#this took me way longer than it needed to

[gyaruhana]

Hey could you write the frontman smut, I need that man it's not even funny, yk the chair/sofa he always sat on in S1, when watching the game? Imagine cockwarming him there while he's praising us...

Frontman/Hwang In-ho - Cockwarming

Synopsis: Cockwarming your husband as he watches the games

A/N: This is a short little piece but I hope it's good anyway.. Ty for the frontman request bc he spoke to me in season 2..

Warnings: Cockwarming,

To many, the frontman was a reserved man who is not to be crossed. He’s been responsible for the death of many people - whether at his own hands or the hands of the guards that work for him. Not a lot is known about him among the people who work for him other than the fact he has a very pretty wife. You.

It was no secret that he would not tolerate any disrespect towards you. Some have had to learn that lesson the hard way. He’d always make a point of making sure no harm comes to you by warning people of the dire consequences that come with endangering you. It was all out of love for you, of course. He only wanted to keep you safe from the dangers of his deadly work. That’s why he was always nearby. Like right now.

The first game was about to begin and he was relaxed in his chair in the dark room as he watched the screen. You were on his lap making sure to keep still so as not to bother him. Otherwise, he’d likely deliver some sort of punishment. His cock was buried deep inside of you but he paid little attention to how your hole was squeezing his cock. He was too focused on making sure the first game goes according to plan. Everything needed to be in order so the VIP’s could have something entertaining to watch and keep paying for more.

“You’re being so good for me - keeping so still like this,” he spoke as he moved a hand to your hair and began to gently brush his fingers through in a soothing motion. He knew how hard it was for you to stay still when all you wanted was for him to start fucking into your tight hole. However, good things only come to those who wait so he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet. 

His eyes stayed on the screen as he watched people start to drop dead like flies. It never got old to watch the panic on people’s faces when they realised their lives were at stake. He reached over to the table beside him and grabbed his glass that contained whiskey before gently spinning the glass around for a moment. He then took a sip out of the glass before turning his attention to you.

Teasingly, he thrusted up gently to force a reaction out of you. “You really need it, huh? You’re squeezing me so tightly,” he said with a small smirk. He put the glass back down before putting both his hands on your hips. “Just be a good girl and wait a little longer. I know you won’t disappoint me,” he spoke again as he firmly held your hips down to keep you completely still.

He looked back towards the screen and continued to watch the death game. He could hear your shaky breaths in his ear as you became impatient. He found it amusing to see his dear wife be so desperate for his cock to fuck into her with reckless abandon. Well, he’d give you what you wanted soon. As long as you just sat still on his cock like the good wife you are.

“Such a good wife for me, hm?

[kiwriteswords]

Finer Things [Aaron Hotchner x High-Maintenance!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 6k|| AN: Here we are! This took a little longer than expected, but I think I like how this one turned out!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, high-maintenance reader, female reader, progression of relationship, simp!Hotch, feminine reader, Jack exists but is only briefly mentioned, BAU reader, materialistic reader, Garcia the helpful friend, flirty banter, mild language

Summary: You're a stylish...arguably high-maintenance BAU agent who unexpectedly falls for your straightforward and grounded partner, Aaron Hotchner. As you both tackle cases and life’s surprises, you learn to blend your love for the finer things with his practical approach, discovering a deep and enduring connection.

Hotch’s office door clicked softly as you knocked, barely audible over the hum of the precinct around you. The frame filled almost instantly with your form—pristine as always, from your flawlessly styled hair down to the heels that added an effortless grace to your every step.

“Got a minute?” you asked, your voice as smooth and composed as the latte you held in one hand, the steam still curling lazily up from the cup.

Hotch stepped aside, allowing you entrance. “Of course,” he said, though he knew his afternoon was already crammed with meetings and reports. For you, though, he made time—something the rest of the team had noticed and often teased him about. But what could he say? Aaron Hotchner, stoic and steadfast, had indeed developed a soft spot for you.

As you settled into the chair across from his desk, Hotch couldn’t help but admire the meticulous way you organized your space on the table. Your designer bag was set precisely to the right, not a strap out of place. He often wondered how someone so particular could thrive in the chaotic unpredictability of the BAU.

“So, what did you think of the profile?” you began, breaking into his thoughts. Your eyes were bright, lively—a stark contrast to his own, which often carried the weight of the job.

“It’s thorough. You have a knack for getting into the unsub’s head,” Hotch replied, his voice firm yet carrying a hint of warmth reserved mostly for you.

Your smile widened, pleased. “I do try,” you quipped, stirring your latte leisurely. “But I think it could use a bit more… je ne sais quoi, don’t you think?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what would you suggest?”

“Well,” you leaned forward, the light catching your earrings just so. “If I were him, I’d be more careful about where I left my clues. Too sloppy. Maybe he needs a lesson in organization from me.”

Hotch chuckled, the sound more natural than he intended. “I think he’d be horrified at the idea.”

“Good,” you grinned, sitting back with satisfaction. “Then he’d know how I feel about unorganized data.”

Moving to the round table, the rest of the team began to filter into the office for the briefing, and Morgan threw a teasing glance your way. “Looks like Hotch is getting his daily dose of high maintenance,” he commented, a playful smirk on his face.

Prentiss elbowed him lightly, smiling in your direction. “Leave them alone. If anyone can get Hotch to lighten up, it’s her.”

Hotch cleared his throat, signaling the start of the briefing, but he couldn’t deny the truth in their observations. You brought a lightness to his often too-heavy life, a splash of color to the monochrome routine.

As the meeting progressed, your contributions were not just insightful but infused with a vibrancy that lifted the somber mood typical of these sessions. Each time you spoke, Hotch found his attention drawn not just to your words but to the way you expressed them—with a confidence and a flair that was uniquely yours. When you directed a comment towards him, accompanied by a playful raise of your eyebrows, there was an underlying challenge there, as if you were coaxing him out from behind his well-constructed barriers.

Your laughter, light and unguarded, filled the room at one point when you poked fun at the unsub’s choice of hideouts, suggesting even you could find a better hiding place during your shopping trips. The team chuckled, and even Hotch’s lips twitched into a smile—your cheer infectious, your presence undeniably compelling.

As the team began to disperse, you lingered over your notes, your meticulous nature evident as you aligned your papers and recapped your pens with a precision that spoke of a deeper need for order—a trait Hotch could appreciate, perhaps because it mirrored his own.

Hotch watched you, the way the light caught the highlights in your hair and the meticulous care you took with even the smallest task. He remained in his seat, an internal debate raging within him. He was the Unit Chief, always in control, always composed. But around you, those walls he meticulously maintained seemed less formidable, more permeable.

Finally, he stood, his decision made, propelled by a force he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. Approaching you, he noted the slight surprise in your movements as you looked up. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something more, something deeper.

“Dinner tonight?” he asked, the invitation hanging between them, heavier than the casual manner he attempted to portray.

You paused, a pen still in your hand, and met his gaze. The flicker of surprise was quickly replaced by a slow-spreading smile that warmed your eyes. “Trying to keep up with my high standards, Hotch?” you teased, the challenge back in your voice, but this time it was laced with an unmistakable warmth.

“I think I’m ready to try,” Hotch replied, his voice low, honest. The corners of his mouth turned up in a rare, genuine smile that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the usual hardness there.

“Then it’s a date,” you declared, your voice light but carrying a weight that filled the room with a promise of something new, something thrilling.

As you gathered your belongings and left, your heels clicking assertively against the floor, Hotch watched you go, a sense of anticipation building within him. It was a feeling foreign yet exhilarating, stirring something within him that had lain dormant.

He realized then, as the distance grew between you, that what the team jokingly called his ‘weakness’ was perhaps his most profound revelation. In you, Aaron Hotchner found not just a challenge but a vibrant counterpart who could match his steps in life’s intricate dance. With you, the future seemed less daunting, more vivid—colored by the finer things, in every possible way.

Since that first dinner, a subtle shift had occurred in the dynamics between Hotch and you. What started as a casual outing evolved into a series of clandestine meetings, each encounter deepening the bond that was swiftly becoming an integral part of his daily life. The secrecy was necessary—not just for the sake of professionalism within the team but to preserve the unique world that had begun to flourish between the two of you.

Hotch found himself anticipating your texts, which often popped up on his phone with playful emojis and witty remarks about everything from case files to the peculiar habits of their local barista. You managed to make even the mundane seem amusing, and Hotch, ever the stoic leader, found his day brightening with each notification.

One evening, as Hotch returned home from a particularly grueling case, he found a small package at his doorstep. Inside was a high-end espresso machine—a gift from you, complete with a note: "For your home office, so you can enjoy a proper latte without braving the outside world. Think of me when you use it." It was both a luxurious gesture and so quintessentially you, blending high maintenance with thoughtful consideration.

Hotch couldn’t help but smile as he set up the machine in his kitchen. It wasn’t something he would have ever purchased for himself, but now, brewing a cup in the quiet of the morning, he found a new appreciation for the ritual. It reminded him of you—how you’d insist on the perfect temperature, the ideal foam-to-espresso ratio, details he’d once overlooked but now found endearing.

At work, these small infiltrations into his life were becoming more apparent. You had taken to adjusting the small things around him, straightening the papers on his desk, sometimes replacing his usual stark office supplies with items that had a bit more personality—a stapler in polished chrome, sleek and efficient like the espresso machine, or pens that wrote so smoothly he found excuses to handwrite notes he would typically type.

Hotch had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that your influence was a welcome one. It was as if you were slowly coloring in parts of his world that he hadn’t even realized were so monochrome. And when you both sat down at the round table, reviewing case files together, the subtle touches—the way your knee would gently brush against his, or how you’d share a quick, knowing look over a shared inside joke—added layers to their days that Hotch hadn’t anticipated but found he no longer wanted to go without.

One afternoon, caught in a rare moment of downtime, Hotch found himself at the local shopping center, standing before a display of designer ties. He remembered you commenting on how a splash of color could brighten his usual ensemble of dark suits and somber expressions. With a critical eye, he selected one that was a soft shade--something that would match your eyes, he thought, a private acknowledgment of the space you were coming to occupy in his life.

That evening, when he wore the tie, the team didn’t miss the change. “Look at Hotch, finally taking some fashion tips from the best,” Morgan teased, nudging you as you both arrived for the briefing.

You shot Hotch a playful wink, and he responded with a slight nod, a silent conversation passing between them. Yes, you were changing him, but perhaps, Hotch considered as he adjusted the new tie subtly, this change was not just inevitable but necessary.

For Aaron Hotchner, known for his rigor and restraint, the gentle invasion of your high-maintenance habits into his disciplined life was less a disruption and more a revelation. Each new preference, each shared secret, wove a richer tapestry into his days. And as he looked across the table at you, he realized with a clarity that surprised him, that these threads, once so foreign, were now essential to the fabric of his life.

The rarity of a day off was not something Hotch took lightly, especially with Jack away on a Boy Scout trip. He had considered a quiet day at home, perhaps catching up on some reading or simply enjoying the peace. However, as he was contemplating his solitary plans, you texted him about your own plans for the day—getting your nails done, a routine you indulged in every few weeks.

"I’m off to maintain my high standards," your message read, accompanied by a laughing emoji. "Care to join me for a change of scenery?"

The invitation was unexpected. The thought of spending his day off in a nail salon was not something Hotch would have ever considered before meeting you. Yet, the idea of accompanying you, of sharing in something that was a part of your routine, held an appeal he couldn’t deny.

"Sure, why not?" Hotch texted back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he imagined your reaction.

At the salon, you greeted him with a bright smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "Never thought I’d see the day Aaron Hotchner steps into a nail salon willingly," you teased, leading him inside.

The salon was a buzz of activity, a stark contrast to the usual seriousness of his work environment. You introduced him to your nail technician, a friendly woman named Lisa who greeted him with a warmth that seemed to radiate throughout the room.

As Lisa started on your nails, you chatted animatedly about the colors and designs. Hotch found himself pulled into a conversation about the merits of various shades—a discussion he never thought he’d have, yet here he was, weighing in on whether 'Midnight Blue' was a better choice than 'Stormy Grey'.

"You know, you could get something done too. A manicure perhaps? It’s quite relaxing," you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, considering it. "What would the team think if I showed up with polished nails?"

"They’d think you’re embracing the finer things in life," you replied with a laugh. "But maybe just a clear coat. We wouldn’t want to give Morgan too much ammunition."

Surprisingly, Hotch agreed. As Lisa began to work on his nails, he found the experience unexpectedly soothing. The gentle handling, the focus on something so trivial yet intimate, was a stark departure from his day-to-day life.

"So, how does it feel to be pampered?" you asked, watching him with an amused expression.

"Strangely relaxing," Hotch admitted. "I can see the appeal."

As Lisa finished, you both sat under the nail dryers. Hotch looked over at you, taking in the relaxed ease of your posture, and the genuine smile on your face. It was these moments, he realized, that he cherished deeply—the simple pleasures shared, the barriers between professional and personal blurring into something beautifully ordinary.

"You know, I’m glad you invited me," Hotch said, his voice soft amid the hum of the salon. "It’s nice, sharing this part of your world."

You reached over, your hand finding his. "I’m glad you’re here, Aaron. It means more than you know."

As they left the salon, Hotch felt a lightness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The day had been uneventful by most standards, yet for him, it was a precious insight into the everyday joys of the person who had unexpectedly become his closest confidant.

The team's discovery of his relationship with you was as inevitable as it was unintended. It began one morning when Garcia, ever observant, noticed the faintest of smiles on Hotch’s lips as he read a text from you. It was nothing overt, just the subtle lift of his mood, but it was enough to pique her interest.

“Spill it, Hotch. You’ve been smiling more these days,” Garcia prodded as they gathered in the briefing room, her tone teasing but her eyes sharp with curiosity.

Hotch, caught slightly off-guard, managed to maintain his composure. “It’s just been a good morning,” he replied smoothly, hoping his nonchalance would deflect further inquiry.

Garcia, however, was not so easily dissuaded. “Uh huh,” she hummed, giving him a knowing look but dropping the subject in the presence of the rest of the team.

The next clue came unintentionally from you during a case briefing. You were discussing a particularly challenging aspect of the case when you casually mentioned a small detail—a detail that Hotch had shared with you in confidence during one of your dinners together.

As you spoke, Reid’s head tilted slightly, his brow furrowing in that characteristic way when he was putting pieces together. “That’s an interesting observation,” he remarked, glancing between Hotch and you. “Not many would’ve caught that.”

Hotch met Reid’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Reid’s expression softened into a subtle smile, and he nodded slightly, turning his attention back to the files in front of him.

Morgan and JJ were the next to catch on. It happened in the field, during a tense moment when you instinctively reached for Hotch’s hand. It was a brief touch, meant to be reassuring, but Morgan and JJ caught the action from the corner of their eye.

Later, as they regrouped at the SUV, Morgan clapped Hotch on the shoulder. “You know you can tell us, right? We’re family here,” he said in a low voice, his look pointed but friendly.

Hotch simply nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I know, Derek,” he said, grateful for the support he knew they would offer.

Prentiss figured it out during a late-night coffee run when she saw you both at a small cafe, your heads close together, laughing softly over shared stories. She didn’t approach, respecting your privacy, but the next day, her smile was a bit wider when she greeted you both.

“It’s good to see you happy, Hotch,” she said quietly as she passed by his office, her words meant only for him.

By the time Rossi found out, it seemed that most of the team had already accepted the new dynamic with characteristic adaptability. Rossi, ever the father figure, simply raised his glass to Hotch during their next team dinner, a silent toast that spoke volumes.

“You’ve got a good thing, Aaron. Don’t let the job get in the way,” Rossi advised later, when they were alone, his voice low and earnest.

Hotch appreciated the wisdom; knowing the balance between personal happiness and professional duty was a fine line to walk.

