You chuckled bitterly.

Well joke’s on them. I don’t need them either.

---

“Omega, come on! We need to make a supply run in town,” Hunter called down the ramp as he slung his pack over his shoulder. He frowned as she made no move to get up, though he was certain she’d heard him. He set his pack down and walked over to her. She sat on the ramp, resting her arms and chin on her knees, as she looked blankly out at the empty road.

“Omega..” he sat down beside her.

“It’s been three days, Hunter. Where is she?” Her muffled voice broke his heart. She’d been crying and he had no words to comfort her.

There had only been two times in his life that Hunter found himself with no idea what to do.

The empty numbness that dug its relentless claws through his skull screamed at him in an overwhelming self-hatred after their first real mission failure which left Wrecker clinging to life.

Failure. Coward. Pathetic.

It was the same feeling now that spread through his bones. I should’ve run after her. Now it’s too late. Mission failure once again.

The gut-wrenching flood of emotion that came with being a parent and falling in love was more unyielding than any enemy he’d faced before. It’s the one thing they didn’t train us for. At least when an enemy combatant refused to cooperate, there were many ways to get what you wanted out of them. Hunter didn’t know how to react when it was his own thoughts that refused to comply.

“I don’t know, Omega.”

“She’s coming back though, right?” She looked up at him but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

He spun his vibroblade anxiously. “I hope so.”

“Wrecker went out looking for her, you know.”

Hunter straightened in surprise, turning to look at her. “He did what?”

Omega wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sat up. “Yeah. He left this morning. He said he was gonna find her and make everything better again.”

As if on cue, Wrecker came barreling down the road, skidding to a stop just shy of the ramp panting and out of breath. Hunter stood up as Omega dashed to his side.

“What is it, Wrecker? Did you find her!? Is she okay?!” Her eyes were wide and Hunter was glad to see some of the hopeful spark return. He just hoped that whatever news Wrecker brought wouldn’t snuff it out again.

Wrecker collapsed onto the ramp. “Phew… I’m never running like that again!”

“Well?” prompted Hunter, still nervously twiring the blade through his fingers.

“Huh? Oh yeah! I found out from some scumbag that Cid sent her on a mission. Said it was real dangerous.”

“What.” Hunter tensed. Suddenly that pitiful feeling of futility was gone, replaced by something he was all too familiar with. He slid the vibroblade back into its sheath with a deadly click, mouth set in a fierce line of determination.

“Did he say anything else?” Omega asked.

Wrecker laughed. “Yeah. When I hung him upside down from the roof, he cried.” He turned towards Hunter and his smile faded into a growl. “Hunter, he said it was a suicide mission. He said nobody gets outta there alive. That’s why I ran all the way here.”

Omega gasped, “Hunter we have to go after her! She might not know it’s a trap!”

Hunter had already strapped on his pack and secured his blaster.

“Tech, Echo! Start the ship.” He called out. “I’m gonna go have a little chat with Cid.”

Loosened by the adrenaline as he ran, a sudden moment of clarity fell upon him. He’d been thinking about this all wrong.

You were not a mission in which to succeed or fail. You were a part of him - the missing link in his short mess of a life - and he would do everything it took to get you back.

The door to Cid’s Parlour opened with a slam. Cid nearly dropped the glass she was cleaning as she looked up to see Hunter striding over to her, fire in his eyes. The only two patrons in the room fled, feeling the mood of the room sour almost immediately. Cid set the cup down in obvious annoyance. “Hey! You can’t just storm on in here, scaring away my customers like that! I’ve got bills to pay here.”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he pointed a sharp finger in her direction.

“Where is she?”

Cid smirked, deciding to play coy. This could get interesting, she thought as she dried her hands, making sure to look as unbothered as she possibly could.

“Where is who? You gotta be more specific.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

She tapped a finger on her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… I really don’t think I do.”

Hunter sighed, exasperated. “I don’t have time to play your games, Cid. Tell me where you sent her.”

Cid sighed, suddenly bored of whatever ruse she’d cooked up to mess with him. “Fine.”

Hunter clenched his teeth. “I need to know, Cid. Now.”

“Cool your jets, Dark and Broody.” Cid rolled her eyes. “Your girlfriend’s fine. She asked me for a job and I gave ‘er one.”

Hunter’s face darkened. “Where. Is. She.” His white knuckled fist slammed down on the counter. “I promise you I won’t be so nice if I have to ask you again.”

Cid raised her hands in a mocked surrender. “Look, I promised her that I wouldn’t tell any of you lot where she went. She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Hunter's hands shot across the bar, vibroblade suddenly poised in a violent threat at her throat. His voice was dangerously low. “She could be in real danger. Tell me where you sent her. Now.”

Cid gulped, backing into the wall, knocking a bottle onto the ground where it shattered. She glared then raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright fine! Put the knife down and I’ll tell you!”

Hunter lowered the knife. Cid nervously rubbed her throat. “Geez… I can see why she likes you so much. I sent her to a small moon in the Sullest system. Doesn’t even have a name. Hardly anybody goes there at all.”

Hunter glared daggers.

“Relax, Dark and Broody. She’s not in any danger. It’s just a simple snatch and grab. The mines over there are full of stuff worth a ton to the right people.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Just give me the coordinates.”

Cid sighed, “Already done. Get outta here, lover boy.”

Hunter rolled his eyes as he turned to leave.

“Hey!” Cid’s voice called after him. “You owe me for that bottle. Corellian Whiskey is hard to come by these days!”

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

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[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another. 

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you. 

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol. 

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond. 

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start. 

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet. 

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar. 

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public. 

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with. 

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet. 

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened. 

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had. 

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet. 

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with. 

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you. 

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet. 

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little. 

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And�� and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it. 

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don’t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses. 

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.” 

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him. 

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend. 

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile. 

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative. 

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia. 

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out. 

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you. 

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you. 

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try. 

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want. 

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room. 

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him. 

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy. 

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body. 

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

<3

________

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[bri-cheeses]

Letters and Pens - Part 5

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 609 | Part 4 is here |

-

Barty picked up the pen, turned it over, and pushed the end down onto one of the books. A “click” filled the room, and Evan tried not to let his annoyance get the best of him. The least Barty could do was turn around and look at him, for Salazar’s sake.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Barty said. Evan couldn’t see his expression, but he was willing to bet that his eyebrows were pinched together in that specific way of his. The way he looked when he was lying.

Evan took a step closer. “Bee, look at me.”

He finally, finally turned around, albeit reluctantly. The pen was still in his hands, and he chose to focus on that instead of making eye contact with Evan. But he could settle for a compromise, Evan supposed. At least Barty was turned towards him now.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Barty mumbled, and yep, his eyebrows were pinched together. “I don’t know why you think that.”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that you’ve been refusing to be close to me today? Like, at all. It’s like you can’t stand to be within a meter-wide radius of me.”

His words came out a bit sharper than he had intended, but Barty had been acting ridiculous all day. He could handle some slight dramatics.

“Merlin, if I had known you were going to read that far into it, I wouldn’t have bothered!” Barty exclaimed.

“So you admit you’ve been doing it, then?”

Barty fell silent, his jaw working in anger.

“Barty.”

No response, except for Barty’s knuckles turning white on the pen. Evan felt his own anger flare at Barty’s stubbornness.

“Why did you do it?”

Again, nothing.

“Answer me,” Evan demanded, and that was the last straw for Barty, who took a step forward and stabbed a finger at Evan’s chest. He breathed out heavily, eyes looking a bit crazed, and Evan felt his own eyes widen in response.

“Because,” Barty began, speaking tightly, “I wanted to kiss you at the party last night, and you didn’t want to kiss me back, and I’ve been feeling so incredibly stupid all day long and I just wanted a break from it, okay?”

Evan’s mouth fell open.

“You said you didn’t remember that!”

Barty rolled his eyes at his accusatory tone.

“Well I wasn’t about to set myself up for a second rejection, now was I?” He huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “Funny, considering it’s still happening anyways.”

He made to step around Evan, but Evan shot out a hand and grabbed his wrist. Barty glanced down at the point of contact between them, then looked back up into Evan's eyes. He didn’t try to shake off his grip, which Evan took as a good sign to start talking.

“Bee… did you actually want to kiss me last night?”

Now, Barty tried tugging his wrist back.

“I figured that would’ve been obvious,” he said bitterly.

Evan tightened his hold.

“No, I mean, did you want to kiss me specifically, or were you just drunk and angry and wanting a distraction?”

Barty looked taken aback. “Is that what you thought?”

“You got a letter from your father and were moping about it the entire day,” Evan explained. “I didn’t think you particularly cared who it was you were kissing.”

Barty shook his head earnestly. “I mean, I was upset about the letter—he said some pretty nasty things, really—but that wasn’t why I wanted to kiss you. I had been thinking about it for a while, actually.”

Had Barty just—? No, it was impossible. Did he really just say what Evan thought he had?

-

(Part 6)

[hexonthepeach]

dive

pairing: f4!nct dojaejung x fem!reader (past johnny x reader mentions)

genre: hana yori dango/boys over flowers/meteor garden/f4 thailand reverse harem au (mild allusions and characterization only)

warnings: brief mentions of past bullying, dom!doyoung, hopelessromantic!jaehyun, mommykink!jungwoo, reader is a bit of a switch, smut (mmmf, double penetration, oral f & m receiving/giving, unprotected sex, anal, semi-public sex), degradation/humiliation kink (reader), pet names: baby, mommy (reader), puppy (jw)

wordcount: 10k

author's note: i wrote this as a distraction from other projects after listening to perfume on repeat and lamenting the end of promo. intended as a oneshot but i have some ideas for continuation. please let me know if you enjoy it (and more importantly, what you enjoy)

The Bangkok night is warm and thick and redolent with flowers. The expensive vacation home one of your three companions had arranged for your short stay is quietly luxurious, separated from the city bustle but still hazed with light past the high walls and thick foliage surrounding the pool. 

You'd never made a habit of asking who paid for what with your travel companions, but you guess by the mix of old world and new that it was Jaehyun's idea to stay here–perhaps even a Jeong family permanent accommodation. His family's import business had done well in the region, judging by the luxury sports cars parked in the driveway.

Everything about this trip is surreal–worse for the fact that a fourth presence lingers like a ghost in your periphery. 

He should have been here. Indeed, you've taken his place, filling the natural void like a small drop in an ocean-sized hole. 

Everything about this distraction brought you back to him: the rose petals strewn across your pristine bed, the snarling garuda statue lurking across the aquamarine oasis. 

Johnny is 8600 miles away and still very near. 

Jaehyun joins you at the pool's edge, slipping some well-concocted drink near your manicured fingers–most likely Jungwoo's contribution by the tasteful sprig of flowering basil. You'd refused multiple drinks at the club, still flagged from a day of travel and self-conscious of the eyes on your table and you’d finally agreed to one now that you were back safe in your own private enclosure.

He shucks off his sandals to dip his feet in beside yours, nudging you beneath the water to remind you that even with the grief that's hollowed you out inside, you're not alone.

Jaehyun doesn't speak–well accustomed to your need for silence when you've inevitably descended into that space again. 

Unfortunately, Doyoung isn't as accommodating. 

"What did we say about moping, Y/N?" A tall shadow stands beside you, swaying slightly. 

"I'm not moping," you say, sipping from your glass of Mekhong soothed with sugar and soda. "Just thinking."

"Wasn't the point of this vacation to get you to stop doing that?" Doyoung is touching his toe to the warm water when there's a sudden rush from behind you, a startled cry escaping the man before he hits the surface fully clothed. 

"Was he bothering you?" Jungwoo asks, looking completely unfazed about shoving the other man in.

"You bastard," Doyoung says, spluttering up and tossing his hair back as he holds his phone out of the water.

"It's waterproof."

"That's not–"

"I'll buy you a new one." 

"Now you're going to have him trying to return the favor," you say, giving him a sly smile.

"Oh I think I'll be alright," he says with a wink, backing up a few paces before cannon-balling in. If you'd been doused by Doyoung's ungraceful landing you're soaked thoroughly by the splash Jungwoo makes, finding yourself shielded by Jaehyun's torso wrapped around you. 

You hadn’t even thought to protect anything but your drink, your heart stuttering as you find yourself inches from his flushed face and rosy lips.

"You okay?" he asks, wiping water from your face with his silk sleeve. 

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Can't see the tears now, right?"

He blinks at you, believing you by the clouded expression in his dark eyes.

"I'm just kidding. Not crying, see." You smile at him as best as you can muster, hoping your carefully-applied makeup isn't running off your face. 

"Don't you want to join us?" Jungwoo has escaped Doyoung by pressing himself to your knees, shoulders well out of the water at standing level. You shake your head, suddenly shy.

"You should have let those girls come back with us," you say. "All that work wingmanning for nothing."

"Blame Doyoung for boring them talking about tariffs," Jungwoo says, ducking as the other shoves water in his direction. "Besides, we didn't want you to be alone."

"You know I don't mind, puppy." You tousle his wet hair, sipping deeply again. Through the fogged rim of your glass you catch his cheerful expression falter. It lasts only as long as he realizes Doyoung is floating on his back, swamping him with a tackle.

"I asked them to keep it just us for tonight." Jaehyun says, breaking his quiet. 

"Saving the party for Phuket!" Jungwoo shouts in the background, mispronouncing the first syllable deliberately to sound like fuck it.

"Have someone you're missing tonight, too?" Your tease lands with a thud, watching your best friend's mouth crease at the corner as he chews his lip. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude–"

"No," he says. "I know how you feel."

"How far away is Paris?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"5 hours," Jaehyun says, grinning slightly. It's a callback to so many months of watching him stare out towards the airport from the school rooftop with you, letting you listen while he mused on what she might be doing at that hour, how long it would take to get there. 

You'd encouraged him even as your heart broke–feeling the dwindling embers of a schoolgirl crush on him turn to ash. You would never be as good as his childhood love, even if you had taken up her place as his companion seated beside him on the piano bench when he practiced, or studying beside him as he drifted off into one of his many naps.

It was better this way–more comfortable just being able to be with him without the worry that you could live up to her, your heroine in highschool. But there would always be something there.

Doyoung clambers out to sit beside you, far enough away not to dampen the fuschia Versace metal mesh minidress he'd gifted you earlier. It was the perfect costume to play the part of nouveau riche jetsetter for a girl who lived one step up from a basement apartment. 

No one would mistake you for class, or even an influencer, but in their company no one was looking at you anyway. Most people thought you were Doyoung’s assistant or Jungwoo’s sister. The nasty looks, sometimes worse, always followed when they introduced you as their friend.  

"What can we do to make this a magical night?" Doyoung asks. You find yourself unable to answer, eyes caught on the smooth definition of his chest through the barely buttoned translucent shirt he'd worn out. You note he's lost the matching loose tie, probably still wrapped around a girl's neck on the dance floor.

"It's already so nice," you say, looking up at the blink of stars through the light pollution. "Thank you for including me." 

"You think we'd leave you behind?" 

The way he says you carries all sorts of strange subtext, considering your history. It had been a long journey from being mercilessly bullied and shoved into the dirt you came from, as Johnny had called it, to here. The lap of luxury, attended to by three specimens of wealth and privilege so out of your league you may as well be batting a thousand.

"Well it’s not like I got you in the divorce," you say, knot twisting in your chest. "I guess even now it’s hard to tell if you’re just being nice to me because you feel bad for me."

"First of all, he left all of us," Doyoung corrects. His voice is a little raspy, as if he's controlling his emotions. The admission leaves you questioning. You knew how close they were but they'd never shown any sign of being affected by Johnny's sudden departure.

Maybe you'd just been too busy wallowing to notice. 

“Second, you’re special. Too special to let just anyone play with. If you hadn’t noticed, we enjoy your company.”

