#so now the idea of knowing it exists and never being able to watch it is SO SAD

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

Okay starving dorky Hector enjoyer fluff nation, I’m like halfway through my current fic but I’m SUPER rusty on fic writing, college put all of that on hold for like four years so talk to me babes, tell me what you think my darlins, I will continue chipping away at this beast of a fic that doesn’t need to be such a beast <3

Btw this fic is intended to be for a male reader, as I am a gay man. I’m sorry girlies. The boys hunger for content </3

FIC PREVIEW BELOW!! IT IS NOT DONE YET!!

At the start of spring, you’d received the Dateviators.

Everything flew by in a blur after that, all season long. Love, friendship… maybe a bit of hate… somehow all culminating in at least 100 people moving out of your house (you had no idea they’d even been living there) to go live their best human lives.

All but one, that is.

You can hear the steady sound of pacing from upstairs as you sit at your desk. You sigh and smile to yourself, looking at the vent on the wall.

There was no longer a mysterious, husky-voiced stranger with soft hands and even softer eyes who would appear behind the grate. Only a week ago you were holding his hands through the grate, listening to him talk about what he would do with his new human life when he was Realized, while you silently prepared for the possibility that he might leave and never come back when it happened.

Another set of footsteps from upstairs.

You don’t know why you were worried. Why would the man who pined in the shadows with all his heart as he watched you exist on a plane he should have never been able to reach himself ever leave you behind? No, Hector had indeed begun to live his own human life like all the other household items did—but he had been determined to spend it with you.

Things had been going well for the last week. Hector was very hesitantly leaving the house, almost always with you, but on the rare occasions he wandered out alone he often came back with a spark in his eye and a hundred new creative ideas he was ready to tell you about. Just the other day, he’d discovered a small, local costume shop in town and had been absolutely taken by the ornate, handmade masks he’d found there. He was telling you all about wanting to make one of his own, how he loved the idea of what a mask like that could do for his own self-expression…

Then the summer heat set in, and Hector had seemingly forgotten all his creative pursuits.

You can hear him pace the floor upstairs yet again. It’s a clear pattern he has. The bedroom. Four minutes. The bathroom. Four minutes. The gym. Four minutes. The attic. Nine minutes. Back to the bedroom again, and the cycle begins anew. He’s been at it for nearly two hours. Occasionally, between the attic and the bedroom, he’d end up downstairs and stare at the thermostat like he wanted to burn a hole through it.

The AC was very steadily driving him batty.

It was hard to tell what the inner life of any object was like, and what it was like doing… object things, if those tasks were difficult, or perhaps just second nature. But in Hector’s case, he apparently ran a very tight ship. If heating and cooling were natural or simple functions, there was some kind of art to doing them correctly—an art which the now very inanimate HVAC unit had no respect for.

You hadn’t anticipated it being that big of a deal to him, but when he passed by the living room and saw you fanning yourself with a magazine after merely moving the laundry basket downstairs, he looked like he was about to cry.

Even when you’d tried to stop him and get him to talk about what had him so antsy, he wouldn’t pause. That was when you’d realized it was serious—when did Hector not have something to say, good with words as he was?

You tried asking him what had him so bothered. You got a half-answer: “Oh, my love, it’s just too hot, I need to…” and then he scurried off.

You followed him around for a while to see what he was looking at, if there was anything you could help him with. He’d just go from vent to vent, then the central machine in the attic, all of which looked nothing but normal to you. But clearly he was something you weren’t, and he was growing uncharacteristically agitated until he noticed you shadowing him, and he immediately turned meek before he shooed you away. “Go sit down, my love, p-please! Take things easy!”

You asked again—this time, direct, about what was wrong with the AC to him. If last time was a half answer, what you got next was a quarter-answer. Hector just shook his head, running a hand through his hair and mumbled: “don’t worry, I’m—I’m taking care of it…” before wandering off again.

You’re beginning to worry the only thing that could stop this is physically grabbing him and forcing him to sit down and relax , but that option seems far too risky. Poor Hector wouldn’t appreciate being manhandled; he might even spiral harder if you have to hold him down like that.

You glance over to the foyer when you hear him coming down the stairs. His shirt is off now. Oh Hector.

“Hector,” you begin, standing up from the couch. “Baby, why’d you take your shirt off?”

Hector looks at you, his face blotchy and red. “I-Isn’t it… isn’t it hot in here?” he panted.

You furrow your brow. “I mean, it feels pretty normal. It is summer, so it’s a bit toasty, but not—“

“You don’t need to spare my feelings!” he snaps. “It’s bad, I know it’s unbearable! I-I’m trying to fix it, I really am!”

He stares back at the thermostat, uselessly tapping at it before he lets out a gurgly little sob that’s trying to be a growl.

“Hey! Hey,” you hurry over to him and put your hands on his shoulders, ignoring how slick with sweat his skin is. “Hector, stop. Really. Come sit down with me.”

It seems like he wants to protest, but that thought dies before he can verbalize it. Instead, he just hangs his head and lets you walk him over to the couch. You briefly consider grabbing a towel to clean him up a bit, but as insistent as he’s been about monitoring the AC, you aren’t sure if he’ll go right back to it when you turn away. You take his hands, just like you did when they were the only things you knew him by. Even if he isn’t looking at you, you know he likes this. You’ve figured out a tell of his, when he’s enjoying himself. He ever so subtly leans forward, and he’s doing it now. You wonder if it’s a carry-over from the vents, if he ever pressed himself up to the grates to try and get closer to you when you held his hands then, and you just never noticed at the time.

”Really, Hector,” you say firmly, and don’t continue until you can see him peering at you as he tries to keep his head down. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He stays silent, and you try not to let your frustration show—it’s just hard, seeing him worry himself sick and stay close-lipped about it all the while. But you remind yourself he’s not being difficult on purpose, that he’s trying, that learning to accept others’ care, not just provide it himself, is hard.

Provide it himself.

Something clicks. It seems obvious now. “Hector? Is not providing the AC anymore stressing you out?”

”What?” he immediately looks up at you. “I—no, I mean…”

He trails off and looks to the side. He does that, you’ve noticed, when he’s looking for something to say. It would be cute, if he wasn’t so stressed.

“That’s part of it, I suppose.”

You see his chest slowly fall, and his shoulders slump with it. Some realization flickers behind his tired eyes, as if taking his first real deep breath all day finally lets his jumble of thoughts fall into place.

”Nothing feels… right…” he pulls his hands away from yours and hugs himself. “The temperature is wrong, you’re hot—“

”I am hot,” you grin at him, trying to lighten the mood.

Hector blushes powerfully and tries to hide his head in his shoulders. “Not what I meant—I mean, you are, I-I just—“

You touch his cheek and feel him shudder. He savors your touches like a man starved. “Sorry. That was a bad time to make that joke.”

[captainswan618]

Does anyone know where I can watch Heart to Heart (2020)? It's a short where David Tennant plays the talking heart of a 21-year-old lesbian and tries to help her get together with her crush. It sounds so cute and I can't find it anywhere 😭😭😭

[beloveds-embrace]

(A bit more of feral reader x poly 141 bc i genuinely have no idea how I’ll be putting it all together lmfao)

The nightmare begins as it always does- dark, suffocating, thick with the stench of sweat, rot, and filth. The walls are damp and the air is heavy, pressing down on you like a weight you can never escape. Distant voices murmur beyond the metal door, the sharp cadence of a language you barely understand, but their meaning is clear. You know what comes next. You know what they want.

But they don’t get it.

They don’t get anything. Not this time. Never again.

The first body drops before the alarm is even raised. His throat opens up beneath the knife you’d stolen like a torn seam, spilling warmth down your fingers, and yet it doesn’t feel like victory. It doesn’t feel like the justice you’d prayed for.

It feels like- breathing for the first time. The next one claws at your face, his nails raking across your skin as you drive the knife up, under his ribs, twisting until he stops moving. The blood is hot, splattering against your clothes, against your arms, against the inside of your mouth as you bite down on the hand that tries to silence you.

You don’t stop. You can’t. Freedom is too close to let go of, and you don’t care for the red that begins to paint everything in your vision.

You carve through them like an animal, like something that was never meant to be human in the first place. The walls are slick with red, the floor a graveyard of the ones who thought they could own you. The screams fade into silence, and in the end, there is nothing left of them but ruin.

Yet, when you step into the cold night, into the world beyond their grasp, you don’t feel free.

You feel empty.

You feel wrong.

And you never stop feeling that way.

You wake in silence.

Your breathing is slow, measured, trained into something calm and controlled despite the chaos still and constantly thrumming through your body. The muzzle is tight around your face, pressing into your jaw, a familiar weight you should be used to by now. The collar is snug against your throat, a cold band of control that denies you even the simplest of instincts. There is no comfort in scent, no safety in familiarity- just the stale, lifeless sterility of a world that refuses to let you be.

It’s either this, or being put down like an animal.

The room is dim, the soft hum of the temporary base’s lights above barely cutting through the darkness. You don’t move. You don’t shake or shudder or gasp for air like someone who just clawed their way out of a nightmare. You simply exist, the way you always do.

But they see.

Price is already awake, seated across from you with sharp eyes that take in everything- the way your fingers press into the thin blanket, the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your breaths come just a fraction too quickly before you rein them in. He doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches, the quiet weight of his presence grounding in a way that words never could be.

Soap notices next, his own sleep-lightened expression sharpening when he sees you sitting so stiffly on the cot. He’s up before he even thinks about it, his movements quick but not rushed, careful as if not to startle you. He doesn’t touch, doesn’t get too close, but his scent- warm, soothing, meant for pack- lingers just within reach like always.

And it always means nothing.

Because you can’t smell it.

Not through the collar’s inhibitors, not through the steel and leather of the muzzle that keeps you locked away from the most fundamental part of what it means to be.

Soap’s jaw tenses, and for a moment, his hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach for you, like he wants to offer something, anything, to ground you the way a normal Omega should be able to. He knows that if he could just scent you, if he could press his cheek to yours and let you feel something real, the weight of the nightmare might ease.

But he can’t.

He lets out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax even though everything in him hates this- hates what they’ve done to you, hates that they treat you like a machine instead of a person, hates that he can’t even offer the smallest comfort because of those damned restraints.

Ghost lingers near the door, silent but watchful. He sees it too. The tension in your frame, the way you haven’t moved since waking, like you’re still trapped somewhere else. His hands flex at his sides, his instincts clawing at him, demanding he do something, but what is there to do? Even if he sat next to you, even if he pressed his forehead against yours and let you feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, you wouldn’t get the reassurance it was meant to give. The muzzle makes sure of that.

Gaz is the last to stir, but he reads the room quickly, taking in the way everyone else is coiled tight with unspoken frustration. His expression shifts, softens, but there’s anger there too- not at you, never at you, but at the situation. At the rules that keep them from offering what should be natural, what should be easy.

“You okay?” Soap asks finally, his voice gentle but firm, trying to draw you out without pushing too hard.

You don’t respond.

Not because you don’t want to, but because the words feel useless and pointless. The muzzle makes speaking difficult- deliberately so- and lately, you’ve stopped trying. It’s not worth the effort when no one really wants to hear you outside of battlefields anyway.

Soap sighs quietly, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Bad night?”

Still, you say nothing, but your fingers tighten slightly around the blanket, and that’s answer enough.

Price leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, expression unreadable. “Do you dream often?”

It’s an innocent question, but it settles in the air like something heavier.

Dreaming isn’t something that belongs to you anymore. Dreams are for people who have something left to hope for, something left to chase beyond survival. You aren’t sure what yours mean anymore- if they’re just memories trapped in your skull, or if they’re something worse, something rotting in the places you can’t reach.

Still, Price doesn’t look away. None of them do. They wait, giving you space, giving you time, even if they can’t give you what they truly want to.

It’s frustrating how much you can feel them, how badly they want to comfort you the way pack should. Their scents are muted, diluted by the inhibitors, but they’re there and lingering beneath the surface and desperate to reach you. You don’t know that if you were free, if you weren’t locked behind the military’s restrictions, they’d already be curled around you, offering the warmth and safety that’s been denied to you for so long.

But instead, they sit there, helpless.

And you sit there, silent, unsure what to say in answer.

The tension lingers, thick and unspoken, before Gaz shifts slightly, breaking the heavy quiet. “Here,” he murmurs, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out something small, something smooth and solid, and presses it into your palm- a small stone, worn from being turned over in his hands countless times before. A grounding point. A tether.

You stare at it, unmoving, before your fingers finally curl around it.

And for now, that’s enough.

It has to be.

[hxney-lemcn]

Affection — NRC Students x gn! reader

summery: what is being affectionate with your fav like?

tw: bad parents (Riddle, Leona (?), Jamil (?)), angsty (Riddle, Leona, Ruggie (kinda), Jamil, Idia, Ortho, Malleus (kinda)).

a/n: A lot of these are based on my own headcanons (Jade).

wc: 2.6k (~100 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

Growing up his mother didn’t give him much affection. He wasn’t treated like a child, more like a trophy. Something you keep just out of reach, something you only lay your eyes on. Riddle is terribly touch starved and doesn’t know it. So when you start showing him acts of affection he has no idea how to handle it. What does he do? When is it okay to do these acts? Don’t mind how stiff he is when you hug him or how red he turns if you hold hands. It's something he’s never felt before, and you have unlocked something deep inside Riddle that had been tucked away. So please, give him another hug would you? It helps slowly heal something in him he didn’t know was broken. 

❥ Trey Clover

Trey is a total sweetheart. He doesn’t mind affection at all. Growing up with siblings, he’s used to hugging and hand holding. Whether you're affectionate out the gate or need a little coaxing, it's like Trey instinctively knows. He’ll ask before doing anything, asking for consent, getting to know your boundaries. If you don’t like affection, that’s fine with him, if you only like being affectionate behind closed doors he doesn’t mind. Just know that Trey loves any and all forms of affection you show him, no matter how big or little. He cherishes you, and he’ll show you that in any form you prefer. 

❥ Cater Diamond

We all know Cater doesn’t mind hanging off you out in public. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, you name it, he’s probably done it. What he doesn’t want people knowing is how tiring it is for him to keep up that facade. Although, when it comes to you he doesn’t even register half the things he does. You’re like a magnet that pulls him in. Though, his favorite forms of affection are behind closed doors, just the two of you, no camera. Whether it be you two existing in the same room, or you laying on his chest or vice versa, those are his favorite moments. He doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to put on a mask to make others happy because he is happy with you. 

❥ Deuce Spade

Even though Deuce’s mom has showered him with affection growing up, he’s still shy about it. His image before was a punk, and now he’s trying to be an honor student. So if you ever hug him or try to hold his hand his face will flame up and he won’t be able to meet your eyes. He’s a gentleman though, through and through. Always makes sure you're comfortable even if you’re the one who initiated. He’s not too picky when it comes to affection…but he does prefer if you do it behind closed doors. He loves your kisses, but he doesn't love Ace teasing him about it.

❥ Ace Trappola

Oh boy. Ace is a little gremlin. He acts like your affection doesn’t do anything, acts all smug like you're lucky for being able to hold his hand. All the while his mind is melting and the bright blush on his face gives his true feelings away. I wouldn’t say he’s exactly touch starved, but he does crave your affection. When he became a teen he stopped hugging his parents ‘cus his brother would make fun of him otherwise. He crafted his unbothered persona, and didn’t realize how much he missed hugging until you gave him one. He rarely initiates, but sometimes he crumbles.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

He’s another one who didn’t grow up with much affection, always watching as his older brother Falena got all the praise. He’s bitter, seeing affection as a weakness, like showing your underbelly to your predator. Being soft got you nowhere in the animal kingdom…but he did enjoy it when you played with his hair or kissed his cheek. It left an odd warm feeling to fill him, making him grumble about your idiocy. Deep down, he was scared about how much he enjoyed your affection, scared he’d be upstaged once more and you’d find someone else to love. So he’ll just make sure that doesn’t happen, ‘cus there’s no one better than him after all.

❥ Ruggie Bucchi

Where he’s from, showing affection is like putting a target on your back. It shows a weakness that someone could take advantage of. This is why Ruggie is so skittish at first, always making an excuse to run away if you go to hug him, your hands brush and he’s lifting his hands up to his head (y’know that one position). But once he warms up, realizes you won’t snatch his food and run like a thief, he finds himself enjoying your embrace. It’s like heaven to lay his head in your lap as you feed him an orange. How your hands trace his face so lovingly, like trash like him is actually worth something.

❥ Jack Howl

Jack is a bit awkward when it comes to affection. He’s closed off, but his tough personality does melt away to reveal a heart of gold. He doesn’t mind if you hold his hand, just please don’t mention the pink that tints his cheeks. He does enjoy when it's just the two of you, he feels more relaxed, like he can actually take in your warmth. His hugs might be a bit uncomfortable with all that muscle, but don’t tell him that ‘cus he might stop hugging you then :( On the bright side, you could sit on his back while he does push ups :) 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

This guy…you can’t even compliment him without him running away at first. Although Azul’s mom was almost over affectionate, he’s another one that gets shy at the thought of anything affectionate. He was ridiculed growing up, which made him sharpen his edges. He has a persona to uphold, he can’t be…clingy…oh is he clingy. Out in public it's only small acts, holding hands, hand resting on your lower back, kiss to the back of your hand. In private is a whole other story. Loves hugs, cuddling, kisses, staring at you. Azul doesn’t get much alone time, so the moments you have together behind closed doors he likes to use to his full advantage. Can you blame him? You looked so lovely all day, do you know how terrible it was to watch you without giving you a kiss?