As the team gradually discovered the relationship, what surprised Hotch most was not the fact that they found out, but the ease with which they accepted it. Their teasing was gentle, their support unwavering, and in their acceptance, Hotch found not just confirmation of his feelings for you but also a deeper appreciation for the team he considered his second family.

In this newfound openness, Hotch realized that his relationship with you did not weaken his leadership; rather, it enriched the very fabric of his life, both at work and beyond. With each passing day, as you both navigate the complexities of a relationship built amidst the demands of the BAU, Hotch found himself not just accepting but embracing the vibrant color you brought into his once-monochrome world.

The integration of your meticulous routines into Hotch's daily life was gradual, almost imperceptible at first, until one day he found himself deeply enmeshed in the particulars of your high-maintenance habits. What began as playful observations soon became cherished moments of his day, each routine offering a glimpse into the meticulous and vibrant world you inhabited.

Every evening, as you both prepared for bed, Hotch would lean against the bathroom doorway, watching as you engaged in your elaborate skincare routine. The array of creams, serums, and tools was impressive, and he'd often raise an eyebrow in mock incredulity as you explained the purpose of each one.

“Do you really need all of this?” Hotch would ask, his tone light and teasing as you applied a night serum with precise, practiced motions.

“Absolutely,” you’d reply without missing a beat, your reflection in the mirror smiling back at him. “It’s about maintaining standards, Aaron. You of all people should understand that.”

“I thought we were just going to bed, not preparing for a photo shoot,” Hotch would retort, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile.

“It’s called preventive maintenance,” you’d say, tapping the side of your nose with a finger. “One day, you’ll thank me when we’re both ninety, and I still look seventy.”

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the evening. He had to admit, there was a certain peace in these nightly rituals, a tranquility that had seeped into the crevices of his once rigid routine.

Sometimes, you would catch him watching and pull him into the routine, applying a bit of moisturizer to his face with gentle, coaxing motions. “You’ll feel better,” you’d assure him, and he’d comply, not because he believed in the miraculous claims of the products but because it meant more moments shared with you.

On weekends, the rituals would extend to mornings. You’d take your time selecting an outfit, coordinating accessories and makeup with an artist’s eye for detail. Hotch would sit on the bed, coffee in hand, offering the occasional nod or hum of approval as you held up two nearly identical pairs of shoes, asking for his opinion.

“What do you think? The matte or the glossy?” you’d ask, holding them up for him to see.

“The matte,” Hotch would decide after a moment’s consideration. “It’s subtler.”

“Subtle,” you’d repeat, considering this. “I like it. Subtle but effective. Kind of like you.”

The routine wasn’t just about vanity or upkeep—it was a dance, a way of you expressing yourself and inviting him into your world. Hotch found himself missing these interactions whenever you were at your own apartment. The bathroom felt too empty, the mornings too quick and utilitarian. He missed the scent of your skincare products, the sound of your voice explaining the benefits of jasmine oil, or the way you’d ask his opinion on things he’d never considered before.

Even his morning routine had adapted; where once a quick shave sufficed, he now found himself opening your moisturizer, the scent a comforting reminder of you. It was a small concession to the routines you loved, a way of keeping you close even when miles apart.

Through these shared routines, Hotch learned more than just the importance of exfoliation or the difference between matte and glossy finishes. He learned the value of slowing down, of savoring the quiet moments together before the chaos of the day set in. Each ritual, each routine you shared, wove deeper connections between them, turning mundane moments into cherished memories and in doing so, seamlessly blending his life with yours.

With your birthday on the horizon, Hotch was well aware of the intricacies involved in selecting the perfect gift. Your independence and flair for purchasing exactly what you wanted, when you wanted, left little room for him to dazzle you with something unexpected. Yet, the desire to surprise and delight you was strong; he wanted to be the doting boyfriend who could still manage to sweep you off your feet.

One morning, as he was choosing a tie for work, you playfully suggested one that would "match beautifully with my purse—if I had the right shade." The comment was offhand, perhaps even forgetful of the collection you already owned, but it sparked an idea in Hotch's mind.

Later that day, armed with determination, Hotch sought out Garcia. He found her busy at her workstations, screens flickering with data.

"Garcia, could I get your help with something a bit more... personal?" Hotch began, hesitating slightly as he ventured into unfamiliar territory.

Garcia swiveled in her chair, her expression instantly shifting to one of eager attentiveness. "Of course, Hotch! What do you need? Secret admirer codes cracked? Background checks for mysterious suitors?" she quipped, her tone light.

"Actually, I need advice on buying a purse," Hotch admitted, and briefly explained the situation.

"A purse? Oh, for you know who?! This is going to be fun!" Garcia clapped her hands, her earlier levity shifting into focused enthusiasm. "Okay, first things first, we need something as unique and classy as she is. Let’s dive into the world of designer handbags."

Garcia guided him through various high-end brands, explaining the appeal of each. "These are timeless," she pointed out, scrolling through an array of sophisticated designs. "But knowing our girl, something with both function and a high fashion quotient would be ideal."

Hotch listened, absorbing details about textures, colors, and what each brand symbolized. They finally narrowed it down to a few choices, each one reflecting a different aspect of your personality and style.

"This one here," Garcia pointed at a sleek, modern satchel with minimalist design but luxurious detailing, "seems like it could be the perfect accessory for her. It’s stylish but not ostentatious, much like how she approaches her work and personal style."

"It looks great," Hotch agreed, imagining how it would look draped over your shoulder. He made a mental note of the bag and the brand, deciding to do a little more research before making the final purchase.

"Good luck, Hotch! She's going to love whatever you choose because it's from you," Garcia smiled warmly, giving him a thumbs-up as he thanked her and left.

Back at Hotch’s apartment, as you both moved through your evening routine, Hotch found opportunities to subtly probe for more of your preferences without giving away his intentions.

"So, if you were to splurge on something frivolous, what would it be?" Hotch asked casually as you were both settling down with a glass of wine.

"Frivolous?" you chuckled, giving him a playful look. "Isn’t everything I buy somewhat frivolous to you, Mr. Practicality?"

"Perhaps," Hotch conceded with a smile, "but indulge me."

"A purse," you said after a moment, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "A really good, outrageously and stupidly expensive purse that makes me feel like a million bucks when I carry it."

"Sounds like a worthy investment," Hotch replied, his tone teasing but thoughtful. Your eyes met, and there was a spark of something that went beyond the casual banter—a shared understanding and appreciation for these little confessions.

Hotch tucked away every piece of information, each helping him build towards the moment he would present you with the perfect birthday gift. It was more than just a purse; it was a symbol of his attentiveness to your desires and his wish to celebrate everything you were.

But the birthday Hotch had planned for you was supposed to be special, a day to celebrate you in style, with every detail tailored to your liking. Instead, duty called in the form of a particularly tough case that dragged on much longer than anyone had anticipated. The hours turned into days, and by the time it was over, everyone was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained.

As the team began packing up, you sighed heavily, the weight of the last few days evident in your slumped shoulders. "I just want to go back to my apartment," you murmured. "I ran out of clothes, and I forgot half my skincare stuff in the rush out."

Hotch, who had been hoping to salvage what was left of the day, felt a twinge of disappointment. "You could grab what you need and come back to my place," he suggested, trying to keep his tone light, though concern etched his features. He’d go to your place if he could, but Jack was waiting for him. 

You shook your head, fatigue lining your face. "I'm just so tired, Aaron. Let’s just celebrate tomorrow, okay?" Your voice held a note of finality, but also a plea for understanding.

He knew he should let it go…give you the space you needed, but a part of him—the part that had been quietly contemplating a more significant step in your relationship—spoke up. "I was going to bring this up over dinner," Hotch began, his voice steady despite the chaos of the day, "but maybe this is the right moment. You and your... elaborate routines should just move in with me."

Your fatigue momentarily gave way to surprise. "Do you know what you’re getting into? My high maintenance might take over your space," you teased, a faint smile playing at your lips despite the exhaustion.

"Yes," Hotch said firmly, his gaze intense. "I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I love it. I miss it when you’re not there."

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, your smile grew, and the weariness seemed to lift slightly. "You really want me and my half a suitcase of skincare products moving in?"

"Every last bottle and brush," Hotch confirmed, his voice softening. "It’s part of who you are, and I want all of you every day. Not just on good days or birthdays, but every challenging and tiring day too."

Your eyes softened, and you stepped closer, leaning into him slightly. "Okay, but we’re getting a bigger bathroom cabinet," you stipulated, your tone light but sincere.

"It’s a deal," Hotch agreed, wrapping an arm around you. The case had taken much from you both, but at this moment, a new door was opening—a commitment that promised to blend your lives in ways beyond shared cases and briefings.

As you both headed back, the weight of the case still lingering, there was a new undercurrent of hope, of shared futures and bathroom cabinets, a testament to the resilience of your bond.

You decided to pick up a few essentials from your apartment and spend the night at Hotch's place--now your place, too, despite your tiredness. Hotch, feeling a mix of relief and excitement, drove you to your apartment, waiting as you gathered your things.

Inside, you moved efficiently, albeit with a tired grace, packing your cherished skincare products and several outfits. Hotch leaned against the doorway, watching as you filled a small suitcase with what seemed to him an elaborate array of potions and tools. Each item was carefully selected, a ritual that he found both fascinating and slightly amusing.

“You sure you’ve got enough there for just one night?” Hotch teased lightly, his eyes twinkling with humor.

You glanced over your shoulder, a playful smirk on your lips. “This is the streamlined version, believe it or not. You might have to rent the apartment next door.”

“I’ll consult the landlord tomorrow,” Hotch quipped, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Back at his apartment, as you began setting out your skincare products in the bathroom, Hotch watched for a moment, his mind returning to the gift he’d carefully hidden away—something he hoped would make your day a little brighter after the tough case.

“Hey,” Hotch called softly, capturing your attention as you meticulously arranged your items. “I have something for you. I was saving it for a proper celebration, but I think tonight is as good a time as any.”

Your curiosity piqued, you followed him to the living room, where he retrieved a small, elegantly wrapped box from a drawer. Handing it to you, he watched as your eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and anticipation lighting up your features.

You unwrapped the box with a gentle precision, and as you lifted the lid and saw the purse—a beautiful, designer pocketbook that perfectly matched the sophisticated style you cherished—your expression transformed into one of sheer delight.

“Aaron, this is beautiful,” you breathed out, carefully pulling the purse from the box. You admired the craftsmanship, running your fingers over the smooth leather and the detailed stitching.

“It reminded me of you,” Hotch said, his voice sincere. “Elegant, practical, and incredibly stylish. Happy Birthday.”

You looked up at him, your eyes shining not just from the beauty of the gift but from the thoughtfulness behind it. “I love it,” you said, stepping closer to wrap your arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. “Thank you; this is the best end to a rough day.”

Hotch held you close, his heart swelling with the joy of seeing you so happy. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you smile like that,” he murmured into your hair, feeling the weight of the case and the fatigue of the day finally begin to lift.

As you pulled back slightly, still holding the purse, you teased, “Does this mean I get a new purse for every rough case?”

“Birthdays,” Hotch corrected with a gentle smile, his gaze softening as he added, “You make it incredibly hard for me to spoil you more than I already wish to.”

You laughed, a sound that Hotch had come to cherish deeply. “I’ll try to be less self-sufficient in the future,” you quipped, clutching the new purse a little closer as if it were a treasured award.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about your independence,” Hotch replied earnestly. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you. But allow me the occasional indulgence of spoiling you, especially on days like today.”

The purse, an elegant and thoughtful gift, lay between you on the coffee table, symbolizing not just a celebration of your birthday but of the new phase in your relationship. The evening settled into a comfortable rhythm, the earlier tension from the case dissolving into the background as you both enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

With the challenges of the case behind you and the warmth of your shared space around you, Hotch felt a profound sense of contentment. This was more than just a birthday celebration—it was a reaffirmation of your partnership, a testament to how deeply your lives had intertwined.

As you both relaxed into the sofa, the conversation drifted from light teasing to deeper, more introspective topics. Every so often, your hand would brush against the purse, a physical reminder of Hotch’s affection and attention to what brought you joy.

“Thank you, Aaron,” you said again, your voice lower, more reflective as the night wore on. “For understanding me, even when I think I don’t need anything.”

Hotch reached over, his hand finding yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t need to thank me for that,” he murmured. “It’s just another part of our journey together. And I’m grateful for every step we take, side by side.”

The purse remained on the table, a beacon of new beginnings and mutual understanding, as you both shared the quiet comfort of knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns

[mingi-s-dimples]

New Year's Eve - Yungi (Special)

Happy New Year's Eve & Happy New Year, sweethearts! 🎆

pairing: ceo!mingi x model f!reader x manager!yunho

genre: 18+, filth(ish)

summary: alcohol loosened your mouth a bit.. and your actions had gotten bolder to the point you fucked both your ceo and manager. but fuck it, they were whipped for you anyways.

wc: 6.1k

warnings: ceo!mingi, co-ceo/manager!yunho, fashion model f!reader, alcohol involved (champagne and whisky), Mingi is damn wasted and desperate for reader, Yunho is more controlled but he's also done for, oral, double oral (mhm yes she takes em both hihi), soft deepthroating, soft hair pushing/face thrusting, making out, teasing, drunken confession, in my opinion Yunho could drink more than Mingi and Mingi would still be gone & wasted, oral sex (f), use of sex toys (vibrator), use of hand restraint (Yunho's belt), some praise sprinkles, double penetration, threesome, did I say Mingi is needy?, lots lots of cumm, overstimulation, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I completely forgot to post this bro 😭😭😭 I'm so sorry I was out all day and night for nye and I completely forgot. But hey! It's spicy and I was like eh fuck it, no one would've read it exactly on nye soooo here it is finally! I hope everyone had a great if not wonderful time with their loved ones, doesn't matter friends, family or lovers ^^ Happy New Year, Happy 2025 and let's have fun together!!! Love you sweethearts 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The penthouse was a sight to behold, an epitome of luxury that only Mingi could pull off. The crystal-clear windows framed the city skyline, glittering with lights as the countdown to New Year’s Eve loomed closer. Inside, the space glowed with warm lighting and tasteful decor. The centerpiece of the evening was a bucket of expensive champagne chilling on the bar, a nod to the success of Mingi’s fashion empire and the new year that promised even greater heights.

Standing near the bar, Mingi adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp black suit fitting him like a second skin. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, glancing at the clock with a raised brow.

“Late as always,” he muttered, though a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence. Mingi straightened, setting down his glass. The doors slid open, revealing Yunho first, his easy grin and sharp blazer exuding a casual confidence. But it was you who stole the show.

Dressed in a sleek, shimmery black dress that caught the light with every step, you walked out behind Yunho. The fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the slit high enough to turn heads. In your hands, you held a bottle of champagne, a playful smile on your lips.

“We brought reinforcements!” you announced, holding the bottle up triumphantly as you walked toward Mingi.

“Fashionably late, I see,” Mingi teased, taking the champagne from you. His eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “But I’ll forgive you. You look stunning.”

“Thanks, darling. It’s only fair to match the ambiance of your penthouse,” you replied, flashing a wink before slipping past him to the bar.

Yunho chuckled as he followed, setting his coat aside. “Don’t let her charm fool you, Mingi. She made me stop twice to check her hair on the way here.”

“I just like looking perfect. Is that a crime?” you quipped, settling onto one of the plush chairs near the fireplace.

The evening began with laughter, the champagne flowing freely as the three of you toasted to the successes of the past year. Mingi, ever the gracious host, ensured that your glasses were never empty. Yunho took the role of storyteller, regaling everyone with tales from childhood, including one about a particularly embarrassing moment involving Mingi and a failed attempt at skateboarding.

“Some things don’t need to be shared,” Mingi grumbled, but the fondness in his tone betrayed his irritation.

“Come on, it’s the last night of the year!” Yunho said, raising his glass. “We’re celebrating everything tonight—embarrassments included.”

