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izzih22 · 3 days ago

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heyy, first of all thank you for all the fics you’ve been releasing you’ve been doing alot for our entertainment 💕I would like to request a short for you to give you a break lol.

So Azzi’s at a bar with her friends, Paige isn’t there, and the topic of relationships come up and one of Azzi’s friends is talking about how her feet were hurting so her boyfriend helped her walk to the car and azzi’s like “you walk?” (paige literally carries her) i hope you get what i’m saying😭😭 the whole one shot is just her being oblivious to bad relationship things or just things that a normal human can do for themselves because paige treats her like an absolute goddess.

You Walk?

Note: thank you so much!! I kinda made it longer so hope you like it!!

It’s one of those rare weekends with no games and no early practices. Just an off-night, a quiet pocket of time in the chaos of their season. So naturally, KK suggests the local lounge down the road that doesn’t card too hard and plays R&B remixes on Saturdays.

They roll in like they always do—sweatpants and messy buns, still talking about drills that went wrong or teammates who didn’t box out. Azzi’s with them, of course, even if she keeps glancing at her phone every few minutes.

“Paige isn’t coming,” Caroline says as they slide into a corner booth, raising a brow.

Azzi looks up, too fast. “I know.”

“She had film or something, right?” KK asks, already digging into the nachos they ordered before even sitting down.

“Yeah,” Azzi nods, checking her phone again. “Film and then treatment on her ankle.”

“Poor girl’s glued together with KT tape and stubbornness,” Ice mutters, stealing a chip.

“She’s fine,” Azzi says. “She just… doesn’t rest unless someone makes her.”

“Guess that someone is you?” Sarah teases.

Azzi shrugs, biting back a smile. “Sometimes.”

The drinks come—sodas, Shirley Temples, one rogue ginger beer Ice claims “tastes mature.” The music is mellow, the lighting soft. It’s one of those rare moments they all feel twenty-something and not like full-time athletes living on granola bars and ankle braces.

“So,” Jana says, kicking things off as she always does, “relationship question.”

KK groans. “Why do you always do this?”

“Because we’re five girls in a booth on a Saturday night and I’m trying to live a rom-com.”

Caroline snorts. “You need better material.”

Jana ignores her. “What’s the most romantic thing someone’s done for you after a game?”

Ice perks up immediately. “Ooh. Okay, not a boyfriend, but the guy I’ve been seeing lately he picked me up from that away game last weekend, right? I had on these heeled boots…bad decision…and after the game, my feet were screaming. And he walked me all the way back to the car, like arm around me, helping me limp.”

“Aww,” Sarah coos.

Caroline nods. “That’s sweet.”

Azzi, sipping her lemonade, tilts her head. “Wait… you walked?”

The table quiets.

Ice looks over. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t get carried?”

KK snorts. “What?”

Azzi blinks slowly, clearly confused. “If my feet hurt, Paige just carries me to the car.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then…

“I’m sorry,” Caroline says, setting down her drink. “She what?”

Azzi shrugs. “Carries me. Like, arms around my neck, bridal style. She opens the car door with her elbow while holding me.”

Ice stares at her. “You mean like… she’s done this more than once?”

Azzi squints, doing mental math. “It’s kind of our thing. I don’t really walk if I don’t have to after games.”

Jana’s mouth is slightly open. “You… you don’t walk?”

“Not if I’m tired.”

Sarah leans in, looking way too invested. “Does she do this in public?”

“Yeah?”

Caroline is actively holding her head in her hands. “You’re not in a relationship. You’re in a royal court.”

“I thought this was normal,” Azzi mutters, eyes narrowing.

“Azzi,” KK says seriously. “She carried your entire duffel bag and you after the Stanford game.”

“I was sore!”

“She was too!”

Azzi frowns. “She’s stronger than me.”

Everyone knows she lying. Paige is strong but Azzi is a machine. But alas they don’t say anything just smirk.

“You could have walked.”

“Could I have?” Azzi asks genuinely, like she’s never considered the possibility.

Sarah is absolutely losing it. “What else does she do for you that you think is normal?”

Azzi shrugs. “I dunno. She ties my shoes sometimes?”

“Sometimes?” Ice echoes, nearly choking on her drink.

“Well, like, when I’m wearing those shoes with the complicated laces and I don’t feel like doing it. She does them for me.”

KK throws her head back. “I’m actually gonna scream.”

“Oh,” Azzi adds thoughtfully. “She always opens my water bottles too.”

Caroline leans across the table. “Azzi. You are a D1 athlete. You have hands.”

“She gets to them before I do!”

“I’ve watched her unwrap your protein bars.”

“Only the ones with the sticky wrappers.”

“She cuts your grapes.”

“They taste better when they’re in halves!”

“Have you ever carried her to the car?” Sarah asks.

Azzi blinks. “She doesn’t like being carried.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No…”

Jana laughs. “You are a princess and you don’t even know it.”

“She microwaves my hoodie before practice when it’s cold,” Azzi offers softly, almost defensively now.

Caroline groans. “Microwaves?!”

“It’s not weird! She wraps it in a towel and puts it in for like, fifteen seconds. So it’s warm.”

KK turns to the group. “I am dating the wrong people.”

Ice clutches her drink. “I’m not even really dating and I feel wronged.”

Azzi’s phone buzzes. She glances at it and smiles instantly.

“What is it?” Caroline asks.

“She just texted me. ‘Did you eat enough?’”

“Tell her no,” Sarah says. “So she’ll pull up with food in twenty minutes and a blanket and probably a slideshow presentation about nutrients.”

Azzi giggles, typing a reply. The girls all watch her, a mix of affectionate disbelief and exasperated envy.

“You know what’s wild,” KK says, voice a little softer now. “She really doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“Does what?” Azzi asks, still texting.

“All of it,” Jana says, smiling. “She’s cool with us, yeah. But Paige? She spoils you. Like, in ways she doesn’t even realize.”

“She worships you,” Caroline says, not unkindly. “You’re like her favorite person.”

Azzi blinks, cheeks pinking. “She’s my favorite person too.”

There’s a little silence after that. One of those good, warm ones.

Ice sighs dramatically. “Y’all are disgusting.”

Kk raises her glass. “To not walking.”

Everyone laughs.

Azzi raises her glass too, her phone lighting up again with a message from Paige.

PAIGE:

If you’re still hungry, I can bring you something when I’m done. Or just come pick you up.

She smiles, melts a little, and types back:

AZZI:

I’m good. But you can still come pick me up if you want. I miss you.

PAIGE:

On my way.

Azzi sets her phone down, heart full. Her team is still roasting her, still in disbelief but underneath it, there’s love. So much of it.

⸻

Azzi’s just stepped out of the bar when she sees her.

Paige is parked right out front, leaning casually against the passenger door in a hoodie and joggers, arms crossed, hair pulled back in a low bun like she didn’t spend the last two hours watching film and icing. Her eyes soften the second she sees Azzi.

Azzi doesn’t even try to play it cool. She lights up instantly.

Paige pushes off the car and meets her halfway.

“Hey,” she says, already reaching to adjust Azzi’s oversized sweatshirt like it’s her job.

Azzi smiles up at her. “Hi.”

“You tired?”

Azzi leans into her. “A little.”

And without missing a beat, she lifts Azzi right off the ground, arms around her back and under her knees, bridal style. Azzi doesn’t even flinch—she just folds into it, wraps her arms around Paige’s neck, and rests her head against her shoulder like they’ve done this a thousand times.

Inside the bar, five noses are pressed up against the window.

“NO. WAY,” KK whisper-yells.

“She didn’t even ask, Paige just knew,” Ice says, jaw dropped.

“She looks so happy,” Sarah mutters, a little too emotionally invested.

“I feel like I just watched a scene from a Netflix original,” Caroline says.

“Literally how does someone look hot while carrying another adult?” Jana asks, offended.

“Did you see how she opened the door without putting Azzi down?” Ice adds. “I didn’t even know you could do that.”

KK’s filming through the window. “If my future wife doesn’t treat me like I’m made of moonlight and satin sheets, I don’t want her.”

“You think she warmed up the car too?” Sarah asks.

“She probably pre-set the seat warmer,” Caroline says.

“Y’all,” Ice says, dropping her voice like it’s a national secret, “I used to think Paige was kind of quiet and chill. But she’s not. She’s just so gone for Azzi that none of us even exist when she’s around.”

The group stares out the window as Paige carefully lowers Azzi into the car, buckles her in, then presses a kiss to her forehead like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like muscle memory.

They’re still watching as the car pulls away.

Caroline turns back to the table.

“I think we just witnessed a mythological event.”

“I feel single,” KK says dramatically.

“You are single,” Jana deadpans.

“I feel extra single,” KK corrects.

Sarah’s already texting their group chat:

Sarah: azzi literally gets carried home like a fairy tale

Sarah: if she ever says “paige isn’t that romantic” again we’re playing the window footage

Caroline opens her soda, toasts the air, and says, “To setting the bar unreasonably high.”

They all clink their glasses together.

And somewhere across town, Azzi leans into Paige’s shoulder in the car and says, “They roasted me so bad.”

Paige just smiles. “Good. Let them be jealous.”

Azzi’s grin turns soft. “I’m really lucky.”

Paige glances over at her. “I’m the lucky one.”

⸻

UConn practice, Sunday morning. Coach hasn’t even walked in yet, and the team is already stretching, half-awake, shoes only half-laced. It’s quiet until Paige walks in.

Azzi’s trailing behind her, as always, but today there’s a very specific look in her eyes. It’s the “I told them everything” look.

Paige doesn’t notice. She jogs in with her usual no-sleep-no-problem swagger, hair tied up, hoodie sleeves shoved to her elbows. She barely sets her water bottle down before…

“Oh hey, Paige,” KK calls, loud and obvious. “How are your arms feeling today?”

Paige blinks. “My arms?”

“Yeah, after carrying an entire grown woman across a parking lot last night.”

Azzi breaks immediately, hiding behind a towel.

Paige turns slowly toward her. “You told them?”

“I said one thing,” Azzi mumbles from behind the towel.

“One thing?” Caroline grins. “Girl, you gave us a thesis.”

“We know about the grapes,” Ice adds. “The microwaved hoodie. The shoelace situation.”

Ash fakes a swoon. “She carries you with the door elbow bump. I literally can’t even open my Gatorade without losing a nail.”

Paige stands there, eyes narrowing like she’s deciding who to block in practice first.

“Y’all are being dramatic,” she mutters.

“No we’re not,” Caroline says. “We’re being observant.”

“She doesn’t walk, Paige!” KK shouts, already laughing.

“Okay, but why should she walk?” Paige shoots back, deadpan. “She’s perfect.”

The gym goes silent.

Caroline turns to Ice. “Did she just…?”

“She just dropped that like it was normal,” Ice whispers.

Paige shrugs, tossing a ball lazily between her hands. “If I can carry her, why wouldn’t I? Y’all just jealous.”

“Damn right we are,” Ice says. “I limp and suffer in silence.”

Jana raises an eyebrow. “Would you carry any of us if our feet hurt?”

Paige doesn’t even blink. “No.”

“That was fast,” KK says.

“She wouldn’t even open my water bottle,” Ice adds.

“You shouldn’t need help,” Paige shrugs.

“But Azzi does?” Caroline teases.

Paige tosses the ball at her lightly. “Azzi gets help. Not the same.”

Azzi finally peeks out from behind her towel, smiling helplessly.

Caroline rolls her eyes. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m not whipped,” Paige says, walking to Azzi like it’s automatic. “I’m just obsessed with her. Totally different.”

Azzi beams. Everyone else groans.

Coach finally walks in, blowing his whistle.

“Save the flirting for after sprints!” He yells.

“Yes, Coach!” they all echo.

But as they start warming up, Azzi’s still grinning, and Paige casually offers her a drink without her even asking. The rest of the team watches it happen like they’re seeing the northern lights.

“Grapes next,” Ice mutters.

“Pretty sure she’s already got them in the locker room,” Caroline says.

And they do. In a little Tupperware, halved.

Because Paige Bueckers may not talk about her feelings much. But everyone on the team knows one thing now: she doesn’t just love Azzi.

She lives to make her life easier.

And apparently, that includes never letting her feet touch the ground.

#pazzi fics #paige x azzi #pazzi #paige and azzi #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #azzi fudd

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chimerafeathers · 3 days ago

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#i don’t go here but i think mirabelle had every right to react the way she did #how was she supposed to know siffrin cared at all if they were acting like he didn’t? #secret goodness only gets you so far if you aren’t willing to be honest about it with the people you love (via @kaiju-lightning)

i don't know to what degree you "don't go here" (what context or information you have or don't have outside of what's in this post) but, if you didn't know, Siffrin isn't like. some asshole with a secret ultra-hidden deep-down heart of gold that no one can see. they're just kind of quiet a lot of the time, and when they do speak up, it's usually either lightly jokey or very sweetly supportive. Mirabelle doubting his motives is VERY much fueled by her anxiety; none of the others (including Bonnie, a pre-teen) sincerely think that Siffrin doesn't care about them, even after Siffrin spends a day burning all their bridges.

more specific spoilers ahead!

there's a flashback in the very beginning of the game where Siffrin remembers Mirabelle checking in with them, trying to make sure he's really willing to be on a dangerous quest with her, and he tells her point-blank that traveling with them all is the happiest he's ever been. they're being completely honest, but Mirabelle doesn't really know that! because like! how could that possibly be true?? they're on a dangerous quest that they may not survive, for a country that he has no ties to, AND THEY JUST LOST AN EYE??? it doesn't make sense that nothing in his life made him happier than they are right now! maybe they're teasing her, or just trying to make her feel better, or something that would make more sense than that.

Siffrin's also in the habit of reminding Mirabelle not to bite her nails too much when she's feeling anxious. they start visibly panicking whenever they think someone is upset (especially if he thinks it's his fault or it's aimed at him). they lost their eye protecting Bonnie and only really cared that Bonnie was safe afterwards. he spends a lot of time trying to be quietly reassuring or keeping people happy with his jokes. Isabeau at one point calls them nice, and says he "always listens to what everyone has to say, and always tries to give advice even though they're not always very good at it"—that's all specifically about pre-time-loop behavior!

it's really not a secret AT ALL that Siffrin cares about the party in general. the "secret" part is how MUCH and how DEEPLY they care. it's the difference between "yeah, we had a great time together! i really enjoyed hanging out with you. we should keep in touch and hang out again sometime" (where everyone thinks everyone else is at, emotionally) and "i care about all of you more than anyone else i've ever known and the thought of you leaving is painful, but i can't bear to ask you to stay with me when you all have lives and homes and jobs and families to get back to and i don't want to keep you from your goals. i'm fine with just 'keeping in touch.' it's FINE"

it's also worth noting that the "secret" part is also kiiiiinda a secret even to Siffrin himself? as in, they're trying so hard to accept the fact that everyone will leave, that it's completely normal and natural for them to go back to their own lives, that they're shoving all their feelings about that into a tiny box and burying it in the back of their mind.

all of this to say, yes, Mirabelle absolutely has a right to be upset when Siffrin hurts her! but the reason she reacts so strongly is that she struggles much more than the others to consistently read Siffrin's behavior as sincerely friendly, because of her own anxiety and hangups. it's NOT because Siffrin is outwardly cold, callous, rude, flippant, or anything like that at a baseline.

hope that clears things up!

i really love how intensely Mirabelle reacts to act 5 Siffrin botched friendquest.

Isabeau is mostly operating out of concern and, eventually, hurt. he already knows something’s up before Siffrin gets to him. he knows something truly awful must be wrong for Siffrin to be lashing out like they are, and as soon as he can’t handle the situation anymore, he leaves and asks (with strained cheer) for time apart to cool off.

most of Bonnie’s anger comes from being upset and afraid that Siffrin would willingly put themself in danger for no reason, when that’s exactly why they’ve been so unsettled since the eye incident. they hate that Siffrin values their own life so little, they hate that they’re the cause of any pain or loss for him, and here he is, putting himself in that situation AGAIN. on purpose. it’s loud and explosive, but it’s familiar, too, being “hated” by Bonnie for this reason.

Odile pushes, and keeps pushing, until her concern overwhelms Siffrin and they strike where they know she’s most vulnerable. she gets physical, just for a moment, grabbing his collar before controlling herself and letting go. her fury shuts down into cold detachment, and she walks away.

but Mirabelle—dear, sweet, gentle, loving Mirabelle, “the most wonderful being on earth,” with her secret “ruthless side” that largely involves lightly badmouthing people behind their backs and then apologizing—slaps them. immediately.

and then COMPLETELY RENOUNCES THEIR FRIENDSHIP.

not just “we’re not friends anymore,” but “we were never friends in the first place.”

that’s!!! pretty extreme!!!!

of course, she ALSO starts by asking what’s wrong. something must have happened for him to act like this. but as soon as Siffrin brushes her off, she jumps past that line of questioning and dives headfirst into re-evaluating everything she thought she knew about them as a a person.

if he could say something like that to her and not see anything wrong with it, then she was wrong to treat him as a friend, wrong to read camaraderie into his teasing, wrong to think they must care about them all under their aloof demeanor.

that’s how Mirabelle phrases it—“I was wrong about you”—but i think that there’s a hidden layer of I was right about you, too.

she talks about the way they tease her like she had to convince herself that he was doing it in a friendly way. she says they talk like they “know better than her” like that’s a thought she’s had for a LONG time.

“Always soooo mysterious, Siffrin, always talking as if you're better than me! As if you know me!!! But you don't, Siffrin!!! You're just as lost and useless as I am!!! So stop!!! Talking!!! As if you know me!!!!!!”

none of this comes across as a new, sudden way to view Siffrin for her. it doesn’t shock or confuse her. it makes her angry, defensive, almost like she was waiting for something like this to happen at some point. the feeling of resentment, frustration, jealousy, being patronized and condescended to—this is something she’s been actively pushing down and rejecting this entire time, but they’ve given her ample reason for it all to boil to the surface. violently.

Mirabelle’s kindness is not inherent or easy. it’s a choice she’s making. she treats Siffrin warmly because she gives him the benefit of the doubt—refusing to act based on anxiety-fueled, cynical speculation, and reassuring herself that his actions are driven by care and friendship even if she can’t quite see it.

“I was wrong about you” doesn’t mean she always and without question believed them to be a fundamentally kind, caring person from the beginning—it’s that her first, colder instincts were right, and she was wrong to convince herself otherwise.

never mind that she asked what was wrong at first. she barely gives them time to speak in their own defense, to explain what they really meant by what they said. all of her suppressed doubts and frustrations are getting aired out now, now that all the trust she’d so deliberately placed in him has been betrayed. her pain feels bigger than this singular moment, so when she hurts him back, she makes sure it extends back through the entirety of their relationship for him, too.

“You're awful. You're not my friend, not my ally, not anything. You never were.”

like the others, she goes back to the clocktower and tells Siffrin not to come back until later. but there’s a finality to the way she ends this confrontation that isn’t quite there with the others. Isabeau and Odile reach their breaking point and remove themselves from the situation, asking for space to cool off but still somewhat leaving the door open for Siffrin to tell them what’s really going on at some point. Mirabelle is the only one who tries to fully cut ties—after everything else she says, her “I don’t want to see you until tonight” reads to me somewhat as “I don’t want to see you anymore unless I have to.”

I can’t wait to never see you again.

even back at the clocktower, Mirabelle doesn’t really defend Siffrin’s place in the party when Odile suggests leaving them behind out of concern for their trustworthiness on the most important day of the journey. Isabeau and Bonnie protest out of sentimentality and faith in Siffrin’s abilities and connection to them, and Mirabelle agrees, but…

“I agree, but... B-But would he even agree to come with us, still? Maybe they won't even come back tonight...”

she doesn’t say much outside of that. maybe the stutter and hesitation here are signs of regret about how things happened, but she lacks Isabeau and Bonnie’s confidence that Siffrin even wants to come back to them in the first place. she doesn’t trust that their bond was real anymore. maybe it never was in the first place, or maybe she broke whatever was there herself.

and she’s still mad when they finally catch up to Siffrin at the King! and she makes sure Siffrin knows that—after saving them, assuring him that he no longer needs to fight, that they’re all there for him. she still cares, of course she still cares—she’s still hurt, too, but they can figure that part out once there’s less world-ending stuff going on.

she’s the first to say that they all reserve the right to still be angry at Siffrin later—and that they’ve already forgiven him.

she’s also the first to say we want to stay with you, too. it’s not just you.

she was wrong! she thought they didn’t care but they care so much, it’s overwhelming, it’s world-ending.

i think she’s gonna be wallowing in guilt post-canon the moment she remembers what she said and did TO SIFFRIN and not just what Siffrin said to her. especially now that she knows Siffrin’s exact hangups, and especially especially if she figures out what Siffrin was trying to say.

they put themself through hell out of loneliness and fear that none of the others cared about him the way he cared about them, he was going insane from repetition and exhaustion and hunger and trying to keep them all safe and together, and all they did in the midst of all that was say something kind of mean to her one time (that turned out to not even be MEANT to be mean it was supposed to be HELPFUL they just SAID IT ALL WRONG) and she SLAPPED THEM? and told him that they WEREN’T FRIENDS AT ALL??? how could she!!! she should have known better!! what they said hurt a lot but still!!!

so when they eventually manage to try to talk about it, they end up almost in, like, a guilt competition.