❥ Jade Leech

Doesn’t really need affection, but finds it cute when you seek him out. He loves you, yes, but affection isn’t really his forte. He won’t deny you a kiss though, especially not when you pout so cutely. Jade’s more of a tease, due to the fact that he doesn’t mind a lack of affection, he finds it hilarious to watch you long for it. He’ll brush his hand against yours, but won’t hold it. He’ll lean in close to your face only to whisper in your ear. He’ll gently brush his fingers over your cheek…only to pinch it. But if you're feeling down, he won’t hesitate to whisk you somewhere private and hold you close. He does love you after all. 

❥ Floyd Leech

Another oh boy. His ‘affection’ can seem less like affection and more like torture. He won’t go easy on you either. In fact, he’ll probably squeeze you tighter due to his cute aggression. Floyd, unlike Jade, loves, loves, loves hugging, holding, squeezing. Then you opened him to the world of kissing, biting. Good luck with that. Most of the time he’s all over you, in public or in private, he doesn’t care, if he wants to nibble on you he’s gonna nibble on you. If you’re uncomfy with that he’ll try to tone it down (will he?), but he will probably forget and do it anyway. If he’s in a sour mood he won’t seek out affection, but if you do the right thing it might make him feel a little better…but be careful.

❥ Kalim Al Asim

He gives so many hugs it makes Jamil want to bash his head in. Do you know how many ways Kalim could get killed with how trusting he is? Expect hugs, hand holding, pulling, cheek kisses, and giggling. He’s not afraid to show the world how much he loves you, and he loves affection! When you show him affection though…get ready for a giggly, blushy, kicking his feet in the air Kalim. He’s so used to being the one giving affection he forgot what it's like to receive it. Yeah a lot of his siblings love him…but a lot have also tried to assassinate him so… Jamil finds you to be a double edged sword, as you tend to keep Kalim reigned in…but he also goes crazy over you.

❥ Jamil Viper

Does not like it. Not at first. It takes a lot to earn his trust, and growing up he didn’t get much affection if any. So he doesn’t like it, it's a foreign feeling and it's just too much for him. Though gradually, he finds himself thinking about your touch, the way your fingers felt as your hands brushed, or wondering how soft it would be to hug you. He curses himself for becoming so weak, but those curses quiet down the second your arms hold him so sweetly. No pda, none whatsoever. But behind closed doors he's more willing to give in to your tender touches (not that he’d admit it).

❥ Vil Schoenheit 

Vil is picky about affection. There’s certain things that you can and can’t do during certain times. With the media always on his back, you can never be too careful about pda. He doesn’t want the world to hound you about your relationship with him, so he tends to keep things behind closed doors. He shows his affection in other ways to compensate, whether it be picking out your outfit or fixing your hair. He has become your personal stylist and you should be thankful. When it's just the two of you though, he becomes such a sap. Holds you so sweetly, trails of kisses, murmurs sweet nothings into your hair. Vil loves you and he won’t let you think otherwise.

❥ Rook Hunt

When doesn’t he show you affection? Flowery words trail after you as you walk to class. Kisses to the back of your hand trail up your arm. No one can outcompete Rook when it comes to admiring you. You could kill a man and he’d be singing your praises while hiding all evidence for you. What's surprising is how he acts when it's just you two alone. Although he is sincere with his usual flowery words, it feels more intimate when you both are alone. When he’s holding your close, staring at you so lovingly, whispering how much you mean to him? I get it Rook lovers, I’ve finally gotten it.

❥ Epel Felmier

Nuh-uh. Affection? That’s for losers! Don’t ask about how loving his grandparents are. Blushes profusely at even the smallest act and then scolds you. He’s a manly man and manly men don’t cuddle! Off topic but I’d love to go on a rant about toxic masculinity and how those stereotypes hurt men more and see how he reacts. Epel warms up to affection quickly, but only if he initiates in public. When it's just you two he’s more chill about it. Resting your head on his shoulder, having you wrap your arms around his, placing a kiss on his forehead—don’t tell anyone that last one…

❥ Idia Shroud

Poor, poor Idia. He only knows affection from Ortho, and after Ortho…once he became a technomantic humanoid Idia couldn’t hug him anymore. It reminded him that Ortho wasn’t…yeah so let's just say Idia is hella touch starved due to self isolation. So you have to slowly bring him out of his shell, revealing that old wound he’s left to fester and tending to it so gently. He can’t help but shiver every time you run your hands through his hair, or when you kiss his temple, or when your body heat seeps into him. Over time he comes to crave your affection, seeking you out but never outright stating what he wanted. Thankfully for him you always seemed to know what he needed. 

❥ Ortho Shroud

This poor boy pt 2. After he was created he didn’t really experience physical affection. With his bulky bodies and being made from metal, he wasn’t comfortable to hug. Ortho never thought about it much, although he was curious what affection felt like. So when you hugged him without a second thought he almost cried (if he could). Soaks up your affection like a sponge and reciprocates tenfold. He now hugs you as a greeting and holds your hand when you both are going somewhere. He can’t help it! Who knew affection was so nice! And since you're willing, he’ll always come to you if he needs someone to lean on.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Malleus knows of affection, but being the future king of Briar Valley and extremely powerful he only knows affection through Lilia and his grandmother. Lilia was super loving, don’t get me wrong, but Malleus could never shake that feeling of loneliness. The way people avoid him, how he’s always out of reach. Yet you…you were willing to listen to him and accompany him. So when you even touched him, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t well versed in means of affection, and human affection seemed even more strange. You didn’t just hold his hand, you’d lean on him, you wouldn’t just kiss his cheek, you’d boop him afterwards. Yet he thrived with anything you’d give him. Malleus is content with watching you eagerly, waiting for the next form of affection you’d show him.

❥ Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia isn’t afraid to show his affection, and more often than not it leaves his subordinates (children) embarrassed. So when you came along, you had become his willing victim. He shows his affection in less conventional ways. His favorite is scaring you, popping out at random like he was trying to put you into cardiac arrest. But he makes up for it by kissing your nose after. He’ll also cook for you…I pray for your sanity because he can be really sweet but it comes in underhanded ways. If you eat his food he’ll be over the moon…if you don’t he’ll pout. It’s up to you if you want to live or not.

❥ Silver Vanrouge

Growing up under Lilia’s wing did him some favors. He’s not against affection, he just never thought about it too much. He doesn’t mind if you hold his hand or if you kiss his cheek. His favorite is when you both cuddle. He’s a sleepy guy, so naturally this is the most common form of affection you both share. Even the animals will join you two. When he isn’t sleeping though, he’ll give you kisses on the back of your hand, guide you around, he’s your personal knight now. Although he does feel bad that he has to leave you a lot for his duty, he’ll always try to make it up to you at the end of the day.

❥ Sebek Zigvolt 

Nope. No affection allowed. Your eardrums will be shattered if you try. He’s another one who has to warm up to it. His parents are super loving, and he’s used to his mom always hugging him…but he stopped all that nonsense because he has to give his all to his Waka-sama. Sebek is so intense in his worship of Malleus he finds it indecent to even think of anything romantic/affectionate with you. But when you break him down, when you hug him so sweetly or kiss his cheek so softly…yeah he’s a goner. Deep down he craves for your affection, he loves it to a point it scares him. He felt his heart crack when he denied you once, the guilt in your eyes leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. He supposes he’ll allow you to hug him, but he’s still got a reputation to uphold.

[fenya-scribbles]

Hips

Network: @stayphone

Pairing: BFF!LeeKnow x fem!reader

Other Characters: Hyunjin

Summary: Dancing is a dangerous thing to do. 

Genre: best friends to lovers, smut, fluff, 18+ MDNI

Content warnings: explicit sexual themes, oral (f receiving), piv, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't be stupid)

Word Count: 3531

A/N: It took too damn long, but I finally finished it. Hope you enjoy ;)

"Please!", you draw out the word, giving your best friend the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. You've been begging him to let you sit in on his dance practice with the members for weeks now, but so far he'd refused every time. "No", he said, moving swiftly through his bedroom, packing his sports bag, “you’ll only distract the others.” "Come on, Min, just once! I just wanna see you sweat." You give him a suggestive grin from where you sit on his bed. It's not a lie either, you'd love to see him sweat. Maybe not from dancing, but still. 

Minho stopped his movements, focussing his eyes on you. You’ve been doing this for a while now, throwing lines like this at him. And his self-control started wearing thin, but you didn’t know that. Yet. “If I let you join today, will you promise to shut up about it?", he asked, eyebrows raised. He knew this was a stupid idea, but he also needed you to stop pestering him about it. You and him and dancing was a deadly combination, one that would test his restraint to no ends, but at least this way, he wouldn’t be alone with you. Because when he looked at you, he didn’t just see his best friend. He hadn’t for a long time. He saw a beautiful, witty, intelligent and devilishly attractive woman who’d stolen his heart. But he couldn’t tell you. He couldn’t risk your shared bond, he couldn’t risk losing you. 

Your heart leaped in your chest. Was this it? Had you finally worn him down? "Yes, I swear", you said, "just take me with you this one time and I'll shut up about it." You were most definitely never going to shut up about it. Watching him move through the world the way he did already sent your mind to unholy places, but watching him dance? In sweatpants? Surrounded by 7 equally as handsome men? No way you'd ever be able to shut up about that. Because you loved watching Minho in his element. You loved watching him cook and take care of his members in his own subtle way, you loved listening to him sing, you loved being around him, you just simply loved him. But alas, there was no way that would lead to anything, not if you didn’t want to risk the friendship. So you took what you could get. Dance practice. 

Minho sighed and said: "Fine. But behave yourself." You decided to pointedly ignore the way his command went straight to your core. You were less than successful, earning a sassy smirk from the man. “Shut up”, you said, pointing your finger at him. Minho knew that you found him attractive, you told him frequently. And he also knew about your subby tendencies, as much as you’d tried to hide them. But with the tension between the two of you and his urge to be in charge, especially around you, there had been no way to keep it to yourself. Minho was observant, he could read you like a book. Sometimes you wondered if he knew about the feelings you harboured for him, but since he never did anything about it, you figured it didn’t matter either way.

***

The drive was silent, but not uncomfortable. It was one of the things you loved about your friendship with Minho. You could just be quiet around each other, just exist in each other’s space comfortably. He was a good man and a great friend, and you cherished him with your whole heart. Watching him drive, eyes focused on the road and jaw slightly clenched in concentration, stirred something within you. The feeling was warm and soft and you urged to just grab his hand and be domestic. And your fingers twitched, but you held back after all, too scared to make a wrong move. It was one thing to blatantly flirt with him, you could always say you were just joking. But grabbing his hand? Now that would be more difficult to explain without putting your heart on the line.

When you arrived at the JYPE building, Minho turned to you after stopping the engine, eyes narrowed and locked with yours. “You know the rules?” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I know the rules.” “Then recount them.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “You heard me. Recount them.” Minho’s eyebrows were furrowed, creating that adorable crease between them and you had to stop yourself from smiling at him. He was utterly serious about this. “No distracting anyone from practice. No interruptions. No pictures or videos.” “Good”, he said with a nod, and then with a grin he added: “Now get out of my car.” You playfully punched his arm before getting out with a giggle. 

The practice room didn’t feel too big, but that might also just have been because of the 8 men that were scattered around it stretching themselves and each other. You quickly found that they took their warmups pretty seriously, so you just watched them from your spot on the bench, catching one or the other look at you from time to time. Hyunjin looked at you the most, and he grinned every time. He’d been the most excited about you walking in after Minho, and your best friend had given him a less than approving glance for it. But that was the usual thing to happen, Hyunjin liked to flirt with you just to tease Minho, although you didn’t quite understand why it worked. Minho never had returned your flirting in earnest, so why was he upset if Hyunjin did?

You kept to the rules, even though it was hard. You wanted to film them so bad, but alas, you decided not to pick a fight with Minho tonight. He’d never let you step foot in here again otherwise. Instead, you watched them dance, taking note of their muscles flexing and their hips rolling and their bodies spinning around. And as you had assumed, watching Minho dance was a transcendent experience. He looked so damn hot, the way he controlled his body, the way he instructed the others, the way that he was completely in his element. And it did something to your heart, to your mind, to your whole body. You didn’t even notice how hard you’d pressed your thighs together until they decided to take a break, and you let out an unintentionally shaky breath. 

“So, Y/N, are you enjoying yourself?”, Hyunjin asked as he sauntered over to you. “Mhm”, you hummed, eyes wandering over his sweat soaked body, “it’s quite the show.” “Really? What’s your favourite part?” He smirked at you, that signature playful glint in his eyes. Minho was standing not far off, drinking his water but never taking his eyes of Hyunjin and you. “Hmm”, you said, pretending to think about it, “I like that thing you do with your hips in the pre-chorus.” Hyunjin immediately did the move you were talking about. “This one?” You hummed affirmatively and bit your lip as you watched him roll his hips just a little too smoothly. “How do you even do that?”, you asked with a giggle, eyes nervously darting to Minho for a second. Your best friend was still watching you, like a cat watching a mouse. 

“I could teach you”, Hyunjin said, and with a short glance around, lingering on Minho a tad too long, he added: “Privately.” And that’s when Minho had enough. “Don’t be stupid, Hyunjin”, he said, taking a few steps towards you, “she’d only hurt herself.” You gasped and made a pretend-shocked face at him. “Ah, Hyung, you have no faith in me, huh? I bet I could teach her that move in no time.” Hyunjin winked at you, the grin on his face only widening. He clearly enjoyed this. “And I can put you into my air fryer in no time. Don’t forget who you’re talking to, dumpling.” At that, Hyunjin let out a giggle and threw up his arms in defence. “Alright, alright.” Then he turned to you. “Sorry, princess, no dance lessons for you, I fear.” And before anyone could say anything else, Chan clapped his hands ordering everyone to resume practice. 

***

“Why did you shut him down?”, you asked, as you lounged on Minho’s couch, lazily running your fingers through Soonie’s fur. The cat purred happily beside you, enjoying your gentle touch, while his owner sat in his armchair, Dori in his lap. Doongie was curled up by your feet, soundly asleep. “Shut who down?” “Hyunjin. About teaching me that move.” It had been two days since the dance practice and you’d tried to forget about it, but something about the situation had it suck in your head and you just couldn’t let it go. “Oh”, Minho said, eyes focused on the purring ball of fur in his lap, “you know how he is.” You raised your eyebrows at his non-answer. When you didn’t say anything he looked up, locking eyes with you. “I just don’t want him dancing with you”, he said, almost too quiet for you to hear. 

Your heart skipped a beat. Your hand stopped petting Soonie, as you processed what you just heard. The cat immediately protested, but you ignored him. Why not? You could ask. You could pry and push. But then, your brain went somewhere else. “You could teach me”, you said instead. “What?” “The move. You could teach me.” Minho blinked at you a few times, and then a smirk rushed over his face. It was only there for a second, but you’d seen it. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Y/N”, he said. “Oh, come on Min!” You pouted at him, eyes big for good measure. He squinted at you. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” “Never.” Minho sighed, knowing very well that this had the potential to end in catastrophe. “Fine, get up then.”

After helping Minho to rearrange his living room just enough to make space for dancing to happen, you found yourself standing in the middle of it, facing him. “So, what now?”, you asked. “Turn around.” You obeyed with a giggle. “Good. Now, you need to widen your stance. Like this.” Minho gently pushed your legs apart with his feet. “Now bend your knees.” You felt very grateful to your past self for attending those yoga classes, as you lowered yourself, bending your knees, keeping your wide stance. Just then, Minho circled you, assuming the same position opposite you. “And now you just have to roll your hips. Like this.” As you watched him move, you felt yourself blush, heat pooling at your core. It looked so damn hot and you couldn’t help but wonder what other things this man could do with his hips. 

But you forced yourself to return to reality, trying to imitate his movement. Minho had the absolute audacity to chuckle at your attempt. “Cute, but no”, he said, “let me help you.” He walked around you again, positioning himself behind you. Close behind you. So damn close, you could feel his body heat radiating against your back. The sheer lack of space between the two of you had the air shift drastically, a thick tension starting to build. He gently placed his hands on your hips, and you swallowed hard. “Move with me”, he said, voice low and so very close to your ear. And then he moved, gripping your hips a bit harder so he could steer them, his hips rolling behind yours. Slowly, you got into a rhythm, and out of sheer instinct, you started to lean back against his chest. “Good”, he purred, “you’re doing so good.” 