"And when have we ever done something nice?" Jungwoo rests his arms on your knees, almost pulling you into the water. Jaehyun pushes him back with his foot, earning a tug on his leg that does little to move his immovable weight. 

"You're a package deal, though. Like a blend," you raise your mostly empty glass to drive your horrible attempt at a metaphor to death. “Even with one ingredient missing you can’t beat the original.”

“Well I won’t deny you're a strange substitute,” Doyoung says, gracefully using your words to make his point. It reminds you of how he’d spent hours drilling you with details of tea ceremony when your ridiculous coworker had asked for a demonstration of his family’s heritage business. 

“But taste requires innovation, and it’s often the unexpected addition that changes the entire flavor profile. You’re new but you’re refreshing, and unique. Not something to be discarded because anyone demands it.”

“That’s a very poetic way of saying you still like me even if I’m an uncultured pain in the ass.”

"Poor little weed," Jungwoo says, hands splaying over your bare thighs before Jaehyun can foist him off again. “Are you insulting Doyoung’s taste? You're the first girl any of us have agreed on."

"I doubt that considering what I saw last Friday. Did all of you sleep in Doyoung's room or did you take turns–"

You catch Jungwoo's scheming look with Jaehyun right before the cocktail glass is plucked from your hand and you're picked up on both sides, Jaehyun lifting you by the waist and Jungwoo taking over once you're free of the edge.

"Let me go," you shriek, folding over his shoulder. 

"Are you sure?" Jungwoo bends his knees until your hem is submerged, not phased as you beat on his back with soft hits.

"At least toss me in so you can get a head start," you threaten. He indulges you, lifting you up out of the water like he's going to help you recreate that pivotal scene from Dirty Dancing only to throw you back and into the deep end. 

You hold yourself in a ball and sink, breath held, channeling your best hello darkness my old friend as you wait for the inevitable. It takes less than ten seconds before Jaehyun dives in after you, pulling you up.

“Got you,” you say, grinning through the trickles of warm water. Jaehyun looks less than amused, lips thinning into a tight line as water drips from his bleached blond hair.

"Don't scare us like that," Doyoung gripes, joining you a few seconds too late. You shoot him and Jungwoo a look over your perch on Jaehyun's arm, clinging to him for comfort.

“Yeah, please.” Jaehyun breathes. 

"Is my makeup coming off?" you ask. He's been staring at you funnily as you float beside him, bodies brushed up in the expansion of his clothing and the occasional contact with his frame.

"What?" Your best friend sounds dazed, water collecting in his dimples as he smiles softly.

"What?" You parrot, teasing, mirroring him in the way your eyes dart to his mouth, not surprised to find his lip trembling. His uplit face is shadowed with hidden feelings you can only guess at. 

That years-old urge to kiss him returns. It could be considered revenge for back when he'd grabbed you and given you a taste of what it would be like that day after he’d come back from his trip abroad. You'd melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, the illusion only broken when Johnny had slammed the rooftop door shut on the way back down, flowers for whatever apology he'd half-assed scattered across the dirty tar paper.

You'd slapped him afterwards, surprised to find him smiling. He's in love with you, isn't he? Had to be sure.

There'd been so many times after that he'd played with your feelings you'd lost count, but one constant remained: he would never pursue you fully if he believed it would hurt his best friend.

Your chest feels tight just imagining what might have been, had you changed course back then. But you've long given up dwelling on might have beens.

Jaehyun is less mercurial now that he's older so you’re the one to catch him by surprise, lips pressing to his cheek right beside his mouth–in the smile lines you know too well. It's a quick send-off before Jungwoo can grab his legs and pull him under from below. 

Doyoung takes the opportunity to capture you by the waist, keeping you from becoming a casualty of their underwater fight. He looks just as serious as always, even without his usual glasses.

"Sorry about the dress," you say, working to stay afloat.

He laughs at you, prone to condescension as always. "If you like it we can get you another. But do you really want to wear the same thing twice?"

"Some of us can't replace our wardrobe every week," you huff. 

"Are you under the impression I'm replacing a bespoke suit collection every week? All I'm saying is you should have a new dress for every occasion. Especially if you're with us."

You jab him in the side, surprised at the hardness of his ribs but also delighted by his startled wheeze. 

"I'm not your kept woman."

"Not even if we want to keep you to ourselves?" 

A little shiver runs through you, making eye contact with him as he mouths the waterline. It's said so innocently but you know better. He and Woo had been dropping double entendres since well before takeoff from Seoul.

Flirting was Jungwoo's thing, a silver lining to the dark shadow of a personality that enjoyed being subtly in control. As the future heir to a crime syndicate it was much better than experiencing his hidden anger. Doyoung though . . . as much as he dabbled in shadier scenes and pretended to be a womanizer he's old-old-old money, from a strata inaccessible to anyone who's genealogy can't be traced back to the Goryeo dynasty. 

The idea of him folding you into his life, much less keeping you, is absurd.

“Well that does seem to go against the whole idea of this being a trip to finally get over . . . everything,” you say, deflecting from his intensity. “What happened to letting me live like the F4 for one week?”

“Is this not it?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“What if I want you to play wingman for me? Find me something meaningless to distract me?”

You're not expecting the dark storm that settles over his refined features.

“I think you have enough distractions here to keep you occupied.”

Your pulse picks up, hearing the hidden message loud and clear. He'd heard your laments to Jungwoo about how long it had been since you even thought about being with someone else, how you'd never really gotten to date after three brutal years of school, work, and accidentally making the worst chaebol tyrant in Seoul fall for you. 

Now that you're free for the first time in your adult life, you want to experience what it's like to be just another girl, like the ones they so frequently invited to their tables at function and club alike.

"Are you insinuating you're not going to let me bring anyone back if I find a fling? After I just spent all night singing your praises to a healthy pool of candidates? Double standard, much?"

Doyoung wraps an arm around you to keep your head from knocking against the tiled pool edge. He's backed you into it without you even noticing it. 

"You can try," he says, gripping the wall next to your cheek. "Though I would question the sanity and intelligence of anyone who took you up on it." 

There's his brand of cruelty: casual threats delivered without a hint of remorse. You'd been on the receiving end, perhaps were now, but you're not afraid of him in the slightest.

"You're not reporting all of this to him, are you?" 

Doyoung doesn't answer, nostrils flaring. 

"Or is he only texting 'Woo back?" you ask. 

"Who texted me?" Jungwoo asks with open curiosity behind him. 

Doyoung presses a single finger to your lips in warning, releasing you. 

"Didn't you get the number of that model? Miss Thailand 2016 runner-up?" You toss your head slightly to clear it, still feeling heat suffuse your cheeks from just a touch against your mouth. It really had been too long. 

"Oh she's too good for me," Jungwoo remarks, jokingly. "Besides, I already have a failed beauty queen right here." 

You snort. “In what world is second place a failure when it’s your first time?”

The contest had just been a university charity project but you'd worked hard to earn that spot after Johnny had entered you in as some kind of sick game from abroad. Jungwoo had helped you conquer it–had even got you a side gig modeling when his usual partner had dropped out at the last minute at one of his shoots. You’d just been there to deliver coffee and now you were on a cover being printed in 15 different countries. 

You always liked reminding Jungwoo of his Pygmalion moment because that's when you'd genuinely seen his kinder side–even if you suspected he may have threatened at least two of the judges to land you on the final stage. Losing had been worth it to spend time with the member of the F4 you’d never been close to in high school. 

"Maybe she doesn't deserve you," you say, swimming around him to grab him loosely around the shoulders. “Not many can appreciate having a personal rescue dog to save them from getting wrinkly fingers.”

You're immediately indulged, Jungwoo paddling you back to the shallow end where Jaehyun is lost in thought, staring at white blossoms from one of the trees in the courtyard floating in front of him. Doyoung is just as contemplative. 

It’s probably best to not let it stretch out any longer–you were always a fan of ripping the bandage off quickly even if it hurt. 

"I'm going to go take a shower and call it a night." You announce, hearing Jungwoo groan. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Jungwoo perks. Jaehyun squints up at you where you stand over him. You look at Doyoung instead, as he drags himself out of the water to sit on the ledge beside the stairs.

"Unless you tell me what we really are."

The buzz of cicadas seems to die a little, soft music inside the house drifting out through the glass. 

"Friends, hopefully?" Jungwoo says.

"Well you aren't bullying me anymore, so yes. But friends don't keep their friends from moving on from past relationships."

"That's not at all—" Doyoung begins.

"Let me finish," you interrupt. He's immediately quiet, throat bobbing as he looks beside you at Jaehyun's taut shoulders.

"I'll never fit in with you or your world but we both stopped judging each other for that a long time ago, I think. I like spending time with you, I like knowing you'll still include me even if . . . " You can't bring yourself to say Johnny's name. "Even if I'm just another ghost who's outstayed her welcome."

It was their term for dropped flings and casual encounters, with a whole subset of terminology for the ones who couldn't get the hint (poltergeist), or lost their cool at their dismissal by screaming and crying (banshees). 

It hadn't been like that for you even the second or fifth time Johnny had broken up with you–always for reasons out of your control. You'd shown him the same aggression and cruelty in answer, but you’d never begged for him to take you back, ever, and you certainly had never sought out his friends. 

It had always been their prerogative to spend time with you, and you’d leaned into it your freshman year of university study and singlehood, wanting the support network denied you by being alone and poor in a city you could barely afford. You’d never take their money but you had accepted their company, and had enjoyed it far more than you could have imagined. 

Even if it kept you in Johnny Suh’s outer orbit, what you had with them meant something to you. You didn’t want to lose it when he came back. From the press releases about his recent promotion, it would seem to be soon.

Waiting for that inevitability is like attending your own funeral before you’re dead, pallbearers for company. 

"You're not a ghost," Jaehyun says. "And we won't abandon you, ever."

"You'll just keep me and this dynamic trapped in amber until Johnny changes his mind, then? It's been a year already. I don't want to lose any more of my youth to him, and I don't want to lose you when he comes back and you all act like he's done nothing wrong."

"That won't happen," Doyoung says, sighing. 

"No, because I'll leave before then." You get out of the water, brushing your face free of the hot tears. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

Jaehyun pulls you back, strong enough you lose your footing and sink into his submerged lap. 

"You're not going anywhere," he says. There's no malice or anger in his tone, just quiet assurance. He cleans your face again, blue silk cuff coming away black with mascara. 

"You asked what we are. Remember when you used to come sit next to me under that stupid ad?" 

"Yeah?" you sniff. You'd spent hours with him sitting on a city bench as he stared up at a billboard for luxury clothing with her face on it. She’d been the dream he chased at your urging, the fantasy that had sadly broken with proximity.

"When I was in France, after things became clear, I would go and sit somewhere and pretend like you were there with me."

"I hope it was somewhere fun, like the Louvre," you joke. 

"Too crowded." He shakes his head, smirking. "Would look weird talking to myself."

"Oh you talked to invisible me but you couldn't pick up the phone once?"

He shakes his head again, squeezing you. 

"Anyway. The point is you're stuck with me. And them."

"And Johnny . . .?" 

"Stop bringing up our ex," Doyoung says. Not your ex, our ex. 

"It's a valid concern," you say, adjusting in Jaehyun's hold to rest your head against his damp shoulder. "I'm not going back to him. And I know you'll choose him over anyone else."

"No," Jaehyun says. 

"You're the exception." 

You lift your head to blink up at Doyoung.

"Didn't think you made those."

"Well you just haven't spent enough time with me, then."

"You planning on spending time with me?" You smile lazily, hand drifting to squeeze his leg. It's always fun to see his unflappable face twitch.

"He already blocked off half his itinerary for private tours. Jaehyun had to fight him to split it equally," Jungwoo says. Doyoung splashes water into his face with his foot.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says sourly. 

"Like the massage tomorrow morning?" 

This time Doyoung's kick makes waves wash over you and Jaehyun, leaving you spluttering.

Jungwoo takes it, smiling once his floppy brown hair is pushed back out of his eyes again. He grins at you from the water. "You'll take your dog for a walk when you remember I exist, right?" 

"Why not just come with us?" You'd often wondered if there was an invisible tether for how often they appeared together.

Doyoung clears his throat, Jaehyun shifting uncomfortably under you. 

"What am I missing?" You laugh awkwardly, looking between them. 

"I forget the only man you've ever dated never dated anyone seriously, either." Doyoung looks somewhat pleased with himself. "Traditionally when you spend time with someone you're interested in you don't have company–"

Shock runs through you like ice dumped over your head. "You can't be serious."

Doyoung's face is incredibly serious, Jaehyun's proving only a little more relaxed about the disclosure. You turn around to Jungwoo, floating nearby with a humored expression. 

"You're not part of this are you, 'Woo?"

"Of course I am. You deserve a break from stuffy museums and romantic dinners to have some real fun."

His eyebrows lower a bit in some sinister joke, and for the first time a little fear courses through you. It's been a long time since you saw their manipulative and controlling side, but bringing you to a foreign country to date you, their best friend’s ex, without telling you . . . That's a whole new level of it.

"This isn't a competition, is it?" You hide the tremor in your voice. 

"Between us? Of course it is," Jungwoo says.

"And the terms?" You look at Jaehyun, who is unable to meet your gaze. "Let me guess, whoever fucks me first?" 

His eyes widen in genuine dismay, panicking. "No, of course not–we just wanted to give you a chance to decide if . . ."

"If what?" 

"If you liked one of us more than the others," Doyoung finishes for him. 

You find yourself breathing heavily, face flushed. 

"What if I can't choose?" You ask, gaze fixing on Jaehyun's mouth as he bites his lip, still looking guilty. 

"If you decide you don't want to be with any of us, then things stay the same. Nothing changes. We'll still be friends." He says it all slowly, deliberately, almost as if it’s rehearsed.

"And if I choose one of you? Do I get to suffer the jealousy complex of another deeply insecure and emotionally unavailable man?"

That hits them where it counts. They'd all watched Johnny take out his fears on you, masked under bravado, posturing for an audience that more often than not was just you and his friends. His peers had rarely done the same, unless you counted Jungwoo following his enforcement orders like a loyal hound or Doyoung orchestrating clean-ups. 

No, they'd skated clean through multiple horrorshows by simply being there to throw their weight. No one else had the notoriety and resources to cover up the trail of damage left in Suh's wake.

You stand up again, turning between them. "And none of you are worried about Johnny finding out?"

A lump forms in your throat, bitterness about even having to invoke your own personal demon. Yes he'd walked away, but you knew his sense of entitlement would never allow his interests to be compromised by another–especially his closest companions.

And here they are, looking between each other and discussing your fate with the deliberate calm of a business transaction.

Apparently the only consequences were for you.

"Or is that the real game you're playing here," you ask. "Degrade me so far in his eyes he'll want nothing to do with me while you write me off as disloyal trash."

Jaehyun sucks his breath in through his teeth, and you note how hurt he looks. Jungwoo seems even more upset, full bottom lip jutting out.

"I know what you've been through, and I know it will be a long time to forget," Doyoung says. "But we're not him."

You remember an old saying your father had taught you: when you're holding a hammer everything looks like a nail. Better applied to problem-solving perhaps, but you'd also been dealing with one, giant nail-shaped problem since he'd crashed into your life. It was stuck in your heart and time and healing hadn't removed it. Maybe it was permanent, but you still had to live with it. 

"I just don't understand how you think you think this will work."

"You're awfully concerned about what he thinks," Jungwoo says, rising over you. "What about moving on?" 

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks. I'm just looking out for you. You know he'll punch first and ask questions later. What if he does something reckless?"

Jungwoo is laughing at you through closed lips, eyes crescented in mirth. "We have you to protect us, right? Just roundhouse kick him in the face again."

“That was lucky,” you say. “He wasn’t trying to murder me, either. There’s probably an American hitman on his way right now to take us all out and make it look like an accident.” 