Mirabelle apologizing for how she reacted, that she shouldn’t have yelled or hit him, that she doesn’t want to be the kind of person who acts that way out of anger and she’s sorry that she made Siffrin expect that reaction from her, she should have known better and believed in him more and they only messed up like that because they were losing their mind in a time loop but what’s HER excuse—

and Siffrin going nononono stop I deserved it—(HUH DON’T SAY THAT NO YOU DIDN’T)—and that he should never have said such awful things to her, ever, and she was under so much pressure already with the weight of the country and everyone’s lives and futures and her religion and their whole party counting on her to do this impossible task because she’s the only one who can, all this unbearable expectation and hope crushing her, and they KNEW that but they thought they could skip to the ending as though her feelings didn’t matter at all, like helping her wasn’t as important as saving a little time—

until they’re just. in tears together, apologizing for all the horrible things they did in between complimenting each other’s strength and kindness and resilience and how much they admire each other and saying that no, everything you did was completely understandable, actually, the only one who sucks here is me. which neither of them will accept coming from the other!!

they’re so similar, in ways they couldn’t really understand, before.

warm, affectionate, perfect Mirabelle, the resolute hero, a beacon of compassion and hope for all those around her, who wears her heart on her sleeve, her fear making her courage shine all the brighter—nothing like the insignificant, forgettable Siffrin, too terrified to be known, too fragile to touch, too selfish and disgusting to bear letting go.

cool, mysterious, unflappable Siffrin, the worldly traveler, as charming and silly as they are confident and skilled, who brushed off losing an eye like it was nothing, accepting the risks of this journey with barely more than a shrug—nothing like the anxious, stagnant, underserving Mirabelle, a fraud and a nobody crumbling under the weight of a mission too important to be entrusted to someone like her, doubting herself, doubting her friends, doubting her mentor, doubting her faith, too weak and brittle to bend and change the way the world needs her to without breaking.

not worth bothering others with their problems. they should be able to handle this alone. stay positive, stay calm. breathe in, and out.

they’ll struggle with it, still—the hiding, the minimizing—but now, they understand each other a little better. they can hold each other accountable for what they leave unsaid.

it’ll get easier, eventually. they have plenty of time.

#sorry i don't mean to put you on blast or anything. but siffrin is genuinely very sweet!#they're just also quiet and easygoing in a way that Mirabelle reads as overly casual or insincere sometimes #isat #isat spoilers #mypost #replies #kaiju-lightning

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willyoubemycherryy · 2 days ago

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Counting Licks (Bo Chow x Reader)

Summary: He does bite- never too hard though…

Contains: smut, giving a bitch sum head or sum, minimal plot, no I genuinely mean it, oral (f. receiving), kissing, dirty talk, refers to the 🐱 as ‘her’, he’s feral for the cookie, pussydrunk Bo, biting, petnames, “I ain’t never date no man who ain’t suck me off the bone”, BITINGGGG, public, but u guys are alone, I saw sinners again last night and this is the product so good luck

A/N- if you see a mind running around that looks lost, it’s mine. Leave it be.

+ with @bochowswife and @taylormarieee in mind🥰🎀

*Takes place in the ‘fix it’ universe

.♡

The club had been open for weeks and had been a bigger success than originally planned.

It was kind of an unspoken rule that anyone in attendance didn’t mention the incident from that night, it being “bad mojo” and all that and people were only too happy to put it behind them.

Another thing that happened by the end of the first week was the switch from plantation credits to actual money or change. Quarters, dimes, nickels, were all welcome as long as it could spend. They changed it in a way that business wasn’t affected but worked for the locals. Now, prices were different depending on what they was drinking and that did wonders for money flow. So much in fact, that they needed help managing it all.

That’s where you and Bo come in.

Managing his own store and such, Bo was good with numbers- quick too- a trusted friend of the twins, and he’d been there to help them set up since day 1. So when the twins asked him to do the till counts during near end of the first half of the night, it was an easy yes. Surprisingly enough, Smoke and Stack were on the same page with not minding Bo bringing you into the office with him while he worked; claiming you kept him focused and that was that but….

Bo was supposed to be counting the tills and you were supposed to keep him focused.

��Mmmm, she’s so sweet baby”,

Bo purrs in that heady southern drawl before he laps another firm drag up your slit. “Nice n’ wet f’me..”.

A debauched moan bubbles deep from your chest as Bo slurps your clit into his mouth with a drunken hum. The vibrations make your head spin, lower stomach tensing up as you try to ground yourself before you lose your mind but Bo doesn’t let up- can’t bring himself to. Not when you coat his mouth with your taste looking like the answer to every prayer he’s ever prayed with full lips and wide eyes that constantly looked at him like you didn’t just want him but needed him.

He groans, pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you, smacking his lips hungrily as his hands help themselves to your curves and god- you melt. Much like ice would under the heat of the devil’s tongue only faster this time because pleasure is always better when business is meant to be the goal. Tingling nips to your thighs trail back up slowly to your wetness and you suck in a deep breath through your teeth, heavy arousal licking flames across your skin making you sweat. The music outside was loud enough to drown out your activities which was great because Bo was aiming to suck you off the bone.

Gripping the fat of your hip, he pulls you closer against his open mouth- tongue wet, hot, and insistent as he hungrily licks inside you. The pleasure is crushing and your hands find his hair, petting and messing at it weakly while you gasp and whine in bliss. Bo takes your throbbing bud in his mouth again, lapping stroke after stroke against the underside of your clit before rolling it between his teeth and you jolt as he bites down with just enough pressure for the pain to warm before he soothes it with a heavy lave of his tongue and you cry out so hard it feels like your chest is caving in.

“B-Bo! We-, the t-ti- fuuuck!” You can’t even string a sentence together with the way he’s taking you apart, sucking your clit like a piece of candy before rolling the sensitive swollen nub back between his teeth and you’re shaking. Eyes fluttering back as the most pitiful choked out sobs you’ve ever heard from yourself fall from your lips as you grind up into his handsome face.

It’s as if you’re floating. His hands are so big and rough- strong and everywhere. You might be crying for real now. Bo’s so hard that the blood rush makes his ears ring but he couldn’t be bothered to pay that any mind.

Not when you’re so close.

“Thaaat’s it sweet thing..”

And you’re crying and stuttering in that sweet, pretty, way you did whenever you got real close-your hips bucking up into his greedy maw and he can feel the way your leaking hole twitches under his tongue and he growls. A hand leaves your hips in favor of stuffing three of his fingers knuckle deep inside your spasming cunny as he catches your clit and bites- flattening his tongue to soothe the pain sweetly and he’s so sloppy with it as his fingers lazily stretch you open that you can’t take it anymore. It’s too good- too much.

The slutty arch of your back doesn’t make your orgasm any easier to bear as it tears clean through you, coming so hard you hear sight. Heart beating through your chest as you scream, spraying his thick fingers and sinful mouth with a hot burst of your slick. It gives Bo goosebumps as he moans into your flushed skin, mouth working even harder as he laps up your release. Even sucking you off his fingers before rushedly undoing his pants and jerking his fat throbbing shaft off with that same hand. Burying his head back to finish cleaning you up, the sweet taste and smell is so fucking good- so heady- that he’s coming minutes later into the hand that’s soaked with you, resting his head against your thigh while you catch your breath and wait for your senses to realign so you can convince him to take you home.

Till counting long forgotten.

#sinners #sinners movie #sinners 2025 #bo chow sinners #bo chow x reader #bo chow smut #bo chow #sinners x reader #sinners smut #sinners fanfiction #sinners fic

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 days ago

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How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?

I am having feelings about that episode, so please enjoy 3k words of fic about it. I told myself yesterday I wasn't going to write anything about it because I didn't think I had much to say, and then this hit me like a truck at like midnight. Exceptional timing, brain, no notes.

Title is from You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift. (The other line I considered was "I know my pain is such an imposition," for obvious reasons, but I made a different call. Hopefully this one is pointed enough. 😂)

Tommy thinks about reaching out. Tommy thinks about reaching out a lot, but he doesn’t do it. The footage from the cameras in the tunnel plays on a loop in his mind, but Evan had been red-eyed but composed by the time he and Athena came out of there, and the last thing Tommy was going to do was blurt it out in front of everyone. That he’d seen something no one else had. That he knew, and the knowledge was lodged in his chest like a knife.

Evan kept it together that night, but Tommy can’t imagine that persisted for long. He was subdued at the funeral—and Tommy was focused on doing his own part as respectfully as possible—but there were times when Evan had seemed…lost. Unmoored somehow. It was understandable given where they were, but it had made Tommy wonder, a little bit, who Evan was leaning on to get through this. He had banished the thought as soon as it had surfaced. The 118 was Evan’s family; of course they were seeing what was going on with him, probably more clearly than Tommy could. No doubt they had it under control. They would never let Evan suffer through a loss like this alone.

So Tommy doesn’t call after the funeral.

He doesn’t call, and he doesn’t call, and he doesn’t call, and he falls asleep almost every night to a vivid memory of the way Evan’s legs had just given out under him. He doesn’t call and the impulse to hold Evan—just briefly, just because he couldn’t then—is almost overwhelming. But that’s not what they are anymore. He’s not sure if they're anything, honestly, and he’s not going to ask. Evan has more important things to worry about right now, and Tommy’s not going to barge in demanding anything at all.

And then a building goes down, of course with half the 118 inside, and Tommy’s still on ground ops until Melton forgives him. Evan and Ravi are finally pulled out—dusty and scraped up, but whole—and Tommy sees them making their slow way toward the 118 engine and Gerrard.

Evan brightens a little and waves when he looks up and sees Tommy, and Tommy really hopes he’s got a handle on his expression, because Evan looks awful. His smile is brittle and the hollowness in his eyes is concerning. Tommy almost looks around for the rest of the 118 because what the fuck are they thinking? They wouldn’t let Evan walk around like this, looking like an open wound. Right? They would do something about it.

For the first time, Tommy considers the possibility that he’s made a few too many assumptions about what the 118 would and wouldn’t do.

He jogs over to where Evan and Ravi have stopped. Ravi is chatting with a firefighter from the 133, but Evan is just…standing. His eyes are blank and unfocused, and Tommy is starting to get a little pissed at all the people who are supposed to have Evan’s back because what are they doing?

“Hey,” he says quietly, but Evan startles anyway.

“Oh! Uh, hey Tommy.” He dredges up a smile that goes nowhere near his eyes. “Ground ops, huh?”

“Yeah, Melton’s still pissed, so…”

Evan frowns. “I’m so—Tommy I’m so sorry.”

Tommy frowns back at him. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have asked…I didn’t think,” Evan says, his shoulders slumping, and Tommy doesn’t like that reaction at all.

“Sure you did. You thought ‘The team is in trouble; I wonder if Tommy can help,’ and the answer was yes.”

Evan gives him a wan smile. “But you love flying.”

“I do,” Tommy says slowly, “and I’ll be doing it again in no time. It’s really not a big deal.” He catches Evan’s eye and says firmly, “Hey, I’m a grown-up. I have a mortgage and everything—I can absolutely deal with the consequences of my own actions.”

Evan stares for a second and then starts blinking faster. His hand starts to come up, like he’s going to wipe his eyes, but stops halfway. He looks around at the clusters of firefighters around them.

“I have to—” he says, and gestures vaguely in a direction, and then he’s gone. Tommy frowns after him, wondering where exactly he went wrong.

He thinks maybe he should call this time.

He doesn’t get the chance.

The day after the building collapse, Tommy drives home from his 48—which was a bitch and a half, and not just because a building came down—and finds a very familiar jeep parked in his driveway. He stares at it for a while, failing to make sense of its presence, and then realizes he’s been sitting there for too long. He gets out of his truck and lets himself into his house. He can hear water running in the kitchen, and the house smells like red sauce, similar to the one his mom used to simmer on the stove on Sunday afternoons. It smells like home, and he buries that thought as soon as it surfaces.

Tommy drifts into the kitchen, uncertain what he’ll find there. Evan has his back to the door, rinsing a cutting board in the sink. He looks over his shoulder as Tommy comes in.

“One sec,” he says, and Tommy nods. He takes the time to go set his bag down in his bedroom, kicking off his shoes and changing into sweatpants. When he makes it back to the kitchen, the board is in the drying rack and Evan is standing at the kitchen island, staring down at his hands on the countertop.

“Hi,” Tommy says as he comes back in. He skirts carefully around Evan to grab a beer from the fridge and opens it, and then he goes back to the other side of the island. Whatever Evan is doing here, Tommy has no desire to spook him. His kitchen is Evan’s kitchen. Hell, if he’s being really honest with himself, his everything is Evan’s everything, to a probably concerning degree.

Whatever. Not the point right now.

“Hey,” Evan says, and takes a swig from the bottle of water in front of him. “Your spare key is still in the same spot.”

“Sure is,” Tommy agrees. There’s a brief silence. “What are you making?” Tommy asks.

“Meat sauce,” Evan says. “I was going to make fresh pasta, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be home and I didn’t know if I’d have time.”

Tommy nods. “It smells great,” he says.

Evan glances at him, and then away. “Sorry for invading your kitchen,” he says, but it sounds likes something he thinks he should say rather than something he really means. Tommy can work with that.

“Don’t be,” Tommy says. “You’re always welcome here.” His tone is warm and probably too fond, but there’s not much he can do about it. He’s just really happy Evan is in his kitchen, looking tentative, but maybe a little less hollow than he looked yesterday.

Evan looks up at that, faint surprise and…something else flitting over his face before he smiles. “Yeah?” he asks, like that’s a real question.

“Of course,” Tommy says, and he’s probably giving himself all the way away, but he’s finding it hard to care. He’s tired. Tired of pretending he didn’t see what he saw, tired of pretending he doesn’t desperately want to hug Evan, just to do it. Because he couldn’t then, but maybe he can now.

As soon as he has the thought, the words come out without him ever deciding to say them. “Could I—do you mind if I hug you?”

Evan glances over his shoulder at the sauce, and then the kitchen timer. There’s a lot of time left on it, and Tommy briefly wonders what it means that Evan came over and let himself into his house to make a dish that has to simmer for hours.

Evan turns back to Tommy, his expression a little rueful. He’s twisting his hands together in front of him. “I think, uh. There—there’s a solid chance I’m going to cry all over you if that happens,” he says, eyes downcast.

“I can live with that,” Tommy says immediately.

Evan’s head comes up, eyes huge in his face, and he drinks in Tommy’s expression. Tommy doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he seems to find it. He moves, and then Tommy moves, and they crash into each other halfway around the island. Tommy clings because Jesus Christ, he’s been desperate to ever since he watched Evan sink to the ground, face twisted in anguish. He’s so focused on Evan, solid and real in his arms, that it takes a second for him to realize that Evan is clinging just as tightly, his face buried in Tommy’s shoulder. And—yep, there are the tears.

Tommy feels himself tearing up too, for Bobby, for Evan, for Athena--for all of them. For this awful, overwhelming loss, and the horror of how it happened.

Evan’s breaths start to hitch, and he slumps further into Tommy’s hold. Suddenly he’s choking out deep, gasping sobs, sorrow pulled up from so deep it sound like it it’s physically painful. Tommy just tightens his grip, trying to ignore the part of his brain that is loudly demanding to know why, exactly, Evan seems to need this so badly. He can pull on that thread later. For now, he can do this. He can stand here and be as solid as possible so Evan has something to hang onto while he falls apart.

Later, they end up on the couch. They each have a glass of that stupid passion-orange-guava juice Tommy just keeps adding to his cart at the grocery store, even though Evan hasn’t been around to drink it for a while now. Tommy keeps nudging the plate of cookies toward Evan.

“Eddie’s crashing at my—at his—on the couch at the house,” Evan says, and his tone is all wrong. It’s stilted and a little wobbly, and Evan’s eyes stay fixed on his hands. He sighs. “He’s probably wondering where I am.”

Tommy tries to keep the surprise off his face, but something must get through.

Evan grimaces. “We had a disagreement the other night. I know he’s trying to make up for it, in his own way, but…I. I just wanted to be somewhere else for a while.”

Tommy’s not sure what to say to that. “Well,” he finally gets out, “like I said, you’re always welcome here.”

Evan nods a little, but it’s clear his mind is elsewhere. “Do you—” he starts, and then stops. Tommy cocks an encouraging eyebrow. “Do you think…that is…”

Tommy waits. Evan will decide how he wants to say whatever it is—or decide not to—in his own time.

Evan looks back down at his hands. “We did everything we could to save Bobby,” he says. It’s a statement, kind of. He looks up at Tommy. “Right?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, and his expression is full of such naked vulnerability that Tommy is tempted to look away. He doesn’t, because Evan Buckley deserves all the courage Tommy can muster, even if he’s never had quite enough.

Tommy takes a slow breath in, and lets it out, and reminds himself that giving in to the rage igniting in his chest would be neither helpful nor productive. But what the fuck, Eddie?

“Evan,” he says firmly, “of course you did. You all did.”

Evan looks up at that. “We did,”he corrects, and shoots Tommy a tentative little smile.

“Of course we did,” Tommy agrees, unwilling to quibble about his own minor role when there are much more important things he needs to say. “It was an impossible situation, and everyone did their absolute best.” He starts to reach out for Evan’s hand, and then stops himself, and then Evan reaches out and takes his hand anyway. “Unless there was a secret second vial we didn’t account for—which there wasn’t—there was nothing more anyone could have done.” He pauses and thinks about how he wants to say this. “It was horrible, and tragic, and I know that every single person there would have done absolutely anything to prevent it. Which is how I know no one could have.” He smiles, but it’s small and sad. “If the folks who were there that day couldn’t find a way, then there just wasn’t a way to find,” he finishes.

Evan slumps a little in his seat. “Yeah, that’s—” he stops and swallows. “That’s what I thought too, but then Eddie said—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. His shoulders are curled in, making him look small. Tommy hates it.

“Hey,” Tommy says, squeezing Evan’s hand, and Evan looks up at him. “I know everyone is hurting”—he was going to be diplomatic about this if it killed him—“but that is some Grade A bullshit.” Evan blinks at him. “That’s a fucked up thing to say, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry someone said it to you.” The endearment just slips out, and he doesn’t overthink it. He kept himself from saying What the fuck is wrong with your best friend? and I don’t think grief is a good enough explanation for that level of cruelty, so he gives himself a little mental high-five for his restraint.

Evan blinks a little faster and lets go of Tommy’s hand to wipe at his eyes. He laughs a little. “God, I don’t know why I can’t stop crying.”

Tommy’s got a few hunches, but he doesn’t voice any of them. He shrugs. “Grief is a bitch like that.” He smiles at Evan and gestures at the box of Kleenex on the end table. “I buy tissues at Costco, so, you know—cry as much as you need to.”

Evan laughs again, and relaxes back into the couch. Tears continue to slip down his face, and he periodically wipes them away. They sit there for a while, and the silence is comfortable. Tommy doesn’t take his hand back, and Evan makes no move to let it go.

After a while, Tommy gets up to take a real shower, and Evan gets up to stir the sauce. He’s asleep on the couch when Tommy comes back, and Tommy pulls the afghan down from the back of the couch and carefully pulls it over him. He checks on the sauce and then settles into the armchair with his book. The house is quiet, and it smells amazing, and something in Tommy’s chest is settled for the first time in weeks.

Evan wakes up when the kitchen timer goes off. He blinks a few times, and smiles a little when he sees Tommy in the armchair. Tommy smiles back.

They eat pasta—the meat sauce is fantastic—and then Tommy serves them bowls of ice cream drizzled with caramel sauce. They eat it on the couch while while they watch some nature documentary, and Tommy follows almost none of it because he keeps glancing over at Evan’s profile. He looks soft and relaxed, and that terrible brittleness seems to be gone. He’s still marked by sorrow—he always will be, to some extent—but he doesn’t look empty anymore.

Eventually the ice cream is gone, and the documentary is over. Evan shifts on the couch and glances at the clock in the kitchen.

“I should get back,” he says, with visible reluctance, and Tommy doesn’t hesitate.

“You could stay,” he says.

“You mean for the night?” Evan asks, tentative again the way he was when Tommy first walked in to find him in his kitchen.

“Sure,” Tommy says, “that.” He does not sell it, at all, and a slow smile starts to spread on Evan’s face.

“Yeah?” he asks, and they both know what he’s asking.

“Of course,” Tommy says, soft and sincere. He straightens a little. “I have a guest room,” he says, and Evan’s smile dims. “Not like that,” he says quickly. “Just—you’ve been through a lot, and if you just need a safe place to be for a while…”

Evan’s nodding as he talks, and he shifts closer to Tommy on the couch, meeting Tommy’s eyes. “I do need that,” he says. “I do need a safe place to be right now. And that’s you, Tommy.”

It sits there for a second because Tommy doesn’t know what to say, and Evan’s smile falters. Tommy reaches out for his hand.