You laughed, leaning closer to Mingi. “I think it’s endearing. Shows you’re not always perfect.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mingi replied, his voice low and smooth, “I’m far from perfect. But I’m close.”

As the night progressed and the champagne bottles were emptied, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The room was warmer, the laughter louder, and the touches lingered just a little longer. You found yourself seated between Mingi and Yunho on the large sectional, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned toward Yunho, your hand resting lightly on his arm.

“So,” you began, your voice teasing, “what’s the plan for next year? More long meetings where you two bicker like an old married couple?”

Yunho groaned, tipping his head back. “You have no idea how much patience it takes to deal with this guy.”

“Me?” Mingi scoffed. “I’m the reason we’re successful. You’re just here for damage control.”

“And to manage your favorite model,” Yunho added, nudging you gently.

“Ah, yes. The face of the brand,” Mingi said, his gaze sliding to you. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You flatter me,” you said, feigning humility.

“Only when it’s true,” Mingi replied, his tone dipping into something softer, something that made your cheeks warm.

It wasn’t long before the champagne had taken its toll. The three of you were sprawled comfortably, the city outside sparkling brighter as midnight approached. You stretched, your dress riding up slightly as you did. Neither Mingi nor Yunho missed it, though they both tried to be discreet.

Feeling bold, you leaned against Yunho, your fingers toying with the lapel of his blazer. “You know,” you said, your voice a little too sweet, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” Yunho teased, his brow arching. “This is either going to be genius or chaos.”

You smirked, your fingers trailing up his chest. “Don’t you think we’ve been a little... too professional all this time?”

Mingi, sipping his drink, choked slightly and glanced at you with wide eyes. Yunho froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air.

“Excuse me?” Yunho finally said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

You tilted your head, your gaze meeting his with a challenge. “You heard me, sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” Mingi echoed, setting his glass down. “Oh, she’s bold tonight.”

“You’re drunk,” Yunho said, though his eyes darkened just a fraction as you moved closer, climbing and settling yourself on his lap without hesitation.

“Maybe,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I’m also right.”

“Weren’t we keeping this professional?” Yunho asked, his hands instinctively settling on your waist.

“Maybe we’ve been too professional,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

The tension in the room thickened. Mingi leaned back in his seat, watching with raised brows and a barely concealed grin.

“Well?” Mingi drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “Are you going to let her get away with this, Yunho?”

Yunho groaned, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his hands tightened their grip on your waist.

“And you love it,” you shot back, brushing your nose against his.

With a resigned sigh and a muttered curse, Yunho pulled you closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Mingi let out a low whistle.

“Happy New Year to me,” Mingi said, raising his glass. “This is better than fireworks.”

Yunho froze for a moment, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breath mingling with yours. It took a second for the haze of alcohol and your boldness to fully register in his mind. But when your hips shifted against him again, pressing closer, the wet heat seeping through the fabric of your panties and onto his pants, a low growl escaped his throat.

It wasn’t just teasing anymore.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with tension. His hands tightened their grip on your waist, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady himself. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin on your lips as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

Yunho’s restraint cracked. His lips crashed against yours, firm and commanding, like months of held-back desire spilling out all at once. The kiss was nothing short of a claim, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and the sound that rumbled from his chest sent a thrill through you.

Your hips shifted again, pressing against him instinctively, and Yunho let out a sharp breath, breaking the kiss for just a moment. “Y/N,” he said again, this time almost a warning, but his voice betrayed the edge of a groan.

Your arousal was soaking through your dress, dampening his pants, and the sensation only made the heat between you more unbearable. Yunho’s lips found yours again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t help himself.

From across the couch, Mingi watched the scene unfold, frozen in place. He’d tried to stay calm, to play the role of the disinterested observer. But as your hips shifted again on Yunho’s lap, the way your dress clung to you and the damp fabric hinted at just how affected you were—it was too much.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the tightness in his pants now impossible to ignore. He cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself discreetly, but the movement caught Yunho’s attention.

Breaking the kiss, Yunho rested his forehead against yours for a moment, catching his breath before glancing over at Mingi. His sharp eyes took in the way Mingi was shifting, his jaw tight and his glass held a little too firmly. A smirk played on Yunho’s lips as he spoke.

“So,” Yunho drawled, his voice thick and teasing, “she’s not the only one excited here.”

You blinked, momentarily dazed from the kiss, but when the meaning registered, your eyes darted to Mingi. The sight of him—tense, clearly aroused despite his attempt at composure—sent a flush up your neck.

Mingi scoffed, his voice rough as he tore his gaze away from you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You smirked, turning back to Yunho. “What can I say? Guess I have that effect.”

Yunho chuckled, his hands sliding possessively up your sides. “That, you do,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver through you.

Mingi stood abruptly as he made his way to the bar. He poured himself another drink with more force than necessary, trying to shake the images from his mind. The heat radiating from where you and Yunho sat was unbearable, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely.

“I need another drink,” he announced, his tone clipped.

Yunho’s smirk widened as he turned back to you, his fingers brushing along the edge of your dress. “I think we’re making him uncomfortable,” he teased.

You laughed softly, leaning closer to Yunho. “Good,” you said, your voice a sultry whisper.

Mingi clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his glass as the tension in the room grew thicker, almost suffocating.

The air in the penthouse was thick with tension, the kind that made your heart race and every movement feel electrified. Yunho’s hands lingered on your waist as you leaned back slightly, his lap still warm beneath you. Your eyes flicked to Mingi, who was pouring himself another drink with a little too much focus, his jaw tight and his posture tense.

You smirked.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling,” you said, your voice smooth and teasing.

Mingi froze for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

Slowly, deliberately, you slid off Yunho’s lap, your movements fluid and calculated. For a moment, Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, reluctant to let you go, but he released you with a low hum of curiosity.

You stood, adjusting your dress with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes catching briefly on the evidence of your effect on Yunho—the bulge pressing against his slacks, darkened slightly where your arousal had soaked through. The sight sent a thrill down your spine, your confidence swelling as you turned your attention to Mingi.

He was pretending to be unaffected, his focus on the drink he was pouring, but his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the glass was just a bit too firm. You sauntered toward him, your heels clicking softly against the floor.

“Mingi,” you said sweetly, standing just close enough that he could feel your presence.

“What?” he replied, his voice clipped, though he didn’t turn around.

You reached out, your fingers trailing lightly up his back and over his shoulder. The touch made him stiffen slightly, and you smiled, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him.

Your hand slid up his chest, fingers teasing over the fine fabric of his suit jacket, and his eyes finally met yours. There was heat there, barely restrained, as if he were trying desperately to keep some semblance of control.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warning.

You tilted your head, your hand drifting lower, over his stomach and down toward his belt. “What do you think I’m doing?” you asked innocently, your fingers brushing against the obvious bulge straining against his slacks.

Mingi flinched slightly at the contact, his breath hitching as his free hand shot out to grab your wrist. “Careful,” he said, his tone dark and edged with tension. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his ear. “Oh, I think I do,” you whispered.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho’s hands appeared on your waist, his warm touch grounding and electrifying all at once. His chest pressed lightly against your back, and his voice was a low rumble as he addressed Mingi.

“What do you think we should do with her?” Yunho asked, his tone teasing but his grip firm.

Mingi’s jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and Yunho as if trying to gauge the situation.

You, however, didn’t hesitate. Turning your head slightly, you met Yunho’s gaze with boldness, then looked back at Mingi.

“I want both of you,” you said bluntly, your voice steady and unwavering.

The statement hung in the air like a firework, bursting with heat and possibility. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly around your wrist, and Yunho’s grip on your waist became more possessive.

“Is that so?” Yunho murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver through you.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You really are something else,” he muttered, though the tension in his voice hinted at something deeper.

“And you love it,” you said, throwing the words back at him with a sly smile.

You leaned closer to Mingi, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you as you arched your back slightly, pressing yourself against him. The contact was electrifying, your hips moving just enough to graze against the hardness straining in his slacks. Mingi’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist faltering for just a moment before he caught himself, his sharp intake of breath betraying his composure.

“Y/N,” he warned, though his voice was shaky, the restraint in it fraying at the edges.

Before he could say anything else, Yunho’s hands slid over your waist, his touch firm and grounding, yet possessive. His chest pressed against your back, and the warmth of his body seeped into you, making you feel caught between the two of them in the most delicious way.

Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to us right now,” he murmured.

You smirked, glancing back at him. “Don’t I?”

His eyes were dark, sultry, and filled with desire as he looked down at you. The alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue, but his confession came with a weight that made your breath hitch.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a damn long time,” he admitted, his voice raw with honesty and hunger. “Every time you walked into the room, every time you gave me that little bratty attitude of yours, I wanted to take you apart.”

The words hung in the air, making your heart race. Mingi stiffened, his jaw clenching as he turned his head slightly to glance at Yunho.

“And Mingi,” Yunho continued, his tone teasing now, “he’s just as bad. Wanted you just as much. But he’s a pussy and never said anything about it.”

Your lips parted slightly, stunned by Yunho’s bluntness, though a flicker of amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to Mingi. “Is that true?” you teased, your voice lilting and playful, though the weight of Yunho’s words lingered in the air.

Mingi’s gaze darkened, his restraint snapping as the last thread of control unraveled. His hand released your wrist, and in a swift motion, he grabbed your waist with both hands, pulling you against him. The force of it made you gasp, and before you could process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly and placed you on the bar counter.

His body caged yours, his hands firm on either side of you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through you. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously controlled.

You nodded, your confidence faltering slightly under his piercing gaze.

“The truth,” Mingi said, his voice rough as his hands slid up your thighs, “is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into my office. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was the professional thing to do.” His hands tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver. “And now, here you are, making it impossible to hold back.”

Before you could respond, Mingi’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss searing and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he claimed you with a fervor that made your head spin.

Yunho’s hands never left your waist, his presence behind you a constant reminder that this was far from over. His low chuckle filled your ears as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your other ear. “Told you he wanted it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and barely controlled.

You nodded, breathless. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Good,” Mingi replied, his voice firm as he pulled you back in for another kiss, his grip on you unwavering.

Yunho’s breath was hot on your ear as he leaned in, his hands still resting on your waist. His voice was husky, full of that delicious edge that only alcohol and desire could bring.

"Should we take this further?" he asked, the words slow and deliberate. "But I can't guarantee you'll be able to walk tomorrow. You might even forget how to be that bratty little thing you are the next day."

Your heart raced at his words, a wicked little smile curling on your lips as you glanced at Mingi. His gaze was fixed on you, dark with desire, and for a moment, it was clear neither of them had any intention of backing down.

Mingi, too drunk to process his thoughts fully, stood without a word, the hunger in his eyes evident as he moved toward you. Before you could even protest, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly, his body pressing against yours.

Yunho, eyes never leaving you, followed behind him as Mingi made his way toward the bedroom, his hands tightening around you as he carefully but urgently laid you down on the bed. The movement was smooth, deliberate, like he couldn't wait another second.

The bed shifted beneath you, and you could feel the heat radiating from Mingi as he straightened up. His fingers fumbled briefly with the buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling away from his body, revealing the toned chest you had been imagining for so long. Then, with a look that bordered between hunger and need, he took off his pants, standing tall over you.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and you noticed Yunho following his lead, his eyes darkened and filled with a similar urgency. The way they both moved, as if they were drawn to you like magnets, made your heart race even faster. He'd only taken his shirt off, his patience running thin.

But then, it was your turn.

Yunho moved closer to the bed, and with a surprising tenderness, his hands brushed over your sides, gently lifting your dress over your head. The way he undressed you wasn’t rushed or forceful. Instead, it was slow, almost reverent, as if you were something rare, something to be cherished.

You shivered under their gaze, the anticipation in the air thickening as Mingi and Yunho marveled at you. The delicate black lingerie that enveloped your body seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting, contrasting beautifully against your skin. Both men were momentarily frozen in awe, their gazes roaming over you with admiration and wonder.

"You’re…" Mingi started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the word hung in the air—unable to fully capture the intensity of what he was feeling.

Yunho’s lips parted slightly, his hand resting on the bed beside you as he took in the sight. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with desire, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“I've never wanted to fuck you so bad until now… but that can wait, for a moment” Mingi said, eyes roaming over yours.

The room was softly lit, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Yunho stood near the bed, his tall frame calm and composed, while Mingi leaned casually against the dresser, his grin wide and easy, though the flush of alcohol in his system was evident in the slight sway of his movements.

—

“You know,” Yunho began, his voice smooth and steady despite the faint tint of tipsiness in his cheeks, “I think it’d be better if your hands were tied. Might make things easier for you to focus.”

His eyes flickered toward the leather belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it, the metallic clink of the buckle filling the quiet room. His movements were deliberate, giving you plenty of time to object if you wanted to.

You nodded, your pulse quickening at the anticipation in the air. Turning around, you felt the edge of the bed press against the backs of your thighs as Yunho stepped closer.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice gentle but firm.

You complied, feeling the smooth leather loop around your wrists. Yunho’s fingers brushed against your skin as he secured the belt—not too tight, just enough to restrict your movement without causing discomfort. “Let me know if this is too much,” he murmured, testing the knot before stepping back to admire his work.

“Perfect,” he said, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two of you. “Yunho, you’re too good at this,” he teased, his voice slightly slurred but playful.

“She makes it easy,” Yunho shot back with a smirk, gesturing for you to kneel on the edge of the bed. The soft fabric of the comforter brushed against your knees as you adjusted your position, your bound hands resting lightly against your lower back.

The two of them moved to stand in front of you, their towering frames blocking out the dim light. Yunho was the first to step forward, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Start with me,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

You leaned forward, your movements deliberate, as you traced your tongue om his cock, from the base to the leaking tip. Yunho’s breathing hitched slightly, his calm composure wavering as his hand slid to the back of your neck. His touch was firm, guiding you but never forcing.

Beside him, Mingi watched intently, his fingers twitching as if itching to join in. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his usual boldness softened by the alcohol coursing through his system.

After a moment, Yunho gently pulled back, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he stepped aside. “Your turn,” he said, nodding toward Mingi.

Mingi wasted no time, stepping closer with a lazy grin. “Been waiting for this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. His hand tangled lightly in your hair, his touch less controlled than Yunho’s but no less careful. He let out a shaky exhale as you leaned into him, his body visibly reacting to your efforts. Your lips sucked on his tip, drawing out whines and soft moans from his rising chest.

The energy shifted as you alternated between them, the rhythm fluid and unspoken. Yunho’s steady presence contrasted with Mingi’s more erratic responses, creating a dynamic that kept you on your toes.

Then came the moment they had both clearly been waiting for. Yunho’s hand brushed against Mingi’s shoulder as they exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.

“You think you can handle both of us?” Yunho asked, his tone a mix of challenge and encouragement.

You nodded, your confidence growing as they moved closer, their proximity forcing them to stand shoulder to shoulder. Yunho tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “Take your time,” he said, his voice steady.

You started slowly, focusing on one and then the other, testing your limits as you adjusted to the new feeling.. of taking both cocks at the same time. Their reactions were immediate and visceral—Yunho’s quiet groans mingling with Mingi’s more vocal appreciation.

As you began to take them both simultaneously, the intensity in the room shifted. Mingi’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet murmurs of encouragement. Yunho’s breathing grew heavier, his hand steadying you as he guided the rhythm. Their cocks rubbing together in your mouth as you sucked both off, the stretch you felt in the corner of your lips making your eyes tear up.

Mingi was the first to test boundaries. He softly thrusted in your mouth. The feeling of hitting the back of your throat made him cum instantly, a string of curses escaping his mouth at the surprise of his fast release. Mingi pulled out and caught his breath as Yunho took full control of your head, his cock filling your mouth nicely. As you bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue licking the shaft as you sucked him off, it drove him fucking insane. You sucked harshly on the tip and pressed your tongue into it as he came in your mouth, the smirk in his fafe telling you everything you had to know. He gestured you to swallow everything, a satisfied hum filling the air.