“He would definitely hire locally,” Jungwoo corrects you. 

“And here I thought you were braver than that,” Doyoung muses. “Do you think we need his permission? You certainly don't.”

That makes you pause. You look at Jaehyun. Of all the people in the world he was the closest to their former leader. They’d fought even more than he and you had, and Jaehyun had always conceded, taking it on the chin, letting Johnny drag him along in his wake. The one time he'd stood up to him had been for you and it had almost fractured everything irreparably.

His black eyes pierce into you when he looks up. 

“I think y/n can make any decision she wants to,” he says dangerously. “None of us will stand in your way, whatever you choose.” 

“You promise?” you ask, tilting your head to let your wet hair brush over your bare shoulder. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Jungwoo says. 

You wait for the others to show visual signs of concession: Jaehyun nodding, Doyoung making the sign of the cross in what is an obvious misuse of the gesture. 

“Good. Because if Johnny finds out what I’m doing on this trip, he’s not the only one who will kill you.”

"I think we should start enacting a punishment whenever she brings him up again," Doyoung says.

"Great idea," Jungwoo says, sweeping you into his wet hold from behind. The chill you'd been feeling exposed to the air dissipates a little, his warm chest against your bare shoulders. You shiver a little at the intimacy, feeling him laugh even if he doesn’t make a sound.

“What will it be?” Doyoung defers to Jaehyun.

He leans back . “She does something to distract herself.”

You purse your lips together, affecting an air of deep thought. "My choice?"

"Always," he says, not breaking eye contact. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, then." You nod at him. He grins, Doyoung groans. Jungwoo's long arms wrap around your waist, hands already in position. 

"Surely there's a better way we could eliminate your options," Doyoung says, almost missing the cue and throwing paper to the other two's scissors. 

"Better luck next time," you tease.

"Kiss it for luck." The back of Jungwoo's hand presses to your mouth moments before Jaehyun initiates. 

Jungwoo loses the second quick round after a draw, crushed by Jaehyun's rock. 

"I should have known you were cursed." Jungwoo pouts, not letting you free until you've ducked back into the water to escape him. You give him a wink as you swim towards the stairs, emerging between Jaehyun's spread legs before he can close them. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, warily, still leaned back against the last stair.

"What I want," you say, blinking drops from your lashes. You move weightlessly on to his thighs, grabbing his soft face in your hands. He's unable to process what's happening quickly enough to respond as you tilt his face up and press a gentle kiss to his parted mouth. 

You ignore Jungwoo's wolf-whistle in the background, partially aware Doyoung has shifted nearby the moment you'd slid into your friend's lap. All that is noise as the gentle sound of the water feature drowns the startled sound you make when you're grabbed and pulled back to Jaehyun's mouth. 

This time it's real: solid and delicious as he crushes against you, tongue sliding across the seam of your lips until you let go of your held breath to softly exhale into his. Small dips of his chin coax you into opening for him, your hands threading into his hair to anticipate his movements as he kisses you like it's the last time in his life he'll ever get the chance. 

"That's enough," Doyoung says, Jungwoo booing him. 

The other two may as well not exist, your thumbs circling Jaehyun's cheekbones as you retreat to inspect the damage. He's usually so composed it feels like peering into a different universe's version of him, rapture and satisfaction warring with concern in his expression. 

"Thank you," you whisper. His eyes focus again, teeth exposed as he tongues them. 

"Any time," he says. It's funny how instantly he regrets the word choice, the pink in his ears and cheeks deepening.

"Not thinking about you-know-who now, are you?" Jungwoo asks, right behind you. 

"No," you say. "But I suspect you wish I'd say yes if only for the consequences."

"That was hot," he admits. "But I don't typically like my prospects thinking about other men." 

"Can I tell you a secret?" You crook your finger, clutching on to Jungwoo's wet patterned shirt when he leans down far enough to be in range. 

"I only made you play for it so we could find out who goes first." You say it in his ear, letting your mouth drag against the shell.

He pulls back, hesitant, nose brushing against your cheek. 

"Really?" 

"Kiss me and find out," you offer. 

He doesn't wait, lashes against his cheeks as he meets you halfway, tilting your head to the side for full exploration of your lips. He's much gentler than you expected, shy almost, tender even when your tongue meets his and you can taste the hint of sticky mango rice you'd had for dessert earlier. 

"Good boy," you say once you've broken free. He smiles in the way you're used to the most, right side of his face crooking with an edge of deviousness.

You turn to find Jaehyun watching, eyes starry with arousal but unreadable. Doyoung is on his feet as if he's preparing his exit, expression stony. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, meeting his calculating stare.

Doyoung opens and shuts his mouth, water pooling at his feet. 

"Not enough punishment for you?" There's an edge to your voice that you recognize as the tone you'd used many times before, in your idiotic quest to tame one of his own. 

The tension breaks when Doyoung laughs softly, crouching down and crooking his finger. You wade up the steps to meet him, hyper aware of the drag of eyes on you as you emerge from the water, dress clinging to your skin. 

"I planned out such a nice trip for you, and this is what you really want?" Doyoung asks, eyes traveling down your body and back to your face in the kind of assessment that you'd seen other people wither under. 

"Why do you think I agreed to come?"

“Noted.”

He nods, slightly, but makes no move to take what you'd already given the others. You don't let it dissuade you, fingers digging into the hard line of his shoulders to press your lips to his. 

It's like kissing a statue. A challenge you're willing to meet as you delve further, rocking him back on his heels. You pry open his mouth with gentle bites and licks between each kiss, past his perfect teeth until you can explore his tongue with your own. You don't realize your hands are fisted in his wet hair until you're done, finding him collapsed on the wet cement, panting. 

"Was that sufficient punishment?" you ask.

"For you? Absolutely not," Doyoung says, the rare full smile gracing his kiss-swollen mouth. "For them? Yes."

You glance back at your other two companions, clocking that they're both nearer than you remembered. Jaehyun's hand drifts over your hip, as if he's questioning letting you go in the first place. 

"Should we set some rules? Or are you all going to take them as an excuse to break them?"

Jungwoo chuckles. 

"No competition. Equal time, equal attention. And no possessiveness," you state. Doyoung looks up from under his brows with amusement, clearly enjoying your groundless attempt to set boundaries. 

"I don't care what you throw at me as long as you don't walk back what you said about our friendship."

"I think we're something different now," Jaehyun says, voice cracking.

"I know," you say. You run a hand over his head, feeling his temple come to rest against your waist. "But you crossed that line first. I'm just saving you the trouble of playing some silly game to come on to me. I'm not a prize to win. I'm a person who knows you all better than you think."

You turn to Doyoung again, holding your ground. "You said you'd give me the true F4 experience."

"Within reason," he demures. 

"Then lose your hangups and let me have a taste of what it's like to be just one of those girls you have no problem with having fun with. No special treatment, no regrets."

The stunned silence has you feeling a twinge of embarrassment at pushing your agenda this far.

"Impossible," Jungwoo answers. 

"Why not?"

He pulls the hair away from your neck to kiss beneath your ear. Gooseflesh appears on your arms even in the warm air, anticipating his answer, but he's too occupied with trailing his mouth down, sucking lightly over your pulse. You feel dizzy, hand reaching back to hold his head to you.

Once he's had enough of watching you unravel Doyoung jerks you forward, grip tight around your wrist.

It's a familiar gesture, a reminder you are at their mercy. He cuffs his hand around your neck like he's going in for another kiss, stopping at a few inches. 

"You don't get to set all the rules. This one especially. You are not just some girl with whom we engage in forgettable, inconsequential relations."

He pauses, eyes darting to your mouth before meeting yours again. "If we go down this path you're getting the real thing. All of it."

"We know you have experience." Jungwoo adds. 

Oh you knew. They fucked around but they were careful about it, always gentlemen, always above board. NDAs in some cases, mostly for Doyoung. You didn’t know all of their specific proclivities outside of Jungwoo exclusively chasing women a generation older but you suspected whatever they enjoyed was much less wholesome. 

Like Johnny's needs once he'd finally had you. He'd bent that way and much, much more. The difference was he'd never been as precious with you as they were with their little conquests.

If they didn't want the safety of a legal cushion it didn't mean they didn't need it–they just didn't think it would be a problem.

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of things about me," you say. A whisper of rage underlies the words, colored by so many rumors foisted on you well before you'd ever accepted their company–even more when they had. 

Whore. Cockslut. Used goods.

Johnny had always been a contradiction–surprisingly prudish about sex but quick to use the grossest allusions to it when pressed for details by his friends, liberal in his name calling. They'd known him since childhood–they didn't believe him, even if everyone else had taken his words as gospel. You'd had your revenge by proving just how true those words could be in private.

"We don't know anything you don't," Jaehyun says, quickly. 

"Still, I don't think you know what you're signing up for," you say. "If anyone is using anyone in this arrangement, it's going to be me. Or I'm out."

"You worried we can't show you a good time?" Jungwoo asks. It's a funny question with him pressed into your back like he'll push your head down into the water if you answer incorrectly.

"I'm worried you'll chicken out," you say, grabbing Doyoung's wrist to keep his fingers on you, covering them with yours to increase the tension. You'd always been strong.

Doyoung's expression is matched by his lingering hold on your throat, squeezing a little and making your eyes drift shut in pleasure.

"You always did seem to enjoy the humiliation a little more than our other targets. Can't say it wasn't an encouraging factor. You like it, don't you?"

He lets you go with a slight push, registering the way your eyes haze over with reflected lust.

"Yeah. Blame a few formative years of getting my signals crossed. Just part of the damage." There's no shame in your voice, another casualty of their efforts.

"You're not damaged," Jaehyun remarks.

"Not beyond repair," you agree, gaze burning into Doyoung's. His regard is a thousand times more revealing than a kiss, most especially the tic in his cheek every time Jungwoo decides to leave a mark with his tongue and teeth on your throat and you reward him with a moan.

"Should be fun seeing which one of us can push past your comfort zone, then," Jungwoo says, breath cooling the last bruise he's left on the back of your neck. "Find out if you have one."

"You're not dropping the competition?" 

Nervous anticipation gives you butterflies, different than the ones springing up being teased by the three of them. Not one of them accepted being outclassed.

"No." Jaehyun says it well before the others. His hands drop to your legs to hold you steady as Jungwoo continues his assault on your neck. "But equal opportunity. I think we can all agree on that."

"Don't worry, we'll play fair," Jungwoo says, biting your shoulder. You jerk in his grasp, vaguely aware of fingers at your hem. Doyoung continues to watch, tongue darting over his lips.

"I hope not," you say. "I won't."

It's all the permission your captors need.

Your breath stutters as Jaehyun's hand slides up your inner thigh, circling the wet skin absent-mindedly. You whine a little, teased by the first intimate touch you've had in months.

"You better stay quiet. We do have neighbors," Doyoung says, voice pitched low.

"Think you can shut me up?"

He takes the hint, sliding his legs back over the ledge, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt to expose his creamy skin. You spread your fingers over his firm abdomen, flicking aside the sheer fabric. He's intoxicatingly sensitive, muscles tensing as you follow the path of water down his long waist.

"You sure you want to play this game?" Doyoung asks, hand resting on your shaking fingers as you struggle to unbutton his damp jeans.

You look down at Jaehyun, smiling at him when you find he's still enraptured by your upper thighs. You wait until he looks back up, head cocked for permission.

"You alright with sharing me, tonight?"

Miles are crossed, bridges are burned as he contemplates the ask, returning to his shy efforts at warming your naked skin, lifting your hem to dangerous territory.

"Wouldn't dare stand in your way."

Jaehyun's approval is the best thing you've seen in a long time, even more so when he adjusts to be eye level with your now exposed underwear, back pressed to Doyoung's leg. 

Jungwoo tugs at the strap of your dress playfully. 

"Can puppy wait his turn?" you ask, looking up at your other torturer. 

Jungwoo kisses you over your shoulder, messily, before casually breaking one of the thin straps of your dress where it's attached to the delicate gold cherub adornment. The night air pebbles your skin, exposed nipple hardening more as he trails a fingertip lazily around it.

"As long as you need." 

He angles you down a bit towards the other man, just as Jaehyun's mouth finds you through the thin fabric of your lingerie–hot and perfect. Your knees are already weak and you have to catch yourself on Doyoung's thighs as you're touched and kissed and licked, still partially submerged and torn between warm and warmer.

There's a bit of menace in Doyoung's face, watching you unzip and find his length. He adjusts a little when you tug down the elastic waistband of his underwear, his cock already mostly erect despite the water. He's not as big as Johnny but perfectly sized, long and veined as he hardens in your hand. 

You experiment with laves of your tongue against his flushed head, watching him for a reaction through your lashes.

"Sucking me off before I can even take you on a proper date." He tsks, the sound changing when you lower your head, tongue folding around his tip to devour him whole. 

"You look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says. "Wish I could take a picture–"

You cut him short by taking him deeper, feeling him press at the back of your mouth. It's been awhile since you tested your gag reflex.

Thankfully Jaehyun has compromised on watching you while pushing your underwear into your sticky folds, Jungwoo playing with your breasts in the most maddening way possible with soft flicks and tugs. 

Both of them are sending you skyrocketing to a level of joy yet unexperienced this lifetime, much less this year. You have to concentrate on Doyoung to keep from falling apart too quickly.

Jungwoo's long fingers help clear your hair from your face so you can breathe, giving them all a better view as you choke, letting drool slip from your mouth as you take it deep and hard. 

The noises coming from your throat are nowhere near as obscene as the sounds Doyoung makes, angled back and thrusting weakly with each moan. You always thought his voice was beautiful, scratchy and breathy, but hearing him say your name in between gasps has your entire body enflamed. 

"Fuck, you're good," Doyoung says quietly, angled back on his elbows. 

Jungwoo holds your damp hair back, wrapping it in his fist to help guide you more gently. You relax your throat and take it, tears leaking from your eyes. If touch had you vibrating before, the sensation of being debased in this way has you dripping, your arousal exposed by Jaehyun's fingers slipping your panties down to the water.

"She's soaked," he says, running a single finger through your folds. You answer with a groan, other hand in his hair to hold him back before he can dip in again.

Jungwoo tests you, too, giving you a few swipes to collect your slick. He brings his fingertips to your mouth when you finally take a breath, letting you clean them.

It's delightful how Doyoung is unraveling already, arched back, eyes glassy. He drinks in the sight of you sucking two of Jungwoo's fingers until your cheeks hollow.

"You think you can finish what you started?" you ask.

"I don't think I'll ever want it to end," he admits.

"How about coming on my tongue?" You ask, pumping him slowly. You chase the taste of yourself with kitten licks of the beads of white on his head, going lower to trace his veins. 

"Only if you want to swallow everyone tonight," Doyoung says. The offer is tempting. You hesitate long enough that he reads you like an open book, adding an edge of threat. "Or do you want to be stuffed like the little whore you are?"

The affectation has you seizing up in long-withheld gratification. Jungwoo grinds against your ass as Jaehyun ignores your hold to finally lick long paths up your inner thighs, chasing trails of slippery arousal and water to dive in, fingers spreading your legs wide.

It's impossible to find a retort, sinking back into Jungwoo's embrace as you're attacked from below.

"I think you should only fuck me if you can make me come," you counter. "And it's still Jaehyun's turn–"

Your words are punctuated by a cry, Jungwoo's hand clapped over your mouth as Jaehyun pumps into you with two fingers, hooking into your g-spot.

"Ooh," Jungwoo says over your head. "Guess you'll have to wait." 

Doyoung sighs, taking over with his hand when you're bodily dragged back, Jungwoo lifting your dress to take it off. 

"Leave it on," Doyoung says. "The ravaged look suits her." 