“Oh,” he says, and it’s soft and a little awed. “I didn’t”—he clears his throat—“I didn’t know that.”

Evan nods gravely. “I’ll do better this time. At making sure you know.”

Tommy grips his hand tighter. “I—me too. I’ll do better.”

Evan smiles at him, sweet and pleased. “We both will. We’ll do it right this time.”

Tommy can’t argue with that. God knows they have a laundry list of stuff to talk about, to figure out, but…

“We will,” he agrees, and for the first time, he lets himself truly believe it.

#bucktommy #Evan Buckley drives a jeep fight me about it #8x18 spec #is it tho??#tragically this will not be happening in that episode #but we carry on regardless #paper writes #bucktommy fic #fix-it of sorts

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maruflix · 2 days ago

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BOYS BEWARE! #variouscharacters #windbreaker #f!reader

the boys know that you are the town’s most notorious heartbreaker. it would be stupid for them to involve themselves with you. it’s not like they didn’t know that they’re sharing you with their own friends— but damn you look fine. / REQ.

feat. sakura, suo, kaji, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi　　⎯⎯　wc. 4.1k

content: female reader, REVERSE HAREM, reader is a heartbreaker, pre-established relationship, they fall in love first, they fall in love harder, reader is either toxic or playful depending on how you look at it, OKAY READER IS KINDA TOXIC, this is a brainrot and a passion project god bless whoever sent this request, no beta we die like my hopes and dreams

SAKURA HARUKA -> MET A BOY FROM OUTTA TOWN...

Sakura doesn’t know how to express his emotions, so he usually lets them rot and die inside him, preferring to ignore them until they disappear.

He never succeeds to do so whenever you come around. All it takes is one smile. One smile from you and he’s completely defenseless at your mercy.

“I-is this guy bothering you?” Sakura’s attempt to sound gruff seems to fool the dumbass who thinks he’s got a chance with you. He eyes down the weak looking eyesore who kept bothering you since five minutes ago. The pathetic creature couldn’t even look him in the eye.

You flash him a smile. That damn smile. He feels like he’s going to choke.

“He is!” you sigh, tugging the sleeve of his jacket, “Are you here on patrol?”

The weakling knows to make himself scarce, leaving Sakura standing alone with you. He hopes you can’t hear his heart thundering inside his ribcage.

“Yes. I came to give you this.” He clumsily hands you a small box of your favorite cake, almost dropping it in the process and quickly adding, “I-I accidentally bought extra!”

You’re now blinking your gorgeous eyes, surprised, but reach out to take it anyway. “Oh, Haruka-kun! You’re so thoughtful!”

The way his name rolls out your tongue makes him go insane.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” Giggling, you hug his arm, accidentally brushing your head against his shoulder..

Just when he’s about to ask you if you had any plans that weekend, he sees that your line of vision has shifted away from him. He follows it to see Suo standing a couple feet away, smiling.

Oh.

He looks down to see you already smiling up at him like nothing happened. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Haruka-kun! Maybe we can watch a movie together this weekend?”

His heart leaps; so you also want to spend more time with him! He’s just about to say that he’d really, really want that— but you’re already slipping away from his grasp into the direction of his best friend.

You turn your head once more to look at him, “Text me!” before skipping away.

It’s okay, Sakura convinces himself, I’ll definitely text you first.

The warmth of you still lingers on his arm.

SUO HAYATO -> I HELD THE KNIFE BUT YOU HAD THE GUN

Why does Suo still waste his time with you?

He wonders the same thing when he stares at you, eating in front of him.

You eat without a care in the world. Then again, you never seem to care about anything. He just wishes that you’d care about him more. What did you think he was going to feel when he sees you in the arms of Sakura freaking Haruka in the middle of the day? But then again, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything, so it’s not like he had a say—

“Hayato-kun, aren’t you gonna eat?”

Suo blinks, looking down at his half-eaten salad. He’s supposed to be on a diet, but he’d gladly eat a five course meal if it meant being able to spend time with you. “Sorry!” he smiles, “I was too busy staring at you, it seems!” Other people would’ve gotten flustered with his teasing. Suo knows he’s handsome and talks well.

“Oh?” you tilt your head, “do I look pretty today? You’ve been staring a lot~”

Suo’s gaze snaps back to you, his heart skipping a beat. He instantly regrets it when he sees you smiling at him teasingly, a lock of hair falling in front of your face perfectly.

“Very.” he breathes out, brushing your hair away from your face. Hoping that it’d be enough to finally fluster you. Hoping that he can finally win against you for once.

He didn’t expect you to blush. The red tinting your cheeks makes you glow. “Hayato-kun, a surprise attack like that is not fair..”

Suo feels like he’s finally reclaiming himself. Redeeming himself from the devil that is you. Feeling brave, he moves his hand to rest on top of yours, not missing the way your eyes widen ever so slightly. Maybe, maybe....

“What..?”

“It’s my birthday this week.” He starts, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “do you have any plans?”

In truth, he knows that you already plan on spending the weekend with Kaji Ren (how can he not know, when Kaji blabs to everyone about it?) but he wonders if you’ll choose to be with him instead. He tried not to be desperate but he already knew there’s no fooling you, not when the corners of your lips lift ever so slightly—

“Oh, really?!”

He can see that the gears in your brain are turning, your pretty eyes flitting across the room to find an excuse. Still, the enthusiasm in your voice left him hoping.

“I forgot! You know how bad I am with my own schedule..”

Suo exhales, trying not to look disappointed.

“But I’ll definitely cancel them to give you a surprise party!” You pull his hands to hold them tight, a serious look on your face, “Wait. It’s not a surprise if I tell you beforehand, is it?”

The twinkle in your eyes makes Suo wonder if you’ve expected this test. He may have won this fight, but he’s destined to lose the war. There’s just no winning against you.

Even so, he has won this fight... and he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else.

KAJI REN -> YOU CHEW MY HEART LIKE BUBBLEGUM !

Kaji tries to not go overboard, but he did anyway.

He’s tailored the hangout to your exact liking, booking everything two weeks in advance, making you squeal in joy when he tells you that he secured a spot in that hip new café that you keep eyeing during walks.

So when you fail to show up, Kaji knew that it was because of another man. He may be oblivious sometimes but he’s not stupid. There’s no way you cancelled on him last minute to feed your grandma’s cat. Your grandma died two months ago for God’s sake.

That’s why he’s steeled his heart to finally break away from your grasp. He can’t keep hurting himself and hoping you’d finally see him as your only love. He’s not stupid.

“I’m sorry, Ren-kun... you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

He refuses to look at you, knowing that he’d fold the instant he sees those gorgeous eyes.

“I messed up.. I have no excuse..”

“Why?” he asks, demands for you to say it with your own mouth. Say that you chose another man over him.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth.” You bent down to look at him, unrelenting even when he stares at you coldly, “It was Hayato-kun’s birthday yesterday. I threw him a surprise party with Haruka-kun and Nirei-kun.”

There’s a rare sincerity in your words, a fragile honesty that makes him both relieved and forlorn. “Thank you for telling the truth.” He didn’t want you to see him cry, so he gets up and starts to walk away.

“Wait! Ren-kun!” You call after him, making him walk faster. His eyes are already starting to burn. He had wanted you to tell him the truth, so why does it still hurt this much?

“Oof!”

The sudden thud makes him stop dead in his tracks. The unmistakable sound of a crash. He spins around, seeing you bent over on the ground, holding your knee. His heart drops, already forgetting the reason he walked away in the first place.

“Why are you so clumsy?!” He chides, squatting down next to you. The red in your knee is starting to drip down to your ankle. Guilt bubbles up in his throat, blocking his airway. You’re bleeding because of him.

“Sorry, I can’t even walk right..” you’re still smiling even when tears are streaming down your face. Even then, you look radiant.

“Climb up.” He offers his back, almost losing his mind from the guilt and worry.

“I can’t receive any more of your kindness,” your voice is small behind him, “I’m a horrible friend..”

Kaji wants to yell at you to prioritize yourself more, to tell you that he’ll probably sulk for a day before returning to you with a wagging tail— but all his words get caught in his throat when he sees you crying.

What can he do, except pull you into his embrace?

You melt almost instantly, sobbing apologies after apologies.

What can he do, except tell you that it doesn’t matter and he’s the one at fault?

Fuck it. He is stupid, he is dumb— and he will continue to be, if it means being able to hold you in his arms.

UMEMIYA HAJIME -> SHE MAKES THEM FALL DOWN TO THEIR KNEES AND CRY

Umemiya thinks that he has an advantage over the other guys that flock to you.

When you had a bad day and snap at him, he pats your head and listens to your problems. When he saw you laughing with Endo and Takiishi, he turns a blind eye. When you tell him you suddenly felt like hanging out with Togame, there’s a prick in his heart, but even so, he understands.

He’s very mature and mentally stable. No amount of cancelling plans and harsh words and flirting with other boys can faze him. He thought that those qualities would make you love him more— but he is so sorely mistaken.

“Is something on your mind?” Umemiya bends down slightly but you look away, your lips pursed into a tight line. He rubs your hair, knowing how much you love headpats, but all he got is an annoyed huff.

He’s terrified now.

“What’s wrong?” He can no longer hide the panic in his voice.

Finally, you look at him.

“You don’t love me.”

Your accusation makes him want to die. How can you say that he doesn’t love you when he has fought all his jealousy and killed all his pride?

Umemiya leads you to a nearby bench and kneels down to your height, trying to use the cold ground as a way to cool his beating heart, “Why do you say that?”

You’re twirling a lock of hair now, something you always do when you’re annoyed. “Do you even want to be with me? It’s like you’re just hanging out with me to pass time. Do you even care?”

Your words seem so straightforward, yet Umemiya still doesn’t understand. Whatever did he do that can possibly translate to such a baseless statement?

“I didn’t know that you’re not on good terms with Endo and Takiishi. I look like a bad friend. You don’t even care who I’m hanging out with.”

But Umemiya does care. He cares so much about who you’re hanging out with that he secretly tells the guys to go on patrols whenever you come to visit him, knowing that you’ll definitely get distracted otherwise. He cares so much that he tells Takiishi Chika to stay the hell away from you, causing him to get into a full blown fight. He cares.

“I do.” He frowns, “If I tell you I’m a jealous person, what will you do?”

He merely wanted to punish you a bit for doubting his affections. Someone as kind as you would definitely get flustered when he says something so out of character.

But when he glances at you, you look at him straight in the eyes.

“I will be happy,” The light from the lamppost casts a warm glow over your face, “because finally, you’re being honest with me.”

Umemiya doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Your words are so kind, so you, but it’s like alarm bells are going off inside his head.

“I like it when Hajime-kun is jealous. In fact, I like all of Hajime-kun’s qualities.” Your hand is now tangled in his hair, caressing them softly.

It’s scary how your touch silences all his doubts and makes him putty in your hands. He breathes out a sigh of relief and leans into your touch, knowing that he found favor in your eyes again. “Okay. Okay. I am jealous. Don’t hate me because of that..”

He looks up to see you smiling and a chill runs down his spine.

If you want him to beg, he will beg. If you want him to cry, he will cry. He might try not to show it, but heaven knows he will move hell to be with you.

TOGAME JO -> MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’VE BECOME INSANE.

Being a Shishitoren second-in-command makes Togame unable to spend as much time with you as he’d like.

You live in Makochi, so naturally you’re friends with the Furin boys. Normally, he’d feel relieved that you have other people to protect you from rival gangs when he’s not around, but he only now realizes how close you actually are with Bofurin.

It was supposed to be a surprise. He didn’t tell you that he’s visiting, hoping to catch you off guard when he suddenly drops by. Instead, it was you who caught him off guard.

Togame watches mutely as Umemiya pats your head, hearing the sound of his own heart breaking. The two of you doesn’t seem to realize that he’s standing right there. Like a fool.

“Oh? Togame-kun, you’re here!”

How? How can you sound so.. unbothered? He doesn’t even know what kind of expression is on his face right now.

Umemiya is looking at him without an ounce of guilt. Wait, has he been the fool all along? Has he always been second string? Togame’s head is full of thoughts, none of them good. Oh God, what should he do?

“Togame-kun? Are you okay?”

Your voice is inquisitive, innocent. He is brought back to reality when you grip his shoulder. He looks at you, standing on your tippy toes, your eyes wide and searching.

“You... him..”

“Hm?” As if reminded, you look at Umemiya. “Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming, so I had Hajime-kun walk me home! Uh, but since you’re here...”

Umemiya smiles. Tight. Togame knows that he will probably get a beating if you’re not there. But you are. And Umemiya Hajime relents.

“Right! We can walk home tomorrow. It’s not like everyday Togame visits!” Umemiya’s voice is cheery but the icy undertones is clear.

Don’t you dare make this an everyday occurence.

When Umemiya disappears, Togame lets you pull him with you, still at a loss for words.

“Sooo, what brought you here?” You seem so happy to see him... as if he didn’t just catch you with another man. “Oh, I just realized you have your hair tied! You look good! I like you better this way, I think!”

“Are you... going out with Umemiya Hajime?” Like a fool, that is the only thing can he can say.

You blink at him in surprise, like he just asked you if elephants could fly. Was he not supposed to ask? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything... but you told him you love him.

“I...”

Your laugh interrupts his train of thought. “Of course not, silly!” It seems like his question is so funny that you’re actually doubling over and smacking his arm. “Oh, Togame-kun. Are you jealous?”

Are you seriously asking him that right now?

He’s not jealous. He’s furious.

“Maybe?”

“Aww, you’re so cute! And kinda naive, but like in a really cute way!” You’re resting your head on his arm now, hugging it as the two of you continue walking, “Me and Hajime-kun, we’re just friends! You can ask him if you want!”

Togame doesn’t know what to say. He feels stupid. Maybe he’s just not used to having female friends who’s also friends with other guys. “Why do you call him by his first name?”

You stop walking, causing him to pause too. “Oh my God!” Feeling you pull his arm, Togame turns to look at you. “Togame-kun, you’re totally jealous! That’s so cute! Is it because I don’t call you by your first name?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Why would you say you love him and call another guy by his first name? But now that Togame hears himself, he wonders if he’s just being crazy. He’s ashamed of himself now.

“Don’t sulk like that, Jo-kun. I was too shy to call you so intimately, you know!”

Togame feels like he’s being pacified... but he doesn’t hate it. He pulls you closer to him, engulfing you in a side hug, letting you nuzzle up to him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I don’t really care.”

He feels crazy. Seeing you with another man brought him to the edge of insanity. Luckily, Togame is not someone who backs down so easily. He watches you laughing and wonders when you’ll finally realize his feelings.

Maybe if he deals with Umemiya Hajime, you’ll finally be his and his alone?

ENDO YAMATO -> DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU

From the start, Endo can see that you and him are similar.

The two of you hide behind smiles, faking feelings until you lose track of what you actually feel. Trying to put a brave front and succeeding so much that everyone thinks you’re a self-obsessed, entitled brat with the ego of Mount Fuji.

Maybe he’s so full of himself that he sees so much of himself in you and he falls in love.

Despairingly.

Because you immediately call him out on his feelings, warning him that you don’t feel the same way.

Perhaps he truly is so sure of himself because he tells you that he will wait for you, however long it takes. As if waiting for you can make you love him.

“You’re hurt again!” Is the first thing you say when Endo walks to you today. Your eyebrows are immediately scrunched, eyes glowing in worry.

When he’s hurt, he feels like he’s the only one in your eyes.

You carefully examine the gash on his arm, delicately tracing the ends of the wound. Endo winces a bit. “Does that hurt? I’ll get a first aid kit.”

Endo watches in awe as your fingers move quickly, dressing his wound with the finesse of a nurse. You don’t catch him staring, too busy on your handiwork. On him.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He says, hoping you’ll say otherwise.

“Mhm. But I did.”

“So why did you?” Endo feels like an attention-seeking child.

You close the first aid kit and look at him, sighing. “Because I care about you.”

His eyes must’ve glimmered with hope, because you quickly added, “You get hurt a lot, so I worry about you.”

“It’s because.. my head is not at the right place today.” Oh, he’s so desperate to get you to pay attention to him.

Who cares if he purposefully angers Chika? Maybe one of these days you’ll catch the guy beating him to a pulp with your own eyes and you’ll stop spending so much time with that devil. Who cares if he let Chika throw that punch? The more cuts he has, the better. That means you’ll spend more time dressing him up.

“What’s wrong?”

Endo shakes his head. “You won’t understand.”

He has long learned that you never back down from a challenge.

“Really? Try me.”

See? Endo smiles, “What do you do when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?”

There’s an indecipherable emotion in your eyes.

“What do you do...” Endo muses, “when you’ve tried to forget about this person, but you can’t?” He lets you hold his hand, inching closer to lean on you for comfort, “I think I love her with every fibre of my being.”

“Maybe someday she’ll return your feelings too.”

Endo closes his eyes and smiles. You spew out such beautiful lies, he fears he’ll start to believe them soon. “I hope so.”

“Yamato-kun. If someday...” your voice wavers, “if someday I were to return your feelings, would you still accept me?”

You know just how to play with his heart. Even so, he will take any chance that he gets. He grips your shoulders, staring into your eyes unblinkingly. “Yes. I told you I’ll wait.”

“Really?”

“How do you want me to prove it to you?”

You gaze at him. “Kiss me.”

Endo wants to cry. What is this game you’re playing now? Do you want to make sure he will never move on from you? To make sure he is so in love with you that he will do anything for you without hesitation? How much crueler can you be?

And how stupid is he?

He moves slowly, making sure that you’re not going to take back what you said. All you do is look at him with expectant eyes, not moving from your position, daring him to actually do it.

So Endo kisses you. And whatever doubts he has about his relationship with you disappears into thin air. All his rationale goes flying out the window. The electricity he feels when his lips move against yours can light a whole city.

You’re the first one to pull away, leaving him gazing at you helplessly.

“I’ll do it however many times you want.”

You merely smile in reply.

Well, you did warn him. But when has Endo ever let a warning stop him? You’re so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that even when the consequences of his actions leave him dying from a broken heart, Endo doesn’t think he will ever regret his choices.

TAKIISHI CHIKA -> SHE MAKES THE DEVIL WET HIS BED AT NIGHTTIME !

Takiishi isn’t used to chasing after people.

Even now, he tries not to show you how much he likes you. He knows you’re a sadist; he’s not blind to the long line of guys that you have left begging on their knees... and how you revel at their tears.

But Takiishi just can’t control himself when you get friendly with other guys. He knows that sometimes you do it purposefully. Why, he has no idea. Maybe you want to remind him that you’re able to leave him anytime, that he should stay on his knees for you.

Even without you testing him, Takiishi will always spend his lifetime begging for a fraction of your affection. He doesn’t care about what he has to do as long as he can be with you.

“Chika-kun.”

He already knows what you’re going to say next. “You know why I beat the shit out of him.” He states, getting up from his seat. “He loves it when you take care of his injuries. You know that.”

You sigh and close the door behind you. “Perhaps. Does that anger you?”

Takiishi wonders why you like to test his patience. No matter what you do, he can never bring himself to hurt you. He can’t even say anything that might offend you.

“Why do you not like me?” Takiishi questions, “Yet, you still linger around me. Why?”

He doesn’t even dare to slam the wall next to you, opting instead to cage you with his arms.

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“You..”

“I like you, Chika-kun.” There’s sincerity in your voice, but you’re not done. “It’s just that.. I also like Yamato-kun, Hajime-kun—”

“Stop.” Takiishi growls, “Do you want me to beat all of them to a pulp? You know that’s what I will do every time you say their name in my presence.”

“And give Yamato-kun another reason to spend more time with me? Make me visit Hajime-kun until his wounds are completely healed? Because you know they will let you throw that punch,” you whisper in his ear sweetly, “so I can take pity on them.”

Takiishi wants to scream, but no sound came out.

“But you will always win, Chika-kun. You’re the strongest fighter, after all. With no wound to dress, who will take pity on you?”

God, you’re mean today.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he did, or what to say. He just wants you to stop being so cruel.

You laugh. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you hug him, feeling his arms immediately snaking around your waist to pull your closer. You let him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Oh, Chika-kun. How can I ever leave you?”

“Don’t.”

If anyone were to see the Takiishi Chika, speaking so softly and acting so defeated, his reputation would’ve crumbled to the ground. Thankfully you’re not just anyone— you’re the only weakness he has, the one thing he will never let go.

No matter how bloody his hands get, he will make sure to take care of your long line of guys so that he will be the last man standing.

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dragonsondragons · 2 days ago

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Prologue/Hard To Resist

Part of the You Should Probably Leave series

Description: In which Jack’s therapist challenges him to enjoy the daytime and he admits he has a work crush.

Warnings: yearning!jack, medical social worker!reader, reader is Jack’s work crush, slow burn, tons of therapy, working through trauma, Jack on his #healingjourney, angst, unspecified age gap.

Word Count: 2.1k

Authors Note: Enjoy the first little snippet of this story! This part is solely Abbot's POV during a therapy session, but next part we will see him interacting with reader and the rest of the Pitt crew. Yay! Let the yearning begin, hope you enjoy :) This series is based on the song You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton, I would highly recommend giving it a listen before/while reading.