It was too much, he was too close, you were too whipped for him to simply endure this. And that’s when it slipped. “Min..” A short sigh, bordering on a moan, as your hips pushed back just a little too much, effectively grinding against him. Your heart stopped for a moment, your breath stuck in your throat, as you anticipated his reaction. He moved, straightening his legs, and you feared he would move away, break the tension, but his hands remained on your hips. His fingers dug into your sides for a second, then he pulled you out of your stance as well and spun you around. “What was that, kitten?”, he said, pulling your body against his own. “I…uh….”, you stammered, unable to form a sentence. Not when you were this close to him. Not when he called you kitten. 

Time stopped, as Minho’s eyes dropped to your lips, his fingers digging into your sides. Your breath hitched, your heart hammered against your ribcage, your core was positively throbbing, and all you could do was stare. Stare at his lips, stare at the way his ears turned slightly red, stare at his beautiful, darkening, half-lidded eyes. “Don’t be shy now”, he all but whispered, pulling you impossibly closer, pressing his crotch against yours - that’s when you felt it, felt him, hard and pulsing against you through his and your clothes. “Min…”, you repeated, unable to hold back, as you unintentionally leaned in just a bit. It was enough for him to act. You caught a glance of his smirk and then his lips were on yours, hot and hungry, as if he’d also been barely holding on. Your arms went around his neck in an instant as you lost yourself in the way he devoured you, tasting his tongue, becoming putty in his hands. 

You almost didn’t notice how he manoeuvred you backwards to the couch until your legs hit something soft, and he lowered you down onto it. Hovering over you, Minho examined you. Your lips were red and swollen, your pupils dilated, your breath ragged - he’d never seen you like that and it had his cock throb painfully. “We can stop”, he breathed, softly running his fingers over your cheek, because he knew, if he went one step further, he wouldn’t be able to stop. “No.” Your answer was immediate, almost a bit too fast, but you didn’t care. You wanted this, you wanted him. More than anything. And with your answer his expression shifted. Gone was any softness, replaced by sheer unadulterated lust, as he dove back into you, kissing you so sloppy, so greedy, that it had your whole body shaking beneath him.

Before you knew it, he was kneeling in-between your legs, hands exploring your body, slipping underneath your shirt, as he continued to kiss your lips, your face, your neck. He was all over you, taking control, and you melted beneath him, making the sweetest little sounds. His hands slid over your body, mapping out every inch, until he was cupping your breasts, squeezing, kneading, playing with your nipples. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”, he breathed against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, teeth grazing your delicate skin. 

You were tangled up in each other, surrounded by nothing but heat and desire, so lost in the moment you didn’t even realise when he had pulled your shirt off or your pants down. All you knew were his lips trailing down your bare chest, sucking marks here and there, until his kisses found your inner thighs, hungry and teasing. His shirt had been discarded too, at some point, and you enjoyed the view of a shirtless, panting, borderline feral Minho sitting between your legs, looking up at you with lidded eyes as his tongue ran through your slick folds. 

“Fuck…Min…”, you gasped, rolling your hips against his face, but he was quick to grab you and keep you steady, as he hungrily kept licking and sucking at your core. When your hand went to his head, fingers quickly tangling in his messy hair, he hummed against you, sending another shiver right down your spine. It didn’t take him long to get you all riled up, tight knot already forming in your lower belly. And he knew it, too. You could feel him smirking against your skin as he slowly, deliberately pushed two fingers into your wet, needy hole. It pulled a deeply sinful moan from you, to which he had the audacity to chuckle. “You like that, huh?”, he said, lips not leaving you once, “come on, show me how much.” 

Minho had no mercy, pumping his fingers into you with reckless abandon, as his tongue continuously slid over your clit. It was driving you mad, your hips bucking against his now one-handed hold, but he was still keeping you firmly pressed against the couch. “Fuck...’m so close…”, you panted, to which he hummed against you once again. “Come for me, Kitten”, he purred, “let go for me.” And with that the knot snapped, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, thighs shaking, back arching, vision blurring. You were only half aware of the scream that escaped your mouth - or the satisfied smile on Minhos face as he helped you ride out your climax. 

You were gasping for air, slowly coming down from your high, barely noticing how Minho pulled his fingers from your core. “Fuck”, you panted, “that was…wow…” “Glad you liked it”, he said, hovering over you face to face once again. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a soft, but still very hungry, kiss against your lips. “Think you can take more?”, he asked, his eyes still dark with desire. “I can take you”, you said, still a little breathless, “I want to.” “You sure?”, he smirked as he rolled his still covered crotch against your soaked, sensitive centre. 

“Ah…don’t be a tease, Min.” You let your hands run down his back and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Just fuck me already.” He didn’t need to be told twice. His pants and underwear were gone in an instant and you had only a short moment to marvel at the size of his cock. “Turn around”, he said, and you obeyed without hesitation. His hands were lingered on your butt for a while, grabbing, appreciating. But eventually, after you let out a few frustrated whines, he lined himself up. “Ready, kitten?”, he purred in your ear, and with your permission he slowly pushed himself in. 

Inch by inch he slowly filled you out. You held your breath as he stretched your walls, low grunts vibrating against your shoulder where his lips were locked to your skin. “Damn, kitten”, he rasped, “you’re so tight….so perfect...” When he finally bottomed out, you released your breath, feeling utterly full of him. And then he began to roll his hips, slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size. “Mhhh….Min….feels so good”, you moaned, as he sped up, hips snapping against your butt again and again and again. It was obscene, filthy, downright pornographic how he fucked you. Like he’d been thinking about it. Like he’d been starving for it. 

Your best friend’s dick drilled into you, hard and fast and ungodly, the angle too good, the size too perfect. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, only lewd noises coming out of your mouth as tears of pleasure stared to roll down your face. It felt too good. His hands gripped your hip tight enough to leave bruises, his breath was laboured and hot, his restraint was out the window. He fucked you like a feral beast, chasing his own release, and just when you thought he might not send you over the edge again, his right hand moved, fingers finding your clit. “Ugh…come…come with me kitten”, he panted, pressing and rubbing your most sensitive spot. 

You screamed into the pillow as the second orgasm hit, too overstimulated to care if the neighbours would hear you, too fucked out to have any control. Your whole body shook as you felt him pulse inside you, hips stuttering, painting your insides white. Your whole body tingled, as you collapsed beneath him, unable to hold yourself in any position other than flat on the couch. He followed suit, panting and sweaty, chest pressed against your back, only barely managing not to put his whole weight on you. For a while, the both of you stayed like this, finding your breath, slowing your hearts.

Eventually, you could feel him press gentle kisses against your back as he carefully pulled himself out of you. For a moment he was gone, and then you were turned over and picked up, carried to the bathroom and set down in a tub of hot, soapy water. Minho climbed in behind you, legs wrapping around your waist, and pulled you back against his chest. And for a very long time, you just sat there, surrounded by warmth and silence, safety and comfort. Until your mind returned to you. Until you realised what had just happened and a smile rushed over your face. “Min”, you whispered without turning around. “Kitten”, he whispered back, gently resting his head on your shoulder. “I get it now”, you said, calm and quiet. He pressed soft kisses to your neck. “What d’you get?”, he asked. You chuckled. “Why you didn’t want Hyunjin to dance with me.”

Fenya’s Masterlist

[suksatoru]

Sukuna is sure there's something wrong with you for loving him.

He's not lovable. He didn't even know how soft love could be until you came around. Sukuna is a brutally honest man, but he can't stop muttering the lie "I don't love you" against your lips even as he kisses you

He lies a lot to you, he realizes. He lies when he tells you that you mean nothing to him, he lies when his fingers dig into your skin as he reminds you you're replaceable. He lies when he says you're stupid—you have a brilliant and creative mind he adores

He thinks you'll slowly fade away like all the things in his life eventually do. He thought his love for you would slowly flitter and diminish with time and he'd stop thinking about you constantly

Unfortunately, Sukuna wasn't familiar with love. He didn't know how unpredictable it could be at times, or how it worked. It brought out parts of him he didn't even know existed.

"I was offered a job in another kingdom."

He looks down at you. You're laying on his chest right now. A single, delicate finger moving across the dark ink swirling on his skin as your face is pressed lovingly against his scarred body.

His large palm drags itself over the nape of your neck and towards the back of your head. He gently fists your hair and tilts your head upwards so you can see his scowl

"You're not going anywhere."

You smile. It makes his chest feel tight and his heart rate pick up as you slowly lift your head off of his chest, criss crossing your legs as you sit up on the bed beside him

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

If anyone else had even dared to think the words, let alone speak them, Sukuna would've sliced their body into more pieces than they could ever count. But you're a fearless thing. While people tie toe around him, you dance around the King of Curses like you couldn't care less.

He smiles. The gesture feels odd but his lips naturally curl upwards at your remark. One of his hands lazily caress your thigh as he gently nudges the fabric of your night gown out of the way

"Who are you to try and leave? You belong here. With me." Sukuna says lowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. You can see the amusement in his eyes as his fingers wrap around your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before you sigh

"But what if I wanted to leave? You said it yourself, I am not a priority of yours here." You press, leaning closer with a small pout on your lips as he scoffs

"I don't care." He mutters, not meeting your eyes as he looks up at the domed ceilings above him. Sukuna's room was never a place he used to enjoy being in. To him, the golden furniture and high, carved walls never made him feel anything at all

Now, in the mornings, he'd wake up to you peacefully sleeping beside him. Curled into his side, your presence had become an unshakable thing in his room. Slowly, it became a bundle of passion and love for him to exist freely in.

"Just say you're in love with me." You tease, your soft laughter slowly pulling his gaze away from the ceiling as he watched you crawl back onto his chest, pressing feather soft kisses onto his jaw

He lets out a breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth as he puts his hands on your waist to steady himself.

"I...I do." he mumbles, more to himself as your raise your brows in surprise

"You what?"

He grits his teeth, wondering why you're making this so difficult for him. Sukuna glares at you silently, hoping you'll be able to push past his arrogant words and see the underlying message

"You know what. So shut up and go back to doing that stupid thing you were doing." He concludes, referring to when you were tracing his tattoos. You laugh louder as your eyes crinkle in amusement

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. can you try that again, your highness?" You smirk, pressing your palm flat against his pec as he scowls

Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't—

"I love you."

The words come out strained, almost a whisper as he stares up at the ceiling. His grip on you is tight and he absolutely refused to look down into your eyes. He knows your lips are probably parted in shock. Your silence is long as he awaits a response, suddenly questioning if he'd said the right thing—

Both of your hands grab hold of his cheeks, slowly turning his face towards yours as one of his arms instinctively reaches out to pull you closer

Your voice is soft, but the warmth and relief that spreads through his chest is a welcomed sensation

"I love you too."

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Gotham's romance theory.

Danny is used to the theories circulating on the internet about him. Or rather about Danny Phantom. Anything ranging from him being an ancient god safeguarding some aspect of nature to Phantom being a manifestation of children's mischief.

His adventures with Clockwork and through the Ghost Zone had Danny popping up in various times throughout the course of history. No one could pinpoint when, where, or why Phantom appeared in myths and legends. Some people even argued that those ancient records spoke of another being because Phantom's diction was far too modern.

Danny thought it was a little bit hilarious to witness. He stumbled across a few forums the summer after freshman year and now hosts bi-weekly hangout nights where Tucker, Sam, and he scroll through the post to read to each other the most outrageous ones. Those nights usually end in laughter, so strong Danny's abs ache the next day.

His most recent favorite was the conspiracy theories posted by some guy in Gotham under the username , Bernard'sCookingTheories.

Apparently, Gotham had a "city spirit," a manifestation of a citizen's own will, and it went by the name Lady Gotham. According to the theorist, there were records of Lady Gotham appearing in Old Gotham back when it was known as New Gotham, walking around in a gown of smoke and face always covered by large hat. One would only be able to spot her at twilight, right as the world is bathed in Lady Gotham's darkness, and spotting her is a bad omen.

She used to bring her people good fortunate until her heart grew as clouded as her polluted sky, when Phantom-Prince of the Afterlife- broke her heart.

Danny was honestly surprised by how close Bernard'sCookingTheories actually got to his royal status, but he certainly never had a whirlwind romance with Lady Gotham, ending with him cheating on her. He doesn't even think Lady Gotham exists, but he appreciated the amount of research that the author put into thier posts.

If he didn't know the truth, Danny might have believed the theory, too. There was a lot of compelling proof Bernard'sCookingTheories dug up.

Danny visited Bernard's page, often checking in on more theories that involved the other heroes of the world and Phantom. He decided to make a PowerPoint to show Tucker and Sam at their next Hangout night with nothing but Bernard's blog content.

He clicked on it often throughout the day in those two weeks, hoping for updates on various theories like he was checking for new chapters in a story.

He never knew that Bernard's page was closed watched by his paranoid boyfriend, Tim Drake, who placed a tracker of who visited his lover's page. It was meant to ensure Tim's enemies - like Ra's- wasn’t bothering his civilian boyfriend, even if it was something as simple stalking his social media's.

When he got the alart, he almost threw on his Red Robin outfit in the middle of a meeting until he realized it was just a new fan of Bernard's brilliant mastery of the written word.

He did find it odd that a random guy in Amity Park, Illinois, was looking at Bernard's stuff so often. He wouldn't blame the guy if he fell for his lover's good looks- Bernard was one the handsomest man to ever grace this world , how could anyone not fall for him?- but he never posted a photo that wasn't proof of his research.

Maybe the stranger really liked the context, but Tim didn't think it was a coincidence that this person was in Phantom's well-known stomping grounds looking up theories of Phantom. He followed the IP to the origins, finding himself face to face with the son of the local ghost hunters location.

Well.....he never told Bernard, but he often thought his boyfriend's theories were cute and entirely wrong. However, if he was right, then he was arming Fenton with the means to kill a legend. Who knew what Prince Phantom's destruction would bring?

Not to mention what his undead court would do to Bernard. He doubts they would accept his boyfriend hadn't meant to bring the Prince harm.

Tim has only one choice.

He had to get Lady Gotham and Phantom back together so the powerful spirit would leave Amity Park and be safe without painting a target on Bernard.

Or he could get Fenton to move to Gotham and get away from Phantom.

Hmmm but how?

"Tim! My blog just got this new fan that's been talking about it without making fun of me! He agrees with me! He even messaged me to ask more about local urban legends. Which ones should I send? The one about Brown Bridge Lost Soul Mist or Batman being a reverse vampire? " Bernard practically skips into his outfit, looking utterly delighted. Tim's heart melts at the sight, feeling a goofy smile stretched across his face as his boyfriend babbles and then....it hits him.

"Bernard, how would you feel able opening a museum with me? It'll be all about Gotham's urban legends" Tim says lacing his finger under his chin, and grinning like a cat.

"Is this a proposal? Because my answer is yes"

Tim's grin stretches wider. "Wonderful. I know just who would love to help us set up the museum."

After all, he had noticed Fenton applied to multiple exchange programs at his school. He didn't get a single one, but that at least guarantees he would jump at a chance get out of Amity Park.

Once he was in Gotham, Tim left it up to Bernard to make him stick around. His boyfriend could get Batman to yield to one of his plans—at the time, he thought he was convincing Batman to help him save Tim, not Red Robin. Then, he could get anyone to agree to anything.

While Bernard worked on Fenton, Tim would hunt down Phantom and get him to rekindle his romance with a city's spirit.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Casual Sweetness

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: slight mentions of handsy strangers at a bar (nothing graphic); so much comfort

Author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. I started writing it, then finished it and now it’s existing and I’m putting it out there.

Masterlist

Never once has a night out with your girls left you this unsatisfied. Or, shaken, really. Every pre-planned rendezvous or spontaneous meet-up at a local bar with Wanda and Nat had always been a reliable escape from the daily grind.

You three like to cozy up at home, preferably at Wanda’s, and binge-watch a worthy series. And while that held its certain appeal, every once in a while you would find yourselves dancing and drinking, surrounded by people who wouldn’t remember enough of you, if the amount of liquor drove you to making decisions that sober you wouldn’t have even thought of. It has always provided an outlet for stress and helped you recharge.

Not tonight though. The strangers in the new bar you girls tried out tonight were far too handsy, your head started pounding uncomfortably even before taking the first sip and thinking about the bartender only makes dread pooling in your gut.

You also weren’t able to distract your mind, or rather your heart.

Usually, you would think about getting an Uber to meet up with your friends but Bucky always insisted on driving you when he wasn’t busy. But really, he never seemed to be, anyway. Not when it meant you would have to leave the apartment on your own. Nothing had his priority other than chauffeuring you around. You never asked him to do that, he just had a habit of insisting and there was nothing you could do. He had told you as much.

And tonight was no exception. He had sprung up from the couch, movie already paused, and keys in hand when you had emerged from the bathroom and practically ushered you into his car to drive you to the bar you girls had agreed on meeting at.

“Just don’t like the idea of you sittin’ in the backseat of some car, looking all pretty and dressed up with some guy in the front, thinking god knows what. Not takin’ any chances, doll, let me drive you.”

You always roll your eyes and scoff at his exaggerated concern, reminding him that it was said guy’s job to drive you to your wanted destination. You usually ignore the rest of his words. A simple shirt and jeans would hardly qualify as ‘dressed up’ for you and the idea of you being ‘pretty’ was something you would usually laugh at.