You shoot him a look, unable to maintain your expression when Jaehyun's mouth works likes he's devouring you in turn, teeth scraping as he explores every inch of you, teasing your clit with darts of his tongue. Jungwoo frees your mouth to let you breathe, babbled words of praise spilling from you in between small cries.

"So good, so right, god, fuck–fuck." You're inarticulate as Jaehyun pumps his fingers slowly, spreading you and pressing right below his languid tongueing. Jungwoo's attention returns to your sensitive breasts, gently twisting each bud between his fingertips. 

"Keep it down," Doyoung warns, but it's impossible. 

Electric tingles spread down to your toes, tipped against the smooth pool floor. You let yourself relax in Jungwoo's hold, curling over your lover's head. Jaehyun is incredibly careful with you even as you're brought deeper, water lapping at his collarbones as he holds you spread and licks you in broad swaths. 

"Need a hand?" Jungwoo asks, somehow catching Jaehyun's nod mid-effort. You're unmoored by the hand that slips in from behind, fingers curling into you shallowly, water lapping your immersed buttocks. Jaehyun gives up control but he's still also buried in you, drawing wetness out of you with each stroke of his fingers.

Jungwoo matches his speed, knuckle to knuckle, as Jaehyun moves up to apply pressure to your clit again. 

"You two can get her ready. I want her after she's been used," Jungwoo says. 

"Of course you do," Doyoung says, dropping back in the water, demanding your attention. You indulge him with your hand, pumping him loosely beneath the surface. It's hard to coordinate as Jungwoo's hand fucks you into the pressure of Jaehyun's grip tight on your upper thighs, each circle of his tongue on your clit making your vision shimmer. 

"She's so close. Bet we can make her squirt." 

"No," you say, automatically self-conscious. 

"Did you hear that? She thinks she has a choice." The heel of Jungwoo's palm smacks wetly against your ass as he finger-fucks you, already too much before Jaehyun seems to pull you towards him, pressing hard into your walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, completely at their mercy as Jaehyun applies suction to your clit to bring you to the brink. 

"Come for us," Doyoung says. He's pressed to your side, rutting against your waist while taking your mouth to keep the shriek building inside your throat muffled.

There's no controlling the powerful waves tearing through your core, your legs shaking and buckling as the orgasm begins and doesn't seem to end, torn from you between all three of them. A hot gush of liquid coats your thighs as you throb around their fingers, pleasure morphing into pain until you're begging for them to stop. 

Jaehyun is the first to let you go, rising to share your release with a crushing kiss that takes your breath away, Jungwoo's fingers still reaching deep inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwoo says. "Was that your first time?"

You nod, cheeks hot, forehead pressed to Jaehyun's. You cling to him, still not quite down to earth from your climax. 

"Thank you," Jaehyun says, laughing slightly. "Was that too intense?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just hold me, please."

"Forever," he says, lifting you to straddle his hips. He manages the stairs to collapse on the deck, wrapping you tight in his arms as you kiss him deeply, cleaning his face of your release with gentle swipes of your fingers.

"You sure you don't want to go inside?" he asks, when you begin to unwrap him from his shirt. 

"I need you so much," you say. "I can't wait another moment."

He grins, shyly, kissing you as you help him out of his undershirt to reveal his swimmer's frame, triangular torso buckling into visible abdominal muscles. He's breath-taking, even more beautiful when you help him out of his pants and underwear to find his thighs flexed beneath his hard cock, shorter but thicker and so perfectly full and ready for you to sink down on. 

He doesn't question taking you raw–brow furrowing in concentration as you adjust to his girth slowly.

"We'll do this without an audience soon," you whisper, hoping he can still hear you as he bottoms out in your heat and his eyes flutter shut. 

"Yeah," he says, breathily. He's not moving, soaking in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him. "I couldn't wait, either. You feel just as perfect as I imagined."

"So good," you assure him, moving for him. The lingering effects of coming harder than you think you ever have in your life aren't stopping you from bearing down on him, taking him harder and deeper with his wide shoulders for leverage. 

"Fuck, baby," Jaehyun growls. "I'm not gonna last like this."

He takes control with a firm grasp on your waist, pumping up into you. Soon he's bouncing you mercilessly into his hips, laid back on his wet clothes.

You haven't forgotten about the other two men, not when Doyoung's kneeled behind you, straddling Jaehyun's legs to stroke himself against the swell of your ass. 

Jungwoo grabs your hand to wrap around his own exposed cock, letting you feel him before you can even take in the sight of him bobbing over your head. Your finger and thumb can barely connect around his shaft, length too much to fit half of it in your mouth before you know it will be in your throat. Now you understand why the screams you'd heard from his room always sounded on the borderline of pain. 

"Too much for you?" He asks, angling the velvety soft head to catch on your open lips. Jaehyun slows down his thrusts to let you ease into taking the other man, pumping Jungwoo's base as best as you can as you sloppily accept the suffocation.

"Must have had a lot of practice getting your throat fucked to take me so well," he says, angling your head to move past the back of your tongue. You can't answer so you squeeze his balls instead, applying just enough pressure with your nails to have him groaning in appreciation. 

You lose your rhythm when you feel spit drip down your back, Doyoung collecting your earlier release from your thighs and mixing it with his saliva to rub his fingers against your puckered hole.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for all of us?" he asks, pressing a digit into the ring of muscle, causing you to choke on the heavy weight in your mouth.  

Jungwoo pulls out, saliva trailing from your lips as he gives you a break to adjust. You press your forehead to the sheer tank separating you from his flat belly as you look over your shoulder.

"I can take it," you say, trying to relax. Doyoung inserts another slender finger, making you clench around him and Jaehyun until the other man is panting. 

"I didn't ask if you could take it. I asked if you were going to be good."

"Fuck me and find out," you taunt. He's not like the others–he denies you anything but the wedge of his fingers into your ass, adding a third to stretch you when you're not loose enough. 

Jaehyun fucks against the intrusion, holding out until you're closer as he twines his fingers with yours and watches you work Jungwoo's oversized cock in your mouth and hand. 

"Knew you were a little slut who wanted to have all her holes stuffed. One of us wasn't enough for you, you had to make us share. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little ass, though."

Doyoung drops another gob of spit on the dimple at the base of your spine, letting it slide over the gape left when he slides out his fingers. You cry out at the first intrusion of his cock into your barely-lubed hole, fighting to stay on top of Jaehyun as he works in with shallow thrusts, inch by agonizing inch.

"Keep forcing me out," Doyoung says. "I'll just fuck you harder." 

As if to prove his point he grabs on to your ruined dress at the back, arching your spine for you and making you take him deeper. The burning pain blurs into delicious aching pleasure–you needed this more than you could have even imagined. Jaehyun grunts inarticulately, palming your breasts and squeezing them in time to the ecstatic shudders rolling through your body as you're filled. 

"Open up for me," Jungwoo says, cock back in your gaping mouth. You let him hold you by the hair to fuck into your mouth, spit and tears mixing to splash on your breasts. 

When they resume their individual efforts you feel yourself being pulled apart by sensation, only able to manage sharp breaths through your nose to keep from drowning as tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from your throat. 

"No cumming until she creams herself on Jaehyun," Doyoung says, reaching around to press hard into your clit. It's a hard ask with how overstimulated you already are but you can feel your muscles tightening against your will. Doyoung and Jaehyun's uhhs and mms mix in your ears, Jungwoo softly praising you when your jaw relaxes to swallow him despite the rock of your body against the other two. 

"Fuck she's so tight," Jaehyun says. "I don't know if I can wait."

"Wait." Doyoung orders, picking up his pace. "She's close. Make sure she remembers to breathe."

Jungwoo groans, pulling out with a last slap of his head on your tongue, letting you lap at the precum leaking from him. "You two are useless." 

He kneels down beside you, wresting Doyoung's hand away from your sore folds and rubbing soft, tight circles around your nub. It's not the stimulation as much as his mouth on yours, kissing with as much care and intimacy as you'd felt before, that carries you to a peak again.

"Oh fuck," Jaehyun says, lifting you with a last upwards jerk of his hips and spilling inside you. The rush of warm heat is so good you chase it, overworked muscles unable to hold against the sensation and twitching powerfully around both of their cocks buried deep inside you. 

Just as quickly your knees give out, collapsing half on Jaehyun and Jungwoo. Doyoung's shallow movements turn violent as he no longer bothers to keep you locked on Jaehyun, thrusting a few more times into your throbbing heat before emptying himself and pulling out to rub the last few spurts onto your skin.

"Shh," Jungwoo says when you continue to whimper, sniffling from the tears sliding down your cheeks. "You're almost done."

You shake your head half-heartedly, clinging to his shirt. You're dizzy, adrenaline fading and leaving you boneless and blotted out.

"Please. Maybe just a breather?" you beg. "My legs . . ." 

Jaehyun lifts you, and you hiss at the raw pain of your abused knees, grit brushed away by someone else's hands.

"Poor baby." Doyoung says. "Should have done this in bed but you just couldn't wait."

"'S fine," you mumble, swimming in the glow of your last orgasm. "Bed sounds nice."

"Get a towel," Jungwoo says, and Jaehyun rushes to grab one for you. Instead of cleaning or drying you off Jungwoo carries you to the edge of the pool, slipping in and cramming the soft fabric under you as he lets your legs dangle over the edge and into the water.

"What are you doing, puppy?" You manage to ask, holding on to his neck.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful," he says, palming himself between your legs. "Someone want to keep her head up? I need her to watch." 

Jaehyun adjusts to embrace you from behind, spreading your limp legs so they can all see the steady leak of cum from your gaping holes. You hear the telltale click of a picture being taken, distantly aware Doyoung's phone is still–obviously–working.

"What . . . ?" You ask drowsily, acquiescencing to the pull of your dress over your head and off of you. You shiver deeply, warmed by the body heat of the man behind you as the other strips in front of you. 

"You're going to come for us one more time," Jungwoo says, rising out of the water to pump himself at your leaking core. "I'm not letting you go until I can wring every last drop out of you."

"Fuck," you protest, writhing as he pulls you almost off the hard deck and onto his ready length. Jaehyun holds you tight, arm under your breasts as Jungwoo slides into the mess of cum and slick between your thighs. 

"That's right, take it," Jungwoo says, pinning you against Jaehyun. "Breathe, baby." 

"Too much," you sob, finding he's not even fully sheathed when the familiar ache in your belly of being hit too deep whites out your brain. 

"You don't want your puppy?" Jungwoo can barely speak, ramming in deeper with each rock of his hips. "Don't want to be a good mommy and take all of me?" 

Jaehyun is already semi-hard against your back, and you catch Doyoung's approval before he replaces it with a feigned look of disgust, slipping into the water to watch you both. You can see his arm flex, jerking himself underwater, the other holding his phone up. 

"If we'd known you were such a whore we would have fucked you sooner. It looks like you'll need some more breaking in."

You cry out, stretched tight around the thicker root of Jungwoo's cock, letting him wrap your legs over his shoulders for maximum depth. Whatever pain you feel is so merged with the fullness and perfect hit of him against your walls that you don't mind it, you can't help but slip into a dreamy state of bliss. 

"You're doing so well," Jaehyun says into the hair at your temple. "Can't wait to treat you right. Make you come on my tongue again as many times as I can before the sun rises."

"No, no, no," you moan.

Jaehyun pinches your nipple to wake you up, Jungwoo gasping when you manage to clench around him. 

"You both got her pussy first. You should let me take her tonight. Keep her awake by fucking her as soon as she falls asleep." Doyoung threatens, pulling your leg aside to get the best angle of you being impaled and stretched fuller than you'd ever thought you could be. 

"No one's getting her if she doesn't come again," Jungwoo says. He meets your tear-filled gaze, eyes half-lidded. "Is that what you want? To fall asleep on my cock and let me warm you all night until you're ready to fuck me?"

"Please, come for me, puppy," you manage to bite out, touching yourself in earnest to try and fight back. "So big for me, fill me up."

He takes the bait–you're folded in half, legs bent to your chest as he drives in, balls slapping wetly against you. When you're pliant again he readjusts his strokes to press into your upper walls with each rotation of his hips, and for the first time in a long time you realize you're getting close on cock alone. 

Jaehyun seems to feel the change in you, grinding against your back as his hand holds your throat so you can't turn away. The pressure makes you practically feral, crying out for more. 

"Just like that, like that, please please please," you moan over the lap of the water.

"Feel you sucking me in," Jungwoo says, face flushed and sweaty over you, hair dripping water onto your curled belly. "Let go for me so I can come in you so deep you can taste it."

"Yes, yes, please." You buck with the sudden electric tingle of another climax, steady tempo leading you to softer spasms than before. It's fine if you can't tell where you're at or what you're feeling because Jungwoo can, one final snap of his hips dropping you into fucked out darkness. 

When you come to again you're wrapped around him in the pool, gasping at the sensation of his cock still slowly pumping the last of his release into you.

"Trust me," he says, hands under your backside, lowering you into water suspended between the night and the warmth below. 

Doyoung spreads a hand over your breasts, Jaehyun beside him to hold your neck like he's teaching you to float. You let your mouth fall open and your eyes clench shut, tasting pool water before one of them–Doyoung probably, by the sounds--releases thick, white stripes across your tongue. Jaehyun follows suit, cockhead nudging against the underside of your breast as he paints your torso with molten heat. 

"Fuck that was incredible," Jungwoo says, slipping out of you finally so you can sink into the water. You submerge as much as you can to lose the coat of stickiness, until Doyoung decides you're done, pulling you out and against his chest.

"That was . . . a lot," you admit, shaking against him. 

"You did so well." He soothes you with a hand on your head, clearing your hair from your face delicately to press a kiss to your forehead.  The gesture is so at odds with his recent persona that you can't resist burrowing into it, relaxing fully against his naked chest. "Not bad for an initiation."

"I'm one of you, now?" you murmur. 

"Always were," Jaehyun says. He doesn't dare take you from Doyoung but he does lean down to kiss you deeply, hand running broad circles over your spine.

"Just think of all those red cards as an invitation." Jungwoo jokes, sinking down to eye level to caress your cheek. 

You remember scraped knees and busted lips, cafeteria trays dumped on you by entire tables of jealous girls and sycophantic boys. Johnny humiliating you, ordering you to clean his shoe with his tongue when you'd taken the place of your weaker friend who'd spilled on it. 

But you also remember the small moments of acknowledgement–the way Jungwoo had lingered outside your work waiting to get off when you closed to walk you home at night, or how Doyoung had bought out the entire store when you'd used the shitty part-time job as an excuse to duck out of being his date to a formal dinner you had no business being at. 

And most of all, all those hours spent sitting beside Jaehyun in your rooftop retreat, silently appreciating the late afternoon sun turning the city brilliant as you shared one half of a wired headphone.

Maybe having your heart ripped out was worth it, if it meant having this.

"Which one of us do you want to take care of you tonight?" Doyoung asks. 

You smile into his cool skin, melting into the knowledge that you've earned a place very few had shared. You'll enjoy it as long as it can last.

"Play for it."

[airas-story]

Dealbreaker

“Right,” Stephen drawled. “I think I’ll avoid the risk of getting sprayed with oil by your idea of metal pets.”

Tony’s smile faltered. “Pets?” Tony repeated. His brow furrowed. “For some reason I just thought you of all people would understand,” Tony muttered. Stephen paused, the sense that he’d misstepped somewhere hitting him. Tony shook his head and rubbed at the oil stain on his cheek, spreading the oil around rather than cleaning it off. “I think you should go. I’ve got things to do.”

What? “We had plans—“ Stephen started.

“Yeah, well—“ Tony’s phone beeped and Tony looked at it. “Looks like I’m needed somewhere.”

Stephen didn’t mention that Tony had just cancelled their plans before he’d received that text.