(I thought this gif from Chicago PD was so Jack at his therapists office lol)

[Masterlist]

Jack’s therapist had recommended that he try to get more comfortable in the daytime. His relative ease in the darkness of the night was a useful coping mechanism for a time, she explained to him one session, but he didn't have to be in fight mode anymore. She was encouraging him to seek out safety and connection in the daytime so that his past had less control over his present.

Jack had scoffed when she said that. Because what else does his past do than rear its ugly head every moment of every day? And did he even want to forget it? All of those soldiers he couldn’t save? They deserved to be remembered.

“This isn’t about forgetting them,” she reminded him, “but rather processing your past experiences so that they are less distressing in the present. Putting yourself outside of your comfort zone of the night could be empowering. It could give you enough space to hold those people with you and move forward living as full of a life as you can. In their honor.”

“In their honor,” Jack echoed, mulling it over. He could do that. He wanted to do that. Move forward. That’s why he was doing all this work in therapy. But one thing he had come to find out, is that actually changing is a lot harder than knowing you want to.

“Any ideas on what could be your first attempt at enjoying the daytime? Maybe some sort of social interaction,” she led him with her question. Her and Jack had talked about the power of improving social bonds before, how they can create community and give someone a deeper experience of life. Jack promised to give it a try but admittedly doesn't follow through much on that one. Jack didn’t really want a deeper experience of life if that meant opening yourself up to feeling all the pain that comes along with it more deeply, too.

��I don’t know, doc. I don't have many friends.”

“Outside of work, you mean?” she said, surprised at his statement. He spoke of his coworkers all the time, they seemed plenty friendly.

“Well…there’s Robby. We hang out outside of work.” By that, he means that they push each other around at beer league hockey when their work schedules allow it and then grab a beer after. Other than that, their main points of interaction are admittedly at work, often on the roof of PTMC.

“Yes, there’s Robby. But that's not exactly out of your comfort zone. That's pretty firmly within it from what I know.” Jack was silent, not keeping eye contact like he usually does. She could see there was something he wasn’t letting on. She never forced Jack to talk about anything he wasn’t ready to. That's something he appreciated about his therapist. But she also knew when she could push him a little bit. “Anyone else, then?” He’s silent again. She let it simmer, waiting for him to fill the gaps.

“There’s someone I work with,” Jack blurts out, his ears turning red. His knee was bouncing up and down.

Your face flashed in his mind and he wrung his hands together. Jack was usually good at composure, but he found himself starting to crumble at the mere thought of you.

“You seem a little nervous. Care to tell me more about this someone?”

“Uh, well…yeah, she makes me a little nervous sometimes. But mostly she calms me down.” He wasn’t letting on much.

“Hmm, what about her calms you down?” his therapist hummed, encouraging him to continue.

“She's a social worker in the ED. Smart, caring, great at what she does,” he rambles. “We eat lunch together sometimes. If the timing works out on shift. When I'm having a shitty time at work… sometimes she makes me feel better. Just her being there.” He thinks about your knee brushing against his under the table after he made you laugh. Some stupid story about a guy who broke his femur literally slipping on a banana peel.

“So what about her makes you nervous then, if she makes you feel better?”

“I mean– she's beautiful, that's mostly what makes me nervous.”

I can’t believe I just said all that, he facepalms internally. With all the respressing Jack does, sometimes a feeling will just catch up to him out of nowhere. There are a lot of things he used to distract himself throughout the day. From working in the ED or drowning out the silence at home with the police scanner, to working out until his whole body ached and volunteering at the VA. But there was never enough to fully distract him, eventually whatever it was he was trying to prevent floats to the surface.

After losing his wife years ago, after losing his brothers in a desert overseas, Jack had played it pretty close to the chest with his feelings. If he doesn't show his emotions, even to himself, then he could try to pretend they don’t exist. That the pain doesn’t exist.

But that's why he’s in therapy, because the pain still very much exists. And one day he finally realized he couldn’t go on any longer without doing something about it. That was more than a year ago now.

For this to work, you have to be honest with me, he remembers his therapist saying in their first session. But most importantly you have to be honest with yourself.

If he’s being real honest with himself, he likes you. He had barely even admitted it to himself before today, but god he likes you. And with each day you were getting harder and harder for him to resist.

Now, he had practically announced the crush to his therapist. Admitting out loud that he has some type of feelings for you made him more nervous than anything else. He couldn’t deny it now. Time to be honest.

“Maybe you should invite her to do something with you,” she proposes with a knowing look.

“I don't know if that would be a good idea,” Jack says earnestly. Maybe he had admitted the crush but that doesn't mean he was ready to do something about it.

“Why’s that?”

“Because she probably doesn't want anything to do with this,” he gestures around himself vigorously, slightly worked up. “I’m a little fucked up, and scary, I guess… I’ve heard people say.” And old, he thinks to himself, too old for her at least.

“Did she tell you she wants nothing to do with you?”

“No.”

“Then you don't know that. You said you eat lunch together. If she chooses to spend her valuable break time with you she likely enjoys being around you.” His face is full of apprehension. “You’re allowed to let yourself have good things, Jack.”

“There’s this part of me that wants to believe that,” he admits quietly. He’s opened this door now and there’s no closing it. He can’t help being drawn to you anymore. “But there's also a louder part of me screaming run.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, head hanging and taking a deep sigh.

“Remember that the brain’s automatic response is not always logical. Sometimes the loudest voice is actually the most illogical. And if you listen to it, it can cause you to spiral.”

“I've been thinking about that one, doc. I’ve been trying. To stop the spiral.” That’s one of the biggest challenges for him. To not let flashes of dark moments spiral into a category five hurricane. To take back his agency over his thoughts.

“Good. How is it going?” He blows out a long breath, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Not so great. For a long time, my automatic thoughts,” he puts up air quotes around the phrase, “My instincts, they saved my life. Saved other guys lives in the med tent. So it's kinda hard to rewrite that pathway.” A lot of the time, he couldn't help but feel like ordinary decisions still meant life or death. So much anxiety had built up inside him that it felt like if he chose the wrong thing at the grocery store a bomb would explode.

“You’re not at war anymore though, Jack. Letting yourself enjoy this woman’s presence in your life won’t get anyone killed.”

“Yeah.” Again, he’s quiet, remembering.

“Part of processing is not letting past trauma control the now. Remember, things can be different this time. You’re encountering a whole different set of challenges in the present that don’t always require the tools of the past.”

“My shrink, always so wise,” Jack jokes.

“I asked you not to call me that,” she scolds him.

“Sorry, got a lot I'm working on at the moment.”

This gets his therapist to crack a smile, glancing down at her watch. “Time to wrap up. Keep working at that– making the choice to challenge your automatic thoughts. What's important is that you try to recognize them as they pop up and inquire as to why you may think that it’s true. It takes time and repetition, but you’ll get there. You’re doing well, really.”

“Thanks, doc.”

“And don't forget your homework. To do something out during the daytime. Not errands or the gym, but something you’ll have fun doing.” Jack rolls his eyes. She must really think I'm a snooze fest, he thinks.

“I know you can have fun, Jack. You’re human, just like the rest of us.” Sometimes he felt like a cyborg forged for war that would never be wired for civilian life ever again. But that’s all he was now, a civilian. A doctor. Not a cyborg, just a man. Through the sludge of his past– all that he’s seen and felt– what he has to do now is figure out how to live again. Too many years have passed him by in a haze.

“Whatever you say doc.” He does a loose salute with his fingers as he gets up from his chair to exit her office. “See ya next week.”

“See you then,” she responds, scribbling down notes from the session as he steps out the door.

“Oh!” she yells after him. “And I’ll give you extra credit if the fun involves this woman from work.”

Jack only scoffed in response, then blushed in the elevator all the way back down to the lobby.

————

Driving from his therapist’s office to the pit, he brainstormed what he could do for his “daylight assignment”. Just the thought of it was setting him on edge. All of the people and noises and atrocities that happen while everyone is awake. He’d do whatever this is in the day time, sure. But firmly in the afternoon so that the comfort of night would come soon enough and greet him, he decided.

He wants it at his own house too, in his own space, to help dull the anxiety inside him. That would have to mean inviting people over. At least it would be people he chooses to invite, another element he could control. Robby, Dana, Shen, Ellis— they knew Jack, didn't expect too much from him.

Then there was you. You who had boundless empathy for any patient that walked in the door and extensive knowledge of any resources that could help them. He admired your commitment to the patients and their families, in supporting people outside of just their medical needs. And of course, you radiate beauty like a goddamn emergency department Snow White.

Your presence simply made Jack feel at ease, and in a place like the Pitt that was a very welcome feeling. But as much as he craved it, Jack was not used to feeling at ease. Eventually, his mind would rebel and tell him to retreat; that the peace was too good to be true. He couldn’t let himself have this. It was too risky. He had to resist.

Automatic thought! He warned himself. Ugh. Jack was tired. Tired of having to be so vigilant even inside his own head. Tired of whatever devil was on his shoulder always whispering in his ear. No, not whispering. Yelling. His therapist was right, the thoughts were loud. What had she said? Inquire why you think these thoughts may be true, he recalls.

Why does he think he has to resist? Because everything good he’s ever had falls apart. Usually he was the one who ripped it apart. Never on purpose, just through being who he was, who life and war had made him.

Things could be different this time, Jack reminds himself, drumming his thumbs over the steering wheel. He sighs deeply, groans.

As much as he was spooked by the revelation that he couldn't contain his desire for you so well anymore, he was also enflamed by it. He wanted an angel on his shoulder. He wanted you.

The voice inside of him saying that wasn’t harshly yelling, there were no flashing lights or sirens. It was steady, calm, all encompassing. And pure warmth. Maybe that’s how he can tell it's the right voice to listen to.

Fuck it. He decided. I’m gonna throw a party and she’s gonna be the goddamn guest of honor.

#jack abott #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot fic #the pitt hbo #the pitt fic #shawn hatosy #dr abbot #Spotify

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oopsiedaisydeer · 22 hours ago

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how to lose a guy in 10 days

slow burn, mutual pining, dual pov, fake dating, angst, comedy, miscommunication, fluff, enemies to lovers (kinda)

word count - 700ish

day zero

Boston in the summer felt like a hot ex you kept bumping into… steamy, inconvenient, and never where you wanted them to be.

The air conditioning at work was broken again, and she had resorted to sticking her head in the office fridge somewhere between edits. Her laptop fan wheezed like it was dying of heartbreak. The clack of cheap acrylic nails echoed from two desks over.

“I’m telling you, he ghosted me because I said I could see us getting a dog together.”

She blinked at the screen. Backspaced a sentence. Sighed.

“Tiffany,” she said calmly, “you brought him to your nephew’s baptism. On day three.”

TIffany, her best friend-slash-office deskmate-slash-chronic oversharer, looked wounded.

“It was a potluck baptism,” she protested. “I made banana bread. He said he liked banana bread!”

“You don’t trap a man with banana bread, Tiff.”

Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “Says the girl who’s emotionally unavailable, professionally. You write about love like it’s a science experiment.”

“It is,” she muttered, then louder: “Love is pattern recognition mixed with hormones and unmet childhood needs. Sprinkle in some mutual delusion.”

“You’re a monster.”

“And you’re too much.”

Tiffany gasped, clutched her invisible pearls.

She stood from her chair, stretched her arms above her head, and sighed again… longer this time, for dramatic effect.

“You’re not undateable,” she added. “You’re just... aggressively available. Men panic when you make them feel needed. Trust me. If I acted like you for one week, the guy would be out the door in two days.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

The idea hit like a lightning bolt: fast, dumb, and probably about to ruin her life.

“I will,” she said slowly, a grin stretching across her lips. “I’ll pick a guy. I’ll act as crazy and clingy and emotionally chaotic as humanly possible. And I’ll write about it. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

Tiffany leaned forward, intrigued. “You’d do that? For journalism?”

“No,” Reader said, tapping her pen against her temple. “For revenge.”

Ten minutes later, she pitched it to her editor.

“Sounds unhinged,” said Maria, not looking up from her phone. “I love it. Ten days. Make it funny. No lawsuits.”

Meanwhile, across the city in a perfectly air-conditioned house, Matt Sturniolo adjusted his cap and tried not to roll his eyes.

“You just don’t give main character energy,” Chris said, sipping a pepsi with way too much confidence.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re like... cool, mysterious, whatever. But you’ve got no rizz.”

Matt frowned. “I have rizz.”

Nick chimed in from across the table, scrolling through his phone. “I mean… our manager did say we need more emotional content if we want more brand deals. People want a ‘soft launch’ post. You or Chris with a girl. Beach date, shared hoodie, that sort of thing.”

“Neither of us even have a girlfriend.”

“Exactly,” Chris said, smirking. “But you know I could pick one up tomorrow.”

Matt sighed at his younger brother. “That’s not something to brag about.”

“I’m not saying it is, just saying I could do it fast. Make someone fall in love with me.”

He laughed. “You can’t rush that.”

Nick shrugged. “Then I guess we can’t do this brand deal. They want vulnerable Matt. Fall-in-love Matt. Not ‘I only eat grilled cheese’ Matt.”

“Hey!”

Then Chris gets a look on his face. Like he’s just come up with a wicked, terrible idea.

“Bet you can’t make someone fall in love with you in 10 days.”

Matt knows he shouldn’t respond, but there’s just something about him and his brothers that sometimes lead him to the stupidest decisions.

“What do I get if I do?”

Chris grins, looks over at their older brother, who’s been side-eyeing them both. “Nick, how much was that brand deal?”

“15 thousand.”

Chris nods and glances back at Matt, before gesturing toward the door. “There’s a bar down the street. Let fate pick your victim.”

“15 thousand dollars if I get someone to fall in love with me?”

“Yep.”

Matt rolled his eyes but stood anyway, taking off his cap and fixing his hair.

“Ten days,” he muttered. “You’re both insane.”

But he headed to the bar anyway.

Because deep down, he hated losing.

Outside, the Boston sky glowed orange, the breeze sticky but soft. She stepped into the bar in her work clothes, hair starting to frizz, makeup not touched up.

She ordered the strongest drink they had and swore she’d pick the first guy who smiled at her.

Matt stepped in two minutes later, awkwardly smug and ready to win. He slid into the seat next to her, and when she looked over and smiled at him, he knew.

They both smiled.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

And that’s when it started.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws ꨄ

a/n: first part of this!!! i'm glad i turned it into a series i think that works better 😊

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heartyluv · 2 days ago

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⋆⁺₊❅. ⋆꙳*̩̩͙ ❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Note: I know we’re in May, but I felt like it being Christmas works well in this little story and I’ve had this idea for a few days so I’m excited. I listened to Love Wins All by IU when I wrote this and would I be crazy if I got a littleeee emotional?

Creds to @/anitalenia for the dividers!

Warning: Nothing, honestly. I’m using Caleb becoming a Colonel as the reason you divorced. This is just angsty Caleb declaring his love to his ex-wife.

Word Count: 2,362

Summary: Letting your ex-husband come over for Christmas was bound to stir the pot.

Ex-Husband!Caleb/Reader

You loved your children with everything in your being. They were the most precious things to you in the world and you’d do anything to make them happy. It’s why when they begged you for days to let their father be here when they open their Christmas gifts tomorrow morning, you couldn’t tell them no.

Many people would look at you crazy for letting your ex-husband come into your home and play house, especially with the divorce being so fresh. It’s only been a year since everything was finalized and to this day, your heart still aches when you think about how everything transpired between you two.

When Caleb became a colonel, you thought it was the beginning of something monumental. And in hindsight, it was. It just led to the end of what you both thought would be forever. You found yourself home alone with your first born baby boy all the time, never getting to see your husband in the daylight because he was coming home so late. He missed so many of your son’s milestones and no amount of apologies and kisses made up for the fact that you felt like you were doing it all on your own.

You knew that the job was challenging and demanding, but it was changing him in a way you couldn’t understand. Caleb didn’t agree, telling you at the time that he had to be this dedicated, that he didn’t get to where he is by not giving it his all. He used the fact that he needed to take care of his family as a crutch as to why he was letting the job consume him, but you knew better. His position is something he’s always longed for and you’ve known that in all the years you’ve been together.

But even if you did know better, you still stayed because you swore it would get better.

It’s why you ended up pregnant again with your precious girl not long after your son turned two. But when you saw that the cycle only repeated itself, that it seemed like you lost your husband entirely, you knew what you had to do, even if it broke you.

There was too much fighting, too much back and forth, and it became all consuming in the way that you felt like you were losing him and yourself. It’s why you offered a proposition that nearly drove Caleb mad. But when he saw how unhappy you were, how drained you became, even in the end if it meant breaking his own heart and destroying himself, he’d always put you and the wellbeing of your children above himself. He wasn’t stupid, Caleb knew how he failed you as your husband and he’d always regret it because he wished that it didn’t happen and that he tried harder before it became too late.

You two went your separate ways and it took both you and the kids time to adjust, but you were making it. If it weren’t for them, you don’t know how’d you be. It was so hard telling them that their dad wouldn’t be around at all, that they’d be going to him without you from now on and vice versa.

Caleb was still taking care of you, even if you weren’t together. You told him over and over that it wasn’t necessary, that you’d find a job and handle your end. But he wouldn’t have it.

“You only need to be the mother and woman I fell in love with. There isn’t a thing that you could say or do that would make me stop being there for you and our children.”

In that moment, you felt like your resolve almost broke. But you stood your ground and reluctantly accepted his care, seeing as you really had no choice. He made sure you kept the house, paid for the bills, gave you extra money for yourself and the kids, always stocked up on food. He was treating it like you were still a unit, and you never knew how to feel about that.

Despite it all, you could never deny that Caleb has always been a phenomenal father. It was only being a husband that it seemed to not grasp the entirety of. He gave your babies the world and you couldn’t ask for a better man to have as the father of your children.

It’s Christmas Eve evening as your kids sit in front of the TV, watching classic holiday films you grew up, with when you hear the doorbell ring. You dry your hands, stepping away from the now empty sink and walk to the front door. As you open it, there stands Caleb with a slightly red nose from the frigid temperature. Some snow sticks to his jacket and hair, making him look like a scene out of a movie. He gently smiles at you and you reciprocate, and you step over as the kids come running at him full speed.

“Daddy!” they exclaim with joy as they wrap themselves around his legs.

He chuckles before he kneels down to take them into a tight hug. “My two favorite people in the world,” he hums as they giggle in his hold. “You excited for tomorrow?”

“Yeah!” your son says enthusiastically before he frowns. “Santa hasn’t come yet.”

“I want see Santa!” your daughter folds her arms dramatically. Caleb kisses her cheeks and she giggles. She’s always been a daddy’s girl.

Caleb looks behind them to see that under the tree is empty. He already knows the tradition. You guys always put the presents under when they fall asleep, and it’s no different now. He looks up at you while you watch the exchange, winking with a sly smirk. You shake your head, unable to stop the smile that decorates your face.

“You guys eat?” he asks as he stands to usher them inside the warm home.

Your kids talk his ear off as they tell them about their dinner, the breakfast you plan on cooking, what they asked Santa for, all while you sneak out the back to take the presents he bought and put them in the side closet so they can be added to the collection you have.

It’s not long until Caleb tires them out from all the playing and conversation, tucking them into bed with gentle kisses to their foreheads. After he leaves their bedroom, he walks in the living room to find you already stacking presents.

“Let me help,” he voices. After grabbing some gifts from the closet, he kneels beside you to start laying everything out, just how you like.

“How’ve you been?” he asks. You swallow, clearing your throat. You haven’t really uttered a word to him since he got here and now that you’re alone, for the first time since the divorce, it all feels so surreal.

“I’m okay,” you answer gently. “How are you?” He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Just,” he sighs. “Talking to you like it’s the first time we’ve ever spoken in our life feels…wrong? I don’t know.”

Your jaw tenses. “I get it.” You think of how to shift the conversation, not quite ready to delve into this. “Thank you for coming, by the way. The kids really—”

“I miss you,” he interrupts, and this time you freeze.

“I miss you and the kids. I miss being home. I miss us.”

“Caleb, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? Tell you that I never wanted this? That we’re supposed to be together? That not having you makes everything feel fucking impossible?”

“You should’ve throught about that before you put being colonel above being a husband.”

That stings him, slaps him in the face. Feels like it shot him in the stomach. He gulps, staring at you even if you won’t look at him.

He looks down at his hands, watching them turn to fists because of the anger he holds toward himself. “I messed up.”

“You did.”

“Let me fix it,” he begs. “It’s not too late for us, I know it isn’t. I know you still want me, still love me.”

“You’re being so unfair,” you shake your head, feeling the tears burn your eyes. “This isn’t what you came for.”

“I came for my family, and that has and will always, include you.”

You don’t answer and that frustrates him. The way you keep sliding festively wrapped boxes under the tree like he isn’t telling you that he wants a second chance, is enough to make his heart thump even faster in his chest.

“Look at me,” he commands shakily.