When Yunho finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, and the room was thick with lust. He leaned down, his fingers deftly undoing the belt around your wrists. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across your face. Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his usual boldness tempered by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

—

His lips curved into a sly grin as he got up in a rush and knelt between your thighs, his large hands gently pressing them apart. “I think it’s time we really spoil her,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Beside you, Yunho got up from the bed to rummage in one of the bed drawers, taking out a small vibrator. He turned it on, the faint hum of the toy adding an edge to the already charged atmosphere. “Relax for us,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

Mingi wasted no time, his warm breath brushing against your clit before his mouth followed. The first touch of his tongue was soft and deliberate, a slow, wet stroke that sent shivers down your spine. He took his time, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of you, finding the spots that made you gasp and lingered there.

Yunho watched intently, his sharp eyes taking in every reaction. “She’s already responding so well,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He lowered the toy closer to where Mingi’s mouth worked, the anticipation building with every inch.

The first contact of the vibrator was light, teasing—a gentle buzz that sent jolts of pleasure through you. Mingi adjusted his rhythm immediately, his tongue working in perfect harmony with the toy. He alternated between firm, focused licks and softer, swirling motions, his hands gripping your thighs tighter to keep you steady.

“Good girl,” Yunho said softly, his deep voice grounding you as the sensations began to build. “Let us take care of you.”

Mingi hummed in agreement, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of stimulation. He angled his head slightly, his tongue flicking in quick, precise strokes that made your hips jerk against him. “She tastes so good,” he muttered, his words muffled but filled with genuine appreciation.

Yunho increased the intensity of the toy slightly, the buzzing growing sharper as he pressed it closer to your clit. The combination was overwhelming—Mingi’s hot, wet tongue moving with purpose, and the relentless vibration of the toy pushing you closer to the edge.

“Hold her still,” Yunho said, his hand pressing gently against your lower stomach to keep you steady as your body began to tremble.

Mingi glanced up briefly, his lips slick and his grin wicked. “She’s close, isn’t she?” he said, his voice low and rough. Without waiting for a response, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster and firmer, as though determined to push you over the edge.

The pressure in your core built to a crescendo, every nerve alight as the sensations became too much to bear. Yunho adjusted the toy one final time, hitting the perfect spot just as Mingi sucked lightly, his tongue swirling in tight, focused circles.

Your orgasm hit like a wave, your body arching as pleasure surged through you. Mingi didn’t stop, his tongue easing you through the intensity while Yunho pulled the toy back slightly, letting the vibrations fade as you came down from the peak.

“Breathe,” Yunho said, his tone gentle but steady as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip.

Mingi pressed a final kiss against your inner thigh before sitting back, his grin smug but affectionate. “Told you we’d make it good,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You managed a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly. “You weren’t kidding,” you said, your voice breathless but full of satisfaction.

Yunho leaned over to untie the belt from your wrists, his touch careful as he massaged the faint marks left behind. “Next time,” he said with a smirk, “maybe we’ll let you be in charge.”

Mingi flopped onto the bed beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “If she can still move after this,” he joked, his voice light.

—

The room was warm, the three of you still catching your breath as the quiet tension settled. Mingi stirred first again, his sex drive being overly high when he’s drunk, sitting up with a groan, his hand raking through his messy hair as his gaze locked onto you. His eyes were dark and needy, roaming over you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice shaky but insistent. “Can I ask you something? Please.”

You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your expression as your heart raced. “Of course,” you replied softly.

He leaned closer, his hands finding your thighs and gripping them firmly, his touch hot and possessive. “I—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “I want you. Both of us. Together. I’ve been wanting this for so fucking long.” His hands slid up slightly, his thumbs brushing your skin. “Please tell me I can have you. I won’t stop thinking about it until I hear you say it.”

Before you could answer, Yunho let out a low chuckle, his smirk teasing but edged with something darker. “Mingi, come on,” he said, though there was an unmistakable smile tugging at his lips. “Give her a second to breathe, man. You’re drunk. Don’t push her.” His eyes flickered to you, meeting your gaze as he softened slightly, though his intentions were clear.

Mingi’s jaw tightened, but there was a flash of something softer in his eyes as he glanced back at you. “I just… I need to know,” he muttered, his voice husky. “Please, I want this so badly.”

You felt your heart flutter at the desperation in his voice. You reached out and cupped his cheek, leaning closer. “I do,” you said, your voice steady, yet filled with longing. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I want both of you.”

Mingi’s face softened, the tension easing from his body as he let out a deep, relieved breath. “I’ve wanted this for damn long…,” he repeated, his voice raw with need.

Yunho leaned back slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of your body before returning to Mingi. “You’ve been waiting forever, huh?” he teased, the playful edge in his voice not hiding the hunger in his gaze. “Seems like it’s time we make this happen then.”

Without another word, Yunho’s hands slid under your arms, pulling you into his lap with a smooth, practiced motion. His grip on your hips was firm as he steadied you against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, his tone softer than before but still filled with something deeper. “Relax, sweetheart.”

Behind you, Mingi’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, his touch needy and urgent. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his lips brushing your neck as his hands slid lower. “How long I’ve wanted to make you ours.”

Yunho chuckled softly, his voice low and teasing as he pressed his lips to your temple. “She knows now,” he said, though the underlying hunger in his tone made it clear that he wasn’t backing down.

“She’s ours now,” Mingi growled, his fingers gripping your hips possessively.

Yunho’s fingers tightened on your hips as his gaze turned darker, more focused. “Ours, huh?” he muttered, the teasing gone from his voice now. “Then let’s see if she can handle both of us.”

Yunho, the ever composed one even if he drank as much as Mingi, lifted you up slowly and lowered you even slower on his cock, letting you adjust to his huge size. Mingi did the same but more urgently, he got closer to you, his hands roaming on your body as they settled on your waist and lowered your ass on his cock. You moaned softly at the sensation of being so stretched out, arching your back against Mingi.

“Damn she's taking us good…” Yunho groaned, starting to thrust up and down slowly. Mingi did the same, trying to be in sync with Yunho as he buried his face in the nape of your neck, his vocal self never faltering as he whined and groaned out with every thrust of his. Your hands were straddling Yunho's shoulders, steadying yourself while bouncing up and down on both men. It felt so good, so full and so hot.. to be fucked by both. The alcohol in your bloodstream only made it even better. You were not drunk, no… tipsy? Yes. But it only made it better.. the fact that your words were loosened and actions bolder meant everything to you as you've been trying to make a move on them since forever.

Though, Mingi… felt exactly the same. Only that he was gone for, needy and practically begging for you to move more above him.

“P-please, y/n..” he whined in your ear, turning you in even more.

Yunho looked at Mingi and giggled, his words eliciting, “just do whatever, she's all in for it.. just look at her, taking us so damn good. Tell me sweetie, do you want us to fill you both? Hm?” he said as one of his hands rode up your body and stopped on your breast, playing with your nipple.

“Ah, Y-yunho!” you whimpered out when he pinched it.

“Say it, sweetie. I need to know..”

“Y-yes… for fucks sake, please..” you pleaded, both men pounding into you more fiercely when hearing your words.

“Mhm, that's more like it…” and his thrusts started getting deeper, sloppier and wilder.

Both men's hands gripped your waist and thighs down, pushing you on their cocks only to make you take them deeper.

Within a few thrust Mingi couldn't help himself anymore and came, filling you up with his huge load of cum. He's followed by you, your inner walls clenching harshly on Yunho's cock, soft cries and moans escaping your rapidly rising chest.

His eyes widened in surprise and he came, basically being rushed to by your needy cunt. He fucked you thru your and his orgasm as Mingi had done the same and they slowly rode their highs, slowing down and eventually lifting you up and laying you on the ruined bedsheets.

“Wow… that was..” Yunho started, but you continued.

“Fucking hot.” you chuckled out, your legs trembling and head dizzy from all the action. Both men laid on each of your side and caught their breaths.

“We shoulda done this sooner.. I never thought it woulda been this amazing.” Mingi said, his words slurred.

“Well.. That was a damn Happy New Year for me.. for us” you said and the two men laughed softly, embracing you in a warm hug.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

[woso-story]

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Last Part

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

The weeks after your dinner with Alexia passed in a way that felt both impossibly fast and profoundly significant. What started as sporadic meetups soon became a natural part of your routine again. Lunches, dinners, walks with Mylo—each moment you spent together was layered with the quiet, tentative hope of rebuilding something once lost.

But this time, it was different. There were no unspoken words, no lingering shadows of past pain that hung over your interactions. It felt lighter, freer. Both of you had done the work to heal individually, and now, you were finding your way back to each other with a sense of purpose and clarity you hadn’t had before.

---

Lunches were the first tradition to take root.

Alexia would often text you during the day, her messages a mix of playfulness and genuine interest in your day:

“Lunch break soon? There’s a café that does amazing croquetas. My treat?”

“You need a break from the office grind. Let me kidnap you for an hour.”

And each time, you’d meet her at some tucked-away spot she’d discovered. Whether it was a vibrant tapas bar or a quiet courtyard café, the settings always felt intimate, as if the world was just a backdrop to your conversations.

Dinners, on the other hand, carried a weight of their own.

One evening, Alexia had taken you to a small Italian restaurant she’d raved about. The soft glow of candles illuminated her face, and as she leaned across the table to tell you a story about her teammates’ latest antics, you found yourself mesmerized by her all over again.

“You’re not even listening,” she teased, catching you staring.

You blinked, cheeks flushing. “Sorry, you’re just…distracting.”

Her smile in response was enough to make your heart race.

---

Mylo, of course, had become Alexia’s biggest fan.

Every time she showed up at your door, he’d go into a frenzy, barking and wagging his tail so hard it was a wonder he didn’t topple over.

“Okay, okay, I’m here,” Alexia would laugh, crouching to let him jump on her. “Did you miss me, little guy?”

“He likes you more than me,” you’d joke, but deep down, you loved seeing how easily she connected with him.

Your walks often took you through the park, Mylo leading the way as you and Alexia strolled side by side. The conversations ranged from light banter to deeper reflections on life, and with every word, you felt the bond between you grow stronger.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, Alexia turned to you with a soft smile.

“I missed this,” she admitted. “Just…being with you.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to fully believe that what you were building with her now could be even better than before.

---

Alexia had invited you to one of her matches and you’d agreed without hesitation.

Seeing her back on the pitch after everything she’d been through was nothing short of inspiring. From the moment she stepped onto the field, she was a force of nature—commanding, confident, and utterly in her element.

You watched her with a mix of admiration and pride, clapping and cheering with every move she made. When the final whistle blew and her team secured a victory, you felt a swell of joy that had nothing to do with the game itself.

After the match, Alexia came to find you in the friends and family section. She spotted you immediately, her face breaking into a wide grin. Without a second thought, she hopped over the barrier, landing gracefully on the other side.

“You were amazing,” you told her as she pulled you into a hug.

Her arms lingered around you a moment longer than necessary. “It means so much to have you here,” she said softly.

Later that night, you joined her and her teammates at a bar to celebrate. Though the lively atmosphere wasn’t usually your scene, Alexia made it worth it. The two of you sat together in a corner booth, laughing and talking as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

When you told her you wanted to head home, Alexia didn’t hesitate to offer to walk you.

---

It was late by the time you reached your building, the city quiet save for the occasional sound of passing cars.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

Alexia nodded. “I’d like that.”

Inside, Mylo greeted you both with his usual excitement, his tail wagging furiously as Alexia knelt to greet him.

“You’re such a good boy,” she cooed, scratching behind his ears.

You grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, and the two of you settled on the couch. The conversation flowed easily, the wine loosening your inhibitions just enough to let the words come freely.

At some point, the distance between you disappeared. Alexia shifted closer, her arm brushing against yours as she turned to face you.

“I’ve missed this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”

You looked into her eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, she leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if she were afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her face as the world around you faded away.

When you finally pulled back, Alexia’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with emotion.

“I still love you,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I know I messed up before, but I want to fix this. I want us to have another chance.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “Lex…” You paused, searching for the right words. “I never stopped loving you.”

Her face lit up with a smile, and before you could say anything else, she pulled you into another kiss.

---

That night marked the start of something new. You and Alexia weren’t just picking up where you left off—you were building something stronger, something rooted in the lessons you’d both learned during your time apart.

She became a constant presence in your life again, not just as a partner but as someone who truly understood you in a way no one else ever had.

And as the weeks turned into months, you found yourself falling even deeper in love with her—proof that sometimes, the best things in life are worth fighting for.

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

The End.

Oh my gosh, I loved writing this story so much. I hope you enjoyed it too.

Happy New Year, everyone!!

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer was silent for a moment: Alastor... yes, I know him. Why? How do you know that name?

Adam: He was here-.

Lucifer: What?! Here?!

Adam wanted to chuckle at how his babies responded to their dad's anger, as they started growling.

Adam: It's okay, Lu. I swear! He just... gave me this.

Lucifer grabbed the vile out of Adam's hands. It smelled like Alastor. How didn't he realize he was here? Lucifer's losing his touch.

Lucifer: ...Monster blood? Why would he...?

Adam: He said it would speed up my changes. I... I was going to take it, but I thought I should ask you first.

Lucifer studied it for a moment before turning to Adam: Take it? Why would you want to do that?

Adam: ...I just... I could help protect our babies. Amd give you more- and maybe your father-.

Lucifer: Fuck. Him. Don't change yourself on his account, love.

Adam looked down at his babies, now sleeping soundly.

Adam: I mainly want to do it for them. Alastor said his change took a long time. I just... if it's safe, I want to. I want to be a part of everything. Be more. You know?

Lucifer sighed, nuzzling into Adam's neck: You're perfect, Adam. But, this is your decision. If you want to speed up your changes, then I'll support you and be there every step of the way. If you don't, that's more than fine.

Adam: ...He said I can live longer.

Lucifer: ...He's not wrong.

Adam: I can give you a bigger litter- and sooner.

Lucifer licked his neck: It's all up to you, Adam. I'll be here for whatever you choose. Sleep on it, yeah?

Adam smiled and nodded. He'd need to wake up to feed his babies soon enough, anyway.

Monster under the bed au where Lucifer is a monster and "terrorizing" Adam?

And by terrorizing, I mean fucking. Grossly. Disgustingly.

Complete monster porn.

Oh no, are my kinks coming out again? Oh well 😉

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Don't tease me with a hot au lol

Oh, what if Adam bought a new house and that's when it starts?

[lucy90712]

Finding out you’re pregnant

A/n: Happy new year guys. As promised for the new year this is the start of a pregnancy mini series. New parts will be out when I can get them done hope you enjoy ~ Lucy 

Gavi: 

Over the past week or so I haven't been feeling right I've felt nauseous most days and just overall not myself. I have also missed my period which only really points to one thing but I don't want to believe it. Pablo and I are still so young sure we've been together for nearly 3 years now but having kids isn't something we've talked about much. We both want them but it was always an in the future thing so for it to maybe be happening now has me panicking. I know I should take a test to find out for sure but I'm scared because once I know the result it becomes real and if I'm pregnant I have to tell Pablo. 

Today though I feel like I can't put it off anymore I have to find out and deal with the consequences whatever they are. I can't do it alone though so I went out and got a test as Mikky is coming over with Miles and I figured she'd be a good person to have around when I find out as she's been through it all. When she arrived I told her how I'd been feeling and my plan and she was encouraging me straight away telling me that everything would be fine. After I took the test she waited with me and even looked at the result first as I was too scared even though I already knew what it would be. Once my suspicions were confirmed and I knew I was pregnant the conversation turned to how to tell Pablo, Mikky suggested doing something simple like just giving him the test in a box so that's what we set up. 

When Pablo finally got home Mikky left leaving just the two of us. Being alone with him I felt so nervous I mean what is he going to think he doesn't often get mad at me but I can see this being one of the rare times he does. Surely he doesn't want to be tied down by a baby when his career is just starting out I know he wants to enjoy being young but I don't know if he can do that for much longer. 