He couldn’t help the pang of hurt. He thought that he and Tony had been getting along well. Better than well, even. 

What had just happened?

“How’s Tony?” Stephen asked Colonel Rhodes in what he hoped was an entirely normal tone of voice and not an obviously prying one. Colonel Rhodes often acted as one of the Avengers liaisons with Kamar Taj—though Stephen preferred when Tony did—and Stephen had no problems taking advantage of the opportunity to try to get answers. “I haven’t seen him this week.” Which shouldn’t have been much. But Tony had cancelled every single one of the plans they’d had and wasn’t responding to Stephen’s texts when before they’d kept a fairly steady conversation going, despite the fact that they were both busy people.

Stephen had the strong feeling he’d messed up somewhere but couldn’t for the life of him figure out how.

“Oh he’s moping about something.” Colonel Rhodes rolled his eyes. “Refused to tell me though since I’d ‘take the traitor’s side’.” Stephen had the sinking feeling that he was the ‘traitor’ that Colonel Rhodes was talking about. “You don’t happen to know what he’s talking about?”

Stephen shifted slightly. “He was fine, for the most part, last time I saw him when he was showing me his ‘bots.”

Colonel Rhodes jerked a little, staring at Stephen in surprise. “Things are more serious than I thought.” Colonel Rhodes sounded strangely impressed by that. “If he introduced you to DUM-E and U.”

“Yes, well, it didn’t—“ he froze, the words really hitting him. Introduced. Not showed. “Oh.”

He stared at the Cloak of Levitation. Thought about how Tony nicknamed them and teased them and while he treated the Cloak of Levitation with as much respect as he treated anyone else, which was to say, not much, he treated the Cloak of Levitation with as much respect as he treated anyone else, which was to say he treated them like anyone else. Like the Cloak of Levitation was a person in their own right.

“I think I need to go,” he said, standing up.

Colonel Rhodes blinked at him, before raising an amused eyebrow. “Wow, I recognize that look. That’s almost identical to Tony’s ‘shit, I messed up’ look. What did you do?”

Stephen felt a quick curl of shame. “I didn’t realize he was introducing me to DUM-E and U.”

Colonel Rhodes let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s gonna hurt.”

“He hasn’t spoken to me in a week,” Stephen said. Because yes, it hurt, just a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. “And he cancelled all of our plans for the foreseeable future.”

Colonel Rhodes didn’t look particularly sympathetic. He looked a little like he was finding this hilarious which was entirely unfair. “Yeah, well, you didn’t like his kids. Kind of a deal breaker for him.”

I hadn’t realized I was being introduced to his kids, Stephen wanted to argue. He had a feeling it would do him any good. “How much of a deal breaker?” he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer. And that he really wasn’t going to like it.

Colonel Rhodes moved closer, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.” He sounded far too cheerful for what were the furthest thing from encouraging words. “You’re going to need it.”

“You spend a lot of time with Tony,” Stephen said, trying not to sound as awkward as he felt as he tried to get the information he needed from a teenager. “And with his bots,” Stephen added.

Peter’s face scrunched up, but he didn’t stop digging into the ice cream that Stephen was unashamedly bribing him with. “Oh, is that what this is about?”

“And what is ‘that’?” Stephen asked, not even bothering trying to be delicate in his questioning. It was why he’d bought the ice cream, after all.

“Why you and Mr. Stark aren’t talking right now. FRIDAY says that Mr. Stark is maybe overreacting and you didn’t understand, Mr. Stark thinks that you’re a jerk who steals candies from babies.”

Stephen blinked at that. “What?”

“Except his bots are the babies and your manners were the candy?” Peter said, sounding uncertain. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. I didn’t quite follow his train of logic.”

“I don’t have manners for anyone,” Stephen muttered. 

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, but you didn’t like his kids. It’s kind of a deal breaker.”

So Colonel Rhodes had said. Stephen wanted to protest that he hadn’t meant to be rude to Tony’s kids. He hadn’t even meant to be rude to the bots when he hadn’t realized he was being introduced. He’d just been… well, his normal caustic self. Which Tony was normally just fine with. That Tony was normally more than fine with. It was honestly part of how and why they’d bonded initially.

Peter gave him a consoling pat on the arm. The cloak knocked Peter’s hand away in annoyance. “It’s okay,” Peter said, tone almost cheerful. “He’s still moping about it, which means that he’s still upset.”

Stephen gave him a narrowed-eyed look. “How is that a good thing?”

“If he’s not over it, yet. It means that he’s still waiting for you to fix it,” Peter explained, as though that was obvious.

That was both good to know and far less helpful than Stephen would like it to be. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this when he won’t even talk to me?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been in like… one relationship. And honestly MJ just sort of tells me when I’ve messed up and how to fix it. She’s direct like that.” He made a face. “I should probably be more grateful for that. Especially looking at you and Mr. Stark. You two are a mess.”

Because that was exactly what Stephen wanted, his relationship—had they even been a relationship? They really hadn’t gone into specifics about that—with Tony to be judged by a 17 year old. Life aspirations fulfilled. Still, he was maybe a little closer to figuring out how to fix things now.

[stvrdrops]

Bodyguard shuri x reader ! It’s been on my mind for saurrr long

yess! i love this idea so muchhh. wasn't sure if you wanted it to be like a fame au or anything so i just went for it in my own way :) it's kind of just a tiny imagine, hope that's okay!

princess protection ☆ | bodyguard!shuri x fem!reader

when you begged your mom to lessen your security you never imagined she'd actually do it. even more shocking, to replace them all she brings in your nation's protector. shuri, the black panther, is now in charge of making sure you were safe and protected. maybe in more than one way.

warnings : none

word count : 2.1k+

being the princess of a nation was no small task. you were constantly attending political meetings, beautiful galas, and even doing community service for those around you. you loved being out and about, rather than confined to the palace.

your mother, the queen, often feared for your safety. of course you had quite the entourage of guard ready to protect you wherever you went. you had people trailing you with weapons ever since you were fresh out of the womb. it never scared you, but you never exactly cared for it. it made you stand out even though you loved to be the star in the room. you begged and begged your mother after your eighteenth birthday to lower the amount of guards trailing you. you realized it made you still feel trapped despite being out in the open. besides, wakanda was extremely safe other than the occasional invasion, which was swiftly put to rest by your nation's protector. the black panther.

she constantly refused, saying that you were the future leader of the nation and needed to be protected adequately. you quickly gave up hope and moped around the palace for a solid year or two before your mother finally caved in.

"mother? what was the urgent call about on my kimoyo beads?" you ask her as you step into the throne room. she had her back to you, obviously speaking to somebody else.

"ah, y/n! i have a surprise for you." she quickly turns around, still shielding whoever she had been speaking to. you attempt to look around your mother. she notices this, and steps aside.

your eyes widen when you see the black panther standing before you. her helmet was off, allowing you to see her face. you hardly ever saw shuri without the mask. she was always on missions or you were always out of the palace when she had been home in the lab. your paths never found a way to cross despite running in the same social circles. it had to have been at least an entire year since you were in her presence, considering she had been on a major mission.

"princess." she says, a charming smile spreading across her face.

"um, hi." you say, feeling your mouth go wide. she had gotten much more attractive since the last time you saw her up close. you two were close in age, so it wasn't like this crush you had was new. when you were younger you spent a decent amount of time together, but were never close.

"shuri's missions as the black panther have become less and less high priority. she's doing an amazing job so i'm assigning some of her more easy missions to the dora. while she truly deserves a couple days off, i've decided she will be your personal bodyguard until she is needed. she will be your only bodyguard may i add."

no way.

shuri laughs, "oh trust me, this is will be a good enough vacation for me. after all, i'm sure the princess can't get into too much trouble."

"you underestimate me." you say, with a challenge in your voice.

"noted." she responds back, willing to accept your challenge.

the tension between you two is so thick that not even a vibranium spear could cut through it. shuri kept her eyes squinted as she looked at you, as if she was studying you. to tell the truth, she had been quite excited about this mission. spending time with the princess would be a dream, she thought. also, she presumed it would be fairly easy as well.

you looked at her in the same way, but you were more undressing her with your eyes.

"y/n, do you still need to visit the market today? i know you said something about stopping for some new silks."

your eyes are ripped away from shuri, "oh, yes! thank you mother. shuri, i'll give you time to change out of your suit and then i can take you for a test drive."

shuri laughs, "no need." she presses something on her suit near her wrist. causing the suit to dissipate into a necklace. she wore a tight gray outfit underneath the suit. you couldn't help but feel like an idiot thinking about how she might've been in just her underwear under the suit. "i'm ready whenever you are, princess."

you smirk, walking away from her. you don't bother looking back to see if she's following you. her quick footsteps gave it away. it also helped that she was taller than you, her shadow looming slightly over your body.

"you do know that you don't have to loom over behind me, right?" you say as you look through the many silks at the stall.

"where else am i meant to stand?"

"how about next to me? i don't think i'd kill you."

she scoffs, "you couldn't kill me even if you tried."

a smile spreads across your face, "cocky."

she moves over to the side of you, causing your hands to brush slightly. you contemplate whether or not you want to meet her eyes for a second. ultimately your curiosity gets the better of you. when you look up you see her staring back at you. her eyes were dark brown, but you could see a sparkle in them. you could now also clearly see the tiny scar on her forehead that her hair almost nearly hid.

when she looked at you she noticed how beautiful your own eyes had been when exposed in the sunlight. she studied every beauty mark on your face that the pictures never quite captured. shuri obviously knew you were beautiful, but now that you were up close after all this time it had been impossible to deny your beauty. she had a task to complete though, meaning finding your beauty too blinding would be dangerous. if she was too consumed by you, lost in your chocolate river eyes, she couldn't focus on the task at hand.

"do you like this one?" you ask, picking up a random silk without breaking eye contact. you didn't want to look away from her.

shuri's eyes glance away from you for a second, "i think orange is a beautiful color for you, princess."

you wanted so badly to be a smart ass and tell her you had a name. however, hearing the word princess roll of her tongue did something dangerous to you.

"princess?" a voice calls out to you from the sea of people.

you had never seen someone move so quickly the way that shuri did as she got in front of you. the two of you didn't even know who the supposed threat was, but shuri couldn't help but go into her defense stance.

"princess! hello!" a woman makes her way out of the crowd. you recognize her as the caretaker of the orphanage you often help out at.

"stand down shuri, it's okay." you say, putting a hand on her arm to get her to relax. she looks over her shoulder back at you, giving a swift nod. her body moves back beside you just as fast as it had gotten in front of your own.

"hello mrs. adabashi! how are all the children doing?"

she smiles, "oh, they are just wonderful! they so enjoy the toys you brought for them last week. little kami has not put down the dolls since you handed them to her."

shuri can't help but admire the conversation as you both talk to one another about the children. shuri was not exactly sure what to expect when your mother asked her to watch over you. it had been quite some time since shuri saw you last and she didn't know your personality that well. now she knew that she had made the right choice in choosing to accept the queen's offer.

the whole rest of the time at the market was spent with you in conversation with shuri. you asked her constantly what life was like as wakanda's protector. you even managed to slip in a question about if she had anyone important in her life at the moment. she found that question amusing and answered truthfully, with a swift no. she claimed that she didn't have any time in her strict schedule to fall into any romances. you figured that if she was spending all her time with you, then it wouldn't matter. you had your eyes on her now, and you almost never got turned down.

the more time you spent with her the more you didn't want the day to end. it made you happy to know that every day would be like this. that was, until she was called back to her panther duties. you assumed that if you ever did get caught in a sneaky relationship with the black panther that your mother wouldn't mind. you could arguably do worse. plus, the nation's princess and protector in a relationship together would do wonders for the people's morale.

"you know you don't have to go, right?" you ask her as you both approach the door to your bedroom.

shuri laughs, "am i supposed to guard you while you sleep?"

"i don't plan on sleeping yet. as long as i'm awake i feel as if you should be on guard."

"who do you think plans on attacking you tonight?"

you look up to her, staring into her eyes. "i'm inviting you into my room and here you are questioning me. will you really deny your princess?"

shuri sucks on her teeth as she looks around the hallway, that same charming smile on her face.

"i can't believe you are pulling the princess card on me right now."

"well, is it working, my panther?"

the nickname being used in such a manner sent goosebumps down shuri's spine. she was meant to keep a professional relationship with you. bast knows that the queen would have her powers stripped if she were to hurt her precious baby. she was meant to protect you from the world, not entertain you romantically. however, she licks her lips as she contemplates the enticing question.

"if you really feel you need my protection."

"badly." you whisper out to her.

"fuck it," shuri says, "whatever you say, princess."

you just smile, knowing you have the most dangerous person in wakanda wrapped around your finger. you push the door open, revealing your room to her. it was large and the windows allowed you to see all of the capitol. even shuri was shocked by its beauty, despite living here all her life. for some reason it seemed so much more special from inside of your bedroom.

"do you like being my personal bodyguard?"

shuri watches you as you go to your walk in closet. she can hear you changing as the sound of clothes being thrown around fills her ears. it takes everything in her to not look.

"i can't say it's the worst job in the world."

"and why is that?"

"something tells me you already know the answer to that."

you walk out of your room wearing a large t-shirt that shuri can tell is american vintage. she could also tell you weren't wearing any shorts when you lifted your curly hair up into a messy bun. shuri can't help but stare as you walk over to your bed. it was nice to see you in a normal state, without all the jewels and fancy clothes. however, it wasn't just that. the way you moved commanded attention and it radiated elegance.

"come here." you beckon to her. it was as if she didn't ave a mind of her own as she followed your command. it made you feel in control, and it was pretty damn amazing. "sit down."

"you are very bossy."

"it is in my nature. i am the future queen after all."

shuri laughs, "that's true. i think you'll make a great one."

the compliment makes you smile, "so you'll remain as my personal bodyguard even when i am queen?"

"of course, i serve wakanda and those in it. that includes you."

"i'm sure there are other ways that you can serve me."

her eyebrow raises, "oh really?"

you nod your head, looking at her with lust in your eyes.

shuri suddenly grabs you and sets you onto her lap. it feels so normal as you straddle her, arms around her neck. you felt like you were the perfect piece to her puzzle. she notices how you arch your back in efforts to feel closer to her.

"so, this is your idea of protection?" you can't help but ask.

"do you feel protected?"

"in the arms of the black panther? oh, most definitely."

you kiss her, allowing yourself to fully envelop yourself into her. her lips feel soft as they glide against yours. if this is what having shuri as your bodyguard was like, then you never wanted it to end.

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡°✩☼⋆｡°✩☽

[ksywoo]

let them see I'm yours / l.jh

pairing: woozi x reader pronouns: they/them, partner used in reference to reader word count: 1.3k genre: fluff, established relationship, woozi: *hates pda but wants people to know yn is dating him so he quietly sulks instead*. yn: *doesn't shut up about their bf woozi to anyone with ears* warnings: one tiny little kiss, alcohol mentioned, reader tipsy but barely mentioned or noticeable, a little bit of jealousy but it's more like annoyance note from fizzy: its short but I've had this in my wips forever and just wanna post something :( honestly surprised I'm writing for him before some of the others bc i thought he'd be difficult to write but i just love "super secure in his relationship but just annoyed when he thinks someone is flirting with you" woozi :(

masterlist

Jihoon didn’t get jealous often. He was confident and comfortable in your relationship, he knew your affection was only for him, but sometimes he could get a little insecure. You knew he wasn’t big on public affection, whether it be physical or verbal, and you had stated time and time again that he didn’t need to scream it from the rooftops for you to know how much he loved you. 

But there were some times when he wished he was more comfortable being loudly in love because maybe it would keep away the people that tried hitting on you. If he was louder, they would know you already had a boyfriend. 

But he wasn’t, so they didn’t. 