“You don’t get to see how much you hurt me, how lonely you made me, watch our marriage fall apart, then try to come in here for redemption after all this time, Caleb!” When you notice how raised your voice has become, you press your lips together to collect yourself. The last thing you want to do is wake up your kids. “Even though we signed the papers a year ago, there hasn’t been nothing family about us for even longer.”

“I was selfish, I know that. I needed to do better, I want to, I always have. Baby, I will. Every time I walk into my empty apartment without you to kiss, to love, to hold… Without my kids…I feel the weight of my stupidity suffocate me with every step I take.”

“I can’t do this,” you sniffle, getting ready to stand, but Caleb grabs your hand before you can. His silver necklace glimmers against the warm lamp light beside him and your eyes trail up his neck, past his perfect nose and into his.

Your lip quivers as he pulls you up. He grabs your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours as a tear falls down your cheek. You brace your hands on his wrists as he holds you, unable to open your eyes.

“I never stopped loving you. I never will,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your skin. “I was lost, and instead of leaning on you, I abandoned you. But know that there is no lifetime, no timeline in any universe, that could keep me from you. Every part of me will always belong to you.” His voice cracks at his admission.

“Caleb…” you say his name as if it was a stress reliever. Like voicing it could make all the ache in your chest dissipate.

“Don’t you remember? How good we used to feel? How good I made you feel? I know your body and soul better than anyone—not even you could take that privilege from me, baby. I was too late before. Let me do better now.”

With shaky breath, unbridled emotions, and conflicting thoughts, you tilt your head up. He looks down at you with pain that mirrors your own, desire that matches your being. And he doesn’t ask for permission, doesn’t wait because even while he’s chipping away at your walls, he knows you’ll try and swiftly put them back up—and he kisses you.

His tongue mingles with yours as you hesitate to feel him.

“Touch me,” he begs. “Please, touch me.“

When you succumb to his request and your hands grip his hair for the first time in what feels like forever, he melts into your hold. He devours your mouth like you’ll slip away from him at any moment and based on the reality, it’s a strong possibility. So he relishes in your taste, memorizes you all over again because divorce and pain changes a whole person’s being. He knows this because it did it to him.

He’s not the same man he was. In fact, he believes he’s a better one. He just needs you to give him the chance to show you. It’s unfortunate that it took losing you to correct himself.

“Let me come home,” he bites your lip, groaning at how you whimper. “Let me come home to you and our babies.”

You just keep kissing him because you don’t know if you’re ready to give him what he wants, even if you want it to. It’s because he knows you so well that he doesn’t need you to say it. He just needs you both to stay right here for as long as you’ll allow it.

When you finally pull apart, he’s caressing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Why now..?” you ask.

“I finally got the courage to face my mistakes. I wanted to fight the divorce the moment you asked for it, and with the little fight that I did give, I only hurt you more. I knew there was no winning side of it all for either of us. Being together hurt and being apart proved to do the same. But we’re here now,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let me be what I should’ve been, right now. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

Your eyes soften, one of your hands gently tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m scared, Caleb. I don’t… I can’t be hurt again.”

“You won’t be,” he promises. “I’d rather die than put you through anything like this again. You and the kids.”

“Will you give me time? To think?”

It’s not what he wanted to hear, but it’s not a no. So for now, it’ll have to do.

“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. Not if my family isn’t with me.”

It takes all your strength to separate yourself from him. He promises to finish putting the gifts beneath the tree because distance is needed right now. So when you retreat to your bedroom and shut the door behind you, your press your back against it and put your palm to your mouth.

You suppress the sounds of your weeping, feeling the emotions rack and shake your body. You’ve missed him so much, you knew the man you loved was never gone. And now that he’s seems to be back, you have to decide for you and your children if starting over is something you’re prepared for. If it’s something you should even consider doing.

If Caleb really wants this, if he’s truly ready, then you’re sure that the love you’ve always had for each other, will win above all.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb angst #lads caleb

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brownsugarcoffy · 2 days ago

Text

The Vine Between Us (2)

Summary

Annie left the Mississippi Delta with a broken heart and a full-ride scholarship, determined never to look back. Now a celebrated professor in Chicago, she’s called home to care for her mother—and the last thing she expects is to run straight into him.

Elijah "Smoke". Her first love. Her first everything.

He disappeared the summer after graduation, leaving only unanswered calls and a goodbye she never got. Now he's back in town, running a moody, magnetic blues lounge with his twin brother, playing late into the humid Southern nights like he’s pouring his soul out just for her.

Annie wants to hate him. She wants to forget the way he made her feel. But one look from those stormy eyes, and she’s seventeen again—burning, aching, and lost in the man he’s become.

He left without a word. But now? He wants to finish the story they never got to end.

Characters: Annie x Elijah " Smoke" Moore (Modern AU)

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Mention of Abuse, Vulgar Language, Sexual content & more...

Chapters: PART (1)

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I really do appreciate it! Feedback is very much welcome, and if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know. Enjoy!

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The air seemed to settle, but Annie felt anything but steady. Her stomach churned. She gripped the red basket tighter, her knuckles pale against the handle. Pearline said something, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater.

“Elijah,” she murmured, not as a name, but a wound. One that hadn’t fully closed in nine damn years.

Pearline leaned on the cart. “Annie?”

Annie let out a short breath that didn’t feel like relief. “He looked right at me, Pearline. Like he hadn’t disappeared. Like he hadn’t left me without a goodbye or a damn word.”

“You never talked to him since?”

Annie scoffed, tossing a box of cornmeal into the basket like it had offended her. “Not once. He didn’t write. Didn’t call. Nothing.”

“I thought Stack sent you letters?”

“He did. Two. That’s it. Told me they enlisted. Said they left the next morning after graduation. But Elijah? Nothing. Not even a ‘I’m sorry.’” Her voice was rising now, emotions climbing up her throat. “We were kids, yeah, but I loved him, Pearline. I thought he loved me. He let me plan out our whole summer together, let me sit there talking about the future like we had one—and all the while he knew he was leavin’.”

Pearline looked at her gently. “Maybe it was hard for him to say goodbye.”

Annie gave a sharp laugh. “You don’t ghost someone you love because it’s hard. You show up. You explain. You give them something—a note, a moment, a goodbye kiss, I don’t care. But he gave me nothing. He took the boy I loved and vanished like it never happened. And now he’s just… back. Lookin’ at me like we’ve only been apart a season.”

She paused, swallowing hard, then added, “You know what the worst part is?”

Pearline shook her head.

“I waited. For months. I’d check the mailbox like a fool. I'd look out the window every time a car slowed down. Mama thought I was sick. And then Stack’s second letter came. Told me Elijah got quiet. Said he wasn’t the same. Said to move on.”

Pearline touched her arm. “Have you ever written back?”

Annie shook her head, eyes glassy. “What was there to say? ‘Thanks for the crumbs?'"

The two stood in silence for a moment, the hum of the freezer aisle filling the space between their memories. Annie blinked away the sting in her eyes, gathering herself again.

“I don’t care how good he looks now,” she said tightly. “I buried him nine years ago. I’m not digging up bones.”

Pearline didn’t argue. She just nodded, pushing her cart toward the register. “Well… if you change your mind, I hear The Cypress Lounge got the kind of ghosts that sing when you listen real close.”

Annie watched her go, the ache still pressing against her ribs like old bruises. She wasn’t ready to see him again—not like that. Not when all she wanted to do was ask why and hit him in the same breath.

The screen door creaked open as Annie followed her mother up the front steps, grocery bags tugging at her fingers. The sun had started to drop, casting long shadows across the porch. Cicadas buzzed in the trees, a lazy hum that made the evening feel heavier somehow.

“You gon’ pout all night or help me put these greens in water?” Mama asked, setting her bags down on the kitchen table with a soft grunt.

Annie didn’t answer right away. She moved through the kitchen like she was underwater, setting things down without care, her mind still circling the moment Elijah’s eyes locked on hers in Bo Chow’s. Nine years, and he hadn’t flinched. Like he expected her to still be there, standing still.

“I saw Elijah,” she said finally.

Her mother didn’t look surprised. “I figured. Ruby called me from the parking lot. Said she spotted you at Bo Chow’s, lookin’ like you seen a ghost.”

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Of course Ruby nosey self did.”

“She was just picking up some turnips, and saw you ducking behind cereal like a sinner hiding from the deacons,” her mother said, with a knowing look. “Said he looked good, though. That was her exact phrasing—‘that boy aged like a mahogany tree and shame on him.’”

Annie scoffed. “Of course she’d notice that.”

Her mother started unpacking the collards, her hands working with muscle memory. “You still mad at him?”

Annie let out a bitter breath. “Mad? I was ruined, Mama. He left me like I was nothing. Like we were nothing. Didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even call. Just disappeared with Stack and never looked back.”

“Stack wrote you.”

“Elijah didn’t.”

Her mother nodded slowly, rinsing the greens. “You were young. So was he.”

“That’s no excuse. He could’ve told me. He owed me something.”

Her mother set the colander down, turning to face her. “You right. He did. But maybe he didn’t know how to face you. Maybe leaving was harder than you think.”

Annie shook her head, eyes starting to sting again. “Then he shouldn’t have let me dream about a future he never intended to give me.”

Her mother walked over and cupped her face gently. “You held on too long, baby. You let that silence become your whole story. Maybe now’s your chance to write a new ending.”

Annie pulled away, blinking back tears. “I’m not interested in happy endings. Not with him.”

Her mother didn’t press. She simply kissed her forehead and returned to the sink, humming an old blues tune under her breath. Annie stood still, the weight of the past pressing against her chest like a stone.

Later that night, after the greens were cleaned and stewing low on the stove, Annie sat on the porch with a glass of sweet tea sweating in her hand. The crickets were out now, and the breeze carried the soft scent of honeysuckle from the side of the house. Her mother was rocking beside her, shelling peas into a bowl like she always did when she wanted to talk without pressing too hard.

“You hear from that teacher fella lately?” Mama asked, keeping her eyes on her hands.

Annie took a sip, not looking her way. “Nah. I let that go.”

“That’s what, the third man this year you done ‘let go’?”

Annie gave a half-shrug. “It wasn’t working.”

Mama smiled faintly. “It never does when they start talkin’ forever, huh?”

Annie’s jaw tightened just a little, but she didn’t respond.

“They don’t measure up?” her mother asked lightly, but the words had weight.

Annie looked out at the yard, where the porch light barely touched the overgrown grass near the fence. “It’s not about measuring up. I just... don’t feel it. Not like that.”

Her mother was quiet for a moment, and then said, almost to herself, “You felt it once though. All the way through.”

Annie’s breath hitched just a little, but she forced herself to stay still. “That was a long time ago.”

Her mother nodded slowly. “Mm-hmm.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m not hung up on Elijah,” Annie said suddenly, a little too fast. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I ain’t say his name.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Her mother looked over at her, warm eyes sharp with knowing. “You’ve had good men, Annie. Kind ones. Smart ones. Ones who wanted to build something real with you. But you run every time they open that door.”

Annie looked down at her glass. The ice had melted.

“I guess I just ain’t the buildin’ kind.”

Her mother didn’t push. She never did. She just kept shelling those peas, soft click-clack sounds filling the quiet.

But Annie knew. She knew her mother saw the space inside her heart where Elijah’s ghost still lived. The part of her that had never healed right. Like a broken bone that fused crooked—strong enough to carry on, but always aching when the weather changed.

And no matter how much she denied it, or how many smiles she forced through new dates and fresh starts, that pain had made her cautious. Distant. Every time love reached out, she pulled away just enough to keep from bleeding again.

Her mama let the silence sit a minute longer before dropping another shell into the bowl and saying, like it was nothing more than a passing thought, “You know… Stacks used to light up like a Christmas tree whenever he saw you.”

Annie blinked, caught off guard. “Stacks?”

“Mmhmm,” her mother nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. “Even when y��all were just kids. Always hanging around the house askin’ where you were. But Lord, he was too busy chasin’ every girl with good hair and fast hips.”

Annie huffed a dry laugh. “Yeah. Stacks flirted with anything that moved. He was always trying to charm his way outta trouble.”

“Still, that boy looked at you differently,” her mama said softly. “Not like the others. And not just ‘cause of Elijah either.”

Annie shook her head, lips tugging upward despite herself. “Stacks was just a clown. Sweet, sure, but not serious. Not back then.”

Her mother gave her a sideways glance. “Maybe not. But you never did give him the time of day.”

“That’s because I only had eyes for one person.” The words slipped out before Annie could catch them, and she immediately regretted it.

Her mama didn’t press. She just reached for another pea pod, her voice gentle. “Funny how you still talk about Elijah like you seventeen.”

“I don’t,” Annie said, too quickly.

“Mmhmm,” her mother replied, which was her polite way of saying yes, you do.

Annie sighed and leaned back in her chair, watching the porch light flicker like it was thinking about giving up. Her heart felt tight in her chest, the weight of memories pressing in. She thought she’d buried that chapter of her life deep enough that even her mama couldn’t dig it up, but somehow all it took was one encounter at Bo Chow’s and her world was unraveling.

And now her mother was talking about Stacks like he might be an option, as if Annie still had something left to give.

“Stacks was always a better talker than Elijah,” her mother added, almost sly now. “At least he wrote.”

Annie didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Because her mother was right. Stacks had written to her, twice. Letters that came months after they’d vanished. Words that tried to explain what Elijah never did.

Her mama set the bowl down, wiped her hands on her apron, and turned to face her daughter. “That boy left a hole in you, baby. I know that. But I also know you never let anyone else even try to fill it.”

Annie looked away.

Her mother hesitated, then smiled faintly. “You remember how you used to love to walk barefoot in the greenhouse?”

Annie’s brows lifted. “Of course.”

“I saw you one night. Slipping out through your window. I got up to get some water, and there you were, tiptoeing like you were a spy or somethin’.”

Annie blinked. “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t have to. You were lucky it was me that saw you. If it had been your daddy...” Her mama shook her head, laughing under her breath. “He liked Elijah, sure. But he was no fool. He knew Elijah was still a boy—and boys have eyes, especially for girls they ain’t supposed to be out with that late.”

Annie’s cheeks flushed with memory. “You knew all this time?”

“I knew more than you thought. I remember the way you used to come home glowing like the moon had whispered secrets in your ear. And I knew it was only a matter of time before that boy either broke your heart... or tried to keep it.”

There was a long silence between them.

Annie finally whispered, “He didn’t try to keep it. He just left.”

Her mama softened. “He was young. Didn’t know how to be honest. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. And you’ve been holding that silence like it’s yours to carry.”

Her mama looked at her long and deep. “You may not owe him a second chance, Annie. But you do owe yourself a real one.”

After dinner, Annie helped her mother clear the table, both of them moving in a quiet rhythm honed by years of coexisting in the same modest kitchen. The clink of plates and the soft scrape of forks filled the silence between them. Her mother wiped the last of the crumbs into her palm and tossed them into the trash before speaking.

“Why are you so quiet over there, child?”

Annie gave a half-smile. “I’ve just been thinking.”

Her mother didn’t press. She knew Annie well enough to let her thoughts settle on their own time. But when Annie leaned back against the counter and said, “I might go out for a little bit,” her mother stopped rinsing the sink.

“Where to?”

“Pearline said she might stop by Cypress Lounge tonight. Thought I’d catch up with her.”

Her mother slowly turned off the faucet and dried her hands on the dish towel. “The lounge?”

Annie gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”

“Hmm.” The sound carried meaning. Not quite judgment, but not surprise either.

Annie rolled her eyes with a teasing smirk. “And yes, I know who owns it.”

Her mother raised a brow. “Stacks and Smoke. That ain’t no secret, child.”

“They’ve probably done well with it,” Annie said, unsure why she felt the need to defend them.

“They always knew how to hustle,” her mother replied, her tone neutral. “Still... walking into their world again ain’t like passing through the produce aisle at Piggly Wiggly.”

Annie chuckled despite herself. “I’m not going there for them, Mama. Pearline will be there. It’s just a lounge. I’m grown.”

Her mother didn’t argue. She just gave her that long, knowing look that seemed to see through the years and right back to the girl who used to sneak out late at night to meet Elijah behind the Greenhouse.

“Well,” her mother said finally, “if you’re going, fix your hair. And don’t let that boy’s dimples undo all your common sense.”

Annie laughed. “You talking about Stacks or Smoke?”

Her mother smirked. “Don’t play coy. We both know which one made you lose sleep.”

Annie shook her head and grabbed her purse. “Good night, Mama.”

“Be safe, baby.”

As Annie stepped outside into the warm Delta night, the weight of memories pressed on her chest, but so did the thrill of seeing Cypress Lounge not as a symbol of the past, but a place where she might reclaim a little piece of herself.

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The Cypress Lounge pulsed with rhythm, low and thick like molasses. Laughter drifted out with the smoke, but Elijah was known to most as Smoke leaned against the brick wall out back, cigarette glowing between his fingers. The night air was heavy with humidity, but the quiet outside was a relief from the blues buzzing inside.

Only Annie and the elders ever called him Elijah.

He hadn’t heard his name said like that in over a decade, and somehow it still felt like it belonged to her.

He took a long drag, exhaled slow.

“You thinkin’ about Annie?”

Stacks’ voice broke the silence like a gentle elbow to the ribs. His twin brother, same face but always a little brighter around the edges. Stacks wore the same face, but with mischief tucked into the corners of his grin. Always had. Even now, older, sharper, wearing a tailored vest and easy charm, he was still the same boy who cracked jokes in the middle of a storm.

Smoke didn’t answer right away.

Stacks didn’t need him to.

They’d always understood each other without saying much.

But the truth was, yes. He was thinking about Annie. Hell, she never really left his mind. Not when they left town, not during all those long years in the military, not once in the ten years since.

He hadn’t said goodbye.

He hadn’t sent a letter.

He just disappeared.

It was the one thing he regretted. Even now.

Stacks had written to her. Twice. Checked in. Explained what happened, best he could. But Smoke? He hadn’t had the guts. Not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too damn much.

And now she was back.

Of course she’d still be beautiful. Of course the moment he saw her it’d feel like the world flipped upside down.

Stacks knew the history. He’d known it even back then.

He’d had a crush on Annie when they were just kids. Everybody knew it. But even at ten years old, Stacks had seen it. That look in Annie’s eyes, the one she only gave Smoke. And for all his wild boy charm, Stacks never got jealous. He just smiled, teased them both, and let it be.

Because if there was one person in this world Stacks would never betray, it was his brother.

And Smoke knew that. Always had.

Growing up with their father, who was mean and drunk more often than sober, had taught him how to anticipate pain. He’d learned how to take a hit before it landed. Learned how to stand between Stacks and a swinging fist, how to bite his tongue and swallow his screams. His father never touched Stacks. Smoke made sure of that.

Maybe that’s why he clung to Annie so hard back then. She was soft in a world that was bruised. Her laugh made things feel normal. She believed in him when he barely believed in himself. She saw past the fists, past the scars, past the silence he wore like armor.

And God help him, she was still the only girl who ever made him smile without trying.

He hadn’t seen that smile in the mirror since he left.

He didn’t know what it meant now that she was back in town, or whether he even had the right to say her name anymore.

Smoke crushed the cigarette beneath his boot and rubbed a hand down his face, like maybe he could wipe the memories away. No luck. Annie lived behind his eyes now. Every part of this damn city held her name in it.

Stacks leaned beside him, silent now, eyes cast toward the alleyway like he was watching for ghosts.

“You ever think about what it’d be like if we never left?” Stacks finally asked, voice low, thoughtful.

Smoke didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched the shadows stretch across the bricks, thick like ink in the heat.

“All the time,” he muttered.

“You ever regret it?”

Smoke tilted his head back. “You don’t?”

Stacks shrugged. “Some days. But I think we needed to go. To survive. Pops was gettin’ worse. I don’t think we woulda made it much longer.”

Their father’s anger used to thunder through the walls late at night. A bottle always in his hand. Hands that were too quick to swing. Smoke had learned early to stay ten steps ahead of him, not just for his own sake—but to protect Stacks. If it wasn’t for Smoke, Stacks would’ve taken the worst of it. That’s just who their father was.

So they hustled. Ran the streets before their voices even cracked—fixing radios, selling bootleg tapes, flipping whatever they could get their hands on just to put food in the fridge. They had dreams, sure, but hunger and fists didn’t care about dreams. They cared about survival.

One day, Smoke decided enough was enough. The military wasn’t just an escape—it was the only road that looked like it led out.

But it cost him Annie.

“She was mad,” Stacks added, voice softer now. “She wrote me back once. Told me she was done waiting.”

“I deserved that.”

“She cried in that letter, Smoke. You know how hard it is for a girl like Annie to admit she cried? She trusted you. And you disappeared.”

Smoke clenched his jaw, pain flickering behind his eyes. “I was gonna write. Every day, I meant to. But I didn’t want to give her false hope. I thought if I just cut it, it’d be easier for her.”

“You were trying to protect her.”

“Yeah. And I ended up hurting her more.”

Stacks gave him a look, one brother to another. “You gonna let her keep thinkin’ you didn’t care?”

Smoke turned his head, eyes sharp. “No.”

“You still love her?”