But it was hard to laugh at that when it came out of Bucky’s mouth. Your roommate. Your friend. Maybe even your best friend. But that’s where it stopped because nothing more ever happened. And you doubted it would.

So you let his words slide and let them wash over you because if you would address them, you would start thinking. And think, you do not want to. Because thinking only leads to foolish hope. A hopeless belief, that perhaps Bucky feels what you feel and suppresses it the same way you are. A ridiculous belief that he has the same overwhelming feelings about a friend that goes way beyond what friends normally feel for each other.

So you never let yourself think too hard, shoving those feelings into a box at the very back of your mind and swallowing down the key with the hard liquor when you went out for some drinks. It always burns on its way down. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s that lingering ache. It really is not clear to you, but it does offer you a sense of reprieve, if only temporarily.

With every hungover the next day, follows the inevitable onslaught of that knot inside your chest and that rusty key resurfaces, reopening the box and unleashing a fresh wave of longing.

It only worsens in the way he would take care of you.

Every glass of water, each soft touch, each softly whispered inquiry is a gentle prod to the already gaping wound that was caused by the feelings of unrequited love.

The pancakes he would bring to your bed - because you were too grumpy to leave it - never satisfies the nourishment your soul craves. The pain relievers he would put on your nightstand, already there when you’d get back, would only serve as a cruel reminder that nothing could relieve the ache inside your chest.

With every “You feelin’ better, doll?” and “There anythin’ else I can do for you, sweetheart?” the ache deepens, spreading like wildfire through your veins, reaching your bones and searing through them like branding irons with the intention to leave marks that you believe to be permanent.

The hangover eventually leaves your body, but your heart festered.

However, the ache is not always the dominant emotion in Bucky’s presence. It isn’t always the first thing you acknowledge. First and foremost, being in Bucky’s proximity elicits a profound sense of comfort and warmth.

It let the butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably with every belly laugh he let out unabashedly, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, crinkles forming at their corners.

Your heart does unwanted flips at every pet name Bucky lets casually slip passed his lips, seeming so nonchalant about calling you doll and sweetheart but to you it means everything.

Every tender gesture leaves you breathless. You had been living with him for nearly a year now and you had come to acknowledge how sharing a space with him had become a delicate balancing act between euphoria and agony.

Bucky would bring you a hot water bottle at times when your cramps got too bad, or simply when you experienced menstrual discomfort, trying to soothe you with sweets he extra went out for.

He would jokingly chastise you to fold your clothes before storing them in the closet to prevent them from wrinkling and tease you when you didn’t. But it always ended with him taking matters into his own hands and carefully folding your clothes while you watched him from your bed, making fun of him when he turned red attending to your undergarments, despite trying to remain indifferent.

He would cook with and for you, make you coffee in the mornings, distract you with terrible jokes when you had a bad day, and leave you to it when all you needed was some me-time, only checking in when he needed to be sure you were okay.

His casual sweetness was a constant assault on your composure.

But right now, as you klick the door to your shared apartment shut and slip out of your shoes with a heavy sigh, it is all you can think of. His gentle touch, the sparkling blue of his eyes, the cheerfulness of his smile that makes your insides do somersaults.

It is still early. Earlier than you had ever been home after a night out and you’re sure Bucky is still awake. The lights in the living room are out which means he is in his room, perhaps engrossed in his laptop, reading a book, or idly scrolling through his phone.

Yet, you hesitate, staying rooted to the spot in the hallway. It was nothing unusual for you to knock on Bucky’s door, sometimes simply barging in if you felt particularly bold or just wanted to annoy him. But you had never sought him out before simply because you needed him. Needed his comfort, his reassuring whispers, the warmth that radiates off him and seeps into your skin.

So to buy some time, you retreat to the bathroom; emptying the contents of your bladder, splashing water on your face, and brushing your teeth.

There is only so much time you can stall, and soon enough you find yourself standing in front of Bucky’s bedroom door, clothes discarded and changed for more comfortable sleepwear. There is no noise filtering through the wall of his room but the soft glow seeping beneath the door offers a glimmer of hope.

You try to soothe the shakiness of your hands and rub them along the fabric of your shirt before lifting one hand to knock on his door. The sound is softer than intended, but Bucky’s gentle ‘come in’ was immediate.

Opening the door slowly you find him leaning against the headboard of his bed, dark sheets loosely draped around his waist. His grey shirt makes him look cozy and in his lap lay a book. One you had recommended him to read.

Your body reacts in an instant, shoulders dropping ever so slightly and a breath leaves your lips at the comfort he already provides.

“You’re back early,” he starts when you keep standing at the door unmoving, “didn’t expect you home til’ midnight at least.”

The familiar cadence of his tone provides you the sense of stability you had needed to let go of his doorknob, however, the teasing in his voice wasn’t lost on you. He seems to have expected you to tumble through the door at an ungodly hour, dropping in your bed and waking the next morning with a hangover worse than the last time.

You assume the bottle of water and the painkillers already found their place on your nightstand.

A huffed laugh leaves your lips but your expression remains unchanged as you shift awkwardly in his doorway. “Uh, yeah, we decided to leave earlier. Weren’t really feeling it, I guess.” You shrug, attempting to sound nonchalant, but Bucky’s brow begins to furrow softly and he shuts his book, placing it on his nightstand without taking his eyes off you.

“You alright, doll?” His voice was devoid of the teasing tone he had held moments before, “did something happen?” His eyes are intense, scanning your face and you break eye contact, letting your gaze wander across his room as if you see it for the first time.

You take a deep breath, hands twisting nervously and your heart picks up in pace. “I, uhm…It’s-” You stumble over your words, a shaky breath escaping your mouth instead of a coherent answer.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky shift on his bed, straightening as if preparing to come closer to you but your next words halt him in his movements.

“Can I maybe stay with you? Tonight?”

It comes out more pleading and quieter than wanted but you don’t care about that right now. Not with the way Bucky looks at you. He is halfway out of the bed already, sheets thrown back onto the mattress but he still doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Course you can stay, doll! Of course you can.”

Bucky’s voice holds a reassuring firmness, while he still talks softly. Your teeth clamp down on your lower lip, watching him cross the room to you and placing his hands gently on your upper arms to take a better look at you. His eyes move between yours, brows deepening, concern etching itself into every line of his face.

“You wanna tell me what happened? Somebody make you uncomfortable?” There is something in his tone you can’t concentrate on, only shaking your head at his questions.

“I don’t- Can we not-” Your words were cut short by the gentle touch of Bucky’s hand on your face. His thumb begins to steadily swipe over your cheekbones so tenderly, a shiver rushes down your spine. He had never touched you like this before and you are trying your very best not to let your eyes droop and melt into him.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, doll, I just-” So many emotions are swirling in the depth of his blues, his worry still the most outstanding. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he whispers. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

His thumb doesn’t ease the motions over your skin and it is that you realize your hands stopped shaking and your heartbeat fell back in place without conscious effort. He has done so much for you already, without knowing it.

A deep, audible sigh escapes your lips and you offer him your first genuine smile of the night. “Just wanna stay here with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked onto his and if the world stopped moving for a second you would be none the wiser.

The comforting circles of his thumb paused and you feel that damned rusty key turning in the deadbolt of the lock to the box of your feelings, opening them with a screech and letting the contents spill out, open for him to see. And there comes the hope again. The belief that the depths of his eyes reflect the very same emotions you have plastered on your face.

But how can you not believe it when his expression holds something that looks to you a lot like love. A love, an affection, that, as you’ve established goes way beyond friendship.

Warm lips brush against your forehead and you let your eyes close for a second, savoring the feel of them. Gentle hands guide you towards his bed and you move like putty, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the soft sheets, full of his scent.

Bucky crawls in beside you, laying his body to face yours and you can’t help but study the way the soft glow of the moon that seeps through the curtains, reflect on the planes of his face, after he shut off the little lamp on his bedside table.

“Thank you, Bucky!” you whisper, the sound almost getting lost in the sheets, but he hears you, a soft smile forming on his lips, the moon allowing you to see it.

“Not for this, sweetheart. Never for this,” he whispers back and you let your eyes fall shut with a content sigh.

Right before sleep can claim you, you feel the comforting weight of his hand, covering your own over the sheets and silently linking with your fingers.

“I’ve found a natural drug for all of my panic, anxiety, and anger. It’s his voice. It’s him.”

- J.R. Rogue

[yaut-jaknowit]

Left Behind Part 2

Pairing: Dai'stbaen (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Mother!Reader

Word Count: 3410

Summary: After escaping the facility, Dai takes you and his son to his planet. It's not the smartest of ideas but you have no choice. Earth is no longer safe for the both of you. Yautja Prime isn't either. Dai knows how to play the game though. The first obstacle was convincing the council to allow you asylum. There's not enough begging from you or Dai to crack them.

Author Note: I swore I had an ask about this but apparently Tumblr decided to eat it. Heads up, might got a bit MIA. Had things happen at work and trying to figure out life now. IDK

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

A warm plate of meat and a glass of light green juice was set on a counter. Austin was already sitting on the ground with his own food, clearly enjoying his first, real meal in about a month. A least, that’s how long you though you were there. There was no sun or clocks. Just the rotation of scientists for the day and night. You were beyond thankful to be out and saved by Dai.

Speak of the man.

Dai’stbaen’s yellow eyes were on Austin, carefully watching him with a critical eye. One you felt a bit uneasy about. Your motherly instincts flared to life despite that being the father.

“It takes time,” you murmured and picked a slice off of your plate. The sound of your voice snapped Dai out of his stupor. You took a bite of the unknown meat and did your best to hide the cringe at the sour taste. The meat was alien but that wasn’t what you were expecting at all. It was food though. After going so long without it, you didn’t let it go to waste.

The alien turned his gaze towards you. He studies you now. “I was sent to find and kill the hybrid… our son,” he says. All of your muscles locked into place. Then, you began to scoot towards your son. You knew deep down if Dai seriously wanted Autin dead though, he would’ve been long gone before getting on the ship.

“But, you didn’t,” you whispered and timidly gazed at Dai.

“But I didn’t.”

The question hangs between the two of you. Why? Why did he save Austin instead of going through with what he was sent to do? Why agree to help you with Austin in the first place? You observed Dai closely as he leaned against the nearest wall. It was hard to read his alien face and know what he was thinking.

He leans back and lets his head rest against the wall eyes closing. “You cannot return to your home but my home will be just as deadly for you and… our son. My tribe won’t agree to his existence.” You could hear something underlining tone though and waited for him to continue. “With my rank, I may be able to convince the elders to allow existence if I train him. He’s already behind but if he can best his chiva, no one could kill him for being a hybrid.”

You stopped mid bite to look at him in horror. “He’s just a child! Your kind will kill a child because he’s a hybrid?! What is so bad about being a hybrid?” you questioned and abandoned your food to march up to Dai. Heated anger burning in your eyes, a passion to protect your son. The very son who’s father had come to kill.

“Everything.” Your face twisted with hurt. “It is a taint on a bloodline. A hybrid will never be as strong as its full blooded other. They are seen as weak. The yautja who aided as well.” His eyes finally meet yours again.

Did he just call himself weak? Your anger spurted out to glowing embers. That you didn’t expect. “So, you regret it. You regret that night.” Yautjas, or at least him, don’t use emotions very often. Just facts and instincts to drive them. The opposite to humans. You drew away from him and hugged yourself. His next move surprised you.

Dai shoved off of the wall and reached out with a hand. His palm cupped you cheek, thumb swiping away a stray tear. “No. No, I don’t. I don’t regret you saving me I saving you. I enjoyed that night. I… I wish I stayed.” The unique alien was showing emotion. More then you’ve ever seen before. “I wish I helped you.”

Words you never expected from him. He’s so stoic but this?

More tears flowed freely. “I was so scared. I-I couldn’t have anyone over to help me. I had to give birth alone! In my apartment and hoped nothing went wrong because I wouldn’t be able to take him to a hospital. I was terrified,” you cried. Then, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his midsection. The Yautja tensed up, arms held up slightly, unsure what to do. A few moments past before he mimics you and hugs you back. You sniffed into his chest as he holds you.

.

Before stepping off the ship, Dai has to crudely attach a metal mask over your entire face. It was too large for you face but Dai was able to make it seal. Apparently, the air was more rich in nitrogen then oxygen for you to comfortably breathe. As for Austin, he had to bear the air without aid. He couldn’t show weakness. Even though he is just a child.

You’re lead down the ramp while holding Austin’s hand despite what Dai warned. This was your child. You didn’t care what others though if you seemed to be coddling him. Austin was only give. He’s still a baby to you and deserves to be coddled. Specially after everything the two of you endured at that… place.

Humid heat instantly smacked you in the face and made your clothes feel ten times heavier. You pinched the collared of your shirt and moved it quickly from your body to invite over movement. It didn’t help.

From the ship, Dai brings you into a small village. At the first sight of another yautja, you tugged Austin closer and tucked closer to Dai’s side. He stiffened for a millisecond but did nothing to produce space between the two of you.

Deadly glares were pointed on the two of you. Some eyes filled with confusion or even betrayal. Many kept a wide berth as if you were diseased. Others… were more daring and made attempts to grab at Austin. You reared around on the offender, ready to show how protective of Austin you were. Dai snagged an arm around your waist though and carried you away from the situation. Austin had to run after the two of you to keep up with Dai’s long strides.

He came to a sudden stop. A shadow casted over you. Your head snapped over to see a towering yautja glaring down at Dai’stbaen. This one was at least a head taller, easily more. Your anger washed away with hear freezing the bleed in your veins. This one could easily pop Dai’s head off it wanted to.

“You brough it back. Alive? With the mother?” it snarled viciously and crowded into your shared space. Dai slowly set you back down and guided with on hand to have you stand behind him. You realized the unknown yautja was speaking what must be their native language but the mask was translating to you. “The council will have your head for this. I should take care of the problem before it reaches them.” It steps even closer. Your beats loudly, threatening to explode. You hadn’t even been on the planet longer than five minutes and were about to be killed.

A growl tumbled out of the yautja protecting you. “You have no authority, Luc-ilio. This is an issue for the council, not you.” What parts of his back that weren’t covered, you saw the muscles rippling as he prepared for a fight. You clutched Austin’s hand tighter.

The newly named Luc-ilio stood tall and looked down at Dai. “Who knew an enforcer such as yourself would stoop to such levels to breed. I am glad you declined me for breeding rights now. No one wants your tainted bloodline now,” it sneered before spinning on its heel and strutting away.

Though confused on most of what it had said, you couldn’t help the guilt that pooled in the pit of your belly. Clearly having a child with his has tainted his image to his tribe.

Dai acted no different and carried down the stone path. You followed after him with Austin in tow. The child not understanding a word that was just said. At least the air didn’t seem to be affecting him.

A large pyramid-like building stood tall in the middle of what must be the middle of the town. Dai didn’t stop and marched up the first flight of stairs. You picked Austin up and placed him on your hip before going up the steps. Dai didn’t slow his stride. The steps were meant for someone of his stature, making the journey hard for you. Worst of all, carrying your fifty pound child wasn’t easy either. But you made it to an entrance about one-third from the base of the pyramid. You could feel the mask struggling to provide the necessary oxygen for you.

Two guards stood on either side of the entrance. Both geared up with fancy armor and large spears. Their eyes narrowed on you at first then darkened at the sight of Austin there. You held onto him a little tighter and turned your body away from them.

“The council is in a meeting,” one grunted after tearing its green eyes off of Austin.

“They will want to speak to me,” Dai’stbaen countered and squared his shoulders. The guards look him up and down then snorted.

“Yes. Yes, they will,” the other spoke in a hoarse voice that grated on your ears.

The guards allow you access into the building. You were thankful to get out of the direct heat and sun. It felt like it was cooking you alive.

Once inside it wasn’t much better. There was no breeze to help ease the stifling heat that threatened to suffocate you. More guards were scattered on other doorways leading further and deeper into this tomb. Austin tightened his grip on your clothing and huddled closer to you.

Soon enough, deep down, the three of you reached a grand set of doors. Another pair of guards stood on either side. These two were massive like the first yautja you had seen on the planet. You got a good look at them and realized… Are those breasts? Their woman are larger than their men. Holy shit. They were much larger.

Two spears came down and blocked the door by creating an ‘X’. “The council is in meeting. No entry is allowed until afterwards,” the one on the right, a rich brown hide, stated firmly and met your gaze. Disgust evident in them.

“I must speak to them. This is important,” Dai demanded and stepped forward, urging them to let the three of you in.

The sneer they gave Dai dribbled onto you and Austin. “Male, you have no rights to demand anything. That thing is your offspring.” How did they know? Austin has speckles of red scales along various spots on his body but besides that, you couldn’t see other similarities. You hugged Austin once more and watched them careful. It’s evident that everyone has something against Austin and you for just existing unfortunately.

“Just tell-“ Dai started.

The beige woman stomped her foot down with a growl. “No! Leave now before we finish the job for you and satisfy the council at your slackness.” You gasped and stepped back, ready to flee if need be. The rich brown yautja grinned at the fear you had for them. Who wouldn’t?!