You had been hit on before, of course, you had. It would be absurd for him to expect people to stay away from you, especially since you were outgoing and obviously hot (he refuses to believe that's a biased opinion; it's simply a fact). He normally could brush off seeing someone make a move on you as long as you weren't uncomfortable. You had told him before that you found it funny rather than gross if someone openly flirted with you considering your relationship with Jihoon started after you pined after him relentlessly. There had only been one occasion where a stranger flirting with you had made you uncomfortable, but luckily Wonwoo had stepped in since your boyfriend hadn't been there.

Despite you being used to getting noticed by others, he still wasn't. He trusted you, and he knew at the end of the day that you weren't going to randomly dump him for the next person to ask for your number, but that didn't mean it didn't piss him off sometimes.

It was already an off-day for him, and he was feeling a little more bothered than usual, watching from the kitchen as you laughed at some guy who probably wasn’t even that funny. He huffed at himself as he leaned against the counter, annoyed at himself for being annoyed. 

If he was as affectionate as Mingyu or Soonyoung, he would go over to you and kiss your cheek or wrap his arms around you, pretending he didn’t know he was being obnoxiously jealous as he glared at the person talking to you. Initiating things like that wasn’t something he was comfortable with, and he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you or something, he just wished people knew you were dating him. 

He glanced over at you for probably the thirtieth time in the last hour when Seungcheol walked up to him.

“Hey, Wooz,” he greeted, slinging his arm over his friend's shoulder. “Why are you moping over here instead of hanging out with anyone?” 

“Hm?” Jihoon looked away from you to make eye contact with Seungcheol before looking away. “Oh, I don’t know.” 

“Well you look upset and it’s bumming me out–” 

“Hey, Cheol? Is it… Do you think people know me and Y/n are, like, dating?” 

Cheol pouted in confusion before following Jihoon’s gaze to the other room, where you were talking to the same guy you had been talking to all night. The tall boy was looking at you fondly as you spoke and Jihoon couldn’t blame him, it was easy to admire you when you were ranting or talking or existing or doing literally anything. But why were you rambling to that guy instead of your boyfriend? And why did you have the biggest, cheesiest smile on your face?

“Oh,” Cheol hummed, understanding the situation. “Honestly, not really. It took Mingyu and Dino literally three months to figure out you guys were dating. I mean, maybe if you, you know, actually talked with them at things like this…” he hinted, pushing Jihoon’s shoulder in your direction. "You two just aren't super affectionate in public, which is totally fine, but if you want something to change, you have to change."

“I just don’t want to hover. I don’t want them to think I’m needy.” 

“But you are needy,” Seungcheol teased with a smile. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But that’s not even being needy, it’s literally just spending time with your partner. It’s obvious you’re dating when you two interact, you both have the biggest heart eyes when you talk. But if you avoid them, no one is going to assume you’re as stupidly in love as you are.” 

Jihoon pushed Cheol away and huffed. “Fine. Now leave me alone.” 

As Seungcheol grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator, Jihoon mumbled a thank you for his friend's encouragement, to which the older patted his back affectionately and left the room. 

Jihoon took a deep breath and grabbed a water bottle as well so he had an excuse to walk up to you; as if him dating you wasn’t enough of an excuse. When he turned back to where you had been standing for the last hour, you had disappeared.

He frowned as he stepped past the doorway and his eyes darted around the room, starting to worry about where you had gone. He had looked away for just a few seconds, you couldn’t have gone far.

“Hey, Jihoon, right?” 

He looked up to see the guy you had been talking to. “Uh, yeah.” 

“I’m Soobin,” he introduced himself with a polite smile. “I was just talking to Y/n and–” 

Jihoon straightened his posture, prepared to hear something he didn’t like. Maybe this guy was about to go on about how amazing you were, not knowing Jihoon knew that better than anyone. Or maybe he was going to threaten to take Jihoon’s place or—

“—you guys are so cute together.” 

Jihoon raised his eyebrows. “Oh.” 

“I’m sure you know this, but Y/n talks about you like you’re the sun. It’s very cute how happy you guys are.” He had a very sweet and amused smile on his lips, seeming shy to compliment the older boy about his relationship. 

“You guys were talking about… me?” Jihoon awkwardly asked, pointing to himself. That’s why you had that look in your eye? Cute.

Soobin laughed with an excited nod. “Barely talked about anything else. I was going to ask if they knew where Seungkwan was but then they mentioned you and– Y/n really gets off on tangents when you get brought up.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized, but wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. “I think I saw Seungkwan outside a few minutes ago.” He was fully embarrassed now, he could feel his face glowing red. He grimaced and Soobin chuckled. 

Here Jihoon was, jealous and worried about some guy talking to you when it turns out the guy is not only much younger, but you were gushing about Jihoon the whole time. Suddenly, he was glad he didn’t march over to you and make an ass of himself.

“Hoonie!” you called, entering the kitchen and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck just as Soobin slipped out, leaving you and Jihoon alone. 

“I was just looking for you,” he said with a soft smile, squeezing his eyes shut as you kissed his cheek. 

“My legs hurt from standing, I need to go sit down. Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to an unoccupied armchair. You sat down on the arm while he sat on the seat, wanting to give him space. “Why do you look so embarrassed?” you asked.

He looked at you as you started playing with his hair, admiring your bright smile even if you were slightly tipsy. “Didn’t realize you talked about me to random people.” 

“Are you kidding?” you laughed. “I talk about you to literally everyone I meet. There isn’t a soul I’ve met that doesn’t know I have the best and cutest boyfriend in the entire world.” 

He huffed as you pinched his cheek but he placed his hand on your thigh and gently tugged you down to sit on his lap before quickly pecking your lips. You looked scandalized and dramatically looked around to see nobody paying attention to you. “Jihoon! Someone could see us.” 

He chuckled and squeezed your leg. “That’s okay. If they do, at least they’ll see that I’m yours.” 

[hannahbarberra162]

Country Mouse, City Mouse Chapter 10 (end)

On Ao3

This is the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing Mihawk. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A Horse By Any Other Name

Mihawk POV

Despite his denial about the changing seasons, the farming season was coming to a close. You were busy harvesting, breaking down areas of the farm that had stopped producing, and training the humandrills to take care of your horse. You’d named it Draftmule Mihorse, which you found amusing. He pretended that he did not. Perona had said Mihawk was “moping,” but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was an intelligent man, he knew that all things must end. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you work from the windows of the castle, wondering where your travels would take you next. 

He had no doubt that you could succeed anywhere, though the thought of you capriciously traipsing through the world did worry him. You didn’t know how terrible and cruel the world was - and he hoped you never had to learn. You didn’t seem to care that there were dangers lurking around each corner, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the thought of your whimsical travels. He would try to talk some sense into you, and see what could be arranged.

He left the castle and came down to watch you tend to Mihorse. You obviously loved the creature and anticipated its every need. You didn’t use it as a draft horse as much as a riding horse. He loved watching you ride it about the island, hair fluttering behind you. He had once seen you ride it in the nude under the light of the moon, a sight he would never forget. You were murmuring to Mihorse as you brushed him.

“Ah, Y/N. How is your steed today?” He refused to use the silly name. The beast was not even a mule, much less a draft mule.

“Mihorse is doin’ lovely, as always” you said, kissing the horse on the snout. The horse in return bit your straw hat and pulled it off your head. You didn’t seem to mind. 

“Out of curiosity, why are you training the humandrills to take care of the horse?” he wasn’t sure why the task had been allocated to them, rather than himself. It was certainly not jealousy prompting his line of questioning.

“Well, you leave for weeks on end for work, Perona hates horses, and Mihorse hates Zoro. So, who else would take care of him? Besides, they treat him like a little prince, he loves it. He might think he’s one of them,” you mused.

“Why aren’t you taking him with you on your journey?

You sighed forlornly and patted the horse on the neck. “I don’t think I can. He needs a lot of care and a stable life, not a life of travel…I’m gonna miss him a lot.” You looked up at his face and asked “what’s on your mind doll?” You were attuned to Mihawk’s moods, something else he would miss when you left. 

“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming departure from the island.” You frowned slightly.

“Yeah, that’s comin’ real soon, huh?”

“Indeed. I am not sure your usual methods of finding new work will be suitable.”

“Oh, why might that be?”

“You were seen in public in my company, at the lizard’s gala. You will be known to the government as an outlaw.”

“But don’t you work for the government?” you said, looking at him quizzically. Mihawk frowned - that was a good point.

“In a manner of speaking. But other pirates and underworld bosses saw the same as well. It would not be safe to travel haphazardly to another location.”

“I don’t need to travel willy nilly, Shanks said he’d come pick me up and drop me at another island. I was thinkin’ of tryin’ a winter island this time, just for fun. Winter crops are so interestin’, especially since you can-”

Mihawk did something uncharacteristic. He interrupted you. 

“You may not journey on that decrepit, malodorous, dilapidated, ramshackle ship of foolishness.”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. You crossed your arms and shifted your weight to one leg. This…may not have been the best method to convince you.

“Really? Is there a reason why you are able to forbid me from doin’ somethin? As far as I remember, our partnership is about to expire, leaving me a free woman. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that was the arrangement.”

“ Was ? Is there somethin’ I don’t know?” You looked even angrier than before. He decided to bare his feelings to you and deal with what may come.

“Yes, in fact there is. I do not wish for you to leave. I have enjoyed every moment spent in your company. You are the light to my dark, the sun to my moon, the rose to my thorn. I am never bored with you and never tire of listening to you. You are beyond what I could ever think possible to find in a woman. You are interesting, intelligent, charming, alluring, and a sensual treat. Please, stay with me.”

“Mihawk, I…”

“If you wish to travel and move on, I would be honored to take you to another location. It is selfish of me to covet more of your time. But I…I am only a man. A man in love. Please.” Mihawk practically whispered the last word as he looked at you with an intense gaze. He hadn’t begged for anything in his life. But he would beg on his knees if you wanted him to.

Y/N POV

You uncrossed your arms and stood up on your toes, putting your face close to his. 

“All you had to do was ask,” you said as you closed the distance and kissed him deeply.

"You can move into the shed with me if you'd like," you said mischievously.

"For you, I would." He considered his words for a moment and continued, "though I would prefer not to." You laughed and kissed him again.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, but you wanted it to include your dour, sweet, romantic, violent, pale, farming protege. And Shanks had been right - one mention of his name and Mihawk had professed his love. Maybe you’d give him a bottle of booze from Croc’s house too. 

[gt-daboss]

GT Friendships (Oneshot)

CW: Heavy Angst, comments on kidnapping, (let me know if anything else)

3.2k words (Est: 15 min read)

“I don’t care!” the words rang out from the giant before her. Lea stood with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She was a good deal taller than Abby just by herself, and it didn’t help that she was surrounded by 2 friends on either side of her, nearly taking up the entire hallway by themselves. 

“But, you- why would you LIE about the answers, You know I needed to score well on that assignment and-”

“Abigail, we don’t owe you anything, and we aren’t your homework slaves, don’t you have somebody else you can bother?” The way she said it so nonchalantly, at this point, Abby's face was surely red, her ears burning up as she glared daggers.

“Bother? I just- Why couldn’t you- Ugh! Screw you, seriously Lea, I-” Abigail couldn't finish, turning tail to hide her face, her eyes shut tight to avoid tears leaking out. She was screwed, so terribly screwed. She couldn't help but feel like there were a hundred eyes on her, it didn’t help that there were probably countless human students who saw that interaction from the balconies. Trying to save some face, she stormed away, at least I don’t have to see her for the rest of the day… fuck, still have another period left.

Despite how much she wanted to go back there and sock Lea in her dumb stupid face, It would only show how much her words hurt her, “Go bother someone else” She felt her fists clench up.

She didn’t have anybody else, no humans would interact with her because of her father, and no giants would hang out with her for fear of getting ostracized like her. It just felt… impossible, like there was nobody and nowhere to turn to. And now, here she was, on her way to another class, where she would sit in the back alone, it almost made her lose hope. 

Mope later, you need to get to class Abb, maybe if you’re lucky they might force you into a group project with…

“Sada!” Abigail called out, almost instinctually, at the sight of the human girl trekking on the elevated pathways toward the same class as her. Sada froze for a second, always a jumpy human, sharing schools with giants, –especially ones with reputations like Abby's– certainly helped her feel on edge. Still, Abb hasn’t done anything wrong yet, despite what conventional knowledge would say about what her father–

“Hey squirt, you ready for English?” Abby probed, giving almost no hint of the previous altercation in the hallway only moments before. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice Sada unconsciously gripping the railings as the giant casually walked over to her. “You’re gonna be late walking to class on those little legs of yours shorty.”

Sada knew Abigail was just teasing, she hoped at least. But it did nothing to lessen the impact of the words. Abb practically leaned over her now, doing nothing but helping the looming feeling that she just felt… small.  Noticing her ‘friend’s’ lack of response, Abby frowned herself, not wanting to have another Lea situation on her hands, her words still echoing in her head“Go bother someone else”

“Er- but hey, that's not a bad thing, Oh hey, how about, since I’m like, ya know, making you late, you could uh- well I could carry you to class.” Abigail offered, slowly laying a palm up hand a good couple of paces away from the human. Sada didn’t immediately refuse her offer like the giant feared, but that didn’t mean she would say yes.

‘No’ is what she should have said, an immediate response no different than any other human would have said when the daughter of Erik Faust asked to pick you up. Would she even let me say no? There are teachers and students everywhere, there's no way she could get away with anything anyway, but… she gulped, looking up at the giant in front of her. Despite what everybody says about her, she had been surprisingly… normal. No human had anything personal to say about her (other than the fact she was a Faust), and it honestly seemed like the Giants picked on her rather than the other way around. So even though it scared the hell out of her, she agreed.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not right? I’ll be right over,” Abby didn’t say anything in response, but her eyes told it all, beaming brightly as she watched the human inch towards her hand, “You’ve uhh, carried humans before, right?”

“Oh, no- not technically speaking I haven’t ever, but I have been through training, lots of it. They wouldn’t let me in this school unless I did because of my… situation.” despite that, Sada only briefly stopped, before heading towards her hand, once Abigail's hand left the railing there would be no going back just a couple more steps and you can't take it back… shit, that's a kinda messed up way of thinking about it. 

“Hey, uhm so, about earlier, I didn’t mean to demean you when I called you short earlier, I don’t know why I said that I was just… stupid, I was just stupid okay. No excuses, but I won’t do it again.”

That was all the motivation Sada needed. Hoisting herself up onto the giant’s palm, she settled down in the soft, spongy center. The heat emanating off the skin directly below her warmed her up where she felt just comfortable enough to crack a light joke. 

“Thanks, and you better watch out, my doctor said I still could grow a couple more inches, pretty soon I could be taller than you.” Abigail nearly burst out giggling, holding her free hand to her face. Preparing for her platform to go flying, Sada was pleasantly surprised when the hand stood firm throughout. 

*****

“Do you need me to carry you home?” Abigail asked. Sada looked like she was almost considering it, but eventually shook her head.

“It’d be nice, but I live in human-only residential. Thanks for the offer though.” Abby still stood there contemplating, clearly not happy with the answer.

“So you really walk all the way home every day? Doesn't that take you like, forever?” 

“It's only for today since my parents are helping my brother move, only an hour and a half walk Abb, no big deal.” Another frown, Abigail already hated walking the hallways to classes, even thinking about trekking Sada’s way home…

“OH! You could hang out at my place! Just until your parents come back!” Abigail said it almost immediately, not even giving it a chance to filter through her brain. She knew it was much too early to be inviting Sada over, the two had only been acquainted a few weeks, ‘friends’ for a few minutes, but Abigail was desperate for something positive to go her way for once. Plus she rationalized the situation is just perfect… well- perfect for me. Despite knowing what her answer would probably be, it still hurt when the reaction she saw on Sada’s wasn’t nearly as excited as she was.