Smoke didn’t even blink. “Always did.”

Stacks cracked a smile, no jealousy in it, just understanding. He had known, even as a kid, that Annie was always looking at Smoke—even when she was standing right beside him. And he couldn’t be mad. Not when Annie was the only thing that ever made his brother smile like that.

Then he clapped a hand on Smoke’s shoulder. “Then you better fix it, big bro. Before someone else steps in.”

Smoke stared into the night, jaw tight. “She ain’t the type you just win back with flowers and apologies.”

“Then don’t give her that. Give her truth.”

Stacks stepped away, voice trailing off. “We’ve got a club to run. And you’ve got a woman to face.”

Smoke stayed where he was, staring at the stars, the weight of memory flashing in his mind. It was a memory of when he first spoke to her.

Smoke wiped down the kitchen counter, scrubbing at the sticky ring left by a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey. Their father had stumbled in late the night before, angry and mean with nothing in his pockets but excuses and the sharp stench of regret. Now he was passed out in the back room, door wide open, mouth hanging slack.

Smoke tossed the rag in the sink and let out a breath. The walls felt like they were closing in.

“Yo, come on,” Stacks called from the hallway, already halfway out the door. “We hittin’ Mr. Gary’s before it gets packed.”

Smoke grabbed his white t- shirt, slid it on, and followed his twin into the humid Mississippi morning. The sun was bold overhead, baking the pavement, making everything shimmer like heat was trying to erase the whole town.

Stacks bounced down the sidewalk, full of energy, snapping his fingers and breaking into a loud, off-key rendition of the Ying Yang Twins.

“Wait 'til you see my—”

“Stacks,” Smoke warned, glancing around.

Stacks just laughed. “What? I’m sayin’. That song go hard. You just mad you ain’t got the vocals for it.”

Smoke shook his head, but there was a smirk trying to creep in. As usual, Stacks was showing out, dancing and spinning a coin between his fingers like the world had never hurt them.

They turned the corner near 12th and saw Mr. Gary’s ice cream parlor just ahead, the old hand-painted sign barely hanging on. The scent of sugar and waffle cones drifted out into the street like an invitation.

Stacks slowed. “Yo. Yo. Ain’t that the girl from math class?”

Smoke followed his gaze.

There she was.

Annie.

She was sitting outside the shop on the bench, one knee up, licking a grape popsicle like it owed her money. Two thick braids framed her face, and an old Saints jersey hung over her cutoffs. She looked like she belonged on a whole different planet—cool, unbothered, sharp-eyed.

“She new,” Smoke murmured. “Moved here from Louisiana.”

“She fine,” Stacks corrected, grinning. “Watch this.”

He sauntered ahead with all the charm he could muster, chest puffed like he was walking into a music video.

“Hey there,” he said smoothly, leaning against the bench. “You in our class, right? I’m Stacks. You probably noticed me already.”

Annie didn’t even blink. “Only thing I noticed was somebody always talkin’ when the teacher tryin’ to speak.”

Stacks froze, smile faltering for half a second. “Dang. That’s cold.”

“I’m from Louisiana. We say what we mean,” she said, then looked past him. “Your brother the one that don’t talk?”

Smoke, still a few steps back, raised a brow. “Sometimes.”

Annie gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Good. I like the quiet ones. They don’t waste your time with nonsense.”

Stacks laughed too loud. “See? She like you already.”

Annie cut him a look. “Boy, don’t flatter yourself. I ain’t said I liked either of y’all." Smoke walked up beside his brother, unsure of what to say.

Annie turned to him. “You got a name or you just go by ‘Shadow’?”

“Elijah,” he said, voice quiet. “But everybody call me Smoke.”

Annie licked her popsicle, then said, “Smoke, huh? You look like you don’t play around.”

Stacks jumped in. “He don’t. Always got that serious face like he solving algebra in his sleep.”

Annie stood up, brushing crumbs off her jersey, and walked between them like royalty on a mission.

“Well, nice meetin’ y’all. Don’t be weird next time.”

And just like that, she was gone, her braids bouncing with every step.

Stacks let out a low whistle. “Man... she really just...she got attitude.”

“She got presence,” Smoke corrected, still watching her walk away.

Stacks looked at his twin and shook his head. “You catchin’ feelings already?”

Smoke didn’t answer.

Stacks grinned. “Me too."

Elijah brung himself back to reality as he heard Stacks calling his name from the side door of the lounge. He wasn’t the boy Annie used to sneak off with to the greenhouse under moonlight. He was the man who left without a word, but he was ready to write his wrongs.

TAGLIST:

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @brattyfics @chrisevansmentee @margepimpson @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @bigjh @est1887 @tadjoa @thickmadame

#smoke elijah moore #elijah smoke moore #smoke x annie #sinners fanfiction #sinners #blackwriters #michael b jordan #wunmi mosaku #michael b jordan x black reader #michael b jordan x reader

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randomshyperson · 20 hours ago

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don't run away without me - wanda maximoff oneshots

summary: Wanda's neglect of everything around her, and constant abuse of the darkhold reaches a breaking point - you can't go on like this anymore. | warnings: mainly angst, hurt/comfort, they fight and actually resolve things through dialogue (crazy ik), mutual pining, fluff by the end (you may consider the canon of agatha all along for the "open" ending) | words: 2.588k

a/n-> A month ago i think @iguirisu request an angst one shot, and here it is, i randomly had inspiration for it today at work hope you like; I actually do miss writing about Wanda's depression state, or dark hold influence era.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The smell of coffee made you sigh and relax a little.

Natasha smiled affectionately - despite the obvious tiredness and sadness that your gaze hid, it was good to see you a little, even if minimally, more cheerful.

She took her place in the armchair, crossing her legs. In her hand, a hot cup of tea. You, on the other hand, left yours on the table, your fingers nervous.

"You took a while to visit, Y/N." Nat began, without waiting for you to make any excuse, she added; "I was hoping Wanda would come with you."

You look down, a sad laugh escaping you. "Yeah, I asked her to." You mumble, unable to hide your annoyance. “"Things have been... tricky. Ever since Westview. I thought we were doing well, as much as possible, but Wanda..." You sigh, forcing a smile at Nat. "She's been shouting me out."

Natasha takes a sip of her tea before commenting. "She knows none of us hold a grudge against Westview, right? Even though it's been, well, fucked up."

You laugh weakly at the comment, nodding. You take a sip of your drink too, enjoying the the taste of it.

Nat stretches out her legs and rests them on the coffee table. "Maybe I should visit."

You shake your head. "Better not, Nat." You say, and this surprises the redhead a little. You sigh. "It's her magic. She's been restless, and Wanda, well, she gets really nervous sometimes. I tried to talk to her about contacting that witch we faced in Westview, you know? Agatha Harkness. But she won't give in. And that damn book too. I may not be a witch, but I can sense something's wrong."

The redhead sighs. "Damn, Y/N, that sounds like... a lot."

You smile weakly. "Yeah, I know. But thanks for having me here, Nat. I guess I needed to get out of that cabin for a bit, to clear my head."

She shakes her head gently. "Please don't mention it. I think everything would be easier if we all still lived together in the compound. We'd end up making too much noise for Wanda to get stuck in books." Her joke makes you smile, a little nostalgic. Natasha looks at you curiously. "Are you sure you don't want me to visit? We can just, I don't know, talk. Spend some time together. I feel like I haven't seen you guys in... forever."

You smile sadly, looking away at the apartment. It’s exactly how you remember it, the same way Natasha welcomed you from Shield, a safe home for a defected black widow.

“It’s okay, this helps a lot.” You lean back against the couch, resting your back. “Can we talk about something else? Anything. Even if it’s a fantasy.”

She chuckled in confusion. "I don't understand, Y/N."

You sigh sadly. "I just miss you so much, Nat."

She frowns, adjusting her posture to move closer, taking the seat next to you. "I'm right here, sweetheart." She says, reaching for your hand. You smile, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

You lean in to hug her, and for a moment, the feeling is just as you remembered. But it doesn't last long, and with a sigh, you wake up.

The covers of your bed are tightly wrapped around you, but the cabin is cold and they do little to keep you warm. It's not just the weather, you know. Wanda is reading again, and the darkhold always makes sure that the cold feeling never goes away, even when you turn on the fireplace and sit on the rug in front of it.

You get up without rushing, there's nothing to rush about. You go to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, but maintain a relaxed appearance of someone who just woke up, which in the past Wanda would comment on how charming you are - but now, she doesn't even look up from her book when you leave the room.

You're not surprised that there's no coffee; if you don't make it, Wanda will just go on without eating, for hours and hours until her body protests with exhaustion.

It's not healthy, you can insist. But she won't give more than a grumble in return.

This morning you prepare pancakes, and some coffee. There are freshly picked apples that manage to bring a small smile to your face. You think it will be like any other morning, quiet and lonely, but Wanda's physical form appears to sit at the table with you.

"Hi, Y/N." It's almost painful actually. The distance and indifference have grown to the point that greeting you in the morning is almost like talking to a stranger.

Your back tenses before you glance at her from the corner of your eye and murmur a good morning, your attention returning to the preparation of the coffee.

"You woke up late." Your hand hesitates in cracking the eggs, but only for half a second. Wanda sighs. "I thought you weren't going to do that anymore."

You place the eggs on the tray, and move to find the flour. Your back is to Wanda. "I don't know what you're talking about." You mumble disinterestedly.

She laughs, humorless. "Come on, you were the one giving speeches about how wrong and dangerous that was, and now you're doing it almost every night."

You set the bowl down on the table with a little more force than necessary. "What is it now, Wanda?" You demand, irritated but more importantly, upset. Days goes by with Wanda not paying a single glance at you, and now she’s demanding answers. "Just say what you mean."

She rolls her eyes, and you swallow hard. She can be so… mean. Like Wanda never was. But then again, ever since Westview, and especially since the Darkhold, you've been discovering sides of her that you've never seen. You tried to stay positive about it, because well, relationships are hard. But it was all extremely tiring.

"I just think it's a little funny, when I asked to talk to my boys, you said it was wrong. That I was abusing your power, that it was dangerous to mess with these things, that speech about natural law and the veil of the dead, or whatever nonsense you made up."

"I didn't make it up-"

She interrupts you: "But when it's about you visiting Natasha every night, then it's okay?"

You laugh humorlessly. "Because it's me! Because I hold the connection, because it's my power! I've explained to you this a hundred times, but you don't want to accept it." She huffs, standing up, ready to leave the room, the conversation, and that makes you laugh again. "Go ahead, just run away again."

She looks at you with irritation: "Me? You're the one who's running away, Y/N! Every night to visit our dead friend!"

You have to laugh because honestly this has to be a joke. Wanda swallows hard at the sound. "Wanda, you're not even here." You gesture to the other room where her astral projection is reading the darkhold, and she turns her face away, almost embarrassed. You run a hand over yours, sighing. Exhausted. "This is all bullshit. I don't even know what I'm doing here."

You explode. "She talks to me!" And this takes Wanda by surprise, she looks at you with a frown, and you hold back the tears that threaten to fall. "A change of scenery for a change. "

"I talk to you."

She looks at you as if you've been slapped, in a way, you're almost happy to have some reaction.

"You said you didn't want to leave me alone."

You frown, and hold her gaze, even though you can't hold back the tears anymore. "And in return, you barely look at me."

"Y/N, that's not true. We were ready to have breakfast-" She tries to get closer, to touch you, but you pull away, laughing humorlessly, gesturing nervously to the kitchen.

"Breakfast? Wanda, none of this is real!" You scoff, gesturing around. "This farm, the food, even the fucking animals, you created everything with your magic. All of this is a lie."

"Don't say that."

But you get closer, breathless with emotion, your hands find her face, and Wanda resists the urge to lean into the touch, her gaze conflicted as if she were also resisting something else, something stronger and deeper.

"I'm real, Wanda. And I'm right here. Begging you to let me in." You confess, and some of her certainty breaks. "But you push me away. And ignore me for days, limiting me to a ghost of you."

She touches your forearms. "I know you don't like it, but astral projection allows me to study without leaving you alone and-" She tries, but you shake your head, cutting her off.

"Enough, I don't want to hear the same excuses all over again." You walk away, a sad smile on your face. "I think I should just go."

Wanda tries to contain her emotion, but she's crying the next minute. "If that's what you want, I won't stop you."

You laugh sadly. "What I want. Funny." You retort, walking around her to pack, and Wanda swallows hard. It takes a moment, but she finally follows you to the room, where you search for the few belongings you brought, which weren't fabrications of chaos magic. She doesn't even realize she's forced back her astral projection until she sees the darhold floating alone, almost begging to be read again.

"So that 's it? Are you really just going to leave me alone?"

You don't look at her. "Clearly that's what you want, Wanda. Enjoy your reading."

But she stands in front of the door, blocking your way. You sigh impatiently, but she holds her position. "And what do you want?"

You hesitate, and Wanda tilts her head, her eyes turning red. You snort in protest at the attempt of mind reading. "Unbelievable." You mumble in disappointment, but there's a bump when you try to cross because Wanda won't step aside. "Come on, you said you wouldn't stop me."

"Why did you come with me in the first place?" She demands to know then, her gaze almost pleading, and that makes you hesitate, take a step back.

"Wanda."

"Tell me." She says, and you swallow hard, looking away at the floor. She laughs humorlessly. "Fine, and then you say I don't talk to you."

She steps aside, turning her back to you to walk down the hallway again, and you sigh, thinking fuck it. Things can't get any worse than they are now.

"I'm in love with you."

It's the first time you've said it out loud, admitted it to yourself, actually. Wanda frowns at you, and then laughs briefly and incredulously.

"Right." She mumbles, and you take a step toward her.

"I'm serious."

Wanda doesn't flinch. "Well, I don't believe you."

It's your turn to frown, confused and a little embarrassed, as you watch Wanda sigh and walk over to the couch, where she sits. You sigh too before entering the living room again, the bag of clothes loosely in your hand. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you don't believe? This is just a fact, not something to argue about."

But the redhead shakes her head. "That's ridiculous, Y/N. You're not in love with me." You open your mouth to protest, but she keeps talking. "First of all, you never said anything. You didn't even think." She looks at you with a certain certainty that makes you swallow hard. That nosy witch and that bad habit of looking into people's minds. "Second, you're.. off limits. You're Nat' s. You always have been and always will. I mean you visit her even after death now."

You grimace, and then you finally understand what Wanda is really saying. "Wanda, I," You begin, dropping your backpack on one of the armchairs and approaching where she is, kneeling down to her level. "Natasha and I broke up during the blip. I told you that. We became friends, just friends, over time. I’ve been visiting her because I was feeling lonely, and I missed having a friend to talk to." Wanda looks away, and you try to follow her gaze, your hand reaching for hers in your lap. "And yes, about the first thing, you're right. I'd never thought about it. It took me a while to understand, to realize. I guess I was trying to protect myself."

She looks at you with some uncertainty. "From me?"

You laugh shortly, shaking your head immediately. "Oh, no, Wanda, not from you." You clarify quickly. "I was afraid of getting my heart broken, you know? You had someone. And well, Natasha was my first love. And it was mutual. I didn't know how to deal with rejection, with the possibility of well, of living through this right now. It's been hard, but I'll survive."

But Wanda swallows hard, her cheeks gaining a new color. "But I... didn't reject you."

You laugh awkwardly. "It's okay, I don't need you to let me down slowly, the shock and silence are enough for me to get the message." You joke, but when you make a move to stand up, Wanda tightens her grip on your hand, keeping you in place.

"You just caught me by surprise." She murmurs and it's the only thing she says before advancing on you, a firm kiss on your lips. She barely lets you get used to the feeling - pulling away immediately, her brow furrowed in conflict. "Fuck, don't show me that."

"I didn't do anything-"

"It's not you!" She snaps, her eyes red. Wanda suddenly becomes agitated, standing up, her hands on her head for a moment. You worry, and when you try to touch her, she suddenly grabs you, her arms around you, her face hidden in your chest. She takes a deep breath, as if trying to wake herself up to this moment. "Please, don't leave me alone with it."

You understand, the book, which continues to vibrate in the next room, waiting, demanding a reader.

One of your hands goes to Wanda's head, and the other to her back, trying to calm her down.

"I'll stay with you, Wands." You say, swallowing hard afterwards. "But on one condition." She breaks the hug only to look at you. You sigh. "We'll ask for help."

"What? No-"

"I'm serious." You interrupt. "If not Agatha Harkness, it will be someone from Kamar Taj, like Doctor Strange. You need help, Wanda. You don't sleep, you barely eat. You're paranoid and restless. You're hurting yourself, and I'm not going to stand by and watch."

Wanda sighs tiredly, and buries her face in your chest again, nodding softly. Though the next moment, she mumbles, “Strange won’t help. Sorcerers don’t… help witches.”

You kiss the top of her head. “Agatha Harkness then.”

The redhead groans in protest. "I don't trust her." But you hug her a little tighter.

"I know, darling, me either." You whisper. "But who knows what Westview has in store for us?"

Wanda hides her warm face deeper inside the hug. "I like it when you call me that."

It's your turn to blush. "Lucky for you, I have an endless list of pet names for you, Miss Magic Fingers." She giggles, trying to tickle you so you'll let her go, but the break only makes you laugh and shower her face with kisses.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots

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radioactive-alien-thing · 11 hours ago

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Azuretime x reader polygamous please! We need more of them frfr

I'm not sure about the specific plots, but maybe when Azure came out as a killer for the first time and they all reunited?

You can choose whether or not reader was also in the cult. But they prooooobably didn't know about the sacrifice? Maybe they might've also almost got sacrificed, but Two time failed and they got Forsaken™ first?

Yeah, that's about it. I think. I forgot to say when I said we need more Azuretime x reader, I meant angst 😈😈 /hj

The relationship is gonna so strained, but the dynamic would be kind of interesting?

Take your time with the requests! Your health and happiness is the first priority!

❤️❤️❤️❤️ /Platonic

HAAAIIII omgosh sorry this took so long!!! and sorry if it’s. not the best!!! i hardly write angsty so thank you for this practice!!! hope u enjoy regardless<3

azure x two time x reader - unspoken confessions

not much really concerns you these days. after numerous weeks(?) of being stuck in a eerily cold & horrific realm, as if you were a lab rat in a cage, putting on a show for some mysterious ‘spectre’, you’ve pretty much gotten used to it.

of course, you still prayed to the Spawn every day, clinging to your faith in rough times like these. and you prayed for your partners, too- wherever they were. if they were even safe. at least they didn’t have to suffer in this place, wherever you were… could be hell, could be purgatory. you weren’t all too sure.

but it didn’t take long for things to shift and you quickly regretted ever feeling hopeful. eventually, two time ended up in the same realm as you, though something about them was off. you noticed it right away, the air of tension, the defensive glint in their eyes. they felt distant, hesitant. when you reached out for a hug, relieved to see one of your partners after convincing yourself you never would again, they flinched.

that’s fine, though. that’s absolutely okay, you told yourself. two time must be incredibly overwhelmed. confused, maybe even scared. after all, there was only one way to end up here, and it wasn’t exactly by natural fate. you didn’t pry, they didn’t want to talk about it. but when you finally mentioned your attacker fleeing and leaving you to bleed out, a small frown flickered across their face. just for a moment, you thought you saw something, some hint of emotion. you couldn’t tell if it was concern… or maybe regret?

so you brought up your second biggest concern, a bit of anxiety settling in. azure. what about azure? was he okay? at the mention of his name, two time slightly stiffened, but their eyes continue to hold that same manic look, tense as if they were holding something back.

you barely got an answer. it hurt. you needed to know. but every time you tried to learn more, two time redirected the discussion back to the Spawn, always circling back to the one thing they were utterly obsessed with. and though you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, praise be to the Spawn, you were starting to grow agitated.

eventually you ended up in a match together, forming a tiny pact to watch each other’s backs. you noticed the spectre had let them keep their dagger, though you didn’t ask why. a weapon’s a weapon, and it’s pretty useful in this case. maybe it didn’t mean anything.

you’ve already repaired a few generators, but the lack of a killer was making you increasingly anxious. where the hell were they? did taph blow them up already? where was all the usual bloodshed? something was off.

“two time? two time?” you call out, presuming they had ditched you. so much for loyalty. you even made a mental note to give them absolute hell for it later, but the sight you walked into stopped you cold.

you initially didn’t want to believe it, but you couldn’t deny it for long. it was azure, but not the one you remembered. they were different- stronger, more intense. scarier. it didn’t take long for it to click. they were the killer.

azure’s eyes look almost regretful, maybe even sad, as their hands tighten around two time’s neck, choking the other cultist on the ground. the sight hit you like a truck and left your head reeling. instinct took over and you lunged forward, trying to pull them apart. everything went all blurry for a moment. azure’s eyes widened when he saw you, filled with a conflicted emotion that didn’t match his actions. it was almost like he wasn’t in control at all.

you did successfully manage to shove them apart. two time weakly crawled away, gasping for air. azure just stood still, shaking, hands twitching.

your eyes drift over to the small wound you left on azure’s cheek while trying to save two time. slowly, he reached up to graze it. every little move was tense.

without a word, azure turned sharply and forced himself to trudge away, footsteps unsteady. you didn’t try calling out to him. he didn’t bother looking back. all you could do was stare at the empty spot where he once stood, his silence louder than any words he could’ve left.