"Are you ok you've been extra quiet ever since I got home" Pablo said 

"I'm fine but I have something for you" I said handing him the box 

"You're pregnant" he whispered clearly shocked 

"Yeah I am and I know we said we weren't ready for kids so I'm sorry and I get if you want nothing to do with me now" I rambled

"Hey it's ok I'm actually really excited we're starting our own family sure it's sooner than I imagined but I can't wait to see this baby grow" he said giving me a kiss which made me feel a lot better 

Pedri: 

Pedri and I have talked about having kids. Starting a family is something we both want but neither of us are quite ready yet or at least we weren't but now we might have to be. I've been feeling quite sick the last few days and straight away my mind went to the day Pedri and I weren't as careful as we usually are which of course has come back to haunt us. I wanted to ignore it and at least wait for my period to be late but Pedri wanted to know now and I'm not going to say no. 

To find out we needed a test as I don't keep them on hand as we are always careful so I don't keep tests for emergencies but maybe I should. Pedri wanted to come in the store with me but he also didn't want us to be seen and for someone to put our business all over social media. So it was just me who went in wearing sunglasses and a mask so no one recognised me either. It was so nerve wracking buying the test especially when the cashier wished me luck I felt like a teenager sneaking around behind their parents back. On the drive home Pedri held my hand the entire way trying to help calm me down which was a sweet gesture but it didn't really help. 

Back in the comfort of our own home I went straight to the downstairs bathroom to take the test. Pedri stood with me as we waited the 5 minutes for the results his arms were around my waist and my head rested on his chest as I thought about what the result might mean for us. It all feels like a lot but having Pedri there made me feel a lot better as it felt like we were truly in this together. The timer I set scared the both of us as we were in our own little world but quickly we were brought back to reality. As I went to flip the test my hands were shaking so Pedri put his hand on top of mine and we flipped the test together. Two very obvious lines stared back at us both which I thought would make me feel nervous but I was actually overwhelmed with excitement. 

"I can't believe it I'm actually so excited" Pedri said 

"Me too I thought I'd be more scared but I'm actually so happy" I said 

"Clearly we were ready to take this step and just needed the push to realise it" he said 

Jude: 

Jude has always said he doesn't want kids and I was on board with that as having kids isn't something I've ever been crazy about. It isn't something I ever ruled out completely as you know people can change their minds but in my mind that was at least 5-10 years in the future if ever. Recently though I've just felt off like somethings not right so when my period was a few days late my mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Any normal person would probably tell their partner and they would figure it out together but I'm terrified to tell Jude in case he leaves me as he has made it very clear multiple times that having kids isn't something he wants. 

This fear is exactly why I went and got a test and took it on my own without anyone knowing. I could've talked to one of my friends but I didn't want anyone to possibly let it slip to Jude as I need to be the one to tell him. Of course the result was exactly as I feared it would be I was very much pregnant. I cried for hours after I found out as I knew I had to tell Jude and deal with whatever the consequences will be which will probably end with me doing this alone when Jude ultimately decides to leave me. Realistically I should've told him that day to get it over with but I couldn't handle it mentally so I put it off. 

It has now been over a week and I am still hiding this big secret from Jude, I have wanted to tell him I really have but the right moment hasn't come up yet. He is starting to get a bit suspicious though as he keeps asking me if I'm ok and giving me weird looks when I say I'm fine. As I've waited so long I've built up this moment so much that I'm so scared for it to actually happen. 

"Hi love how are you?" Jude asked as he arrived home from training 

"I'm good how was your day?" I asked back 

"What's up with you I can tell you are keeping something from me please just tell me what it is whatever's wrong we can figure it out together" he nearly begged 

"Please don't be mad but I'm pregnant" I finally blurted out 

"Wow that's not what I was expecting" he said 

"I'm sorry just please don't leave me" I cried 

"I'm not going to leave you I promise I just wasn't expecting that I know I said I didn't want kids but for some reason I feel different with you I'm ready to step up and for us to do this together I'm actually kind of excited" he said 

"I love you" was all I managed to say 

"I love you more" he said 

Joao: 

Joao and I have been together for a few years and engaged for a year now and after moving to London we had a discussion about our future together and ultimately we decided that both of us were ready to take the next step and start a family. Even though we said we were ready we agreed that we didn't want to rush the process at least not right now so we wanted to take a more casual approach. I stopped taking my birth control but I haven't been tracking my cycle or doing anything special as I'm under the impression that it will happen when it happens. 

Over the past few weeks I've been feeling really ill I just have no energy and I have been feeling nauseous most days. To start with I just got on with my life as I thought it was just a little cold or something but as time has gone on and I've not got any better I realised it must be something more. Joao made me call off work the past few days to rest and see if that makes me feel any better but that hasn't helped either. After another day of barely leaving our bed Joao suggested I take a pregnancy test just to be sure as then if it's not that he will definitely make me go to the doctors. 

Luckily I have pregnancy tests in the bathroom for situations like this so Joao helped me out of bed and I took the test with him waiting for me right outside. I sat the test on my bedside table and we just waited. Joao had me sat in his lap on the edge of the bed stroking my hair but we sat in silence while I thought about whether I could actually be pregnant. It hasn't been long at all since I stopped taking my birth control and I didn't think it would happen this quickly but if it did that would be really exciting. The 5 minute timer Joao set passed rather quickly and suddenly it was time to learn if our lives will be changed forever or if I'm just really run down. 

"I'm pregnant" I said not quite believing what the test in my hand read

"I can't believe it who knew it would happen so quickly" Joao said 

"I know we haven't even been trying properly" I said 

"At least we know why you have been feeling so awful now" Joao laughed 

Ruben: 

Ruben and I have been trying for a baby for almost a year now. To start with we were trying more casually but then I started tracking my cycle and we did things properly but that didn't work either. We have tried every tip and trick and still no positive pregnancy test. There has been times that I've had symptoms like nausea and I've even been late on my period a few times but still every month I'm greeted with a negative test. It's been hard as I want nothing more than to start a family with Ruben and I just feel so useless that I can't get pregnant like every other woman I know can. 

Again this month I've had some symptoms like being extra tired and not liking food I usually love but I don't want to get my hopes up as I've been in this position before and only been let down. It's always difficult not to get a bit excited at the prospect of finally being pregnant but I don't think I can handle another disappointment at least not night now. The amount of times I have wanted to just give up have only increased especially recently, this whole process is just making me feel awful and I don't know if it is worth it especially right now. 

Ruben wants me to take a test again and I can see why but I've been putting it off to avoid the disappointment. I promised him that today I would take a test but we agreed that if it was negative that we'd take a break from trying and I wouldn't take another test for a while just to protect my mental health. Of course Ruben came back from training super excited but I just can't get myself to feel the same way. Despite that I still took the test and just gave it to Ruben as I simply don't want to see the one line I've become accustomed to seeing. 

"I-it's positive" Ruben chocked out a few minutes later 

"What?" I questioned 

"It's positive we're going to have a baby" Ruben said handing me the test so I could see for myself 

He wasn't wrong there was two clear lines on the test. Neither of us could stop the tears from flowing as Ruben picked me up and spun me round which made me feel quite sick but I couldn’t care less I was just so happy this nightmare has finally ended with the result we wanted. 

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part I

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———

Late October

Steve Rogers was frustrated.

His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.

Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.

Except that it wasn’t really.

“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”

Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.

More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.

“Behave. Or I will make you…”

Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.

All of the time.

It seemed impossible.

“I love you too, Frumoasă.”

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.

“Everything good?”

Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.

“Everything is great.”

Then Bucky frowned.

“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”

The blond raked his hand over his face.

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”

“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “

Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.

“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”

Bucky gazed out of the window.

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”

Steve sighed.

“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”

The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.

“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”

Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.

—--

Early November

You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.

You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.

“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”

Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.

“See there! It’s better already!”

You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.

“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”

Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.

“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”

She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.

“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”

Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.

“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”

You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.

“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”

You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.

But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.

—--

“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.

“Okay, you know what…”

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”

You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.

“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”

“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”

“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”

“Go get that nut video.”

Your cousin laughed at you.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”

“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”

Easy for her to say.

—---

The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.

Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.

The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.

On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.

He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.

It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.

“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”

The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.

“Yeah, well. Traffic.”

Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”

“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”

Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.

“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”

Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.

“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”

Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.

“Sure.”

This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.

“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.

Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.

“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”

“Grant Stevens.”

A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.

“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”

Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.

—-

A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.

Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.

Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

He was about to find out however.

Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.

“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.

Like you.

—--

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”

"Dat azzz tho."

“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”

You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.

You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.

You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.

—-

When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.

Again, you were oblivious to him.

Steve, on the other hand, was undone.

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.

Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.

You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.

Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.

You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.

Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.

You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.

—--

You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.

You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.

As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.

As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.

His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You were objectifying your new co-worker.

That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.

—-

Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.

Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.

“Hi.”

It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.

Then that mouth started moving.

“Hello. You the new barback?”

“What?”

Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.

The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.

“Are… you… new… here?”

“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”

You extended your hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”

“Peach?”

The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.

“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”

Steve was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”

Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.

“That’s a stage name, right?”

Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.

Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.

You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”

—--

“Don’t beg.”

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.

You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.

You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.

You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.

“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”

For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.

“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”

“Yeah. Solidarity.”

Grant cleared his throat.

“Great moves up there.”

—---

You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.

He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.

“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”

You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.

“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”

You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.

As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.

—----

Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.

He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.

Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.

He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.

He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.

“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”

Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.

Wait.

Were those spurs?

Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.

The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.

These were grown men and women.

And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.

Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.

The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.

You were brilliant.

You were what made Regine extra ordinary.

—---

You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.

“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”

He shook his head.

“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.

You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.

“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”

“I did pretty good.”

Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.

“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”

You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.

“Holy Shit!”

You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.

“There’s a stack in here.”

“Whoa! Cool.”

Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”

Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.

“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”

You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.

Steve thought you were adorable.

“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”

You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.

“‘Night, Grant.”

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.

Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.

This one was a peach.

-----

Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!

[baphometsss]

I've had these feelings about how the ancient elves really saw spirits for a while and I'm pretty sure, after finishing datv, that it wasn't too different to how most modern Thedosians see spirits i.e. not as people, but half-people or sub-people at best.

We know that the ancient elves were originally spirits, but even Mythal, 'the best of them', sees herself as being better than spirits. She herself says that she is the best of both worlds after building her body out of lyrium.

The thing that really sells it to me though is Solas's choice of the word 'creature' when he lambasts the Inquisitor for drinking from the Well of Sorrows. He says that they have given up a part of themselves. They are no longer fully the person they believe they are because a. they've given up some of their free will and b. they've given it to Mythal, who did this to him and others, so she could use them for her own ends--at the expense of their free will. They are her 'creature' because that is how Mythal will see them now. She will use them without even their knowledge. They are not a person, but a tool, a pet, an attack dog, a body to posess. He knows this because she did it to him and who knows how many others.

We know that Solas, regardless of the things he did later, fundamentally disagreed with this element of Elvhen society or at least the way the Evanuris saw spirits. Yes, they referred to spirits as their 'brethren of the sky' and had much more cordial relationships with them than modern Thedosians do, at least in the beginning. Yet it still seems like they lost this at some point (probably because they began to follow the Evanuris' example) and took slaves--of flesh, but also probably of spirit too. Felassan's line about them needing to be 'better than that' when Solas sacrifices the spirits is especially revealing of how the Elvhen had begun to see spirits at this point, as not much better than modern Thedosians do. Solas's willingness to sacrifice them represented the beginning his own descent to their level--towards his own corruption, the very thing he feared. In some ways, what the Elvhen did with spirits is worse because they actually know the truth of what spirits are.

The moment the Evanuris declared themselves gods, they were intentionally creating an unbalanced social hierarchy that flew in the face of all Solas believed in (which at this point can best be described as the elven equivalent of basic human rights for all intelligent and even semi-intelligent creatures). As Wisdom, he would've understood that as soon as you create that kind of imbalance, it is a slippery slope for all kinds of abuse. When he calls the Inquisitor Mythal's 'creature', he is referring to them in the way he knew Mythal and many of the Elvhen would've viewed them--no longer a person, but a tool that has been enslaved and bound to her will. Slavery, in the real world context (or at least the context of the legal framework that supports it), hinges on dehumanisation. There are a lot of books on monster theory etc that go into how this plays into various forms of oppression too. So in order for the Elvhen to take slaves of any kind, they would've had to fundamentally stop viewing them as people, as equals.

Cole's 'it's not abuse if I ask' and Solas's 'not always true' really becomes very poignant in this context. Just because the Inquisitor chose to drink from the Well, it doesn't make whatever Mythal does to them next non-abusive. The other problem is that, if you make a choice like that, you have to consider the context that it's made in. I'm reminded of Dorian's justification of slavery in DAI--that a poor person selling themselves into slavery is the preferable alternative to living in the streets. What he fails to realise at this point is that you can't justify a choice made in an impossible situation because if the choice is between your survival and living in bondage, it's not really a choice at all. It's become a necessity that shouldn't exist in a society that claims to be civilised.

There's this dialogue from King's Rising (Book Three of the Captive Prince trilogy by C.S. Pacat, that deals with sexual abuse/slavery in a historical fantasy context) that kind of explains this better than I do:

'‘When I argued the case for slavery in Arles you didn’t try to change my mind.’ ‘It is not a subject for an exchange of ideas. There is nothing to say.’ ‘There will be slaves in Akielos. We are a slave culture.’ ‘I know that.’ Damen said, 'Are pets and their contracts so different? Did Nicaise have a choice? 'He had the choice of the poor with no other way to survive, the choice of a child powerless to his elders, the choice of a man when his King gives him an order, which is no choice at all, yet still more than is afforded to a slave.'

For added context, 'pets' in Vere are slightly different to 'slaves' in that they serve pretty much exclusively as bed-slaves to specific nobles. It's described as being slightly better than general slavery because there are contracts involved, but in practice it's not much different because of the inherent power imbalance. Nicaise is also a child of about 14 or 15.

In other words, you always have to consider the context that this decision is made in. If the circumstances that led to someone making that choice are that desperate, it means that something else--the actions of others--are fostering it, and that is the root of the issue. The Evanuris forced countless spirits and elves into making these kind of impossible choices, because by Solas's own admission, Elvhenan was a deeply corrupt place, no better than Tevinter. This is why he rebelled, and in lambasting the Inquisitor for drinking from the Well, he is expressing his own frustration in seeing the same thing happen yet again. The Inquisitor drank because they faced an enemy who had just demonstrated an alarming level of power and willingness to commit evil and they were running out of options to defeat him. The entire world, not just them, was threatened. Thus, they lose their personhood, because in order to survive they must accept that survival in its most basic form--at the expense of a life truly lived as it should be, as their nature compels them to live it. Thus, in losing their personhood, the prerequisite for slavery has been met. This is when Mythal helps them--not before.

There's also some interesting discourse about how Solas's refusal to let go of his identity as a spirit and become more of a person possibly played a part in Mythal's (and the Evanuris') view of him. He's referred to as a lap dog, a dread wolf. An animal. Not a person. The way Mythal placates him is not simply that of a mother and child but of a master and their dog. So at some point, he decided that wasn't going to simply serve her as Wisdom anymore, because it was keeping him enslaved. He let go of the spirithood he loved and wanted to gain personhood, a choice he should never have had to make if it weren't for the actions of others. He chose to become a version of himself he hated because it was the only way he could stop the same thing happening to others.

Worse still, he wakes up after uthenera to see a world that has, in his mind, degraded even further from what it was--at his own hand. People are even further away from understanding what he wanted them to understand. Slavery still exists. Mages are confined to Circles while Templars hunt them down. Spirits are still mistreated. Personhood is still a matter of debate. His sacrifices and Mythal's death have had no positive long term effect. It was all for nothing. The world continues to be terrible, because nothing within it can stay fixed.