“You mean like… listen, Abigail, I uhmmm.” Instantly Abigail’s face changed. Without even a word she knew what this answer would be, she had experienced it happen so, so many times. Of course, why would this be any different? Hell, Sada wasn’t even a giant, She probably only talks to you cause she’s scared-

“Abigail, hey, I didn’t say no, Goodness you looked like I just told you your cat died or something,” Abby blinked quickly and then refocused on the human, letting out a weak but genuine laugh. “Hey uhhh, I’ll think about it, alright? Class is about to start so I need to get back to the human desks, but I'll think about it okay? Just meet me outside after class.”

Abigail was this close to squee-ing when she heard that, barely getting a hold of herself, She couldn't stop the constant beaming of her face, a funny turnaround after she looked so pouty and sad just moments prior. Wordlessly she offered her hand to Sada, smiling even larger when she felt the ticklish steps of a human on her hand, her friend on her hand? 

*****

“Sada, what the hell were you just doing? Are you okay? Did she grab you?” Sada’s best friend, Penny, asked, voice dripping with concern. At first, she was stunned by the rapid quick questions thrown at her, but then she remembered which Giant she was with. It was hard to really feel it in the moment, but she was just being carried by Abigail Faust. No human wanted to go near her, and Sada wasn’t even that comfortable with giant students without reputations like hers. Still, she was alright, and she was starting to realize that maybe all these rumors about this giant girl’s family were… exaggerated.

“Hey hey hey, back up Penn, I’m not hurt anywhere, Abb just offered to take me to class since I was running late.”

“‘Abb’? You were in her hand do you know how dangerous that could have been?!” Sada sucked in a deep breath, Penny seemed genuinely worried. Suddenly she started rethinking her decision to hang out with Abigail after class today. Penny had always been the one to tell her that she was overreacting when it came to giants, but apparently, Abby had her shaken. “Sada I’m serious, Charlie has warned me about her and her family, it is not good news.”

Great, Charlie was Penny’s giant boyfriend, but apparently, the bad rumors spread about Abigail weren't kept to the human students alone. “...like what…” Sada asked as Penny came up close to her to whisper as if Abigail could be listening in as they spoke.

“Her dad was like, in the rings, ya know, human trafficking, Charlie's dad was a juror for the case, some of the cases go back years, some families even prosecuted him from events when he was only in high school. I’m being serious Sada, please, if you're going to hang out with her, at least let me and Charlie come with you.”

*****

Meanwhile, on the giant side of the classroom, Abigail was having a completely different conversation.

“So what, did you just kidnap Sada or something? What's up with you carrying a human?” Another giant, Adam, jeered at her. Her face flushed red, it's never-ending with these sacks of-

“Lea stopped giving her the math answers, she needs someone else to give her a free pass.” Great, of course, that’s already spread around huh.

“Oh shut up Eva, I just met her and took her to class, that’s all. We don’t even have the same math teacher,” Abigail responded crassly, clearly fed up with having conversations like these countless, countless times.

“So the kidnapping one was more accurate, bummer,” Eva said nonchalantly, it was stuff like this that Abigail had heard every. Single. Day. Always having to take these people's comments about her but never able to fight back. One more period, just ignore her.

“Shut up, Eva.” Abigail retorted. The blonde across from Abigail smirked, as if she just thought of the most amazing idea in the entire world.

“I guess it runs in the family.” Thats it.

“SHUT UP EVA!” Abigail screamed, rising up from her chair and slamming her hands on her desk. She immediately knew she had messed up when the whole room went quiet, but it just wasn’t fair. 

“Abigail Faust, do you need to take a trip to the principal's office.” Came the nasally voice of her English teacher. Taking a deep breath, she cast one more glare at Eva before sitting back down in her chair.

“I’m fine, sorry for disturbing class,” Ava responded as calmly as she could, stealing a glance over at the human desks, while she couldn’t specifically single Sada out from the crowd, it seemed like the entire human population was staring at her in that moment. 

It’s not fair.

*****

Abigail had decided, she had decided that wouldn’t let them get to her. She wouldn’t let Lea, she wouldn’t let Adam, and she definitely wouldn’t let Eva. No, Sada had been the first person since her dad got convicted who talked to her like a person and not some ticking time bomb or social destroyer. Hell, she had picked up Sada, That's probably more than a good chunk of the giants at her school, but it was her who…

It's hopeless, I already said I don’t care what they think, Sada will be out here soon and I’ll get her opinion.

*****

It was safe to say Sada felt a little terrified.

She had already decided that after what she had heard, she would be declining Abigail's invitation to a sleepover, but it was a lot easier said than done to actually say it to Abb’s face, especially after she blew up on Eva last period. Conventional knowledge told her that of course Abigail wouldn’t do anything to her, but…

“I’ll go on ahead and get Charlie, If we see you are in trouble with her, we’ll come right away, no questions asked okay?” Came the reassuring voice of Penny. The two had made a plan in the case anything went wrong, This is so stupid, Abigail isn’t some kind of human-napper… she paused, thinking about the horror stories friends had told her, Penny had told her, her parents had told her, and even though she knew it was stupid to believe in ever rumor you hear… Its better safe than sorry, sorry Abb.

Sada watched as Penny rounded a corner out of sight as she gathered up her backpack. She waited a couple more minutes before heading to the front entrance herself. The blinding natural light of the outside world made it hard to see for a moment. Looking around for a minute or two, she still couldn’t find Abigail. You’d think it be pretty easy to find someone whos 70 feet ta-

“Hey, Sada! Behind you,” Came the voice of none other than Abigail. Jumping a good foot in the air from the sneak attack, Sada unconsciously gripped the straps of her backpack tight before turning around to face the giant. “Sorry about class, Eva has always had it out for me… but I know what I did was wrong too, I was just… jeez not making this any better. Uhh, Sada do you still want to hang out at my place for the night?”

Abagail wanted to tear into herself in that moment, Great thing to say right after throwing a temper tantrum in front of her, just go tell the human you have anger problems why don’t you? Agh stupid stupid stupid. 

“Err, sorry Abigail, but not tonight okay, I’m getting a ride from Penny today, but, thanks for the offer.” Sada answered, looking up at the giant girl for confirmation.

Nothing… well I’ll just-

“Sorry, Sada, did you say something, It's pretty windy up here, Could I pick you up to hear you better?”

Red flags, If there was ever a warning to turn back and call it quits for Sada, this would have definitively been it. If she got in her hands that would practically be sealing her fate. There would be another time, she didn’t have to make friends with her now-

*WOOOHMPH* Suddenly out of nowhere Sada felt two giant appendages squeeze between her arms and hoist her into the air. To stunned to even speak, the vertigo of traveling dozens of feet into the air in seconds made her head dizzy, and when she finally snapped out of it, she was sitting 70 feet above the ground staring directly at the face of her giant captor who seemed way way to close right now.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you down there-” Abigail began sheepishly but was near immediately cut off by Sada finally catching her breath.

“Abigail Abigail Abigail what the hell, Please put me down, put me down, Why did you pick me up, Oh god.” This can’t be happening, no please, Penny, Charlie help.

Abigail was also panicking, realizing immediately that she had severely messed up, Everybody knew you didn’t grab a human without explicit permission, especially when you had a reputation like Abigail’s. She needed to fix this, but if she put Sada down, she knew she would never be able to get her own word in –a terribly selfish excuse, she knew– but she was just so tired of losing people.

“Wait Sada I’m sorry I didn’t mean to grab you, Please believe me I was-”

“Sada, Abigail!” Came a loud, commanding male voice from her left, Charlie. Instinctually she tightened her grip on Sada and brought her closer to her chest. “Let her go, Abigail, I won’t say it again.” No! It’s not fair!

“W-who are you, w-what do you want from me and Sada.” Abigail weakly refused. This only made the taller giant angrier, as he stormed closer.

“Hand her over Abigail, now!” Was all the giant said in response.

“N-no, leave us alone,” Abigail cried, squeezing her hand even tighter and closer than before, inadvertently eliciting a little squeak from the passenger within, unknown to her over the chaos.

“Now, Abigail, hand over our friend now.” He demanded, now within an arms reach, the size difference between the two giants became immediately clear to the younger and shorter giant. Tears now threatened to spill out of her eyes. It's not fair it's not fair! I don’t even get to explain my side of the story, It always happens to me I can’t ever win It’s just not fai-

“Sada, Sada! Abigail, please let her go you’re hurting her!” Snapping her out of daze wasn't the gruff, loud voice of a giant but a human girl who she hadn’t even realized was riding on his shoulder the entire time. Wait, She mentioned Sada, where is-

Heartbeat. Heartbeat came from the center of her hands. Oh god, her hands, Sada was in her hands. Opening her palms, the sight she saw disgusted her. In the center, trembling, was Sada, a stark contrast to how she looked up at her when traversing the hallways only an hour earlier, this Sada looked terrified of her. No… Please, let me fix this, I can fix this just give me a chance, please!

“Sada, I…” She couldn’t, she couldn’t even finish, couldn’t even say she was sorry before she was interrupted.

“Oh my god, Sada, Sada are you okay, please Abigail put her down.” The human again, I don’t even get to make my case? I- I… its not… its just not fair… Looking past her hands where the human was held, her gaze met the ground, a single tear dropping from her eye. Lips wobbling, she slowly lowered the human to the ground. Why did you even expect something else Abb?

“Go, Sada, g-, just go.” Abigail couldn’t look, but she felt the warm, comforting feeling of the human in her hand slowly scamper off. Not waiting a second longer, she ran. There would be consequences, she knew there would be consequences. But she didn’t care, she just needed to get away and get alone for some time.

This is probably the fastest I've ever written a story, I just HAD to get this on paper I needed the good angst and my mind would not let me sleep unless I wrote it down.

Speaking of which, even though this story was a pretty long one, (and was supposed to be a one-shot) I honestly am already thinking of a possible sequel lmao. But I don't want to accidentally ruin this story's ending... soooo, let me know if I should continue it or leave it as is. Feedback appreciated!

[astrobei]

hi suni astrobi my beloved dear suni ❤️🫂

sending you a valentine's day prompt because i can annnnnd.

i challenge you to write miwi bc i need more miwi in my life. you can do whatever you want with this, but i want to see little baby will making a valentine's day card for his best friend, mike. bonus points if it has like paladin mike and dragons and all that other good ole fashioned dnd goodness.

hi andi andiwriteordie my beloved dear andi <3 happy valentine's day !! as a special present for you, here is my first ever attempt at writing miwi :^)

On Sunday night, Will’s mom brings home a bag of candy.

This, obviously, grabs his attention before anything else– brightly packaged somethings that crinkle loudly when his mom puts the bag down on the kitchen table. He can see them peeking out through the thin white plastic of the Melvald’s bag, and immediately perks up.

“What are those?” he asks, because it’s not rare for his mom to bring stuff back from work– especially on late nights like this, when she knows that Jonathan is busy with homework and no one’s had a chance to cook dinner, not when she’s been out all day and his dad is– well. His dad sure isn’t about to cook dinner, and Will has learned how to heat stuff up in the microwave but they’re currently out of everything that he can stick in a microwave. Will expects her to whip out a couple of TV dinners, and he kind of hopes she will, because it’s late and he’s hungry.

He peers over the long end of the table, trying to catch a glimpse, because the TV dinners don’t usually look like this– all pink and red and crinkly. His mom laughs, then holds the bag open by the handles so he can look inside. “Candy,” she says, “for your class Valentine’s Day party tomorrow.”

Will stopped listening after the word candy. He doesn’t know what Valentine’s Day is, and he doesn’t really care, because the bag is full of the brightly wrapped candies and chocolates that he saw in the store the other day when his mom took him inside. “Whoa,” he breathes out, and reaches out to stick a hand into the bag, even if just to make sure that what he’s seeing is real. A whole bag, full of candy. The wrappers crinkle some more, loud under his palm, and he pulls out a heart-shaped lollipop, flat and an almost aggressive shade of red. “Is this for us?”

“Oh, no way,” his mom laughs some more. “This much candy? All your teeth are going to fall out.”

Will grins. “My teeth are already falling out,” he says, pointing to where he’d lost his first one just a couple of weeks ago. He’s still not used to it, the strange space in his mouth where there didn’t use to be one before. He sticks the tip of his tongue into the gap there, and his mom rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

“Maybe that’s because of all the candy you ate at Halloween,” she says, and leans over to ruffle his hair. “It’s not good for you!”

“Danny in my class already lost three teeth,” Will mopes, “and he got three dollars from the tooth fairy, so maybe if mine fall out too–”

“The tooth fairy will refuse to give you money because you let your teeth rot on purpose,” Joyce says, and Will slumps into the chair next to her, pouting. “It goes against the tooth fairy laws.”

Will might only be six, but he knows that there’s no such thing as tooth fairy laws. There can’t be rules just for one person. That’s ridiculous. He tucks the lollipop from earlier into his pocket before his mom can see, though. Just in case. “What’s the candy for?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow,” his mom says, walking over to the kitchen and opening the fridge door. “Your class is having a party, and these are for your friends.”

Will frowns. “What’s– Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s a holiday about celebrating the people you love.” Joyce emerges with a loaf of bread and a few slices of cheese. “Grilled cheese okay for dinner?”

They’ve had grilled cheese for about four days in a row now, but Will doesn’t mind. His mom makes them perfect. He nods. “Yeah!” 

“You have to eat the crusts this time,” she says. “Don’t think I didn’t see you throw them away last time.”

Shoot. So close.

“Fine,” Will agrees, then leans over to pluck another candy out of the bag. It’s pink this time. He thinks it might be strawberry-flavored. Will isn’t the biggest fan of strawberry, but candy is candy after all.

“I heard that,” his mom chides, back still turned to him, as the candy wrapper crinkles loudly under his fingers. “Put the candy back, Will.”

No! So close again. Will scowls at the traitorous sweet in his hand and tosses it back in the bag. “How did you even hear that?”

“I have superpowers, remember?” Joyce points to her ears and shoots him a wink. She’s probably right, Will thinks glumly. His mom has ears on the back of her head– or whatever it is they say.

“Why do my kids in my class get candy and I don’t?” 

“They’ll give you candy too,” Joyce assured him, flipping a sandwich over in the pan. “That’s the whole point! You trade candy and Valentine’s Day cards.”

Cards? “What kind of cards?”

“You can look in the bag. I picked some of those up on the way back from work.”

Will sticks his arm bag in the bag and shuffles it around, until soft cellophane gives way to the sharp edge of cardstock. He pulls one out– “Be mine,” he reads aloud, then wrinkles up his nose in confusion. “Huh?”

“Cheesy, huh?” Joyce slides a plate in front of him, and smiles. “Speaking of cheesy–”

Dinner! Will’s stomach rumbles, and in the face of a perfectly made grilled cheese sandwich, thoughts of Valentine’s Day slip instantly out of his mind. 

—

They don’t stay out for long, though.

“Jonathan?”

Jonathan’s room door is open, and he has his back to the door, but he turns around as Will peers through the doorway. “Oh. Hey, Will.”

Will shuffles his feet, hesitating. Is this a stupid question to ask? Surely Jonathan won’t think he’s stupid. Jonathan never thinks Will is stupid, even when Will asks dumb questions or says dumb things or acts super annoying. “What’s Valentine’s Day?” he blurts out.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Maybe Jonathan doesn’t know. That’s a weird thought, though, because Jonathan knows everything. He’s in third grade now, which seems big and grown up and far away. It’s old enough for your grade to have an actual number. Not like kindergarten, which Jonathan says is, like, zero grade. “Valentine’s Day,” Will says again. Mom had been so vague about it, and he’s still not sure what’s up with the lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe Jonathan can help. “What is it?”