#forsaken #forsaken x reader #azure forsaken #two time forsaken #two time x reader #azure x reader #azure x reader x two time

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everythingmp3 · 2 days ago

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being farmer!Van’s younger lover - headcanons 𐙚 🌾

I couldnt get the idea of her as a farmer out of my head, so here are all the thoughts I had while imagining, mostly what she’d be like with a lover! I dont know much about the actual life of a farmer, so I kept her activities rather vague, it’s more about the vibe and the fantasy of it all, you get the idea <3 hope u enjoy

warnings: the second half of this is nsfw! some very brief mentions of substance abuse/addiction

her backstory:

(feel free to skip this intro if you just want the main plot)

she moved to NYC after high school, broke, not in college, unsure what to do but too stubborn to give up on her dream to live in the city she had idealized since she childhood, so she fought and bled for her right to stay, worked many bone-crushing jobs, got into friend groups with people who were also just trying to survive, which worked out in her favor for a while, but. eventually she got into the wrong kind of drugs and fell off, partying instead of working, getting fired from one job after the other, barely scraping by, somehow cheating her way out of ruin again and again, sleeping on friends couches, until she was in her mid-twenties and couldnt take it anymore, physically, spiritually, so she and her girl at the time packed their things and moved the country-side in the south, dreaming of a quiet, normal, mundane life, hoping and praying for some respite

at first, they managed, but the relationship was crumbling due to Vans refusal to address her substance abuse issues and her overall disregard for her health, her hermit lifestyle of only going to work so she could come back home and crash, so eventually they broke up, dramatically so, her ex screaming at her that she had to get her shit together or she’d die before hitting 30, which did wake her up - it hurt like hell but she knew it was true - Van was tired of everything, people, cities, even small towns, she didnt wanna see or talk to anyone, so she looked for jobs that would allow her to shut down and be quiet, which she found: an older couple, in their 50s, was looking for help at their farm nearby, in exchange for a spare room, so it was settled: she packed a few things and showed up at their door ready to leave her entire life behind and just be a pair of helping hands

she got lucky. the man and woman who ran the farm - which would be hers one day - immediately showed her a parental kind of tough love when they realized how desperately Van needed help and guidance, they didnt make her talk about it, but they could tell that she was recovering from some heavy shit, so they gave her a very clear schedule and made her stick to it, even when she was tired or grumpy, they gave her clear instructions and made her work with the animals a lot because they knew the effect that kind of contact can have on a suffering person

sure enough, Van blossomed after an initial period of disciplining her body, eating better, and growing stronger each day, it took a good amount of sweat and tears to settle in, but after a few weeks she adjusted and found out that she was much better at physical labor than she´d assumed, her stubborn streak came in handy, she pushed and pushed herself until the tasks came more easily to her. she also went to AA meetings in the area on and off, whenever she felt like she needed some extra help to stay sober

once the couple both neared their mid 60s, they were so close to Van that leaving the farm in her hands only felt natural, they didnt have any children of their own, so she was the closest thing to a daughter they ever got and trusted her to take care of their beloved spot of land well and to eventually leave it to someone else whod keep that tradition up as well (at first she felt unworthy, incapable, but they convinced her and urged her to do whatever she pleased with her little spot in the world, expressing how grateful they were for the years shed spent with them, having given them a chance to feel like someones parents later in life)

Van decided to work with groups that use animal therapy to help people who are in a tough spot in one way or another, people in rehab or people who deal with either mental or physical pain that might be eased for while by having close contact to horses - she knows first-hand what caring for animals can do for a person who is struggling with self-worth, shame, or chronic pain, so she always makes a point of inviting those groups to her farm, making it a safe haven in a way, she also lets riding instructors teach their classes there

she makes money by letting people keep their horses in the stables, taking care of them, so people can come by whenever they want to ride them, she also sells some of her produce to surrounding farmers markets, its not a ton of money but more than enough to get by and live a comfortable life

how you started dating

your college town is near her farm and you decided to stay there during summer because the season is beautiful out there and its enough for you to back to your hometown for a few weeks during August before the next semester starts

one day you were a bit reckless and walked out further beyond the town limits than you usually did because the weather was so nice and you wanted to see some some pretty fields, but you underestimated the heat and had to take a break somewhere because you were afraid you might pass out and couldnt just turn around and walk all the way back

the tree you decided to take shelter under for a moment was right at the entrance of Vans farm and she come out to check on you because she saw you sitting there in the midday heat and got worried that something was wrong or that someone might have ditched you by the side of the road, since she wasnt used to having strangers wandering around out there

you were a bit embarrassed at first when she she said "hey there, you okay?" but you she was sweet from the get-go, joking around a bit, asking you what on earth made you come out there in that intense weather, gently chastising you for your lack of drinks and snacks, she ended up urging you to come inside and rest and cool down, to eat and drink something so you could regain your strength before going back home

you got along immediately, it took less than a few minutes for you to talk about anything and everything as she prepared some iced coffee, iced tea, and fresh blueberry pancakes for you - you told her again and again that she was being way too nice but Van insisted and told you that she spent more than enough time on her own, so once you werent hungry or thirsty anymore and seemed more lively again, she gave you a tour of and introduced you to her cats which was a sure way to get you to stay for longer (maybe that was calculated on her part)

after a while of you laughing and enjoying your time together, she offered to drive you back to your place and gave you a little pot of homemade jam to try as a parting gift, a raspberry vanilla mix that tasted divine and was your breakfast of choice for the coming days. as you said goodbye that night in the car parked outside your house she said "come by whenever you want, really, you dont even have to ring, just walk around to the porch and I will be around somewhere" which felt like flirting, not just southern hospitality, so you promised that you would take her up on it, your skin tingling where her arms rested when you said goodbye, her voice a bit strained when she told you goodbye, as if she was flustered from embracing someone that way, a sign that it had been a while maybe, a sudden rush of hope on your part that she wasnt seeing anyone, that you werent delusional to think that she might have been less friendly with strangers who didnt intrigue her, who werent as easy on the eyes to her..

she’d confess to you a while later that she didnt give you her number or asked for yours because she knew that shes a horrible texter and enjoyed the idea of being surprised by another visit by you, she also liked the vibe of leaving the ball entirely in your court, the fact that she had no way of reaching out to you and had to trust that you would keep your connection going (this same energy is palpable whenever she waits for you to come and touch her, she loves pushing your patience to make you initiate intimacy, even when its just a hug, thats her preferred way of teasing)

for the next few days you couldnt get her out of your head and kept clinging to the memory of how hot shed looked: dressed in a white tank-top and jeans that were cut off at the knee, working boots and white socks, her bronzed heavily freckles skin glowing in the midday sun, just like her wavy hair that seemed to burn like flames in that light, her cheeks and lips rosy from the heat, her voice raspy and low, her calves toned, just like her shoulders and arms... you remembered how your knees had touched when you sat outside on the steps together for a moment, how your fingers had brushed when shed handed you a glass, how shed looked at you while you ate the food shed made you, attentive, curious, and intense, like she was holding something back, the same way you had been. it was torture. you couldnt stop obsessing over every little look shed given you, everything shed said, reading into all of it until you were certain you werent just imagining the instant chemistry

after a few days of holding back, you couldnt wait any longer and went back to her place, and just as you stepped into her house it started thundering and pouring rain, which immediately made the atmosphere intimate and private as she lit some candles and put on all the warm orange tinted lamps to offer a contrast to the dark storm outside - you played it cool at first, but it was clear that you hadnt just come back for no reason, and the tension made both of you a little nervous at first, thrilled too though, pleased by the sense of "she feels the same way, doesnt she?"

one thing lead to another, some jokes at first, then more earnest words, you confessing "I thought of you a lot the past few days, you were so sweet to me" her brushing it off "basic decency" you caving and coming to sit next to her, a pleading look on your face, a bit of fear on hers, held breaths, beating hearts, soft eyes, you taking the leap, kissing her eagerly until she gently broke it and needed a second to breathe, to calm her burning nerves, so you told her to keep touching you, to just keep her hands on you, so she did, grabbing at you until she was ready to continue, dying to - a switch flipped in her when she felt you going slack in her embrace, sighing from the feel of her palms on your back, your arms, your face, a bruising kiss from her that quickly turned into more and more and until your clothes were scattered next to the couch and the rain kept clashing against the windows as you got lost in each other, kissing and touching and grinding up against each other, making each other come just from a few touches, using your burst of passion and intense sensitivity to each others presence to keep going and going, finally ending up in her bed, making out for ages, taking turns making each other moan and surrender

that night you slept over and the next morning you laughed about how cliché it was for her to invite you to move in for the summer before even having gone on a proper date, but! you couldnt have cared less, you were so overjoyed at the idea, both of you agreeing that it would be unnecessary to make you take the drive over to her place every day (she had no idea what got into her when she just straight up asked you if you wanted her to help you get some of your stuff so you could stay with her as long as you wanted because it had been so long since shed: a) had anything romantic going on b) had sex with someone and c) didnt shudder at the idea of sharing her space with a lover, quite the opposite, that first morning she woke up to the sight of you there in her bed, all peaceful and content and warm to the touch, she wondered how shed gone all those years without it

sfw

Van quickly comes to love the feeling of never knowing when she might turn a corner and see you laying in the sun on a blanket, in your bikini or underwear, tanning, or reading, or napping - she always stops in her tracks and takes a moment to just look at you while youre blissfully unaware, until the urge to touch takes over - unlike others, shed never think its funny to startle you by splashing water on you or taking your headphones off or anything, shes as gentle as possible, always, either lowering herself until she can press a soft kiss to your back, or picking a flower to lightly sweep over your arm <3 you usually pull her down onto the blanket and get all over her to keep her from walking away and continuing her work, which shes helpless against, shes never denied you, not once, always caving

loveees seeing you in her clothes! when you put a flannel of hers over your shoulders if it gets a bit chilly at night, or when you jokingly try on her working boots, she lets you steal whatever you want from her wardrobe and has a particular thing for seeing you in jeans of hers that are a bit too lose on you because theyre worn out, when you kneel down and she can see your underwear peeking out at the top... you wont stay in those jeans for too long, lets put it that way.

shes always been good about sun screen, its the one self-care aspect she never abandoned even during her worst times, but! she usually never splurged on the expensive kind, she used generic cheap sun screen until you started dating and you gave her some fancier kind, selfishly picking a scented one, a mix of vanilla and coconut because you knew it would mix very well with her sweat while working and the tabacco when she smokes - you also help her apply it, its ritual she came to cherish deeply, the way you carefully apply it not just on her face and arms but where she cant reach, always savoring the feeling of your palms massaging the creme into her back because she used to have to bend herself herself into a pretzel to apply it to her shoulder blades and the surrounding area (you dont care that it tastes bitter when you kiss her on her freshly lotioned nose <3)

when Ethel Cain said "he looks like he works with his hands and smells like Marlboro Reds" yeah thats her… the cigs are her little vice that she allows herself to keep, she doesn’t chain smoke, it’s more of a relaxation thing, usually not more than two a day, sometimes she also goes a while without any, and you dont convince her to quit because she looks too hot smoking 💘 you love those warm late nights where you sit on the porch together, your legs on her lap, her free hand massaging you as she stares off into the distance and smokes (you also got her nice lighter at the thrift store, gold with an etching of a pin-up model, it was more of a joke but she loves it)

for obvious reasons she much prefers cats over dogs and when you started dating one of her cats was heavily pregnant, so you ended up staying in the barn with her for an entire night when the cat gave birth to make sure it all went well, to see that the kittens were all healthy, and it made her fall for you even more, the care and adoration with which you handled the little babies and soothed the mother after she gave birth to all three of them, she also let you pick the names <3 you love to joke by saying "she’s stealing my spot" whenever one of the kittens crawls up onto her chest

Van always relies on her lovers to braid her hair! whenever shes single, she just accepts the fact that her hair wont be braided until someone does it for her again, she likes being incompetent that way, she mentioned it off-handedly that she cant braid her hair at her grown age, and you took the bait immediately, offering to style it any way she wants, a smug grin on her face when you first gently parted her hair into three even strands and gave her exactly what she wanted, that soothing feeling of having her love rake her fingers through her hair, her favorite part is when youre done fuss with her front pieces a bit to make it look more effortless and natural, shes pliant as hell, lets you do whatever you want (her mommy issues havent gone away, even in her forties it does make her blush when she sits between your legs and feels you tighten her braid the way a mother might)

speaking of hair: she doesnt trust hair dressers with her hair at all because shes way too scared that theyll take off too much or give her weird layers, so she usually did an okay job cutting her own split-ends, but you decided to buy actual hair-cutting scissors and looked up a few tutorials until you felt prepared enough and gave her a nice trim, taking about half an hour to really make sure all the strands flow nicely together, and she loves it, shes gone so long without getting her hair cut by someone else that it makes the whole thing feel super intimate - also, she loves that you picked up on the fact that her hair is the one and only aspect about her appearance where she embraces a kind of femininity, its her one point of true vanity, and you taking care of it fore her is very pleasing to Van as someone who knows that people usually focus on her more masculine traits when they call her hot, warms her heart that you take care of her hair like its your own :)

youll often cut up some fruit for her or bring her a bottle of cold water when shes been out in the soon for a little too long, its a simple thing but she remembers how it was to never have anyone do those little things for her, its special for her and makes the work feel a little easier on her not-super-young bones <3

she has a medium sized tattoo on her left hipbone that she got in her 20s and for the longest time she hated it because she didnt have enough money back then to get it done by an actually good artist, so the lines are kinda faded over time, but.. once you started dating, she realized how hot you think its looks, so she started using it to tease you, relentlessly, stretching her arms over her head on purpose so her shirt rides up and you can see the top of the tattoo peeking out above her waistband, more times than not youll get handsy with her and pay her back for tempting you (as if that wasnt her goal all along)

for a long time her polaroid camera just collected dust but one day she got the urge to take pictures of you around the farm, which started out innocent at first (you caressing the horses, laying in the sun, leaning against the fence, picking berries) but it quickly turned more and more erotic, you shed your clothes, she took some pics of you in your underwear, you convinced her to caress your face and put her thumb in your mouth while taking a picture of that, which got her good, so eventually you abandoned all shame and told her to get some milk so she could pour it in your open mouth and over your chest and take a picture of that, you in the grass.. kneeling... eyes closed.. mouth open.. milk dripping down your chin... shameless vulgarity, but so incredibly hot to her that she ended up putting the camera down and licking you clean. both of you laughing in the grass afterwards once you realized what you just did (she keeps a few of those pictures on her wallet, old fashioned romance is her thing sometimes)

she taught you how to properly ride a horse and definitely almost had a heart attack the first few times your horse picked up the pace, she always makes sure youre safe - you sometimes take the horses to a nearby forest and leisurely ride through it, slowly, chatting and laughing and holding hands whenever your horses are close enough to do that (you also fore sureee convince her to take you out on her horse sometimes, you love holding onto her waist and resting your head on her back)

her farm is so lush and rich in color during spring and early summer!💐 flowers of all kinds bloom all over the place, and before you were dating she never bothered to pick some of them for inside decor, felt kinda silly to her as the only one living in her house, she was never the type to play homemaker just for the sake of it, but you lovee picking little bouquets for her, you always take note of which flowers she points at and calls pretty, so next time you gather more of that kind, it became a sweet ritual for you to put little vases with all kinds of wildflowers around the house and she for sure dried the first bouquet you ever made for her and keeps it on her dresser or pressed in a book <3

one of your favorite things to do with her is to go out for a big dinner after shes been working hard all day! shell be starving by that time, so nothing feels better to her than sitting down at her favorite sandwich shop or restaurant or fast food chain and devouring a greasy salty comfort meal - I think she fucks with veggie burgers when theyre drenched in good sauce, pizza with a good amount of toppings, spicy too, I think shed dip everything in hot sauce, shed also love mexican food I think like a good burrito with a bunch of fresh ingredients and chips and salsa on the side, anything thats savory and mixes a bunch of textures! you dont do it too often because she does try to eat rather healthy but once or twice a week you both need it and cherish it, you will sit there for a while just eating and chatting and sharing a bunch of side dishes, people watching or gossiping, her giving you inside scoop when she sees a familiar face, making small talk here and there while referring to you as her "friend" even though nobodys naive enough to believe that thats all you are, still, she likes being coy about it

you realize that all the people who own her favorite spots know and love her, so they give her bigger servings and drinks on the house, which you benefit from as well ;)

if you have a difficult relationship with food or simply dont take good enough care of yourself diet wise, thats gonna be taken care of with her, always - Van prides herself on her harvest of fruits and veggies, the time and care she puts in them each season, she collects fresh eggs from her chickens, bakes her own bread, makes a beautiful summer salad that she perfected over the years with some strawberry slices and honey vinegar dressing and a bunch of different greens and cucumber to make it fresh and delicious, among other recipes that she makes you try and approve of - you eat wellll and healthy with her, and you take up baking because you wanna repay her for her cooking and know that she has a sweet tooth! she also keeps fresh home-made iced tea and a bunch of other beverages that you both enjoy in the fridge at all times when its hot and keeps reminding you to drink, you wont be dehydrated on her watch!

when she was younger it was a sign of luxury to her when she was over at a friends house and their family had Ben and Jerrys ice cream instead of the no-name brands, so as an adult she likes buying all those little things that used to seem expensive to her, and you two sometimes share a pot on particularly hot days, trying all the flavors and rating them, you kept a sheet with the scores, and its a thing she looks look forward to, going to the store and picking your flavor for the night <3 (she’s partial to anything with caramel and doesnt really care much for the ones that are heavy on the chocolate, prefers the creamy vanilla bases ones, she also always lets you scoop out the last few bites, whereas you let her have the first few spoonfuls (you also like to fuck with her by kissing her while you still have some ice cream in your mouth and transfer it onto her tongue with a sloppy kiss, she pretends its nasty but shes turned on by it, every time)

she likes to pretend shes a grumpy anti-tech country woman who hates all things pop culture but she does love that youre teaching her things here and there about whats going on, shes been so out of touch with everything that its fun for her to have someone there who gets a kick out of trying to explain a new slang term to her or a trend thats happening on social media or gossip about celebrities (you sometimes jokingly speak in a way that sounds obnoxious and like something a teenager on tiktok would say just to watch her give you a look of utter confusion and disbelief, like telling her that she has "rizz" when she says something smooth, laughing when she says "jesus christ do I even wanna know what that means...")