[writingfromasgard]

Hallo :3 ghostprice with nonbinary(afab) reader with price being rough with ghost and reader telling price he's being to mean?

Just a drabble request no pressure :]

this took way longer than i thought it would considering how little i wrote lmao

tw: hinted if you squinted GhostPrice, cliffhanger

Your approach to John's office with a bag of food as a peace offering for the conversation you needed to have after last night had your heart racing. The strong words and subsequent punishment he'd put Simon through over a snafu felt heavy on your chest. Your escort knocked politely on the office door, and a gruff "Come in." came from the other side.

"You have a visitor, Captain." The escort said, opening the door.

Your head poked around him, a smile on your lips as you held up the food bag. John's eyes glimmered with happiness, his lips curling up in the quokka smile you enjoy.

A few moments later, you were sat on the edge of his desk, watching him shuffle papers around to make room for the food.

"Pleasant surprise." He commented, leaning back in his chair. "You rarely come to see me at work."

"I rarely get to see you at work." You corrected.

"And when you do, it's -"

You held your hand up to stop him. "Food first."

He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh like it's an inconvenience. You strike when he's got a mouth full of food with a gentle tone.

"I don't like how you spoke to Simon last night."

He sent you a look, already caught on to your plan of forcing him to think your words over while he chews. You snag a breadstick, crunching down on it.

"He's used to it." John grunted, "He responds better when I talk to him like that. He knew what he was doing."

"At work." You remarked, eyes narrowed on him. "You agreed that you would be gentler with him at home when I'm around."

John remained silent for another beat before answering, "You would get it if you stayed the night."

You frowned at him, "How would that have changed anything?"

"Simon's a sight to behold when he's being put in his place."

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER NINE ▪︎ WE HAVE TO GET BACK (6.2k)

It took you almost all day to walk around the town and find the truck again. There's a note stuck in the windshield when you get there- it's from Chan, saying they're holed up in a school with some other survivors they met, a map with the location circled sitting in the driver's seat. You choose to sit with Han and Chaeryeong in the back, her head on your lap, and unshed tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Han says nothing, just holds her hand and watches the buildings pass by.

The school isn't far, taking under twenty minutes to get to. When you arrive, you can see it's defenseless, sitting in the open with no sign of life. None of the doors open. Minho bangs a fist on the last one in hopes someone will open it. There are noises beyond the doors, whispers and shuffling, what sounds like something being moved out of the way. The door swings open and you're quickly being ushered inside by someone you've never seen before, spotting Chan leaning in the doorway of a classroom to your left. Han enters behind you, still holding Chaeryeong bridal style, and Chan's arms drop from where they were crossed over his chest as he steps away from the doorway.

"What happened?" He's taking Chaeryeong from Han, lying her on the ground and taking in her lifeless body. "Jisung, what happened?"

Chan's voice is thick with emotion, hands tracing over her face and arms much like you and Han did when she fell. You kneel on the other side of her body, taking one of Chan's hands in yours, but he flinches away.

"She saved me," You whisper. Chan looks up at you, jaw clenched. "I'm sorry Chan. It should've-"

"Don't you dare say it should've been you." He grits. "It shouldn't have been anyone."

"What's going o-" Jeongin stops dead in the doorway Chan was just in. He's looking at Chaeryeong, but he's not really looking, his stare far off somewhere else.

No one speaks as the others join, Hyunjin and Felix kneeling down next to Chan by her head. Silent tears drip down Felix's cheeks, a reminder of how close they were. You can't imagine the pain he's in, that anyone around you is in; if it hurts this much for someone who's known Chaeryeong for less than a year, how much hurt are those who have known her so much longer feeling?

Minho clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I have an idea." When no one talks, he continues. "There's a field of cherry blossom trees not too far away from here. We can take her there, have a proper funeral."

"Old fashioned," Seungmin comments. "But I like it, she would love that."

"It's what she deserves." Your fingers graze her forearm, landing in her hand and holding it tightly. Despite what you've been taught, you let the tears fall when you look back at her face. She's cold, so cold. Although it's always sounded like bullshit to you, you can't help but hope she's in a better place now, somewhere not so scary and dangerous, somewhere she can be happy. There won't be a day that passes you won't think of her.

"Let us help you restock and get out." A woman behind you says, the same one who opened the door for you.

Leaving you alone in a room full of supplies, you begin to grab what you need. After everything you've been hit with these past few days, a total restock is very much needed. There are more weapons than you've seen since leaving the Quarantine Zone, reminding you of the massive weapons lockers kept underground in that old home. You don't wonder where these people got this sort of weaponry, but you find you don't care. Knowing your machete lies in the back of the truck under the seat, you only grab some sharp throwing knives to strap onto your chest and another two on your thigh. One knife sits sheathed and tucked away in a corner, almost like someone is hiding it for themselves, but the beauty doesn't miss your eye. It's dagger-like, the handle blue and pointed with dragonfly wings sticking out where the blade meets, adding a bit of weight to the little thing. You slide it onto your belt.

Once everyone has collected what they need, you're let out of the school. The kindness of these strangers won't be forgotten by you; you hope you live long enough to come back and thank them properly one day, or even become the kind stranger yourself.

Chan leads the group back to the truck, still too many people to fit inside. Jeongin offers to sit with Chaeryeong in the backseat, head on his lap, with Hyunjin driving and Seungmin in the passenger's side. You're sitting between Chan and Minho against the back window, Han tucked into his corner on the far side, and Changbin making small talk with Felix in between. Lily is across from them, watching the scenery go by quietly, but the look on her face tells you everything you need to know. Carefully, you crawl beside her despite Minho complaining you're taking his warmth.

"It's not your fault." You start, putting a hand up when Lily begins to protest. "Let me finish. It's not your fault Chaeryeong got hurt or that we got captured in the first place. You didn't choose to find Hannah, you didn't choose to have us follow you, you didn't choose any of this, so how could it be? We all knew the risks when we followed Chan out here. There was never a moment we thought it'd be easy." You sigh, leaning your head back with your eyes closed. "Of course, I'm being a hypocrite. I blame myself too."

"Why?" Lily asks. "Like you said, you didn't choose to be taken-"

"No, but I chose not to kill Officer Song when we should have, and now look what happened," You argue softly. "If I let Minho- if I didn't hesitate, she would still be alive."

"I know saying it's not your fault won't make you feel any better, but you still said it to me knowing the same," Lily says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's not your fault. None of this is."

For the rest of the ride, you sit next to Lily and make the occasional comment to her about things you pass. It's nearly the end of the day by the time you make it to the field, the sunset seeping through the tree branches and painting everything in a vibrant shade of orange. Chan had been smart to grab a few shovels from the school, him, Han, and Changbin all beginning to dig between two trees. You get to work on a makeshift grave marker, two sticks held onto a longer one with some string you found in the glove box to match your dragonfly dagger. You know she would have loved it and tried stealing it from you only to return it later that night. With some dirt and water, you cake on two dots on the top of the long stick to create eyes.

"Here, try this." Lily offers some string netting, tying it to the sticks to create wings. "Perfect, you did a great job Y/n."

The sun has gone down, and a cold wind has started up by the time the hole is finished being dug. You wipe the sweat off your forehead, having taken one of the last shifts, and climb out with the help of Hyunjin. Jeongin stands nearby with the raggedy blanket you kept on the backseat of the truck, placing it neatly on the ground. Seeing it laid out like this, you didn't realize quite how big it was, but Jeongin must have known. In the corner, you see the initials LC embroidered with pink thread standing out on the dirty yellow. Chan takes it upon himself to take Chaeryeong from the truck and set her on top, carefully folding the edges over to cover her completely. Once she's wrapped, he holds her torso and looks to whisper something in her ear before he hooks an arm under her legs. You watch him jump back into the hole, placing her body down one final time.

Each of you take turns saying something, anything to preserve her memory. By the end, there's no shame for you in seeing each other cry, even Minho and Seungmin having to turn around to avoid being seen. Moonlight seeps through the cherry blossom's branches, petals falling over her as you say your final goodbyes. It takes time to bury her, a team effort, and once you've thrown the last handful of dirt, you grab the grave marker.

"Jeongin," You say, turning to face him, holding the wooden piece out to him. "You should do it."

"M-me?" Jeongin stutters, pointing at himself.

"Just do it." You urge.

Hesitantly, he takes the marker from you and stands at the front of the dirt mound. Before digging it into the earth, Jeongin takes out a knife and carves her initials into the stick as best as he can. He chokes back a sob when it penetrates the ground, hanging his head so the tears don't drip down his cheeks.

Nobody talks on the ride out. Nobody is cracking jokes or commenting on the rain starting. Nobody acknowledges the sniffling coming from the back or the noises you have to make to keep from sobbing. Nothing is said, nothing is done; Chan is driving, and you're doing everything you can to hold it together.

-

"There."

A large sign greets you as you enter the coastal city on foot, your truck having broken down again a few kilometres back. Water comes up to your ankles, prominent flooding in the streets making it hard to walk. Hours pass before Lily points out the domed building she mentioned before, a big white stadium glowing in the gloomy atmosphere. There's still a distance between you and the dome, a large gap in the concrete falling into rushing water far below. Standing at the edge, you peer into the dark rapids and feel dizzy, but almost hypnotized.

Moving in the wind is a long, wooden bridge. It doesn't look the most stable, but it's your only choice to cross to the other side. Looking behind you, Lily moves first to go. The bridge is narrow, and she makes sure to hold onto both sides of the structure as she crosses. There are a few missing pieces she has to step over carefully, the bridge creaking and groaning as she walks slowly across. Once she makes it to the other side, Chan begins leading your group over a few at a time. Then it's just you, Han, and Felix. Felix is halfway across when you speak.

"Han, you go-" You nod, but he interrupts you.

"No," Han gestures his hand toward the bridge. "I'll go right after you, okay? I don't trust the wind not to push you down."

"What about you then? You'll risk your life?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Someone has to, and I'm not letting it be you again," He says, staying put by the end of the bridge, one hand resting on the railing.

"Promise me you'll join when I'm half way then, okay?" Han starts to protest, but you shake your head and hold up a hand. "Promise."

"Fine." He grumbles, nodding his head at the makeshift structure. "Just get on."

Rolling your eyes, you start the walk. It's a lot harder getting over than you thought it might be, the wind threatening to push you off the edge constantly, your body as low as it can be without laying down completely. At the halfway point you turn around and see Han has kept his promise, beginning his own trek. The rain makes it hard to see your final destination, but you think you can still see Felix holding onto the other side. With one arm in front of your face to shield your eyes from the oncoming rain, you persevere. There's a rock in the bridge that you assume is Han climbing on behind you, but when it rocks again, you realize it's the wind with a tightening of fear in your chest. With another gust, you're stopped in place clinging onto the wet wood desperately, one more and you're face first with a large gap in the planks. As you go to jump over, your foot slips.

Your scream is cut short, someone grabbing onto your arm at the last second before you can fall too far; Han. He's looking down at you with wide eyes, his hair and the hood of his jacket obscuring his face and covering it from the harsh weather. With his body completely flat on the bridge, he's struggling to try and pull you up, wet hand slipping into yours. There's panic evident in his face, enough to match the feeling in yourself. So many close calls with zombies and what's going to take you out is a wet bridge, like, c'mon. You can hear shouting, but neither you nor Han can bear to rip your eyes away from each other as you continue to sway and slip further down. In a last effort to save you, Han swings his other arm over to clutch your forearm, beginning to pull you up, Felix joining on the other side. He has his hand out, ready to try grabbing either of you in case of a fall, despite the distance. Right when you think you're in the clear, a huge gust of wind causes your body to shift in Han's grip, and you fall.

Someone shouts from above, your fingers slipping from Han's as he tries to grab you again. Now you're face to face with him; he slipped trying to grab you. There's another figure above you, and you feel your heart drop.

Water overtakes you, plummeting deep into the rushing waves of this apocalypse-made river, the force tearing you and Han away from each other. You're struggling to resurface with the speed you're going, the freezing cold temperature bone-deep, causing your movements to become stiff and sluggish. You feel yourself hit something in the water, holding on and using it to help you climb above the water. As soon as your head pops up, you're taking a huge gasp and taking in your surroundings. Not too far down, there's a laundry wire connected by two crumbling buildings, low enough for you to grab onto if you propel yourself in the right direction. Kicking off from whatever it is you're holding, too much of it underneath to tell what is is exactly, you launch yourself toward the wire. The rapids make it difficult to stay above water, but you reach a hand up and latch onto the wire with one hand, stretching with a shout to grab onto it with another.

There's a body coming toward you, and even with the water flushing into your vision, you can tell who it is. Han sees you and copies your previous movements, holding onto the wire next to you. Before either of you can try and use it to get to dry land, you spot someone else coming your way and squint in the darkening atmosphere- it's Felix. He's in and out of the water, clearly disoriented, and you know he won't be able to grab on. Looking over to Han, you make a silent plan and both reach out between you, barely catching underneath Felix's arms as he passes between you two. With weak arms, he grabs the wire in the spot above him and follows you up as you begin your ascent. It's hard, using all of your upper body strength to reach the balcony it's attached to, only slightly easier once your whole body has been uncovered by water.

Inside, you collapse on the broken stone balcony and heave, but nothing comes up. You crawl inside through the broken glass doors of the apartment, but as soon as you do, something is launching itself at you and pinning you to the ground. With a surge of adrenaline, you're able to keep the zombie from sinking its teeth into your skin, one hand on each of its shoulders. Throwing it off of you, it quickly regains speed and twists toward you again, and you barely roll out of the way. It crashes into a TV stand and knocks a plant down, but it doesn't seem phased as it spins around and hisses at you. Taking your new dagger from your hip, you stand and ready yourself for the next attack as you see Felix and Han stumble into the building, still outside the doors. That second is all it takes for the zombie to take advantage, running at you and throwing you against a bookshelf. You cry out, dropping the dagger. Ducking down, you avoid another attack and pick up your weapon, slashing the zombie's Achilles heel as you get back up, one final stab to the forehead. It goes limp, falling at your feet, and you collapse again in exhaustion.

"Y/n!" Despite his matching exhaustion, Han drops down by your side as you fall. Helping you lean against the bedframe, he looks you over.

Felix joins you, sitting on your other side. There's a trail of blood going down his ear from his hair, nearly covering his ear as well. When you all fell in the water, he must have hit his head on something- hard.

"Felix, your head-" You reach a sluggish arm over to inspect it, and he hisses at the contact.

"I'll be fine. Mild concussion at best." Felix cups your hand with his, bringing it back down. "I can use some of the sheets off the bed to wrap my head. Are you okay?"

"Yeah... yeah, I think so." You nod, eyes falling to the floor. "Just tired."

Examining the room, you see the state of it is less worn than most apartments. You have to assume it's from the flooding- nobody is coming in or out of these buildings. It's a bedroom, that much is clear, with a simple bed and dresser across from it, a broken TV hanging from the wall. Not much personality, maybe belonging to someone who had long since moved out prior to the outbreak.

"Give me a minute, then we can go when you're ready," Felix says, his voice soft.

He moves from next to you, and you can hear him messing with the old sheets and blankets behind you as you lean your head against he plush surface of the mattress. Han stays crouched by your side, and you can feel his stare on you.

"I'm fine, you don't have to watch me." You open your eyes, head rolling to look at him. "Everything's just caught up, I guess. I haven't had the chance to rest in over a day."

"But we stopped at that house-" Han starts, but you shake your head.

"I kept patrolling, just in case. Chan did too... he's probably in a similar state to me right now." Sitting up straighter, you look outside to see the weather has calmed; you must have traveled far. "He's probably worried sick, but at least he'll have his sister."

"If they weren't lying." Han stands, distrust clear in his voice. "They might not even really have Hannah."

He's right, and you know he is, but the thought of Lily lying to you about Hannah doesn't feel right. Felix comes back around the bed, a makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around his head and under his bangs. It really just looks like a type of bandana. Reaching a hand down, Felix helps you stand up. Although you're a bit dizzy on your feet, you know you need to power through. That is, until Han places a hand on your shoulder.