“Um,” Jonathan says. “It’s– the holiday of love, I guess?”

Oh. That’s lame. “Ew,” Will says, making a face. “That’s gross.”

“Tell me about it,” Jonathan sighs. “Why are you asking?”

“I have to celebrate with my class tomorrow,” Will sighs. “And mom got candy but I’m not allowed to eat any.”

Jonathan makes a sympathetic noise. “Lame.”

“I know!” Will exclaims. “And I don’t even– love anybody. Gross.”

“Well,” Jonathan says thoughtfully, “it doesn’t have to be love love. It can be, um. Any kind of special somebody.”

“Special somebody?” That’s a weird thing to call someone. “Huh?”

“You know. Is there someone special to you? Someone you really like?”

Will likes a lot of people. His teacher is really nice. He likes mom’s boss at the store, because sometimes he lets Will pick out a piece of candy from the display. He likes Jonathan, and he likes his mom, of course. But people who are special–

“Mike,” Will decides immediately. It’s an obvious choice, because Will hadn’t ever had best friends before Mike came into his life earlier this year. They do everything together– playing at recess, eating lunch, sleeping over at each other’s house. The other kids in the class even talk about them like they’re one person– MikeandWill– which makes Will smile. It’s nice to feel like he’s a part of something. Mike is special. Mike makes him feel special.

Something funny happens to Jonathan’s face, super fast, and then it goes back to normal. “There you go,” he says, then nods. “You can make something for Mike.”

“Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know. Draw him a card?”

“Mom already bought cards,” Will sighs.

“Make him a special one,” Jonathan shrugs. “Because he’s– um. Your special somebody.”

Will grins, wide enough that he knows his missing tooth gap is showing. Sue him. He thinks it’s cool, even if Jonathan has, like, five of them and doesn’t care. “Thanks, Jonathan!”

“Uh, yeah!” Jonathan sounds a little confused as he calls after him, but Will is already on his way to his own room. “You’re welcome!”

When Will gets back to his room, he pulls out his crayons and his paper, sits down at his desk, and–

He stops.

Oh no.

What is he supposed to put on a card? For Mike, especially, who’s one of the coolest people Will knows. What if he thinks it’s lame? What if he doesn’t want a card? What if whatever Will makes is so boring and awful that Mike laughs?

Will shakes his head. No, he thinks. Mike won’t laugh at him. Mike would never laugh at him, and that’s why he’s so special– everyone else laughs at Will, sometimes, about his clothes or his hair or the way he talks. But Mike doesn’t. Mike thinks he’s cool, and Mike thinks he’s fun, and Mike likes all the same stuff as he does– the kind of stuff that everyone else in their class thinks is lame but Mike doesn’t.

Will stares down at the blank sheet of colored paper. Blue, because Mike likes blue. And Will’s got a twenty-four pack of crayons and he doesn’t know what color to draw in, but everything else, the candies and the cards in mom’s bag, had been red or pink, so maybe Will should draw in red or pink too. And– everything else had, like, hearts on it, so maybe he can start there.

“For Mike,” Will says aloud, slowly and carefully, as he writes the words at the top of the paper. He’s pretty sure he spelled it right. He knows he’s got Mike’s name correct, at least. F-O-R. For. 

Yeah. That looks okay.

The heart is next. Will tries to make it big enough to take up most of the page, where the paper has been folded in half down the middle. It’s a little lumpy, but– yeah. You can totally tell it’s a heart.

Probably.

He opens the card to the inside, and pauses again. Great, he thinks, because what is he supposed to write on the inside? He’d already drawn a heart on the front, and it would probably be a little lame to draw another one on the inside.

“Think,” he groans out loud, putting the red crayon down and peering into the box. Half of them are broken, and some others are worn down to nubs, so it’s not even like he has a lot of options here.

What sort of stuff does Mike even like? Mostly the same stuff Will does, but then maybe that would be like Will is making a card for himself, and not for Mike. He looks at the paper some more, like maybe something will appear on it, fully-formed, if he stares long enough.

Nope. Nothing. 

Will sighs, and thinks harder.

Mike had liked that book they read in class last week– something about a knight rescuing a princess from a tower. Will hadn’t really been paying attention, because it was kind of boring and, like, sappy and about love, but Mike had been totally into it. Will had looked over during group reading time and his eyes had been huge and his jaw had been, like, on the floor. Will didn’t really get the appeal, because, again, it had been totally cheesy and sappy and gross. But Mike had found a stick at recess an hour later and brandished it like a sword, and Will had been too busy laughing to properly express how lame he thought the whole thing was.

It wasn’t lame when Mike did it, though. That’s why Mike is special– nothing’s lame when he does it.

Will picks up a crayon. He has an idea.

—

Don’t think it’s lame, Will prays, fighting every instinct in his body that’s telling him to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath. Please don’t think it’s lame.

Mike hasn’t said anything yet. Maybe he really does think it’s lame.

Will is starting to wish that maybe the asphalt of the playground could just open up and swallow him whole. Mike totally thinks it’s lame. Maybe Mike didn’t even want a card. Maybe Mike is weirded out. Maybe Mike–

“Did you really make this?”

Will blinks. Mike doesn’t sound weirded out. He sounds– impressed? Maybe?

“Um. Yes,” he says anyway. Mike’s eyes are wide where he’s staring at the card in front of him, and Will holds his breath after all– just a little– for one second, then two, then–

“Will!” Mike says, face breaking out into the biggest smile Will has literally ever seen him smile. “This is awesome!”

Oh, thank god. “Really?” Will can’t keep the relief out of his voice when he asks.

“Yeah!” Mike nods rapidly, never once taking his eyes off the paper. “This is awesome!”

“You already said that,” Will points out, but he’s smiling now too. “You really don’t think it’s lame?”

“No way!” Mike points at the crayon outline of a figure against the blue paper. “Is that me?”

“Duh,” Will says, pointing to where he had drawn an arrow and written Mike. Just in case there was any confusion. “It’s you as the knight. From the story.”

“I love the knight from the story,” Mike announces, and Will immediately feels like a million pounds of weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Thank god. 

“I know,” Will giggles. “You almost killed me with the stick you were waving around.”

Mike gasps. “Excuse you. It was a sword.”

“Sure,” Will says. “Okay. It was a sword.”

Mike looks like he’s going to say something else, and then he stops. He shakes his head. His voice is quieter now when he says, “You really made this for me?”

Will doesn’t know why they keep coming back to this. Obviously he made this for Mike. That’s why he’d labeled the drawing with his name. Mike. He’d meant for that to help, in case there was any confusion, but maybe he hadn’t labeled it well enough. Maybe two arrows next time. Or maybe he should add Mike’s last name, just in case Mike thought he made it for the other Mike in their class. “Duh,” he says again, because he isn’t sure what about this Mike isn’t understanding. “It’s for– Valentine’s Day.”

Mike goes a little pink. Will’s not sure why, because they’ve been sitting in one spot for all of recess so far, and Mike hasn’t been running around at all. “Really?”

“Jonathan said I should make a card for someone special.” Will tugs nervously at the zipper on his jacket. Why is he nervous? It’s only Mike. “And I think you’re special.”

Mike’s mouth drops open. He closes it, then opens it again, in an excellent imitation of their class goldfish Bubbles. “Really?”

Maybe Mike’s words just aren’t working today. Will feels like that a lot. He gets it. “Duh,” he says, for the third and hopefully final time. “You’re my best friend.”

“Wow,” Mike breathes out. “You’re an awesome artist, Will.”

“Really?”

Okay, maybe it’s Will’s turn for his brain to stop working. He’s not sure what’s so awesome about his drawing. You can barely even tell it’s Mike.

“Um, yeah,” Mike stares, like this is obvious or something. “You can totally tell it’s me! No one else in our class can draw this good. You should do it more. I think you could get, like, famous or something.”

Will doesn’t know about all that, but something warm and fuzzy is swelling up inside him anyway. Surprised and pleased at the praise. “Oh. Thanks, Mike.”

“I wish I made you something,” Mike says sadly, still staring down at the card, like he’s trying to absorb it with his eyes. “My mom just made me get the ones from the store for everyone.”

“It’s okay!” Will smiles. Really, he doesn’t need a card from Mike. He’s just happy Mike liked it.

“You can have my Reese’s,” Mike offers. He doesn’t fold the card up and put it in his pocket like Will thought he might, but holds it carefully in both hands and looks over at him, eyes wide. “Someone gave me one for our candy exchange, but I think you like them more than me.”

Will grins. “Okay!”

Mike hesitates, then suddenly, moves forward and throws his arms around Will’s shoulders. It’s sudden enough for Will to stumble backwards, a little caught off-guard by the puffy weight of Mike’s jacket and body against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Will,” Mike says. “You’re my best friend too.”

[rreskk]

PLEASE could I request some angst with fluff at the end with Trevor?? Like maybe they’re fighting then make up in the end?

Whooooop, WHOOOOOOOOOP. You've ordered yourself a hot cup of tea.

Summary: Trevor's neglectful treatment was finally brought up and he couldn't help but pour his heart out.

TW: -Mentions of drugs. -Angst (mental illness).

Word count: 1325

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

“Why won’t you fuckin’ talk to me?” Trevor stood at the doorway of your kitchen. He watched as you attempted to ignore him by washing the dishes.

That morning had been a living Hell. He woke up hung-over after a meth-induced rampage. Who knew that 5 days straight of pure speed would leave him like a lifeless zombie the morning after no use. He was rude, unpleasant, lazy, neglectful.

Now, you knew he would never mean anything so harmful. He was emotional, you knew that. He was sensitive and completely lacking control of his intrusive urges, yet this time blew it.

You wanted to spend the day together. Usually he was more than happy to, but this morning, he made a pathetic excuse while also commenting how “annoying” you were being. All you did was wait for him to wake and ask for a day out. No way did you expect him to take it offensively. Trevor would make assumptions that you were trying to distract his life-style and business. You were shocked to find that he accused you of taking away his sense of pride and succession, all while being grouchy and refusing to acknowledge the kindness you were offering. No excuse changed is mind. He spent all morning slumped in bed, drinking the left-over beer he’d hide under the bed or the cold pizza from your night-stand. Whenever you passed the room…

It stunk.

Cigarettes, booze, filth.

The urge to kick him out was huge, yet you knew his strength and anger. He wouldn’t leave so easily.

That left it to present time as he finally exited the bedroom after all day without hearing you knock nor call his name. It was funny. He was so used to being babied and loved that when he all disappeared, he’d come out in a huff.

“Why won’t you fuckin’ talk to me?” Trevor stood at the doorway of your kitchen. He watched as you attempted to ignore him by washing the dishes.

A glass almost fell as you were startled at the sound of his voice. You caught it, placed it aside, hesitantly turning round. You were surprised to see him in a change of clothes – still dirty – typical behaviour.

“What’s wrong with you, eh? Why you been moping around for?” He’d grumble again, walking closer.

“I thought you wanted to be alone.” You bluntly said in a cold, stern voice.

Trevor flinched at the audacity you apparently had. He tilted his head and stared intensely into your eyes, inspecting a lie.

“When did I fuckin’ say that?”

“You made it clear this morning.”

He scoffed with disbelief, “Seriously? You’re so sensitive.”

And you’d giggle at how wrong he was. You shook your head and pointed a finger at yourself.

“Oh, I’m not sensitive. I wasn’t pissed until you accused me of distracting your way of life. You called me ungrateful! I’ve been nothing but supportive and you know damn well.”

“Oh, for fucks sake…” Trevor rubbed his face, “So you’re pissed off ‘cause I’m being honest.”

“Honest? What about that is honest? You can run around smoking meth, yeah, yeah. You know what?”

“What?” He snapped back, his fists clenching.

“I preferred when you were high on meth. At least then, you were more fucking bearable to make love with, to spend time with, to talk to. You weren’t so fucking grumpy or an asshole! I don’t care if you weren’t ‘yourself’ or whatever. At least when you were high, you were the man I once loved!”

Your words had left him frozen. Trevor stared at you, mouth left open. He left the silence undisturbed, clearly lacking an argument considering you just poured your heart out.

“I know it’s a bad thing to confess but I can’t help it, Trevor. Whenever you are sober, you just… Hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He tried to act angry still, but you could tell he was losing his ability to keep up that grumpy exterior.

“What’s the big deal then? Why am I such a bother? Why am I a sudden burden to your business? All I ever ask is to spend time.” You held your breath in case of a waterfall, feeling your eyes get glassier.

Trevor stuttered but responded with nothing. He looked down at his feet, his scowl turning into an irritated, sorrowful frown.

“You know I love you, so much. But I’m not going to make an effort if you aren’t going to accept it.” You finally said.

“Stop, don’t say that.”

“It has to be said.”

“[y/n], c’mon…” He whispered, “I swear… I swear to God, I don’t mean it. You’re overthinking, why don’t you come back to the bed with me – “

“So what? We can make up by fucking? I do love our time together intimately, but I’m not asking for it. I’m asking for an apology. Words, Trevor. I need your words of affirmation.”

“I…”

The silence between you both was extremely uncomfortable. You swore that if he wouldn’t speak in the next 60 seconds, you’d call it over. You wanted honesty and assurance. Right now? He wasn’t giving you it.

“Listen, baby, you gotta understand…” Trevor murmured, “I’m sorry. I am, okay? I know, I’m a fuckin’ asshole. I don’t like being sober, I got a headache, I feel guilty. Yeah, yeah. You got me. I feel guilty, okay? You happy? I’m fuckin’ guilty as charged.”

“Trevor, why do you act – “

“I don’t know why I act like such a cunt when sober! I’m so fuckin’ used to being high that when I ain’t got that speed in me, I have no fuckin’ energy. I love you, [y/n], fuck. How many times do I have to say it? I love you too much, it hurts. I want to spend time with you but, I swear to fuck, I just gotta recharge. I know I’ll end up saying something so goddamn stupid ‘cause I’m a fuckin’ baby. I’m so worthless, I hate myself!” You watched him chant out self-oppressed insults that aimed at his insecurities. You watched him defeat himself, beating himself down. You sighed when he protested many times that he hated everything about him.

“Trevor…” You attempted to calm him by offering a hug which he accepted within a heartbeat.

He broke down crying. Maybe his background of being accused as a burden, a problem, a mistake – it made him super sensitive when it came to apologising, which is why he never did. However, this one time, he showed why. Trevor sobbed against your chest, begging for his mother, begging for you to forgive him (unlike his mother did).

“C’mon,” You whispered and caressed his back, “Deep breaths.”

“I’m sorry! – “

“I love you, very much. Deep breaths, baby. C’mon.”

He panted with tear stains streaming down his cheeks, “I don’t deserve you!”

“Trevor,” You held his cheeks, “I love you. Come on, hug me. You love our hugs, don’t you?”

“They are the best…” He nodded, embraced in your arms.

“That’s right. They are the best hugs ever. I wouldn’t want to hug anyone but you, you know that?”

“No…”

“C’mon, you know that!” You’d giggle and lightened the situation.

Trevor grinned slightly when you teased him. He hid his face in your shoulder to avoid embarrassment.

“Where you going?” You smiled down at him.

“Don’t be mad at me anymore.” Whispered the broken man in your arms.

“I’m not mad anymore. I just want you to be happy, yeah? You’re a beautiful man. We all have our flaws.”

“You don’t know me…” He muttered with a hidden smile.

“I know you more than you know yourself, boy. Now… Why don’t we go rest?”

Trevor didn’t say anything but dragged you down the hallway. You sighed, he hasn’t lost his sense of neediness, that’s for sure.

“Let’s go.” You softly said, smiling.

“Do you really prefer when I’m high?” He’d mention as you both entered the room.

“I prefer when you seem energetic and happy, Trev. I love when you smile and jump around.”

“Do you want me to smoke met – “

“NO!”