Before either of them could get another word in, the large doors were pulled open.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Another massive Yautja appeared in the door way with a snarl on her wrinkly face. Her golden eyes roamed over the scene in front of her and landed on Austin and you. The center of attention at this point. “In Paya’s name, we ordered you to kill it, not bring the wretched thing here with its mother!”

Dai’stbaen fell to a knee and bowed his head. “Ma’dam Siln-taunh,” he greeted with great respect. Ma’dam Siln-taunh was highly decorated in armor, bones, and fur. Her status clear even to your clueless self. You started to tremble at the deadly look she gaze you. Even Austin whimpered and tucked into your side, burying his face into your neck. “Ma-dam, if I ma-“ he began but was quickly cut off.

“Don’t tell me you-you sired it!” she gasped, mandibles flaring either in disgust or anger or both. Probably both. You took a step back. Her teal blue eyes snapped towards you at the movement. The disgust tenfolded in the blueness.

Instead of cowering or bowing his head in shame. Dai stood tall, head level. “I did. The ooman had saved me but got injured in return. I let her stay with me until she was healed. We g-“ She interrupted him again.

“It should end there. You pay back that duty due to our code and left the soft meat immediately afterwards.” If Dai hadn’t kept you for that month… Austin wouldn’t extist. None of this would’ve happened. And you didn’t know if you would’ve wanted that.

When a pregnant pause entered the air, a figure appeared behind Ma’dam Siln-taunh. Unlink Siln-taunh, she stood there with mirth in her eyes. She found Austin tucked against you, gaze softening. Before you knew it, the rust brown pushed past Siln-taunh with a gasp.

“Oh my goodness!” she said and stopped directly in front of you. Dai’s shoulders tensed up but he didn’t come to your recue. You stared wide eyed at her and took a step away, turning your body away to hide Austin from her. Her overexcitement died off. She took a step back and immediately clamed down. “Apologies. I did not mean to frighten you in such a way. I have never seen a young hybrid before.”

“Calinork, do no,” Siln-taunh growled out. “Get away from them. They are probably riddles with diseases.” Calinork snorted and squatted down in front of you. Your protective instincts continued to flare to like. An unsure glare was set on Calinork.

“He is adorable, ooman,” Calinork stated, ignoring what Siln-taunh said to her. “How old is her? Has he began training yet? He seems big enough.” She was definitely different compared to the beige alien you began to slow relaxed, still on the edge. The lump in your throat was push down.

“He recently turned five… and, uh, no. We don’t do that. He’s not like you guys.” Austin may have half of their DNA, but you weren’t going to let him go fight monsters and aliens. He was going to stay safe under your wing until the day you died. No one was going to hurt him. No under your watch.

She smiled, at least you think it was a smile. “But he is. If he has a lick of his sire’s heart, he’ll do just fine here,” she told you with a confidence you didn’t have. You hugged Austin harder despite the ache in your arms.

Ma’dam Siln-taunh hissed and marched towards thee two of you. Calinork whirled around while standing up at the same time. Dai moved towards you as well, hands flying to his hunting knife at his side.

“That thing will not be permitted to stay here, let alone alive. It needs to be put down like the disgusting, soft meat hybrid it is!” Ma’dam Siln-taunh snarled and tried to get to you, almost bypassing Calinork. Dai pushed you behind him, knife at the ready. Calinork stares the Ma’dam down until she finally stopped. The two of them sizing each other up before Siln-taunh backed down.

“As the right hand of our empress, my word overshadows yours tenfold, little Ma’dam. The hybrid will get to live like any other offspring. He will be trained by the esteemed Dai’stbaen to overcome his chiva at the rightful age of fifteen solar cycles. His mother will wear my seal to ensure her safety. Should anyone come to harm either without reason, punishment will be the last of their worries.”

All four of you stared wide-eyed at Calinork. Her declaration firm in the air. Siln-taunh’s mandibles tightened over her mouth. It looked like she wanted to heavily disagree with Calinork but wasn’t in an position of authorityto disobey the command.

Ma’dam Siln-taunh respectfully bowed her head, muscles strained. “Yes, La’dam Calinork.” There was something in her voice that made you feel uneasy about the whole situation. More than before. You glanced at the back of Dai’s head want comfort and reassurance. The moment far too tense to allow any weakness to reveal itself.

“You’re dismissed,” Calinork sent Siln-taunh away. The beige woman staged for a moment longer, glaring daggers that promised death, then took her leave.

Not all the tension left the hallway. The guards still stood at their post watching the whole thing. Calinork shut the door and lead the two of you away from there and into a private room. The door closed with a soft click.

You finally set Austin down, your arm about to give out. You kneeled down to his height and checked him over, ensuring nothing had happened to him. Dai knelt next to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder. Tears pooled in your eyes but you did your best to suck them back down for Austin.

“Why does everyone want to kill him? He’s just a child, an innocent kid. He’s done nothing wrong!” you broke into a crying fit and hugged Austin close. He was a bit confused but returned the gesture. You didn’t care if Calinork watched. Fuck everyone. “Your kind are monsters for killing children just because they are different.”

Calinork walked around to stand a few feet behind Austin. “Hybrid are looked down because they aren’t pure blooded yautjas. A taint on a bloodline. Only the strong survive in our society. It’s the way of life,” she explained and leaned back against a stone desk built into the ground.

You scowled at her through the tears. You could care less about her being the right hand of the empress. Their whole society sucked. “I don’t care. Let Dai’stbaen disown him and cut his ties. I will not let anyone take him away or kill him. He’s my child!”

Dai looked at you with a hint of hurt in his gaze. Calinork shook her head. “One, it doesn’t like that. Two, even if you could, I wouldn’t recommend you doing that. Dai’stbaen will have to defend you and your child until he can do it himself. All of you have painted a massive target on your back. Dai’stbaen will also have to work twice as hard to gain the favor of the elders favor again.”

At this point, it sounded like being back in that facility was better than here. At least they needed you alive to keep Austin somewhat calm. They just wanted you dead here. No remorse.

All you wanted to do was break down and cry. To sob to your hearts content. There hasn’t been a moment in the last six years that you’ve caught a breath.

Finally, you picked up your head to look at the rust colored yautja in the yellow eyes. “What am I supposed to do?” It feels like you’ve been backed into a spiky corner. Either to be slaughtered by a very murderous race or be impaled by spikes. Neither sounded pleasant or ever merciful.

She steeled her gaze on you.

“Survive.”

.

The cottage-like home that Dai brought Austin and you to was homy. In a way, it was both primitive and modern. The skulls and pelts decorating the walls gave you a cabin feel. Except it was a jungle where the home sat. Thick, possibly deadly foliage around you.

Dai’stbaen sets down the gear he brought off of his ship. “There is only one bed,” he stated and rummaged through the bag. A metal canteen was pulled out. “I do have plenty of pelts to craft another sleeping spot if you wish.” He seemed unsure, almost in a nervous way. After the day’s events, you wanted to just collapse. “You hadn’t gotten much sleep on the way here. All you could do was nod your head and follow after him to a bedroom decorated heavily with skulls. If you weren’t exhausted, you maybe you would’ve had a different reaction.

Instead, you went over to the low, massive bed and flopped onto it. Austin crawled up after you and made his own spot near the middle. The moment your head hit the mattress, you were out like a light.

[reidrum]

the many names | s.r

a/n: i could not get the idea that spencer would have little explanations for all the names he has for you so i give you this enjoy

summary: in which the many names that spencer calls you each have a special meaning

cw: mind rotting fluff

wc: 1.1k

honey:

spencer’s childhood was anything but ordinary. graduating high school at 12, with a schizophrenic mother, and an absentee father is a combo meant to mess anyone up. the one thing he felt was constant were the sitcoms his mother would watch when she had her good days. shows like i love lucy and cheers filled his ears as he watched the picture perfect families navigate through mundane and seemingly normal scenarios. the comfort he found in these televised families, something he wasn’t afforded in his own, was a nice little bandaid on the gaping hole left by the oddities of his life.

until he met you, of course. you changed everything for him, showed him what it meant to be loved and cherished, what family really was outside of the textbook definition. as a young boy he’d always envied ricky ricardo coming home to lucy at the end of every work day, bursting through the door and saying “honey, i’m home!” the phrase itself encompassed what he so dearly longed for; a home.

so when spencer calls you honey, he means it because you’re sweet and sappy and all the things normally associated with honey. but for him, specifically, when he gets to come back from harsh cases, bursting through the door of your shared apartment yelling “honey, i’m home!”, it heals that gaping hole from his childhood little by little, replacing the wound with the home you’ve built together.

sweetheart:

for someone who absolutely loves sweet things, calling you sweetheart was an obvious title in his book. the way you cared so deeply for the people in your life, the people you didn’t know, even those involved in heinous crimes were offered some of your never ending empathy. it inspired him, to know that someone who sees the true horrors of humankind on the daily can still hold hope and love for the world’s inhabitants.

when spencer calls you sweetheart, it’s in the more domestic moments of your lives. when he asks which tea you want, when he can tell it’s been a rough day and he lets you rest in the comfort of his arms saying “it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here now.”, when he leaves you long and loving voicemails for when you’re not able to go on cases together. spencer’s sweet tooth could probably never be satiated, but if it keeps you around forever he has no problem with that.

angel:

calling you angel is still something he finds a little ironic. he’s an agnostic atheist, has no faith in the gods or whatever power that may be. he’d always say if you couldn’t find it in a textbook then it’s not a real thing. but here you were, defying literally everything he ever knew or thought he knew. spencer thinks that if angels were personified they would surely look like you.

his job has so many moments that put him in near death situations, he’s not proud of how many times he’s felt the pearly gates come for him. but every time he was close to that end, flashes of you would roll through his mind like a movie reel and it would tether him back to this realm.

add to that, you just always happened to be there when he needed you. if he was about to drop a cup of coffee you’d be there grab it, you had his back when you were on the field together, and you’d let him talk your ear off about the most obscure topic just to see him smile.

if proof existed for the theoretical, it would be you. you were his guardian angel, and he never let you forget it.

princess:

this one was rare, only invoked in the super intimate and special moments between you both. usually in the bedroom is where you hear this one used in both sides of the extreme. on one side he says it when you’re being just so needy, so pliant and willing for whatever he wants it just makes him want to give you everything in return. on the other side, when you’re being for lack of a better word, a brat, it’s used as a tease, a taunt for your slutty bad behavior. a reminder that even though you’re spoiled by him he’s still going to give you the world.

it’s also used when you both get dressed up, for an fbi event or a party at rossi’s. it always takes the wind out of him when he sees you getting ready or you come out to show your outfit to him. it makes him feel like falling in love with you again every time, like he’s been so blessed to live a fairytale where he prevails and gets the princess at the end.

baby:

calling you baby is quite literally second nature to spencer, probably the easiest thing for him to do. it slips out all the time people might think baby is your real name. he uses it when he asks what you want for dinner, when you’re upset over something he did at work that put him in danger, when he just really wants you to watch this one russian romance film he finally got his hands on and promises you’ll love it.

you also find it really funny to play songs that you know he doesn’t know that have the word baby in it, because even if he doesn’t know the words to always be my baby to mariah carey, it never stops him from giving you the biggest smile in the universe when he listens to you belt the song to him.

pretty girl:

he didn’t even come up with this one, derek did. stemming from his nickname for spencer, when derek realized that there was something between you and pretty boy, it just became so easy to get under his skin and call you pretty girl, telling him “don’t look now, your pretty girl is coming.”. before you had started dating and spencer was just pining from afar, he would get so red in the face when derek would let the name slip.

after he finally grew some balls and asked you out, spencer adopted the name for himself to use in situations he had you alone, where he could admire you in your entirety and no other prying eyes. to use when you just wake up and the sunlight hits you perfectly like a glowing halo, or when you’re both in the office and you’re explaining something relevant to the case and you just sound so smart and beautiful, and he can’t help but truly believe that the aphrodite reincarnate is his.

[the-faceless-bride]

Some Of my current ideas and obsession Blurbs (if you find any of them interesting, I'm open to hearing ideas 👀👀)

Part 2 ->

Imagine being a demon...

Imagine Part of your power has to do with death, corruption, and seeing who someone was when they were alive... as a demon, the death of Rengoku Kyojuro broke you. He was such a beautiful, loving, caring man. Giving such an unfair and unfortunate death... you just couldn't accept this...

Imagine You bring him back as he springs up after your ritual. His hair was a mess, covered in dirt, his clothes ripped. He gasps for air as if it was the first he's had in centuries... "Poor unfortunate soul, so sad, in need... come allow me to give you a second chance."

Imagine His horror. Him. Now a Demon. Tethered to you. Unable to die again unless you give him permission to do so... he tired. Sat in the sun. But while he felt weak and itchy, he didn't die. He hated it. Hated himself. He hated you. You who, while yes, didn't have malicious intent. Who gave him a second chance at 'life' as you called this... you who brought him back and unlike when he was alive in his final moments felt no pain, no hunger, he hated you.

Imagine slowly helping him come to terms with his eternal life. From Enemies (one sided) to Lovers letting him stay with you in your small hidden village of other demon families that have also been brought back and tethered to you. Still fulfilling his dreams, taking down the demons who "lost their humanity and deserved their eternity to end."

Imagine the conflict you face, when His once friends and found family find him... a demon... still classic Kyojuro but yet so different... what do you do? An angry group of Hashira Pillars cursing you for what you did to their friend. Kyojuro broken and ashamed of what he is once more at the heart break of his friends being scared of him, some of them hating him all together...

Imagine him calling out to you, help him. Make them listen. Please. His Angel... his little firefly... please make them understand. He can't bare the way they look at him... help him... he needs you.

Rengoku Kyojuro × demon Reader Trope: Enemies to lovers

Now also Imagine being a demon...

Imagine being a demon who was so desperately, hopelessly, in love with Gyomei Himejima. Hopelessly devoted to a man who didn't even know you existed. You watched him at night, singing your sweet song and lulling him to a deeper sleep each night. Wishing nothing more than to one day be able to caress and memorize every inch of his mind, body, and soul. Wishing to kiss his soft looking lips...

Imagine desperately trying to deny what you know is true... you've heard it from your fellow demon 'friend' over and over again. And tonight, you were desperately trying to hold on to your dreams... "[name] just face it... he's a Demon slayer. A hashira. And to him, you're a monster... that something no amount of love is going to change. You'd be better off not thinking about him anymore. If you really love him, you'd let him go... besides a pretty human girl will probably catch his attention sooner or later..." You hang your head as tears fill your eyes, it's not true... it's not. He could love you. He could...

Imagine one day, you run into him in the Forest. The Forrest trees are so thick that the completely block out the sun, it's only a small section of the Forest. You liked to come here to lay in the flowers, and apparently Gyomei had thought the same...

Imagine He needed a quiet place, today had been a very hectic day. No peace and quiet today at all. He'd simply sat under a particularly large tree, focusing on his breath. You'd sat so unbelievably still. Not wanting to move and risk ruining this perfect moment. You were so close. You'd never been this close to him before and it made every part of your cold body ache.

Imagine accidently rustling the flowers catching his attention instantly, and he jumps to stand in a defensive position. You quickly kneel head pressing to the ground as you apologize for disturbing him, and not wanting any trouble. But oddly he doesn't attack you and instead he apologizes for startling you. At first you were confused. But then it clicked, you Had not attacked him like a demon would. He's blind. He doesn't yet realize you're a demon... this was it. Your chance. To speak to him. To hear him address you... to hear him say your name...

Imagine Pretending to be human, making it seem like you were a measly human girl who came here to sit in the flowers to relax... and this was how it went for some time... days turn to weeks, and weeks turn into months. You'd been keeping this secret of yours for 3 months, your love for Gyomei stronger and flame of obsession brighter. And he'd become so open to you. Telling you almost eveeything... sure you'd felt guilty lying to him... but you just couldn't let him. Go...

Imagine one evening, the sun setting, the fireflies and the colorful flowers surrounding you... you gain the courage to confess... stilling your heart of how much you admire him, you know that he way not feel the same way... but even if he'll never belong to you... that's OK, you are happy to just dream and be his dear friend... but to your shock and joy he accepts your confession. He's gained feelings for you. You could almost cry... but then... in an instant the happiness... your happily ever after was ripped away from you in an unfortunate series of events "Dearest... your hands are so cold..." - "GYOMEI!" A his friend Mitsuri calls out her foot steps quickly approaching, more footsteps following behind. "AWAY DISGUSTING MONSTER!" she cries her sword just barley missing you as your arm is severed clean off. And instantly Gyomei's face goes through so many emotions... worry, Confusion, shock and finally realization... and he let's you go. You dash away vanishing... "Gyomei! Are you ok?! That awful creature tricked you! She must've planned to devower you then and there if I hadn't noticed your absence! Are you OK my friend!?" The sounds of other Confused voices all speaking over each other planning to find you... Gyomei thinks of her question... is he OK?... honestly... he doesn't know...