"You need to rest," He says, and you almost think he looks... concerned. "Seriously, we can't have you looking like you're about to pass out."

"But-" You start, but Felix cuts you off.

"No, no buts. He's right." Felix pushes you down lightly by the shoulder to sit you on the edge of the bed. "All of us could use a minute to breathe after all that."

With a reluctant sigh, you lie down on the bed, watching as the other two leave the room. Listening closely, all you can hear are noises of furniture being moved- in front of the front door, you assume. No more yelling or inhuman sounds, a good sign. It takes everything in you to not join them, forcing yourself to get as comfortable as you can on this hard rock of a mattress.

After a while, the sky begins to dim. You watch through the window from the bed as the sun lowers, pinks and oranges painting the scenery. It's beautiful, truly, and you once again find yourself wondering what life might have been like before. Could you see yourself living in a little apartment like this, with friends or by yourself, watching the sunset without worry? Could you picture yourself coming home and kicking your shoes off, relaxing with a hot meal and a movie as you wind down for the night? It all seems so far away; a life that was never meant for you. No, you're built for survival, for dangerous wilds and not knowing what will come next. This is what your brain is hardwired for, although, it would be nice to just live. You lean over the bed, taking the stuffed monkey from your bag.

-

It's completely dark by the next time you open your eyes. There's a shift of weight at the end of the bed, and you blink to see Han sitting down looking at something in his hands. Leaning up, you see what looks like a little box in his hand, part of it glowing a light blue.

"What is that?" You ask, voice thick with sleep.

Han turns around, clearly startled that you're awake. He clears his throat and turns his body to face you better.

"An MP3 player. You didn't have these in the QZ?" You shake your head. "Oh. It plays music, but I don't use it often so it doesn't die on me. There's only one song on it, wanna hear?"

He passes you a little pod attached to a wire and you take it, placing it in your ear like he has the other. After a beat of silence, you hear a guitar start to play, then vocals. More instruments join the melody, and you find yourself shifting to sit next to Han on the edge of the bed. The music vibrates through your body as the song continues, the emotion coursing through you. You can see why he likes it so much. Once the song finishes, you're disappointed there isn't more. Han wraps the little wired pods around the device and pockets it; that must be his one thing, you think.

"I liked it," You say softly, looking down at his hands.

"I listen to it when things seem impossibly difficult. Like, we don't know if we'll make it back to the others, or if they're okay, or what is going to happen to us." Han leans back on his palms, looking up to the ceiling with a soft exhale, but you can tell his own words are getting to him. "What if something's already happened to the others and we never got to even say goodbye-"

"Stop." You say suddenly. Han looks at you, confused. "No what-ifs, okay? You're going to drown in them."

You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. He's looking at you, really looking at you, and it takes everything in you to keep your eyes locked on his when his gaze is so intense. Han gives you a light nod, then stands with your hand still in his, helping you up from the hard bed. The sound of rushing water fades as you leave the bedroom with the broken glass doors and enter a near pristine- for the apocalypse- living area.

Felix is lying on a red sofa that's pushed against the far wall with his back faced to you, seemingly asleep. When he rolls over upon hearing you enter the room, it startles you slightly. None of you talk as he gets up and grabs his bag from the other side of the sofa, silently making the decision to leave before the sun comes up. There's already a familiar light blue tinge to the edge of the sky as you take one final glance out the window, a sigh escaping your lips. How nice it would be to live in a place like this; how nice it would be to love in a place like this.

As you descend down a few staircases, it becomes clear you'll have to find another way out of this building. The lower levels are completely flooded, causing you to groan in frustration. How are you supposed to get around this?

"Look." Felix's voice breaks your frustrated thoughts, and you look to where he's pointing out of a broken stairwell window. "Across the water- those people."

People? You crouch down by the window, thankful for the greenery coming down in vines to allow some cover. Through the plants, you spot someone tying a boat to what looks like a makeshift dock, another person by their side. It's hard to see what they look like, over-sized cloaks drawn over their heads in the already dim lighting, but you swear one of them has orange hair. As you peek through, you can see them talking before entering the building the dock is connected to. It looks to be some kind of old storefront, and you can't help wondering if that's where they live.

"Crazy idea, but what if we take their boat?" Han whispers his suggestion, looking down at you from where he's standing beside the window.

"We can't do that!" Felix whispers back from the other side of you. "We're not that desperate."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like a pretty good idea to me." You shake your head, unable to believe you're siding with Han on this. "How else can we get back to the others? Walking on water?"

"Okay, okay!" Felix huffs, frustrated, but he knows you're right.

"Wait, Y/n." Han pulls you up by your arm and you make a noise in protest. Bringing you aside, he lowers his voice. "Swimming- you can't."

You blush, having forgotten the obvious. "It's a short distance, I'll be fine. Besides, I can hang off of you if I need to."

"Or," Felix steps in; the small space makes it impossible to not overhear. "We can get the boat and drive it over here before making a run for it. You'll have to be ready to hop in though."

Biting your lip, you think it over. By doing this, you won't slow them down or accidentally give away your position due to your lack of swimming skills. It's a tough call, not wanting to be separated no matter how small of a distance, but you know what to do.

"Fine," You sigh. "I'll be here."

Felix nods and makes his way out of the window, a small splash following his departure. Han is quick to follow, but pauses as he swings a leg over the edge, looking back at you. He nods his head, and you walk over to him, leaning against the wall.

"You're sure you'll be okay here?" Han asks, looking away briefly.

"Yeah, I will be," You swallow, unsure why you feel so warm all of a sudden; maybe it's nerves from the thought of being alone. "Be careful out there. Both of you."

You raise your voice a bit for Felix to hear, and Han chuckles lightly with another nod. Swinging his other leg over, Han looks back at you like he wants to say something else, his expression hard to read. Clearly thinking better of it, he looks back out across the water and takes a final breath before joining Felix below. For the brief moment he's under the water, you can feel yourself holding your breath until he surfaces. Staying crouched, you watch as they make their way over as quietly as possible.

As soon as Felix's fingers touch the side of the boat, you spot the two people exiting the building. The orange-haired one is holding some kind of parcel, laughing at something his friend must has said inside. Panic seizes you when you realize Felix and Han can't see them from their side of the boat, so you do the only thing you can think of- you whistle, high-pitched and loud enough for them to hear. This catches their attention, but also the attention of the others, and you duck down immediately. Silence- that's all you hear for a long time; you can't tell if that's good or bad. It's only when you hear what sounds like the boat engine turn on and fade into the distance that you can dare to glance out the window.

No one is there, and you feel your heart drop out of your ass. Without thinking, you lunge over the edge of the broken window and drop gracelessly into the water below. Again, panic threatens you as you plunge into the cold water, but you don't allow it to take over. You surface, gasping for air, hair sticking to your face uncomfortably as you make your way over to where Felix and Han disappeared. The water is deep, making it difficult for you to keep your head above as you clumsily swim cross to the dock. You're almost there- but your limbs prove to still be tired from the last few days, and you slip underneath the surface. Your body's first instinct is to fight, arms grabbing at the water in slow motion as you claw back to the top. You were so close.

A hand wraps around your forearm, yanking you onto solid land. As your body connects with the hard ground, you scramble away and almost back into the water before another hand grabs your upper arm. With your hair in your face like this, it's hard to see who it is, so you kick out your legs and are met with a familiar 'oof'.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Han is doubled over, holding his stomach. "Don't kick me! I was trying to help you!"

"Sorry, sorry!" You stand quickly, finding Felix soaking wet behind Han. "Where'd you guys go? I looked up and you were gone!"

"We went along the edge and surfaced over there-" Felix points a little further away to a spot covered in foliage. "-then stayed hidden until those guys left. Jisung was going to go back to you, but then we saw you fall in the water."

"I didn't- I didn't fall." You huff, looking away as a slight warmth comes across your cheeks. "I just... dived clumsily."

"Whatever you want to call it." Jisu- Han says to you, a small smirk on his face. "We should get inside though, those guys could come back. They might not be happy if this is like, their territory or something."

Felix nods, already making his way inside the storefront. The door is long gone, only splintered wood hanging off the doorway as a reminder of one once being there. Inside, it's just like any other storefront you've been in before- broken glass across the counter, tables and chairs overturned, drawers opened and empty. Everything is normal to you save for a smaller table tucked into a corner, two stools shoved underneath.

As you get closer, you can see papers strewn across the table, a leather bound journal sitting on top. Opening the journal, you can see names and dates- these people know the date?- written out on each page, going to about halfway through the pages until you get to what you assume is today. There's a small note- 'disturbance in east end by dome, check out later with bigger crew'. Disturbance? They must mean you and the others, the bridge and whatever else could have happened while you were being swept away by the river.

"Guys, check this out," You call over your shoulder. When the neither Han nor Felix answer, you look to see yourself alone. Again.

"I'm getting real sick of this." You mutter to yourself, heading up the only way they could have gone- the staircase on the opposite side of the store.

Making sure to grab the journal, you make your way up quietly, just in case. The upper doorway is covered by a thinning sheet, and you can just barely make out two figures behind it. Felix's voice carries slightly, and you find yourself stopping right before the doorway, out of sight but still in hearing range. You know you shouldn't be doing this, but-

"Just ask her?" Felix laughs slightly, but he almost sounds exasperated. "Really, it can't be that hard. It's not like you're in lo-"

"Shut up!" Han scolds, and you smile at the thought of his face turning red. "It's not that simple. I don't even think that kind of thing crosses her mind since all that other shit went down."

He then speaks in a quieter voice, followed by a sigh from Felix. This feels wrong, eavesdropping on them, so you enter the room.

The room is smaller than the lower level, some ratty seats in the shape of blobs you assume must have been more plush back in this place's heyday. It seems to be some sort of hang out spot- boxes of board games lining one of the walls, some sort of device connected to the TV hanging off another. Han notices you first, back straightening as he kicks off the windowsill he was leaning on.

"Found something?" He clears his throat, trying to act casual; you give him a look.

"I think so. Look," You extend the journal in one hand. "Entries dating back weeks, maybe months. Confirms we're on someone's territory, and we might want to get out quickly."

"What makes you say that?" Felix grabs the journal tentatively. He flips through a few pages before you can formulate an answer. "Basic patrol checkpoint, like we had back home... ah." He leans over to show Han. "Naevis spotted? Then they wrote 'plan attack'. Okay, so maybe not the friendliest people..."

"Shouldn't we also be worried about whoever 'Naevis' is referring to?" Han looks up, catching your eye; why does your heartbeat feel faster? "They must be having some kind of turf war- not something we want to be apart of."

You shake your head. "No, you're right. Whoever these people are, we need to leave soon-"

Your eyes drop down as Felix turns another page and a slip of folded up paper drops to the ground by Han's feet. Picking it up, he's quick to unfold it. The paper grows tenfold, a decently sized map forming before your eyes. With no table up here, so Han lays it out on the ground between the three of you. You and Felix crouch down, taking a look.

There are dozens of red circles around the map- areas of interest? Places on the route? The latter is confirmed when you see where you must be- a small place called 'Berry's Lounge' circled across from the apartments you came through. You hold back a dry laugh when you see said apartments labeled as 'No go- infected'. You suppose you're lucky, not having run into many in there considering it was enough of an issue for these people to mark it down. Quite a bit away from your location, there's a large white building circled in blue. A sense of unease washes over you as you point it out.

"Is that the dome?" You ask, voice low.

No one answers for a moment, and it's like you can feel the other two go still by your side. Felix clears his throat. "We should get going."

"How?" Han looks up from where he was staring at the map, out of the temporary daze. "We traveled really far. There's no way we'll make it there in time."

You don't like the way he's phrased that- in time, like there's something imminent that will determine the fate of your friends. Shaking your head, you begin to fold up the map again, but a hand flies out to stop you from doing so. Felix's fingers dance across the paper, landing on another circled area in red-

"Naevis boat port," Felix says, almost breathless. "It's not far, looks like... an hour by foot? We can get there, steal a boat, and get back to the others."

Frowning, you continue folding the map once Felix takes his hand away. The plan is risky, but you know there aren't many options in this scenario. It's either you spend several days trying to get back to where the others may or may not be, or you risk your lives stealing a boat to get back before the next morning. The choice is obvious.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

notes ▪︎ how are we feeling about these new groups coming into play !!! yes they are inspired by tlou pt 2 cause i love those games 😜 n e way. what do you think will happen with them?

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie @8lives1heart @skzswife @emi-han @alisonyus

green means i can't tag you!

[theredhairedmonkey]

What Dark Callum Means

And what it doesn't.

So, I think it's worth discussing what the appearance of this particular guy at this point of the series means and symbolizes, as I'm sure many people are going to have a field day with his.

And by "this particular guy," I mean Dark Callum.

Who, funny enough, is actually still more reasonable and moral than the psychopathic gremlin known as "snake boi callum" found across the fandom (as he acknowledges that he loves and cares for more people than just Rayla and Ezran), but I digress. In particular, I think what some fans are zeroing in on is that the show confirms (and it actually does confirm) that there’s always been this part of Callum that is willing to abandon his sense of right and wrong for the sake of those he loves.

But...that actually plays to the larger part of this season's themes in a way that ends up enriching Callum's position as the show's moral center. Let me explain why.

Book Dark (i.e. season 7) is about the loss of innocence, told not just through symbolism (the Garden of Innocents being where Unicorns went to die being a bit on the nose) but directly by Aaravos:

Aaravos: All children have a true heart. But as we grow up, we are forced to take choices, sacrifices, compromises. And they change us forever. Childhood innocence gives way to something...complicated.

The fact that Ezran is shown here as Aaravos speaks is not a coincidence - no matter how pure, life wears all of us down.

Then Aaravos' next speech contextualizes this further - not having a dark side isn't an attribute of goodness, but innocence. Eventually, all of us develop a dark side, and inevitable outgrowth of being forced to make compromises, harsh decisions, and sacrifices.

Aaravos: The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world's beauty in a simple way. Terrestrius, you were lucky and held that innocent wonder longer than most. I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks inside all of us beside the light. There is no black and white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. But please believe me that there is beauty in this burden. Your heart will be a little heavier. But now, there will be no more half-truths, Terrestrius. Together, we will do what must be done. However dangerous. However vile.

It is worth pointing out how many people are shown together with the quote about "humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks inside of all of us." So when Callum meets Dark Callum, who tells him he's always been inside him even before he used dark magic, we shouldn't be surprised.

But his appearance actually tells us something different - that Callum had not yet accepted him. That the Callum we have been seeing throughout the show is not the one who would do whatever he had to for his loved ones "however dangerous, however vile."

And that is the critical part here, and why despite seeing the world as Aaravos does, understanding the need for compromises, Callum nevertheless opposes him - being good isn't about lacking the capacity for darkness, but about choosing what to do with that capacity. Callum's strength isn't that he never feels the pull to abandon principles for love, but that he develops the wisdom to channel that impulse in ways that ultimately serve good rather than evil.

In short, he sees the world as Aaravos does...yet chooses differently.

Consider how this differs from Aaravos's prediction. Aaravos sees this willingness to compromise for love and assumes it must lead down the same path of progressive moral erosion that he took. What he misses is that acknowledging this capacity doesn't mean surrendering to it entirely. Callum shows that you can recognize this part of yourself while still choosing how to express it.

This makes Callum's role as a moral center more complex and meaningful. He's not a moral center because he lacks dark impulses or the willingness to break rules for love - he's a moral center because he shows us how to acknowledge these aspects of ourselves while still making choices that serve rather than destroy our principles.