even though shes worked with animals for years and years it never got easier for her to watch any of them suffer, shes a huge softie! none of them are "just" animals to her, ever, doesnt matter if its a horse or a cow or a chicken or animals that arent "hers" but live around the farm like little mice or birds, she always feels her heart shatter when one of the animals gets sick or needs medicine or a visit from the vet, she keeps it together on the outside but youve consoled her a few times when she was scared that an animal might not make it or be in too much pain - she also still tears up whenever she talks about her cat who passed away five years ago, she still misses her sometimes and youre the first person shes shared that grief with bc she feels safe with you, its nice for her not to shed her tears in the dark by herself when shes scared of a possible loss or feels haunted by yelps that a sick animal made, you always reassure her that shes doing her best and that any animal would be lucky to end up there with her <3

loves to make you do little physical tasks with her so she can watch you struggle with something thats muscle memory for her, its very amusing to her when you get pissed off and start groaning and eventually give up and tell her to do it by herself because youre clearly too slow with it, shell say things like "come on, lets put those young bones to good use" and gesture at you to follow her and you always act like a petulant child even though you clearly love being bosses around by her and watching her be much better at whatever it is that youre doing together, sometimes youll just sit and blatantly stare at her while shes doing strenuous work so you can watch her break a sweat and jokingly cat-call her

she keeps to herself but she built strong connections with a good amount of people in the area over the years, so shes never truly isolated or unable to require help when she needs, people know they can count on her and that shes about as reliable as they come, so she often comes home with a basket of fresh peaches or a few bottles of freshly made syrup or coffee grounds because people like her and treat her like a daughter/sister/friend depending on how old they are (I like to think theres a mutual aid sentiment that she sticks to, shell give money where she can to those who need it because theyve also helped her out before)

on that note, she is usually way too stubborn to ask for support but if you get sick, she calls some people who can help her around the farm, so she has the time to tend to you and doesnt have to leave you alone in bed all day <3

you offer her massages whenever she seems a bit tense or worn out, sometimes youll just come up behind her and start massaging her neck and shell say "baby im okay really" at first, but then audibly gasp as you knead away some tension, melting under your touch and making little "hmm" sounds

she loves ending her day by sitting on the couch with you and watching a show or a film together while snuggling, she used to spend all of her nights alone, so the simple act of eating dinner together and then watching something with you is a luxury to her that she savors every time <3

you convince her to venture out a bit more than she usually did, so you end up taking little trips to more urban cities nearby (ones that are 1-3 hours away) and have fun days there, trying out cafes and restaurants, browsing through stores, getting some clothes (you know she likes brands like Carharrt and splurge on stuff here), getting drinks if you stay until nightfall, watching movies at the cinema, or just walking around and seeing where the day takes you

during the road trips you are in charge of the aux because her music is too depressing for summer days.. she has no idea how to curate a playlist thats lighthearted and fun, so she leaves it to you (I can see her enjoying it when you blast like an Oasis song that she remembers from her youth and make her sing along to it because you know damn well she remembers the lyrics)

also! you love to fuck with her by putting the most vulgar rap you can find on full volume, blasting lyrics that make her look at you in shock while asking “is this what you fucking listen to?? really?" only half-serious about it, you catch her smiling when shes imagining herself in the place of the guy saying out of pocket shit about his girl

you like to do the laundry because you never got to hang it up to dry in a beautiful spot of land like that before - it feels cinematic to you in a way when youre standing there clipping your shirts to the clothesline with the wind blowing in your hair and the horses nearby, but! Van does the laundry that has to be hand-washed, she likes the attentive act of getting out all the little stains in clothes that are too delicate for the washing machine, she has her tricks to get even the most annoying red sauce stains out, and she also has a thing for washing your underwear, something about washing her lovers intimate clothes is very romantic to her, so you let her do it even though you were a bit embarrassed about it at first

regardless of your usual style you started dressing a bit more "country" to fit her vibe and it’s hot to her - she likes when you thrift stuff like white linen dresses or shorts, cowboy boots, belts with bigger brass buckles, you always ask her for her opinion and maybe drag her to the store with you so she can decide what you try out next (she’d make you get a skimpy bikini for lake days, for sure, you’d be like "this is too much...." and she’d just say "not in my eyes" and buy it for you)

loveees to share all of her knowledge with you but in a teasing way, she likes to play teacher and make you memorize the names of plants and flowers, so she can randomly point at one and ask "whats that one called again, hm?" fully aware that you forgot, repeating it to you and asking again the next day, which makes you shove her and roll your eyes but shell press for an answer like "I didnt hear you baby"

you introduce her to the app that can identify all kinds of bird calls and she gets over her skepticism really fast and becomes obsessed with it, whenever youre in the forest by the lake or just out in nature and she hears an unfamiliar call she gets so thrilled when the app shows her a picture of the bird shes hearing, and she definitely makes you remember the names of her favorite birds and gets offended when you forget them, drilling you like a teacher until theyre seared into your brain

she knows from her own experience that the best way to beat a depressive mood is to get outside and find something to do, so whenever she can tell that youre feeling a bit off or blue she makes you follow her somewhere so she can try and cheer you up :) one afternoon when you were kinda sad she took you cherry-picking and lifted you up on her shoulders so you could reach all the cherries further up and your mood switched completely without you even being conscious of it, she’s great at coaxing joy out of you whenever you need it

in general you felt your nervous system recover from any stress you mightve dealt with before during those days where your senses were never overstimulated by too much noise or too many people around or a lack of access to fresh air and pretty nature, she never outright said it but she definitely kept her eye on you and made sure you felt better than you did when shed first met you, even just sitting in the grass and feeling the earth beneath you and hearing the natural noise of the farm for a few minutes often helps you unwind and relax 🕊️

you know from what she told you about her past that she never got to be carefree as a kid/teenager, that she had to grow up way too fast, so you make her do little things with you that girls might do at sleepovers, like putting on face masks or playing online games or buying little arts and crafts kits to make each other keychains and! you convince her to get one of the mystery boxes with little figurines in them like those sylvanian family animals, which you end up keeping on the windows isle, adding to them whenever you indulge in the frivolous joy of ripping open a package without knowing which little creature youll get (shes the type to put on a poker-face or make sarcastic remarks during the whole thing to disguise how much fun shes actually having)

master of home remedies! whether its a rash or a burn or a cut, she knows exactly what salve or creme to apply, she has a bunch of teas for any kind of ailment, stomach pain, period cramps, headaches, she knows how to dress any kind of wound (because shes had to patch herself up, many times) so any kind of pain youre in, shes gonna do her very best to relieve you of it (not just by giving you head, although thats always worth a try, to her)

shes somehow alwaaays chewing on something, either gum, or tooth picks, or even just random pieces of grass (which you make fun of her for, lovingly) its pretty rare that she goes a whole day without reaching for something to mindlessly chew on (one time you offered her your finger and said "if you need to always have something in your mouth... here" and she swatted your hand away and told you off but the blush on her face betrayed her because she does love to have your fingers in her mouth, she cant help it)

loves to kiss you on your hands/knuckles, the chivalrous feel of it, the devotion, its just a go-to move for her and you never ever tire of it or lose those butterflies you felt the first time she did it

her other favorite places to kiss on your body while youre not undressed are your cheeks and your shoulders!

sometimes she worries that youll get bored of spending all your days out there with her so she makes it clear that shed drive you to a friends place and be fine with it if you needed a few a days away (blatant lie, she wouldnt be fine) but you make it clear that youre not interesting in going anywhere, unless its together with her! you love your new routine of having time to yourself in the house or outside until shes done working and you spend the rest of the day together

she might be sober but she’ll gladly make you a nice cocktail or buy you a drink every once in a while because she thinks its very cute when youre tipsy and get even more touchy-feely and affectionate with her than usual

you like to spoil her by giving her hands some love, she uses them so much that she needs to use very moisturizing thick cremes and youll take some of that and massage her hand and and really make sure it seeps into her skin, sometimes shell just lay in bed at night and let you work away at her hands as she almost dozes off from how good it feels <3

nsfw

one might think she has less energy when shes been working hard all day but its actually the opposite, whenever shes breathing heavy and sweating and her blood is rushing from the strain of the heat combined with her physical work, she is so easily turned on by the sight of you, its primal in way, so sometimes when she comes inside all dirty and sweaty and flushed you can tell just from the look she gives you that youre about to be ruined (she will drag you to bed, tear your clothes off and lick and kiss and bite you all over, she gets so into it so fast that all you can do is lay back and make pretty sounds for her as she gets all the pent up energy out of her system, which is a new pleasure for her, the pleasure after-work sex)

shes a very even mix of gentle and aggressive! even though shes much stronger than you, she doesnt get off on the idea of domination, it turns her on way more to think that she is your protector when you when youre having sex, while youre in your most vulnerable state, it turns her on to know that she can hold you in a way that makes you feel weak and eager to sink deeply into that weakness, always gripping you and handling you with a firmness that feels caring and loving no matter how nasty the sex is (she could be in the middle of losing her mind while deep inside you but shed never let that lust and hunger turn her careless or too harsh, you know youll never feel used with her, no matter how hard you fuck, its always tinged with tenderness)

shes strong. very strong….shes been handling animals who weigh much more than the average human for years and when you first started dating you definitely felt a rush when she first grabbed you and you felt the sheer strength of her, it drove you crazyyy to feel how easy it was for her to pull you onto her lap or flip you over or carry you around 😵‍💫

at first, she held back, but when you told her that you trust her and want her to really make you feel how strong she is, she started to get into it during sex, holding you in place or wrapping her arms around you so tight and firm that you mightve just come from that sensation alone... she has stamina that never runs out and prides herself on it, but! when youre giving... its over. doesnt matter how physically strong she is, how firm her muscles are, shes so sensitive to your touch that all of her strength melts away that moment your touch your tongue to her or feel her up or fuck her, shes definitely less composed when youre inside of her than you are when shes in you, she whines and moans so intensely...

shes for sureee big into overstimulation, shes an eager giver when she tops, through and through, so she’ll keep going and going until youre shaking and sweating through the sheets, never in a way that’s punishing, always kissing and caressing you all the way through, whispering sweet things as you come for the fourth or fifth time and eventually tap out, laying on top of her, both of you drenched head to toe but so satisfied, so in love, dozing off until an hour later when you clean up and devour some good food together <3

her sex-drive is prettyyy high but its a consistent thing so she’ more of a "whenever youre down, im down, just tell me" type of person, whereas your bursts of desire are more intense and out of the blue, youre more needy and desperate with it, which works out well because sometimes shell just sit back and wait for you to come onto her, aware that it hardly ever takes long for you to get gripped by a feeling of "i need her now or ill die"

will take risks when it comes to having sex outside, any time, its her property, her land, so she will use it as she sees fit, which includes having you wherever and whenever you two feel like it - it’s rare that youre actually in danger of having someone walk up and see you, but it’s definitely happened once or twice that you lost track of time while messing around in the stables and someone quickly turned back around while coughing loudly to signal to you "wrap it up, people are coming", which always makes her feel kind of smug, the fact that people know damn well how lucky she is, having a girl like you to pull into a stack of hay, savoring the sweet dusty smell of the surroundings mixed with the taste of you while she hikes up your dress or pulls down your shorts and gives you head right there <3

it was a huge fantasy of hers, to have a lover that way, so sometimes you leave the stables with visible prints on your ass and thighs where they hay dug in, picking it off your clothes with her help, shaky legs as you leave her to deal with the people who came to ride their horses, a smile from her when she sees you struggling to walk straight as you go inside to freshen up (or jerk off, to finish what she started, telling her about it afterwards to make her get off to the idea of you in her bed touching yourself while she was outside being all professional..)

she can never ever get enough of seeing you on top of her!!whether it’s you riding her fingers or her strap, grinding down against her thigh, she doesn’t care how, all she wants is to see you lose yourself on her, she’s obsessed... 🫠

also, when shes the one fucking you, you both love using the furniture.. you bent over the kitchen table, one leg propped up on a chair so she has good access, her chest flush against your back, her kissing your neck as she holds you with her arm around your waist and gives to you from the back.. fucking you like that until she turns you back around to have you lay back and relax on the table as she finishes you off, really making use of the steady wooden table when youre squirming and losing it..

early morning sex 💘 she usually wakes up naturally around between 5 and 6 am because as a farmer her days always start pretty early and she loves when you stir and smile at her, still half-asleep and and all cozy and soft, it makes her wanna spoil you, so you often wake up to her gently moving your blanket away, so she can caress you and kiss your body and give you head, nothing too overwhelming, but enough to give you the kind of orgasm that makes you fall right back asleep all satisfied and limp and dazed from the feeling of being half-lucid half-dreaming while she ate you out

youll sleep for two more hours or so while she already gets to work, until you get up and prepare some coffee for her, so she usually takes her first break around 9am and has breakfast with you! you sometimes like to repay her for the way she woke you up by getting on your knees in front of her chair and taste her until she cant take it anymore and gets back up to continue her work, a bit scared she might mishandle a tool with the fresh memory of you looking up at her with a slick chin making her all weak and dizzy..

spit. shes more filthy than she is kinky, give her some intense loving passionate sex with a lot of spit involved and shes over the moon, loves when you spit in her mouth and then kiss her afterwards, when you lick over her chest or neck and leave a glistening trail where your tongue traveled up, when you suck on her fingers to lube them up before she fingers you or jerks you off, when you give her strap sloppy head before taking it all the way in with ease because youre so turned on and it is so wet with your saliva, loves when you let your spit drool onto her cunt before you eat her out 💞

very into sensuality in general, she could spend hours just lazily playing with your pussy and feeling you get wetter and wetter without ever getting bored, she loves to just feel you, having you sit comfortably as she switches between rubbing your clit, your whole outside area, teasing your entrance, and fingering you, shes in love with your cunt and wont ever turn down the chance to just hear you whimper and whine as you relax with your legs spread while she watches your pussy swell and get wet and take her fingers - will coo at you and kiss you wherever she can reach as she tells you how good you feel, will keep it up for as long as you want and you love those moments when you dont feel pressured to orgasm because she loves touching you just for the sake of it, not to get an ego-boost from making you cum (even though she always does, youre too in love with her not to drench her fingers when shes teasing you like that and whispering in your ear)

if you squirt... yeah shes licking it all up and doing exactly what she did before to try and make it happen again, as I said shes filthyyy 😵‍💫 would get so turned on from the sight of you ruining her sheets, would shush you if you apologized and insist that you never ever hold back even if it means she has to do laundry more than usual

her tits are a weak spot, super sensitive </3 her nipples will get hard if the wind blows a little too strong... and before dating you she kinda ignored her chest for the most part but with you she rediscovered the thrill of having her tits sucked while being pleased, sometimes you’ll randomly push her onto the couch and lift up her shirt to kiss her chest just to hear her moan for a few seconds, a little treat for yourself (and her) during the day

vocal. so fucking vocal. she can never ever keep quiet and you only go harder whenever you can tell that shes trying to stifle the sounds, you want them all out in the open, and it usually takes very little time for her to lose her composure which she gets embarrassed by for sure, once the orgasm subsides shes like oh... great. I sounded like ive never had sex in my life. yet again. perfect. but you loveee it, its so hot to you that this woman who is usually perceived as tough and strong and reserved is such a mess in bed

shes spent many years with her beloved truck and for the longest time she had fantasies about fucking in there, which came true once you started dating <3 you love straddling her in her seat when youre parked somewhere secluded, or when you come home from a late night drive, youve definitely fucked in the backseat a few times when she drove you out to a lake or a nice spot where nobody else was around, you both get a thrill out of it, the leather seats, the semi-public feel of it all, the risk factor, the way the car kinda smells like sex when you drive home afterwards (you also love to gawk at her when shes fixing the truck, makes her take her sweet time with it)

loves pillow talk and savoring the post-sex glow, its something she never rushes or skips, shes will move you onto her chest and caress your back or let you lay where you are and kiss your body, eventually resting her head on your stomach so you can stroke her hair, or youll just wrap your arms around each other and stay like that for a while

that post on here thats like "dont shave your bush I will kill myself" thats something she might actually say bc she is for sure soo into bush its one of the most erotic things to her, everything about it, she loves when it tickles her nose, loves the soft feel of it when she puts her hands in your underwear to jerk you off, loves the look of it when you get dressed and your underwear is see-through enough for your bush to peek through, hottt as hell to her

if youre the type to wear lingerie, she’d be very into it, never takes it for granted - one of the hottest things ever to her is when her girl wears clothes that are not what you’d consider fancy or special while wearing the most beautiful, delicate underwear, the contrast kills her every time, the sight of a nice lacy bra peeking out of a tank top that you stole from her... phewww shes on her knees. immediately. same thing with panties, she always interrupts you when youre getting dressed to admire you when youre wearing nothing but a pair of lacy underwear, also loves when you wear regular comfortable cotton underwear, the sight of it wedged between your cheeks somehow makes her wanna take a chunk out of your ass every time.. also loves you in her boxers. everything really, shes a lover of whatever you have going on beneath your clothes <3

face sitting. being the giver in a submissive way is so deeply satisfying for her, so shell often just ask you to ride her face, you might be lying in bed in the afternoon just relaxing kissing a little and shell straight up ask if you want to use her face for a bit, shell happily lay back and use her strength to hold you up by your waist when you get tired and cant really brace yourself against the wall/headboard that well anymore, shell take it all without ever complaining, doesnt matter if you suffocate her, drench her whole face, kinda fuck up her neck, she doesnt care, shell be too drunk on the feel and taste and sight of having you on her like that, staring up at you with glazed over eyes, maybe using one hand to jerk herself off because shes too turned on and cant take it..

maybe one time she was feeling wild and told you to do it while you were wearing a dress outside, her just laying down on the lawn and telling you do it right there bc you could climb off her fast if someone did happen to come around the corner - again, she might be private and reserved but being caught isnt really an issue for her, shed just be like "and what. I will have my girl the way I want when I want, deal with it."

didnt use any toys on her own but can definitely get down with them when its with you! I think she might be too shy to suggest this but she’d absolutely lose her mind if she saw you riding a toy to get off, like you straddling it on her bed to give her the chance to see you from whatever angle she wants, unlike when youre riding her and she cant see you from far away etc. - I also think shes the type of lover who wants to know/see how you masturbate, or how you did it before you met her, its such a private thing and I think she loves the idea of being trusted with that information <3

rediscovered her love of receiving/bottoming with you - with hookups she usually only let them do things that didnt feel too vulnerable, i dont think she let any of them see her in positions that made her feel too exposed, but with you she feels safe enough to admit that she does like being on her hands and knees, that she likes to be finger-fucked until shes near tears, that she sometimes likes to just have her face in the pillows as you eat her out or touch her from the back, its not something that happens too often bc it does require a lot of trust on her part, but when shes really horny and youre being sweet and kissing her all over to get her worked up shell sometimes cave and beg you to just do whatever you want and get rough with her

especially with a younger partner shes turned on by the idea that someone who has less experience can ruin her like that, its a nice secret to have because she knows a lot of people would look at a lesbian who looks like her and assume that shes a top, but shes a switch through and through, would never give up one or the other

she wears a thin gold chain that she hardly ever takes off, so sometimes when youre fucking it dangles over your face, or you pull her in for a kiss by gently tugging at it <3

one time you found a playboy from her exact birth year and month at the antique book/magazine store and brought it home for her, which was more of a silly present but she did find it sweet/hot and left it on the coffee table as decor (you made her flip through it with you and teased her by pointing out which models you assumed she found the hottest, which she shut down by saying "well I would do the same to you right now but theyre all like what.. twenty years too young for you?", so you doubled-down and said "oh dont flatter yourself, I like women my age too", so she did briefly have a fantasy of you getting with a girl your own age as she watches you two, which struck a nerve, but she kept that to herself, at least for the time being..)

youre obsessed with her physique because she has the distinct shape of someone who earned their muscles through hard work, who didnt try to grow them out of a need to become as big as possible but who genuinely needs to be strong to do their daily tasks, so her muscles are not cartoonish or over the top, she just has a firmness to her stomach and thighs and back thats hottt as hell to you, her abs are subtle but theyre there, and your absolute weak spot: her V-line. when shes wearing a shirt thats too short to cover up the spot right above her pants and you can see those lines that lead down into her underwear.. it’s over. youre staring shamelessly, and she pretends she doesnt notice but she loveees it, shell lay back and stretch out her legs and count you gawking at the sight of her exposed stomach 😵‍💫

sometimes when shes tired she’ll just lay flat on her back on the bed, arms and legs spread out and let you crawl all over her, feel her up, do whatever the fuck you want, shes happy to just lay there and take it all, so you usually spoil her and kiss and touch her all over before getting to anything more intense, straddling her, playing with her hair, teasing her, kissing her neck, massaging her, biting her, you know she loves being trapped and helpless while shes exhausted and eager to be showered in affection <3

the first time you were with her when she said "good girl" to her horse you grinned and asked "who, me or her?", so she shot you a smug look and said "what are you doing right now thats praise worthy, hm?" but she definitely took note of it and brought it up later on in bed, which did make her say it less to her horse from that point on (oops..)

one time during your first weeks of dating you couldnt ride your designated horse because you were too sore from the night before and the friction hurt too badly.. she felt a little guilty so she kissed it better after she couldnt help but laugh when you climbed off and said "yeah not today, no fucking way" while pointing between your legs

loves having her hair pulled, sometimes she puts her hair up in a ponytail during sex just so you can easily tug on it to bend her neck and kiss her skin there <3

if you 69 she is always the one whose face is getting smothered, always, she wouldn’t like it if it was the other way around, but every once in a while when youre both in heat and desperate to fuck the other person, she’ll eat you out while you’re trying to hold your hips up over her mouth while you’re jerking her off/struggling to taste her bc of your moaning </3, you both love orgasming at the same time, being together in that state of helplessness, it’s something you crave

if you lost your virginity to her, I think shed offer for you to do something to her that nobody has ever done before to make it kind of even that way, its mostly her way of adding to the sentiment of "I want us to be equals" because she never wants you to feel like shes eager to overpower you or see you as a girl she gets to "corrupt", maybe you laid in bed once and she told you this and she took a moment too long to try and think of something that no lover has ever done to her so you jokingly said "whore." - but youre creative, so you definitely found things that you would be her "first" for

if youre feeling freaky hear me out.. maybe youre the first to ever put your whole hand inside of her. would take a good amount of patience and lubrication but I can see her getting off on it sooo intensely once you manage to slip all of your fingers inside of her... you staring in awe and telling her how hot it feels, and slowly, very slowly, moving your hand a bit.. I think being so full of her lover would ruin her so hard. and she’d be turned on from knowing that none of her longtime girlfriends ever got to do it to her. anway.

her sexual preferences always depends on yours in the sense that she wants to know what you need and then give it to you, if you just want your brains fucked out she’ll gladly give in, if you want to pleasure her without being touched in return shes down as well, if you want both shes never gonna deny you, which means! that when she does allow herself to take charge every now and then by manhandling you and telling you "come here" or "lay back" it ruins you because youre not used to it, she looves the look you get when she decides to be a bit rough for once

to put it plainly: your pleasure is her pleasure, always!

thats all for now! feel free to let your own imagination fill in the rest 💌

#most of these are pretty elaborate bc I had a lot on my mind and had fun with it!#this is Van if she made a drastic change in her 20s and built a peaceful quiet life for herself and didnt eat candy for breakfast #also shes more muscular/fit than in the show so maybe do yourself the favor of picturing that aspect very vividly #I might write a fic for this down the line lets see :) for now heres all of this #yellowjackets #van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer

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