Gyomei Himejima × Demon Reader Trope: unrequited love/Forbidden love

[damiansgoodgirll]

I'm so happy your requests are open, I loveee your works :)

I was hoping I could ask for something with Rhea x Reader who goes non verbal when they're overwhelmed. Maybe with a small mention of Damien Priest ??

Have a great day :)

rhea ripley x reader ft platonic damian priest

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️comfort, reader feeling overwhelmed and anxious, reader going non-verbal

a comforting presence

it wasn’t a secret that you didn’t like big crowds. you preferred the comfort of silence.

rhea knew it and she never pushed you into doing things that would make you uncomfortable.

everytime she was in the ring fighting, she thought of you being at home cheering for her from the comfort of your own bedroom. she could feel your warmth and love even if you weren’t there.

but when rhea was confirmed to be the fifth member of bianca’s team for war games, you wanted to be there for her. this was going to be a huge moment for her and you wanted to be there.

rhea wasn’t so sure. she knew the crowd for war games was definitely gonna be worse and louder than any normal crowd and the fact that you would have been alone surrounded by people didn’t help her either.

she asked you to watch the match backstage but you said that it wouldn’t have been the same, you wanted to feel the crowd and wanted to enjoy the experience at fullest.

so she reluctantly agreed.

she bought you a ticket in a vip booth, so that you could hide and stay in your comfort in case the crowd got too loud.

you were fine with that - as long as you were able to see her and her team, you were happy with it.

the match went to her favor and even tho the glass barrier was keeping the crowd noise down, you were still able to enjoy the cheers and happy moments from the public.

everything was working out perfectly and you were so happy you didn’t miss that incredible moment. rhea was as happy as you were - knowing that you were in the crowd cheering for her.

the first thing she wanted to do once she won the match was to come and get you but press and interviews stopped her. you still enjoyed the rest of the show - feeling a little down when damian didn’t win because of finn, again but getting hyped again when roman’s team came into the ring.

you couldn’t believe you were assisting to that live.

you were happily cheering and watching the match behind the glass when you noticed some people looking at you. they probably recognized you as you and rhea never stayed private in your relationship. a few of them took quick pictures of you to post on twitter, just to let the fan base know that you were there.

quickly receiving notifications from you phone, you decided to open twitter and read what was going on about you.

she finally showed up - a rheas’ stan account said.

i thought she never existed and we were all imagining her - someone else said.

and way worse comments aimed towards you that you didn’t want to read.

why were people so mean?

looking back at the girls who took pictures of you, you noticed them staring and once they caught your eyes, they pretended nothing ever happened.

you felt small, in that moment you just wanted to disappear.

without thinking twice, you left your spot and you tried to find the entrance for the backstage. remembering the pass rhea gave you, you knew you were going to use it now.

waking through the corridors, people stared at you, probably recognizing you.

“bad idea…” you whispered. trying to remain calm, you just wanted to be in rhea’s presence.

before you could even know where you were going, a big pair of arms gently tapped on your back.

damian was standing behind of you with the biggest smile on his face. he always cared about you and he knew that you came for rhea and he couldn’t be happier you showed up.

“damian…” you softly said, trying not to show any discomfort.

“hey y/n! it’s so nice to see you here!” he was happy even though he just lost “i haven’t seen you in a while and” damian stopped the moment he saw you weren’t there listening to him “everything okay?”

you couldn’t find words so you simply shook your head no.

“anything i can do?” he was worried. he never saw you so distressed.

“rhea…” was all you managed to say before you completely shut down.

he nodded, gently taking your hand into his bigger ones and guiding you backstage. you felt extremely uncomfortable being surrounded by people who kept looking at you and you were so thankful that damian was there to shield you with his body.

backstage it was calmer but still a lot of people who were working and moving quickly.

your brain couldn’t process what was going on, just a millions thoughts that ran through your mind.

what if you stayed at home like rhea said? what if she was busy and didn’t want to see you? what if you were just being a liability for her?

too many thoughts that you didn’t even realise that the person damian was talking with was rhea. she was there, looking between your lost look and damian who was explaining her that he found you waking through the building.

she was worried. you were looking at her but your eyes weren’t there, you weren’t there.

“…baby?” her voice came from distance even if she was standing right in front of you.

you looked up immediately at her. meeting her worried eyes. your brain started to work and the moment damian gave you some privacy, you took a deep breath.

“everything okay baby? what’s going on?” rhea was standing there in front of you trying to see if you were hurt or if something worse happened but there was no sign of fighting on your body “can you tell me what’s going on baby, please?” she wanted to help so bad but didn’t know how.

again, you shook your head no.

you weren’t comfortable talking, you couldn’t trust your words in that moment and the fear of being constantly spied upon made your skin shiver.

rhea immediately understood from the way you were standing. your body language gave her all the answers she needed.

she knew that eventually you were gonna to explain what happened later, she knew it and she knew that in that moment you needed her. you needed her comfort and her presence.

“let’s take you somewhere calmer okay pretty girl?” she asked, not really waiting for a reply. she softly grabbed your hand and she led you towards her locker room.

sitting down on her couch, your brought your hands into your lap as a few tears fell from your eyes.

“baby…” she whispered seeing you so upset “hey, it’s okay baby, i’m here…whatever you’re going through, you’re not alone, i’m here” she said sitting next to you.

you tried to smile and quickly wiped your tears off.

“is it okay if i touch you? can i hold you in my arms?” rhea gently asked you and the moment you nodded ‘yes’ with your head, she immediately brought her muscular arms around your body, letting your head rest on her shoulder.

she whispered soft words, trying to ease your discomfort.

“…everything is okay baby, i’m here, you’re safe…i got you pretty girl” rhea hated seeing you cry. she thought that probably something happened with you and the crowds, cursing herself to let you come here without anyone by your side. she was glad you were there and safe in her arms.

your sobs slowed a little and you were able to catch your breath “easy pretty girl, everything’s okay…”

you looked at rhea and you found comfort in her presence. her smile and sweet look that she reserved only for you made your heart flutter.

“you’re safe with me love, you don’t have to explain it now…you’re safe, i’m here and i’m not going anywhere” she whispered wiping the remaining tears away from your face.

you nodded - words weren’t needed in that moment - and softly melted into her touch.

you knew you were safe, you had her by your side and nothing was going to happen to you.

[wpdarlingpan]

The Shadow (Thunderbolts*)

Beginning Yandere Yelena x Anxious!Widow Reader

Beginning Yandere Bob x Anxious!Widow Reader

(Could expand to all Thunderbolts)

Female Pronouns

Summary: Former widow reader feels out of place in the watchtower, Bob and Yelena are here to remind her that her place is with them, they are family after all.

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: Angst, Possible Spoilers, Depressive Thoughts, Anxiety, Use of Y/N, The Start Of Obsessive Behavior (let me know if I need to add more)

A/N: I absolutely loved the movie and had to write something for it so this is my first attempt. I hope it’s good and my requests are open (even if I may take awhile to get to them) so if you have any Thunderbolts ideas, let me know! <3

Being in the Watchtower after never having set a home for years was an odd experience, and from being on my own to having a team was an adjustment I hadn’t quite gotten used to.

I often sit in my room, as I am now, tucked into a window seat I requested from Valentina when we were able to decorate our rooms. As I stared out into the skyline, I couldn’t help but think why I was here.

John was… well, John. He was pretty good at acting like he was important.

Bucky was kind. Kinder to me than the others. Maybe he saw himself in me, or it’s because I’m too reserved to cause him trouble like the others.

Ava had her phasing abilities and was good at keeping up with the team's banter.

Alexei was like the team dad, supporting his kids' soccer team.

Yelena was a former Red Room assassin who paved her own path.

Bob is the strongest being on Earth.

Then there’s me. I can do what Yelena does, but not as efficiently, nor am I able to connect with others as she does.

Growing up in the Red Room made her want to help others and grow beyond what they wanted her to become. To me, it stunted me. I’ve never been able to move on. Every time I close my eyes, I see Katerina, the girl I killed on my first test to show my worth to the Red Room and almost desensitize my emotions from death.

She got out, she saved me and the other widows from Dreykov while I couldn’t even remember my name. Yelena was the new Black Widow, rightfully so, while I’m her shadow.

We have dinner together every night at Alexei’s insistence, and it was not like anyone really had any other plans. But even when we sit together, I feel the pressure of their stares. As if they are waiting for me to speak up.

I try to spend time with them so that they don't feel like they have a ghost in their home, but it is not much.

John and I watch television while he talks about something, and I listen.

Ava and I usually train or practice her abilities, I time her as she works on phasing for longer than a minute. 

Alexei makes me nervous; he is loud but never has said anything rude, although he makes me nervous when he says to speak up when he can't hear me.

Bucky and I usually read together, or sometimes he lets me stick magnets on his arm. That ones rare but it’s mainly when he can tell I need to fiddle with something.

Bob and I usually seem to just exist in the same space, letting ourselves use each other to be a lingering presence to keep us from the void.

Yelena… I avoid Yelena. I can’t face her; we know what the other has gone through, and I still can't bring myself to talk to her about it. She seems to be handling things better than I am, and I don't want to hold her back. She was older than I in the academy and advanced further than I did before we escaped, yet she found who she is, and I am still looking.

I can tell she wants to talk to me, it’s in the way she looks at me at dinner or the way her mouth opens slightly when I rush past her in the hallways. Even when she makes a sarcastic comment, most likely to Alexei or John, and I can’t help but laugh, I never say anything more.

I don’t even know why I’m here. I just am not special- I am cut off from my thoughts by a knock at the door. Looking over I spot Bob shyly poking his head in.

“Hey Y/N,” He stuttered out, not moving into the doorway yet as he rocked on the balls of his feet.

“Hey Bob,” I say softly, beckoning him inside. He lets out a small smile before joining me on the window seat. This had been a common occurrence for the past few weeks. He’d come in whenever he was overwhelmed by the team or simply to see me, as he claimed. I don’t see what he sees in me, yet he seems oddly attached.

I was surrounded by people, yet I felt just as alone as before. I was no hero to be worshipped, and the public agrees.

We sit in silence, and I appreciate it, while a part of me longs to reach out and start a conversation with the man who seems so easily approachable, yet I cannot even make the first step.

He reaches into his pocket, and I tense up nervously before he pulls out a simple locket. It was silver with a small star on the end. I look at him questioningly as he hands it over to me.

"Just in case you forget," Bob replied simply and tucked his hands away, surly twirling them nervously in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

I fiddle with it slightly before opening it. It was a picture of me and him on one side and the team on the other. I grip it tightly before looking up at him, confused.

“I can see the look on your face. The longing for a connection as you watch people around you smile at one another. But you are so deep in your own head that when people look at you, you see judging eyes over the soft smiles. I only say this because that was me. Before them and before you,” He spoke, pointing at the group in the picture. Each of them had their heads turned and were smiling at me in their own way, as my own was tucked. Although Alexei was just a corner of the face as he looked like he was taking the picture while looking at us. 

I stare at him wide-eyed. I realized I was not exactly hiding my feelings, but I was not expecting to be approached about them like this. Nor do I even remember the picture being taken.

“I-I just.” I couldn't bring myself to say anything more as he shook his head with a shy smile before grabbing the necklace from my hand and leaning in to put it on me. I close my eyes in fear of having someone so close, even though a part of me probably yearns for any physical connection. 

“Everyone cares about you in their own way. You just gotta open your eyes and see it… Don’t just tuck the void down. It’ll overflow and explode one day, I would know.” He tries to tease at his own expense before reaching over for my hand.

I stare at him in slight anticipation before a knock on the door interrupts us. Yelena is standing there, a hand still on the door as she looks at us.

“Did not realize we were having a heart-to-heart. I am getting good at those.” She says, walking into the room. “Can I have a second with Y/N, Bob?”

She looks at him expectantly as she stands in front of his spot at the window. I look at him desperately trying to tell him not to leave me. He seems to consider it for a moment before looking back at Yelena and nodding. 

“I’ll come back after.” He reassures softly, looking down at the necklace and smiling slightly before walking out and shutting the door. 

I curl into myself more at the thought of talking, let alone with only Yelena. 

“Why don’t you like me?” She asks straightforwardly, sitting down in front of me as she looks into my eyes as if she is staring into my soul.

“I don't not-” 

“Every time you see me, you run away, and even at dinner, you sit as far away from me as possible.” Yelena cuts me off immediately, and I gape at her, trying to find the right words. “Did I… Did I do something to you? In the Red Room?” 

She looks at me expectantly, but I can see the lingering heartbreak behind her eyes as she asks me that question. I did not even consider her resorting to that.

“No! No you didn't.” She lets out a sigh of relief “I just, you have been handling all this New Avenger stuff so well and connected with everyone on the team. You guys are like a family, a dysfunctional one, but still a family. I feel like a part of your past lingering behind you.”

Yeelan stares at me silently. I begin to fiddle with my fingers, and she reaches over, grabbing my hands into her own. I froze momentarily, not expecting this reaction before looking up at her. 

“You are a part of my past I would rather leave behind, yes, but that doesn't mean you are the one who hurt me. I see you, and I see the first good thing I did. You fought your way out once you were released, and I have never been so proud. And I only act like I am a good Avenger, I had the best model, you know.” She nudges me slightly with a smile.

“Natasha?” 

“My sister.” She confirms with a nod. “She was my older sister and without her I don't know what I would've done.”

“An older sister,” I say wistfully. Someone who would protect me, someone who could be that guiding light- I shake my head to knock myself out of the fantasy.

“You are not beneath me in any way, you are so strong. Stronger than I was at your age, and you have so much farther to go. To make a new name for yourself. You don't have to be a widow. Hell, if you don’t want to fight, I will keep you off of missions. But, maybe you can give me a chance to be for you what Natasha was for me. An older sister.”

My heart beats sporadically out of my chest as the locket and her hands ground me to the earth. A sister? After all of this?

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. I won't let you be ever again. Just let me in.” 

“Yes,” I whisper, and I see the joy in her eyes as her hands hold me slightly tighter. Completely missing the flicker of obsession growing behind them.

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[hiraethwrote]

PUT YOU FIRST

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : you're the only thing beside volleyball tobio has been wholeheartedly devoted to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you, no matter how painful it might be cw : angst, no comfort, exes/breakup, pining, crying, miscommunication, post timeskip, ali roma!tobio, no use of y/n word count : 2.2k

ex!tobio who breaks your heart when he haphazardly agrees, almost without a second thought.

neither of you can recall how the idea found a footing in the first place, but the word ‘breakup’ is brought up, and suddenly it’s a reality.

“if that is what you think is best, then okay.”

ex!tobio who packs up his stuff and leaves as soon as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort by overstaying his welcome.

he’s quiet as a mouse as he carefully moves around the apartment to collect it all, listening to your sobs and cries that never seem to stop.

is this what he wants? absolutely not. you’re his entire world. there is absolutely no limit to the lengths he would go to for you — anything, without question.

even if that is breaking up.

ex!tobio who you now believe to be agreeable to a fault.

it is a fact people are baffled about once you tell them. everyone just believe him to be as ruthless and angry as he is on the court — but you can easily go on for hours about how once you get him on your own, there are no signs of the hard edge to him that everyone else see.

with you he is soft. kind. patient.

and up until now, you have considered it to be one of his many admirable qualities.

however, it is not something you appreciate when it regards the fate of your relationship.

ex!tobio who is, in reality, exactly the person everyone believes him to be.

he has heard it from an early age; “why do you always have to be so mean, kageyama?”, “you really are selfish, kageyama,” “let’s see how far that attitude gets you, kageyama.”

people have refused to see him as anything more than his stubbornness, therefore he sees no reason to make them believe otherwise. they have already made up their mind.

you are the first person to try and give him the benefit of the doubt.

“are you okay, tobio?,” “let me know if there’s something i can do for you, tobio,”, “i believe in you, tobio.”

ex!tobio who might be agreeable to a fault, but it is only with you.

meeting someone who takes the time to see past his outburst is something he knows he wants to cherish — he is not going to scare you away.

no fight, no argument, no disagreement is that important that it is worth the risk of losing you.

so he puts his pride aside — he will always put you first, even if it means he is miserable.

ex!tobio who therefore agrees to a breakup under the belief that he thinks it’s what you want — what’s best for you.

your world shatters as he closes the door behind him.

suddenly you feel like the entire relationship was as a scam, too good to be true.

why was it so easy for him to walk away? how was he able to hear how your broken heart drew unruly sob after sob from your lips as he folded his clothes into his suitcase? why couldn’t he fight for you?

you’re left with the impression of simply being a convenience to him, someone he could use for comfort when he needed it. and once that lost its value, he had no trouble tossing you aside.

and maybe he is exactly that person everyone has told you he was.

ex!tobio who feels a new sense of agitated restlessness take residence in his body once you’re not part of his life anymore.

it’s only when you’re gone that he realises how much you have softened him. his mind had somehow found peace it never knew existed before you came around, and suddenly it’s just gone.

he becomes angry again. short tempered as he snaps at the first inconvenience he faces.

his teammates, who has only ever known him while he was devoted to you, are left stunned at his outburst in the locker room before the season’s first match.

“what the hell has gotten into you, kageyama?”

ex!tobio who hopes your watching, even though he has no right to your attention anymore.

and of course you are. once upon a time you had promised him you would be there for all of his moments — one way or another.

under different circumstances, you would have been in the stands. the loudest person in the crowd as you watch him perform his art — instead a blaring alarm wakes you up a quarter to four in the middle of the night.

grumpily you force yourself out of bed. you curse yourself, even though you know very well this is something you’re doing of your own free will. you have no obligation to him anymore, and it’s not like he will know if you’re watching or not. you could very easily turn off the alarm, pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep, drift back into dreamland where you are still together.

but instead you bring your duvet with you into the dark living room, wrap it around yourself and switch the tv on, the sports channel that’s airing his match already on. with a yawn, you make yourself comfortable, laying down on your side and tucking your hand under your cheek.

the match is about to start, and the camera pans to tobio, showering him with praise as the talented setter he is — it doesn’t take long before you feel a quiet tear roll down your cheek. and as the game goes on, the stream continues steadily and silent.

oh, how you miss him.

ex!tobio who is a different type of nervous during the match, because it feels wrong to not have you in the audience.

on instinct, he keeps shooting glances to where you would have been sitting if you were to attend, hoping to meet your eyes. without fail, you would always look at him with such pride whenever he played.

it gave him an extra little push, having such a desire to impress you — and he looked forward to the little post-match ritual the two of you had developed.

the buzzer would end the match, declaring his victory — and while he thanked the opposing team for the game, you would hurry down from the stands.

in the halls of the stadium, you find him before they reach their wardrobe. the blush quickly blossoms across his cheeks when his teammates start teasing him.

“here she comes, champ,” one of them snickers, shoving his shoulder lightly before they all head on — but he remains.

without another second to waste, you launch at him, limbs latching on around his neck while his arms secure you in his grip, lifting you off the ground. his stance is steady — safe — as he spins you around before putting you down gently again.

the second your toes touches the floor, your hands cup his face to guide him closer. as your lips graze his, you say the same phrase you always do, “didn’t i say i believed in you?” before sealing the kiss.

but he know that won’t meet him this time. instead he’ll be alone, joining his team straight for the wardrobe.

ex!tobio who for the first time considers being selfish with you.

and he hates himself for it.

that was the one thing he was determined not to be with you — and here he is considering it, phone in hand with your number dialled.

his life is turned upside down, nothing resembling what he has grown so accustomed to. and on every aspect, he feels himself going through what he believes have to be withrdrawls.

ex!tobio is back in japan.

your mouth runs dry when you walk by the newspaper kiosk, his familiar face printed on the front page of a sports magazine. one of japan’s star athletes is returning to his home country for a tournament.

at first you’re hit with a small pang of anger — why hasn’t he told you?

and realisation hits you all over again, and yet another evening is spent alone in your apartment with wet cheeks.

however, it’s worse than it has been in a long time. somehow your body knows that he is in the same city as you for the first time in months, and it causes your heart to ache.

you don’t sleep at all that night. instead you toss and turn with the image of your past love printed behind your eyelids.

no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen him, every detail is still intact in your memory. the exact shade of blue his irises are. the way the blush is easily brought to his face, starting across his nose before spreading across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. how he always tilts his head a little to the right when he is confused. the way his shoulders rise and fists clench when he is building up courage.

you remember it all.

ex!tobio who knows it’s naive to think you’ll show.

but it doesn’t stop him from letting his investigative stare roam the audience. one would think it is hopeless to even begin to look, but he knows he’ll spot you if you are in fact there.

he will always find you.

the game runs its course, and despite his best efforts, he never spots you in the crowd.

it doesn’t really matter that he wins the first match he plays for ali roma in his home country — because you’re not there to celebrate with him.

ex!tobio who freezes in his tracks as he is about to enter the men’s wardrobe when he hears you call his name.

“tobio?”

you voice is meek, like you’re scared. and truth be told, you are. he can clearly tell — the constant shifting of weight between each leg and the nervous fidgeting of your fingers clear indicators of so.

it’s a new feeling to take you hostage when in tobio’s presence.

for a second there’s utter silence before he hears the faint whispers of his teammates behind him, before they eventually shuffle on to leave you two alone.

he remains completely still in his spot. “hey,” he breaths, and you both immediately pick up on the fact that you’re not the only one who is nervous. he continues to stumble over his words, hoping your natural warm presence will eventually melt him out of his stance. “it’s good to see you.”

you pull your lips into an awkward smile. you too — the two words sit restlessly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason you’re unable to speak them into existence.

“great match! you played really well!”

he knows you’re smearing on thick, serving him a little white lie. because despite winning, he didn’t performed nearly as well as he could have. maybe being back home, knowing you were easily a car ride away, had messed with his head.

“thanks,” he says even though he can’t help but quirk a suspect eyebrow. “i didn’t see you. in the audience.”

“i watched from the hallway entrance. you know, the one in the top to the left?” it makes sense why he hadn’t seen you. tobio wouldn’t have been able to see anyone up there in that lighting. “and i also came late.”

“oh. okay.”

oh. okay.

he feels stupid as the sorry excuse for a response leaves his lips, but the unexpected reunion has caused his brain you temporarily short circuit.

“i wasn’t even sure if i should come,” you avert your gaze, tilting it to look at your own fingers.

“glad you did,” he says, wishing he could have mustered a steadier speech than he did.

there’s a whirlwind of turmoil causing havoc inside him, as he debates whether or not he should seize this moment that the universe has served him and finally let himself be selfish with you.

it’s so tempting. especially when you’re nearly within reach. he only needs to take five steps forward and he can pull you into him and have you rest your cheek against his chest like you always used to.

ex!tobio who dares take three steps closer at first.

when you look up at him again, he is scared you’ll step away once you see he is standing closer. but if anything, it looks as if you relax, lips parting with a soft sigh as you look at him with such awe in your eyes.

“how are you?” you ask innocently, knowing the answer you’ll get is not the answer you want.

he shrugs nonchalantly. “not too bad,” he lies, and he hopes you’ll call him out for it. “been busy.”

“so i’ve seen,” you try to smile, but you’re almost certain your sadness swallows it.

“you have?” there is a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone.

“of course,” you nod. “promised i would, didn’t i?”

and for the first time during your conversation, he smiles genuinely. it’s faint, almost unnoticeable, but it’s there and it’s so typical tobio.

ex!tobio who finally decides he cannot fight his desires anymore. your gentle affirmation, a reminder of your devotion to each other, wis the last drop that madke the glass run over.

he says your name, and you tilt your head at him.

“yeah?”

“i still love you.”

author's note : just need to remind you all i still love him... even tho this might not be the fic that proves it hehe

tags (open — link to taglist form) : @nishislcve . @ichore . @megapteraurelia . @loveyislost . @momoewn . @poopooindamouf tobio nation : @hiraethwa . @shouyuus . @silkloom . @sodaneko . @mcdonaldsnumberone

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[bucketbueckers]

TEAM BUECKERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, kinda silly, kinda rushed

wc: 5.9k

synopsis: For you and Paige, the line between “friends” and “something more” wasn’t always this blurry. You weren’t quite sure how you got here, and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to ever cross that line fully. It’s not until Paige ropes you into a Valentine’s Day couples contest you realize, with the two of you, that line never really existed at all.

notes: happy (late) valentines day 😋 yes i'm posting this after midnight on february 15 and yes i tried my best to get this out on the 14th when it was, you know, actually valentines day, but i fumbled majorly and im like 50% sorry. not proofread bc im sleepy. i lowkey don't know how to feel about this but i think the end makes up for it but i had an idea for this and it honestly derailed. i still don't know how taglists work (if you've asked and you're not on here, i'm sorry i will just throw up and die if i tag someone who doesn't actually want to be tagged in all of my works i hope u understand, pls be super specific my brain doesn't function like it used to) uhhh so yeah lmk what we think & happy vday 🫶

tags: @jnkbueckers

You and Paige weren’t always like this. There used to be a clear boundary in your friendship, a strictly platonic one where her embrace didn’t make your heart race and where her mischievous smile didn’t fill you with an exasperation that bordered on endearment. You didn’t always wear her jersey at games, didn’t always keep her favorite ice cream stocked in your apartment for nights she came over to binge watch the same show the both of you have probably seen a combined thousand times, didn’t always confuse where you begin or where she ends. There used to be a time where the two of you weren’t so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives. 

If anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to identify when everything shifted – when your feelings transformed into what they are now. It just happened. The realization was as easy as waking up next to her on the couch, your legs tangled under a blanket far too small for the both of you, her arm tight around your waist to prevent you from falling off of the cushions entirely. It was as easy as the spare toothbrush you keep in your bathroom because she sleeps over so often, as easy as the drawer you have in her room because sometimes her dorm is just closer than your apartment.

So maybe it was kind of inevitable that ‘you and Paige’ turned into a ‘You & Paige.’ The two of you have a simple understanding. You keep her grounded, she encourages you to dream a little bigger. You talk, she listens. You round each other out in so many ways that you’re not the least bit surprised by how many people think that you and Paige are dating. If anything, they’re more surprised when you correct them, saying, “She’s just my best friend.”

You’re content to take your feelings for her to the grave. Maybe you would get over her eventually. She’s Paige Bueckers. She has a national championship and the upcoming draft to focus on and you have your senior thesis due at the end of the semester. The both of you have a lot on your plates – you care for her too much to complicate things for her, even if that means putting your own feelings on the back-burner.

You’re sitting on your couch, twelve pages into your paper, sifting through the twenty-eight (yes, twenty-eight) tabs you have open for your research when you hear your door knob jiggle. You don’t think too much of it, trying to stay focused on the task in front of you before you give up and start scrolling through social media again. However, your discipline doesn’t last for too long because the familiar rhythm of footsteps could only belong to one person. You look up to find Paige making her way into your living room like she owns the place (which she may as well, considering how often she’s around), depositing her duffle bag on the armchair. You greet her, returning to your work, but you feel the couch dip under her weight as she takes a seat next to you.

And then she sighs. Loudly. Dramatically, like she’s begging for your attention. Like you’re not busy. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finding her staring straight at you, but she says nothing. A few beats pass. You add a new sentence to your paper, pausing to go back and find the reference page. She sighs again, more purpose and intent behind it this time, and your lips quirk slightly. Still, she says nothing, and the silence stretches on for so long that you’re sure she’s given up on trying to annoy you.

You write one more sentence before she leans over, sprawling out across your body, chin pressing into your keyboard. Your eye twitches as a long string of ‘M’s takes over your Word document. Paige sighs again, sounding forlorn, like a kicked puppy, and you know you’re not going to get anything done unless you entertain her.

“Okay,” you say, pulling your computer out from under her head, making sure to save your paper before you close the lid. “What’s wrong?”

Her face brightens almost immediately. “I am so glad you asked,” she states. “So, I’m walkin’ through campus today, right?”

“As one does.”

She hums. “And there’s a shit ton of tabling outside the student union. Frats, clubs, some vegan guy giving out pamphlets –”

“Paige,” you interrupt, raising a brow. “The point?”

“Oh.” She nods, collecting her thoughts. “So there was this club – forgot who they were, lowkey, there was a lot of letters – but on Friday, they’re hostin’ a Valentine’s Day contest and the first place prize is insane. I’m talking gift cards, cookie decorating kits, I think there was even a coupon in there for a fucking spa trip, or some shit, but you get the point, yeah? I wanted to sign us up for it.”

You had to admit – you were a little intrigued by it. Between your class work and Paige and her teammates giving you an aneurysm every week, you were in dire need of a spa trip and a little bit of relaxation. But more than anything else in the world, you knew Paige. You recognized that gleam in her expression – it was a feigned nonchalance, like she was being slick and trying to hide it. “What’s the catch?” you ask bluntly.

She laughs, the sound more surprised than amused, and her head shifts in your lap to gaze up at you. You try to ignore the way it sets off a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “What makes you think there’s a catch?” she asks.

“You’re Paige Bueckers,” you state. “There’s always a catch. Like I knew there was a catch when you asked me if I would hide fourteen blonde wigs in my apartment.”

“They were for CD!” she argues. You narrow your eyes at her and she huffs a little, amused, her lips quirking into a radiant smile. “A’ight. I guess you got a point.” You hum, because of course you do. Her expression turns serious as she sighs, for real this time. “It’s a couple’s contest,” she admits. “But hear me out, okay?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” you grumble, but your mind is racing.

“There’s a couple rounds,” she explains. “Like, the first round is trivia. How well do you know your partner, type shit. They score you, then they eliminate the people who don’t know shit about their partners. Second round is teamwork. They’ll give you a couple of puzzles and the most points will go to the teams who work well together and solve the puzzle quickly. More eliminations, then the partners are separated and they’re asked questions about each other – about what, I’on know. That should be the final round of eliminations and then the remaining couples are ranked based on points and prizes are given. Light work.”

“Light work?” you echo, a little self-deprecating. “Paige, we aren’t a couple.”

“Well, not exactly,” she concedes. “But we know each other pretty well. And can you really say no to the spa coupon?”

You bite your lip, sighing as you truly contemplate it. She’s got you there. The prize itself is worth the heartache that will come with pretending like you and Paige are actually dating. “You sure we can handle it?” you ask.

She pats your side, almost ignorant of the way it sends electricity coursing down your spine. “Duh,” she says like it’s obvious, her lips growing into a confident, assured smile. “We’re a dream team, baby. We got this.”

You could only hope so.

You nervously adjust your dress as you and Paige stand outside of the large room that the Valentine’s Day contest was taking place in. You spent the entire week leading up to Valentine’s Day an anxious wreck – part of you was worried that you would slip up and say something that you would come to regret, maybe say something a little too real. You had to keep reminding yourself that you and Paige were playing a part and once that gift basket was in your hands, then things could go back to normal. 

The two of you dedicated the better part of the week to perfecting your cover story. How you met, where you met, how long you’ve been together, all of the cheesy romance milestone moments that you were certain you’d be asked about. You mutually decided to not get too creative as maintaining the lie would become even more difficult, but you were confident in your ability to sell a story.

“You ready?” Paige asks you, drawing you from your racing thoughts as she squeezes your hand gently. You didn’t even realize her hand had slipped into yours. Now that you’re aware of it, it’s all you can think of. Her hand is strong, enveloping yours completely, and it brings you a calming peace you weren’t even aware that you’d been seeking out. Feeling yourself relax, you meet her eyes and nod, trying not to smile too hard when she beams at you.

As she leads the two of you inside the auditorium, you do your best to not stare too much at her. She’s dressed simply yet elegantly; donning a fitting suit that’s a light pink in color in honor of the occasion, the fluorescent lights overhead reflecting off of her stunning chains and the rings adorning her fingers. Her hair is tied back in her formal slick-back, the diamonds in her ears sparkling, and you really have to drag your eyes off of her. You’d already spent so much of the drive over staring at her and you’re sure she’d caught you a few times but was too nice to say anything to you.

The event had a decent turn out. You count fourteen couples at most, fifteen including you and Paige, although you couldn’t really tell if that was good or bad. Beating fourteen other real, actual, dedicated, in-love couples was totally manageable. So what if you and Paige weren’t actually together, but you were the most convincing pair of best friends the world had ever seen? She said you could do it, and damn it if you weren’t going to get that spa treatment.

The auditorium, however, was decorated to the nines. Lights and streamers were strewn about, various complementing shades of pinks and lilacs matching the Valentine’s Day themes. The tables were covered in pink tablecloths with gorgeous centerpieces. Honestly, you had to give props where they were due – this club has gone all out for this Valentine’s Day event, although you’re sure they probably splurged their semesterly budget on all of the amenities.

Before you or Paige have the chance to say anything to each other, you’re approached by a young woman wearing a pink polo shirt with the club's name and logo emblazoned on the chest. UConn, UMatter. You glance quickly at Paige, trying not to let the amusement show on your face as you remember her words – ‘There was a lot of letters.’ She was so full of shit. “Hi guys!” the young woman greets enthusiastically. “Thanks so much for signing up. What’s the last name?”

“Bueckers.”

The girl nods, scanning her clipboard before finding Paige’s name. “Okay, perfect. Let me show you guys to your table.” She leads you diligently through the room, craning her head over her shoulder to explain. “Madelyn’s gonna be around soon to walk you guys through the trivia section once we start, alright? She’ll let you guys know everything you need.”

You and Paige thank the club member and she offers you two one last smile as the two of you sit down next to each other. Paige’s hand finds your knee, almost subconsciously, and you try to find your dignity. It’s then that you notice the placecard in front of you – elegant script reading TEAM BUECKERS. With a quiet laugh, you nudge Paige’s elbow, drawing her attention to the paper. “‘Team Bueckers,’ huh?” you ask her teasingly. “You forget about me?”

“Never,” she swears. “I think they assign the names based on who registered. Trust me, I had a name lined up and everything. We were gonna be PB & Slay.”

You snort. “I’m Slay?”

“No,” she deadpans. “You’re PB. Keep up, please.”

“Of course,” you say obviously, like it’s definitely your fault. “I’ll do better next time.” She squeezes your knee under the table, smiling wryly at you.

Once everyone filters in, the girl who’d greeted you at the door makes her way to the front of the room, adjusting the microphone. She introduces herself as the president of the UConn, UMatter club, explaining some of their objectives and goals for the spring semester – you tune out a lot of it, which you’ll probably feel bad for later, but you weren’t here for the club recruitment. You were here for the pedicure that was calling your name this weekend. She makes it through the rest of her opening remarks, officially announcing the beginning of the first challenge: trivia. Several club members make their way to designated tables and a short, brunette girl takes a seat in front of you and Paige.

“Hey, guys,” she says, grinning widely and handing the both of you dry erase boards and a marker each. “I’m Madelyn. I’m gonna walk the two of you through today’s challenges. We’ll go back and forth – you answer one, then the other, so on and so forth. If your answers are the same, then you’ll get a point. Ready?” You and Paige hum affirmatively. “Alright. Question for Paige – when is your partner’s birthday?”

Paige huffs, her lips quirking into a smile as she uncaps her marker. “Light work,” she murmurs as she writes her answer down. “It’s a national holiday.” You roll your eyes as Madelyn laughs. Paige flips the dry erase board around, showcasing it to you and Madelyn, and you nod as Madelyn awards you both one point.

“Same question for you,” Madelyn says to you. “When is Paige’s birthday?”

You uncap your marker and write down your answer. October 20, 2001. “The world hasn’t known peace since,” you murmur under your breath, drawing laughter from Paige. You flip your board around and Paige nods smugly.

“Two for two,” Madelyn states. “Next question for Paige. What trait of yours is your partner’s favorite?”

You and Paige exchange a glance, her brow raising teasingly. She writes down her answer and you do the same, eventually flipping your boards over for the reveal. The two of you hadn’t exactly prepared well to answer this one, so you were hoping that you and Paige were on the same wavelength. You lean forward, glancing at her whiteboard, and smiling with relief when you see her answer: she likes my energy. Paige’s smile is smug, but there’s an underlying softness in her eyes. “Don’t laugh at me,” you huff, trying to explain. “You just — you have this way about you, like you’re kind, warm, you make people smile, and you always support them. You’re just genuinely good and, I don’t know, I really like that about you.”

Paige’s smile isn’t any less confident, although she seems a little bashful now, her cheeks tinging pink. “Three for three.” she says.

Madelyn tries to stifle her grin, but it’s clearly not working. “Next question is for you. When Paige is having a rough time, how do you help her relax?”

“With great difficulty,” you gripe, making Paige and Madelyn snort as you write your actual answer. By forcing her to chill the fuck out. You and Paige flip your boards, hers reading a much politer She makes me do nothing all day. Madelyn nods, awarding you the point, but you hardly pay her any mind as you meet Paige’s eyes. “You do too much,” you say, which makes her groan. “You overwork yourself and you microdose a burnout and I have to make you sit down and remember that you’re human.”

“You’re worse than me!” she points out.

You sniff. “This is about you,” you declare, “not me.” Paige rolls her eyes fondly, but she can’t help her laughter. 

“Next question,” Madelyn says, grinning. “Paige, what did you guys do on your first date?”

This was a question that the two of you had prepared for. You both decided that a little bit of the truth went a long way and the truth was that you and Paige had no shortage of quasi-dates that you could easily draw from. You tried not to think too hard about that as the two of you write down your answers. You turn your boards, revealing similar responses of ‘we went to her dorm and made dinner together after one of her games.’

You glance at Paige and she sighs. “Don’t start,” she pleads. 

“I’m actually a little invested now,” Madelyn chirps, which makes you grin and makes Paige bury her head in her hands. 

“All I’ll say is that Paige shouldn’t be in the kitchen without supervision but I really admire her, um, willingness to get creative,” you say kindly. Your best friend pinches your thigh under the table and you jerk back, laughing. Not wanting to embarrass her in front of a stranger, you leave it at that, although you smile at Paige like you’re the only two at the table. “I had a good time, though. She made it memorable.” She smiles back at you, something tender that has your heart constricting. 

The both of you knew the truth, though. Paige was not a good cook. She doesn’t make terrible food — dinner was delicious, but Paige is chaotic and an actual hazard. Watching her chop an onion hurt something deep inside you although she’d seemed so proud of herself. You didn’t have the heart to make fun of her. 

“Five for five,” Madelyn says, drawing your attention back to her. “Next question for you. Who confessed to who?”

You and Paige lock eyes again, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, and you write down her name. You turn your boards, Paige’s name written on the both of them and you smile to yourself. “She was pretty oblivious,” Paige says, referring to you, and your smile falls as your jaw hits the ground. “I dropped so many hints and she just didn’t pick up on them. I eventually got tired—”

“Desperate,” you cut in. 

“Tired,” she emphasizes, smirking at you, “so I planned out this huge romantic thing and at the end, she still didn’t understand so I told her straight up.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you’re just not as slick as you think,” you tell her. 

“Nah,” Paige says. “I’m super romantical.”

“Sure,” you concede. 

Madelyn stifles her smile. “Alright. Two more questions for both of you. Paige, what is your partner’s pet peeve?”

“If you get this wrong,” you grumble, hearing Paige snicker as the two of you write down your answers. After you flip your boards, she grins proudly when your answers line up. 

“She hates not being taken seriously,” Paige recites. “She’s an English major. People always think it’s just easy or unimportant shit, like reading and writing papers, but she actually does a lot of interesting analysis and stuff that I never even considered. I’ll admit I was a little ignorant but she set me straight.”

“Wait, I didn’t know you thought that,” you say, honestly confused. 

She shrugs, a little bashful. “I talk a lot but I listen. Sometimes when you leave the room, I’ll read your paper just so I can ask better questions. You get all… glowy. And… I’on know. I like seeing you happy.”

You blink once at her, genuinely touched, and if you weren’t head over heels for Paige before then you definitely are now. She squeezes your knee again, her smile crooked yet tender. Damn it. You are hopeless. 

“That’s so sweet.” You’re a little shocked by Madelyn’s voice, but you clear your throat, refocusing. “Next one for you. What’s Paige’s least favorite season?”

“That’s easy,” you say, writing your answer down. Paige does the same. When you flip your boards, you glance at Paige’s, smiling wryly. “Paige hates spring. She has really bad allergies and all of the pollen is honestly a death sentence, so she’ll get all congested and sneezy and will spend a good two weeks bitching about it and how it makes her Jeep dirty.”

You glance at Paige, waiting for her to say something, but she just shrugs with a smug expression. “Last question for Paige,” Madelyn says. “What is something your partner does to show her love for you?”

Neither of you say anything, but Paige stares at you thoughtfully, another silent conversation passing between you. You don’t need to think about your answer as you write it down. On cue, you both flip your boards, Paige’s reading simply, She takes care of me. You can’t help the way your heart swells, a fond smile overtaking your face. “Before you, I wasn’t really the… you know, the receiver, I guess. Always in control, always expected to lead. You make me feel like I can just be me, which is really hard sometimes.” Paige laughs off the vulnerability, but you see right through it – the painful honesty.

“We’re equals,” you remind her, nudging her leg with your knee. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her voice soft as she gazes at you. “I’m glad that we do.”

You spot Madelyn out of the corner of your eye, which sobers you up quickly. She smiles. “You guys are so cute,” she gushes. “Final question for you and we’re done with this round. What is Paige’s love language?”

You feel Paige’s stare on you as you write, but you don’t glance back at her. You can hear the scribble of her marker, her capping it. When you’re finished, you finally look at her, taking in the soft expression on her face, and despite yourself, a smile grows on your face too. Together, you turn your boards, your answers being the exact same once more — quality time and physical touch. “Ten for ten, baby,” you croon, raising your hand for her to smack her palm against.

“Great job!” Madelyn says. “Let me just go submit these scores and I’ll be back to walk you guys through the puzzle round after eliminations. Sit tight.” She offers the two of you a quick grin before she’s walking off.

“Ten for ten,” Paige repeats, nudging you a little. “We’re like that?”

“I guess we’re actually kinda good at this friends thing,” you retort, although part of you wishes you were anything but.

Paige’s subsequent grin is far too knowing, like she has a trick up her sleeve. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh a little under your breath, adjusting your dress and leaning back in your chair to get comfortable. Before you know it, the scores are officially in. You and Paige had a perfect one, so you weren’t all too worried about getting eliminated in the first round, but five unlucky couples ended up leaving. The two of you watched from afar, trying not to stare too hard at the retreating couples, although they made it hard. One girl walked out crying, gesturing wildly as her partner trailed behind her, a desperate expression on her face. Another one was pure anger, slamming the door behind her. You didn’t think that this club contest would get people so riled up, but you considered that it was probably the realization that your partner truly didn’t know anything about you. You just lucked out with Paige – she understood you.

Madelyn returns quickly and cuts straight to the point. She instructs you and Paige to stand up, handing the both of you a towel, and adjusts your arms until you’re holding the towels perpendicular to each other, almost intertwined. “The goal here is to separate from each other, but it can be tricky because the towels will tangle you up. We’re looking to see how fast you can solve this puzzle and how well the two of you work together. Are you guys ready?” You and Paige nod and Madelyn grins again. “Alright. You can start.”

Instantly, the room around you two is sheer pandemonium. The couples around you are moving quickly, trying to untangle themselves, but it’s clear that the panic is settling in. You and Paige exchange a glance, laughing to each other softly. “Game plan?” she asks you.

“We need to get these like…not perpendicular,” you offer helpfully, and Paige nods, adjusting her arms. The angle change makes your towels bunch up and twist at their centers.

“Spin around,” she instructs. You do as so, the towels untwisting around the middle. You pause to analyze your situation, trying to plan out the moves in your head as Paige does the same.

“Okay, bring your towel over my head and let me step through it.” After that move, the both of you glance down, taking in your situation.

Paige hums. “The rest is easy,” she says. You nod in agreement, a silent understanding passing between the two of you and you move in tandem, twisting and shifting and stepping up until you’re both finally separating from each other in record time, having completed the puzzle. “We’re like that?” she asks you again, her expression smug and satisfied in a way that’s only comparable to when she’s on the court and her lips are curling after sinking a contested three point shot.

“Dream team,” you remind her, letting the victory wash over you, clapping your hand against hers, although she doesn’t immediately release you, squeezing your hand with a proud smile.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen anyone solve it that quickly,” Madelyn admits. “Or that calmly.” As soon as she says it, a commotion from the other side of the room draws your attention. There’s one couple that are twisted so unnaturally that it looks like they’re playing Twister, but it seems that the girl gets tired of the shenanigans because she drops her towel and storms out with a frustrated yell. “Case in point.”

You laugh and Madelyn walks away again to tally the points and make their final eliminations. Once everything is set, five couples remain out of the initial fifteen. After the last challenge, two couples will be eliminated once more and the remaining three will be given prizes in order of points. You and Paige were determined to finish strong – if the first two challenges were any indicator, you two had this in the bag. True to Paige’s word, the couples were being split up for the last challenge, and she offers you a competitive smile as Madelyn whisks her away.

You pass the time on your phone although Paige isn’t gone for long. However, what does shock you is the sudden bashfulness that’s clear as day on her features, like the last challenge had made her confess something important or she had to be vulnerable. You can’t help the sudden worry that seizes your body, but Paige rests a hand on your hip, squeezing you once with a confident smile. It couldn’t be that bad.

Madelyn leads you into an adjacent room where the president of the club is sitting at a table waiting for you. She smiles when you enter, motioning to the seat across from her, and it feels strangely like entering the principal’s office in elementary school, like you’re in trouble for something. The club president doesn’t spare any time for pleasantries and instead cuts right to the chase, something that you’re grateful for.

“I’m not gonna take up anymore of your time, but after seeing you and your partner perform so well in this contest, I only have two questions for you,” she explains. “This is our second year running this contest and no one has scored as high as you two have, which is kind of insane because the third round scores haven’t been added yet.” You smile politely, honestly unsure of what to say, but the club president continues. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Going on three months,” you respond, thinking back to the timeline you and Paige had agreed on, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. You are a little surprised by how real your next words feel. “We were best friends for a really long time before then – we still are. Paige is just…that kind of person that makes you feel like you’ve spent forever with her, you know?”

The club president hums, agreeing. She pauses before glancing up at you, studying your features. “What’s something that you haven’t told your girlfriend, but you would want her to know?”

You hardly need the time to think about your answer, responding, “That I love her.” The club president’s expression softens, a smile growing on her face. “We haven’t, um, gotten there yet, but I mean it. I wanna make it perfect for her. She’s given so much to me in the short time we’ve been together and in the time we were friends. And she just…she means everything to me.”

She smiles. “I think you guys are perfect for each other.”

Despite yourself, you smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I think so, too.”

After your solo questioning wraps up, you meet Paige at your table and you offer her a bashful grin, similar to the one she’d offered you when she returned. You don’t have the chance to say anything else to her as the final round of eliminations are being announced. You and Paige are spared, which doesn’t surprise you, and the two eliminated couples take their loss with dignity as they exit. Paige links her hand with yours – final three. In third place, Team Parker. In second…Team Hayes, which means that first place can only be –

“Team Bueckers.”

You and Paige relax immediately, high fiving each other in celebration. What you’re not fully expecting is the tight hug that Paige pulls you into, whispering a fond good job into your ear, although you can’t help the way you soften, sinking into her embrace. She leads you to the center of the room to collect your goodie basket. The various club members send you off with their congratulations, too, and you pretend to not notice the slick wink that Madelyn shoots you as you and Paige walk out.

The night air is cool, making you shiver slightly, and Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s sliding off her blazer and settling it over your shoulders. You smile gently at her. “You won’t be cold?” you murmur.

“Nah,” she promises, nudging you. “I can handle it. You, though? I’on know.”

“That’s no way to treat someone who just won you these spa coupons,” you say, reaching into the gift basket to wave said coupons in the air. “C’mon, I clutched up, you can’t lie. And to think you wouldn’t have even had a partner for this if you didn’t rope me into it. I think we played our parts pretty well.”

Paige laughs gently, a tinkling sound that carries over the drag of the wind. “You still don’t get it, do you?” she asks, but there’s no true offense behind her words.

You stare at her in confusion. “Get what?” you respond.

“Do you remember that question Madelyn asked you earlier?” Paige says, her steps slowing, tilting her head down to look at you. The street lights reflect off of her face so beautifully, the blue of her eyes illuminated by the soft light. You can’t help the way your heart constricts at the sight. “‘Who confessed to who?’” You hum, urging her to go on. “You remember what I said? That you were oblivious and I dropped a lot of hints you didn’t pick up on?”

The gears in your brain spin for a few revolutions before everything clicks into place. “Oh my God,” you breathe out. “Are you–”

“Confessing?” she says, her lips quirking into a smile. “Yeah.”

“You dropped hints before?”

“So many,” she confirms.

“Oh my God,” you say again. You stop in your tracks, prompting her to do the same. The expression on her face is endlessly amused. “You planned a huge romantic thing – this?”

She shrugs. “The contest was the club’s shit, but yeah. I planned on asking you to come with me to this. I didn’t actually care about the prize, but the coupons are pretty sweet, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring her rambling. “You planned a huge romantic thing, but I still didn’t get it at the end, so you told me straight up,” you finish, partly in disbelief. “You think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” you accuse, which just makes her break out into laughter. “You literally sat next to me and told me exactly how you were going to ask me out and I didn’t know? And not only did you do that, but you were right about it?”

“I know you,” Paige says a little smugly. “And I told you that I could be romantical.”

“You are such a pain in my ass,” you whisper, but her arm is slinking around your waist, pulling you into her body as she grins insufferably, and you let yourself be pulled, your hands resting on her chest. “You are literally so annoying.”

Her nose brushes yours as she inches a little closer. “You know what they asked me in the final round?” she says, her voice loud enough for only you to hear. You nod. “They said, ‘What’s something you haven’t told your partner, but you’d like to?’”

“Funny,” you say. “They asked me the same thing.”

She smiles at you. “I told them I’d tell you that I love you,” she confesses.

Your cheeks burn as you register her words. “Funny,” you say again. “I told them the same thing.”

Her expression shifts, something like relief flashing in her eyes, something tender in her gaze. “Did you?”

“Well, I told them that’s what I would tell my girlfriend,” you trail off intentionally. “Seeing as I don’t currently have one of those…”

“Don’t play,” Paige murmurs, squeezing your hip gently, drawing a laugh from you. “Be mine?”

“You gonna share those coupons?”

Her eyes are bright when she responds. “I’on even care about them. Just want you.”

“You’ve got me.”

That promise is all she needs. She smiles at you, happiness in her features, and she doesn’t waste any time before she’s leaning in fully, her lips finding yours. You’re eagerly responding, melting into her as her arm tightens around your waist. You loop yours around her neck, standing on the tips of the toes for better leverage. Before you know it, her grin grows too wide and the two of you are laughing against each other’s lips, the sound of your love and giddiness the perfect way to end a perfect night. If you had Paige Bueckers and her annoyingly charming antics to look forward to, then one thing is for certain – you couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for Valentine’s Day next year.