[inell]

2024 Fic Round Up

I was tagged by @exhuastedpigeon & @rainbow-nerdss . This took me longer than expected but here it is. In 2024, I was able to break out of a block when I discovered a new fandom and fell in love with Buddie. I’m hoping that my writing beans return to me asap & 2025 is another great writing year for me. 🤞

A huge thank you to everyone who has read my fic this year, who have left comments and kudos and recced my words to others. It’s truly appreciated! Meeting new friends, reuniting with old friends, and continuing great relationships with mutuals and followers who are also into 911 has helped keep me inspired and creative.

Total fics written in 2024: 109

Words written in 2024: 552,421

April

Nightcap. Buck/Tommy. Adult. WC: 4366 After their first date goes a bit astray, Buck invites Tommy to his loft for a nightcap.

A Subway Ride. Bucky/Stiles. Teen. WC: 3030. Bucky and Stiles take the subway to Grand Central and have a talk on their way to meet Tony and the rest of the team.

Regrouping. Bucky/Stiles. Teen. WC: 4440. Stiles and Bucky find out what Jarvis has learned, and the team takes time to regroup.

Eyes Wide Open. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 3365. Tommy drops by and wants to talk, which has Buck drawing some wrong conclusions.

A Six Pack and an Ambush. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2500. Eddie has been avoiding him, so Buck ambushes him to find out why.

A New Chapter. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Teen. WC: 5450. Buck goes to Tommy’s house expecting bros night with Eddie. Instead, Tommy and Eddie have a surprise for him.

The Twelfth Date. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2100. Buck and Tommy go hiking on their twelfth date. Feelings are revealed.

Revelations. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Adult. WC: 2750. It’s a hot summer afternoon, and Buck is watching Eddie and Tommy work on a car when he accidentally says something out loud that changes their relationships.

A Surprise Visitor. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2521. Buck gets a surprise visitor when Tommy shows up after his shift.

Prize For the Night. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Adult. WC: 4505. When Tommy and Eddie get super competitive playing poker, Buck finds himself becoming part of their bet.

Hole in One. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2000. Buck and Eddie have a life-changing conversation during a game of mini-golf.

Mr. July. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5400. It’s time for the annual hot firefighter calendar to begin shooting, and Buck and Eddie are surprised to learn that they’ve both been selected to be Mr. July.

Surrounded By Idiots. Chimney & Buck. WC: 1700. During a ride with the team, Buck asks Chimney a question

Normal is Overrated. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2455. Buck and Tommy join Eddie for drinks, and a confession is made that changes their relationship.

Something Special. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 3825. Buck surprises Tommy with lunch during a shared day off.

Gonna Need a Miracle. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3970. Eddie is working an overtime shift when they get a call about a MVA with injuries. When they arrive and he sees Buck’s Jeep, he comes to a few realizations.

Resisting Temptation. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2420. When Christopher calls Buck to come check on Eddie, Buck isn’t expecting to have to resist temptation.

Finding Home. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 3270. While Buck takes a shower, Eddie uses his laptop to order some food. Only he finds something surprising in the open browser window that changes their relationship.

A Theory. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2830. Buck expects to have a fun night of bowling with Tommy and Eddie. Instead, Eddie gets an attitude, and Tommy has a theory.

Connect the Dots. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 10,560. “Let’s see how much we can get away with before they open their eyes and realize we’re together,” Buck says, moving his hand up Eddie’s arm to cup his jaw.

“If this backfires, I’m gonna blame you,” Eddie says, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss against his mouth. “But I’m in.”

Take a Leap. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 1405. Tommy and Buck have their first argument, which leads to a serious conversation.

Don’t Walk Away. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4000. When Buck starts avoiding Eddie after injuring him during a basketball game, May forces him to get out and have some fun.

Salvation. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2965. During the past few months, Eddie has learned a lot about himself and the true nature of his feelings for Buck.

It Takes Time. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 1590. Tommy knows that there’s still a lot that he and Evan don’t know about each other.

Best Laid Plans. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 6735. Buck goes to karaoke night with Maddie and Josh to distract himself from his jealousy over Eddie’s new friendship. His plan doesn’t work when Eddie shows up at the bar with Tommy , so he comes up with another plan—this one involving Josh and a fake date.

A Little Bruised. Buck & Maddie. Teen. WC: 2150. After Tommy breaks up with him, Maddie comes over to give Buck some big sister comfort.

Bright Like the Sun. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4800. A routine call causes Eddie to make some decisions that help him move his relationship with Buck to the next level.

Breathless. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2775. Chaperoning a middle school dance isn’t how Buck expects to spend his night off, but he can’t ever say no to Eddie.

Never Felt Luckier. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2301. After the 118 has a tough night, Tommy takes care of Buck and Eddie.

Where He Belongs. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3575. Christopher surprises Eddie with a conversation about life and happiness, which encourages Eddie to take a risk regarding his relationship with Buck.

First of Many. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2630. While the 118 is on a rescue mission, Eddie and Buck share a moment that changes their relationship.

Dinner and a Show. Buck/Eddie/Tommy. Adult. WC: 5500. Buck has been dating Eddie and Tommy separately for months. Tonight, they’re finally coming together as three, and he’s got it all planned.

Unexpected Proposition. Buck & Ravi. Buddie. Teen. WC: 3050. When Buck picks up an extra shift, Ravi gets pushy and helps him realize a few things about himself and his feelings about Eddie.

May

Orange Crush. Buck/Connor. Adult. WC: 3500. After losing Devon at the roller coaster, Buck is having trouble sleeping and dealing with the failure of his caller dying. Connor offers to help him relax so he can sleep.

Downtime. Eddie & Hen. Buddie. Teen. WC: 3100. It’s a quiet day at the station when Hen checks in with Eddie, unexpectedly leading him to talk to Buck about his feelings.

Two Plus Two Equals Five. Buck & Chimney. Teen. WC: 4530. A couple of days after Chim and Maddie get married, Buck goes to visit Chim in the hospital and fill him in on everything he missed.

SOS. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 6000. When Eddie receives a SOS text from Buck asking for his help, he isn’t expecting for a sex toy mishap to lead to them admitting their feelings for each other.

Like a Bronte Heroine. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3900. Eddie keeps getting lost in his thoughts while waiting for Buck to come over to watch the game.

Weather the Storm. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3700. The morning after they confess their love, Eddie and Buck navigate telling Christopher about their relationship.

Special Couple Smile. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2700. During a rough shift, Eddie and Buck find some time to talk and have a moment together.

A Good Surprise. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4050. When Buck gets back to the station after an appointment, Bobby tells him there’s a surprise waiting for him upstairs.

Dilemma. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2840. Buck and Eddie go for coffee after their shift.

Distorted. Eddie/Kim. Adult. WC: 1185. Eddie goes to Kim’s house after a second date, and he realizes he’s fucked up.

Love Dares You to Change. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 7650. After realizing that Abby isn’t coming back, Buck goes to a club to find someone to share his night. He ends up meeting Eddie, who changes his world.

Stir Crazy. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2070. When Buck has to take medical leave for a few days, he gets so bored that he finally reads a book he’s had buried in his closet while waiting for Eddie to come over.

You and Me Forever. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 7900. When Buck gets struck by lightning and enters a coma dream, he chooses to go back to the real world, even though Eddie doesn’t know that they’re soulmates.

Paint the Sky. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2200. Buck and Eddie take Christopher and his friends to play paintball.

A Little Cliché. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3000. Buck takes Eddie to a lake for a relaxing day that leads to them confessing their feelings for each other.

Afternoon Coffee. Buck/Tommy. Teen. WC: 2600. Tommy wakes up in Evan’s bed and reflects on their relationship.

Brain Fog. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3000. When Buck has the flu, Eddie comes over to help take care of him. Too much cough medicine leads to an unplanned confession.

Before Dinner Snack. Buck/Tommy. WC: 3002. Tommy has Evan over for date night, and Evan’s craving a snack before they order dinner.

Catch My Fall. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5330. During a search to find a missing hiker, Buck and Eddie get trapped and feelings get admitted.

June

Bullseye. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5100. After another awful shift with Gerrard, Buck is surprised when one of the captain’s verbal attacks actually bothers him. Eddie offers him support and makes a confession during the commute home.

Man Down. Buck & Ravi. Buddie. Teen. WC: 4365. During a warehouse fire, Ravi and Buck work together and have a talk about their current circumstances and possible future.

Chance Encounter. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3330. When Eddie and Buck go to the Hollywood Farmer’s Market, Eddie doesn’t expect to run into his ex-wife for the first time since moving to LA two years ago.

Take the Lead. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 1300. Buck and Eddie finally have a conversation that they’ve needed to have for months, if not years.

Plenty of Time. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2800. Buck died, and it turned Eddie’s world upside down. Now, a week after Buck returns to work, he’s dozing on Eddie’s couch, and Eddie’s waiting for a sign.

Being Selfish. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4075. It’s been a little more than six weeks since Eddie’s life became a chaotic mess. Luckily, he’s had Buck’s support and constant presence to help him get through it.

Walk With Me Out on the Wire. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3800. Chris has been gone for two weeks, and Eddie is handling it as well as he can, but Buck refuses to let him deal with it on his own.

All of Me. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2550. Buck has been there for Eddie during the nearly three months since Chris went to Texas. Eddie is in a good place and makes a confession that changes their relationship.

One Look at You. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4000. Eddie and Buck are enjoying a night out when lines get blurred and feelings are finally admitted.

A Love as True as Mine. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4300. After Buck gets injured during a call, he overcomes some personal issues and ideas of love with Eddie’s help.

Cursebreaker. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4450. Buck is nervous about his apparent dating curse ruining his first date with Eddie. Lucky for him, Eddie doesn’t believe in curses.

The Moment is Here. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2550. Eddie has been in love with Buck for longer than he cares to remember but he’s been scared to jeopardize their friendship. Lucky for him, Buck is feeling brave this morning.

July

A Good Time Not a Long Time. Buck/Connor. Teen. WC: 3200. Buck and Connor have been casually having sex while Buck’s enrolled at the fire academy. When he decides to try to take their relationship to the next level, he realizes that he and Connor aren’t on the same page at all.

I Can See Clearly Now. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4800. During a simple call, Buck finds himself locked in a lab after a possible exposure with Eddie and the rest of his team on the other side of the glass doors.

Talk to Me. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5505. Buck takes Eddie camping to get away from the city when Chris is in Texas. During the hike to their campsite, they talk about the past and realize they have a future together.

And There You Were. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4200. After admitting their feelings for each other and spending the night together, Eddie wakes up to find Buck in the kitchen and decides to distract him.

Kismet. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5810. When an old friend asks him for a favor, Eddie temporarily trades his turnouts for a camera to help film a reality dating show. He certainly doesn’t expect to fall in love with Buck, the star of the show, though.

A Promise Made is a Promise Kept. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 52,036. When the 118 gets called to a multi-vehicle accident, Buck doesn’t expect to find a familiar face amidst the wreckage, and he makes a promise that ends up altering the course of his life. Fortunately, he has Eddie and his family to help, but he soon realizes that his relationship with Eddie is also changing.

Sparks Fly. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 570. Eddie meets his match when reporter Buck shadows the 118.

Seeing Stars. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 715. Buck and Eddie are best friends who have been pining for a while when Buck finally makes a move.

Go For the Gold. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 1600. It’s the last Olympics that Buck will be part of, and Eddie doesn’t want to lose him.

The New Probie. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2300. Eddie and the rest of A shift don’t know that Bobby’s hired a new probie until he meets his new partner, Evan ‘just call me Buck’ Buckley.

Eternal Flame. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 2700. Buck and Eddie are part of the California Interagency Hotshot Crew, and they’ve been friends for years. When they’re trapped in the middle of a raging wildfire, the extent of their feelings are revealed.

August

Sketches of You. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 8100. After Christopher went to El Paso, Eddie’s had a lot of time to think while also rediscovering his interest in drawing. He’s finally ready to tell Buck how he feels about him in the best way he knows how—through his art.

I’m Yours. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 6105. While helping Eddie do some home renovations while Chris is in El Paso, Buck has been encouraging him to make choices based on what he wants. Eddie applies that lesson to their relationship and decides to be selfish for once.

How Our Story Ends. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 6100. When Buck and Eddie are sent into an apartment building that’s on fire to search for squatters, Eddie finds himself in a situation where he prays that the universe is actually real and listening to him.

Choosing You. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3105. Eddie has been patiently waiting for Buck to be ready to take their relationship to the next level. After a couple of months, Buck realizes that the ball is in his court.

Learning to Compromise. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4050. Buck and Eddie moved in together two weeks ago, and they’re learning how to compromise about the things that never came up until they were living together. Case in point, preferred grocery store for their weekly shopping trip.

First Date Nerves. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 5140. Buck and Eddie are on their first date, both nervous about taking their friendship to the next level. Neither one wants the date to end, though, so they continue it at Eddie’s house.

Perfect Fit. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3110. Buck drops by to talk to Eddie after his break up with Tommy ends up with an unexpected offer. Eddie realizes that it’s time for him to finally make his move before it’s too late.

Keep Holding On. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3230. When a rescue goes wrong, Buck and Eddie find themselves in danger and feelings get admitted.

The Way to a Man’s Heart. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5400. When Eddie texts Buck to ask him over for dinner, Buck thinks something odd is going on, but nothing prepares him for what Eddie has planned.

No Regrets. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 4800. Buck and Eddie’s relationship changes with an impulsive kiss during a rerun of Chopped. It’s now a few hours later, and Buck wants to make sure that Eddie doesn’t have any regrets

Crazy For You. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 4600. While hanging out watching a baseball game & drinking beer, Eddie shares his honest opinions regarding Buck’s relationship. Four days later, he confronts Buck to find out why he’s been avoiding him since then.

Kindred Spirits. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 73,280. Eddie has been a member of Paranormal Research Group for nearly four years after being recruited during one of their investigations. During that time, he’s found a job he enjoys, created a family that cares about him, become an unwilling reality TV star, and fallen in love with his best friend and partner, Buck. The team is traveling across the country filming the second season of their hit reality show, Haunted Case Files, and Eddie’s unknowingly going to find his skepticism challenged when Buck sets out to prove that there’s such a thing as destiny and fate, and that some things are meant to be.

Sealed with a Kiss. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 8100. When Buck goes to the beach to get away from Abby’s empty apartment, he ends up saving a kid from drowning. He isn’t expecting to meet Christopher’s father, Eddie, who also happens to be Buck’s soulmate.

September

Perfect Opportunity. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 8000. Buck and Eddie are working a shift together several weeks after their relationship became something more than just friends. It’s after midnight when Buck finds the perfect opportunity for them to make one of his fantasies come true.

Constant Craving. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 7800. Buck and Eddie have recently started dating, and it’s their third official date. While playing a game of pool, they make a little wager, and Buck gets to indulge a craving he’s had for years.

A Possible Connection. Bucky/Stiles. Teen. WC: 6205. Bucky has to go to Poland with Natasha to pick up Clint, and Stiles finally finds a clue that might help connect Carrie Hill with Tommy Mata.

Friendly Advice. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 6800. When Ravi asks Buck and Eddie to have dinner with him, they don’t expect him to ask them for advice on how they remained friends after breaking up. The issue? They’ve never been a couple.

Pretty Kitty. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 3700. After a rough shift, Buck helps Eddie shake it off and let go.

Negotiations Over Spaghetti. Bucky/Stiles. Teen. WC: 5315. Stiles meets up with Peter and Lydia before work. When he gets to the hospital, he catches up with Susie.

Reaching For You. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5600. While getting Eddie to safety after a sniper attack, Buck realizes that they might be soulmates and has to make a difficult choice.

Ready Now. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 5150. When Eddie starts to avoid him, Buck decides to find out what the problem is so he can try to fix it.

Helping Hand. Buck/Eddie. Adult. WC: 5200. When Eddie arrives early for their date, he catches Buck in a compromising position and offers him a helping hand.

Overkill. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 3700. Buck and Eddie figure out the best way to approach an important conversation with Chris. As per usual for them, they go overboard and have to revise their plans.

Happy Accident. Buck/Eddie. Teen. WC: 6150. When Buck gets some good news, he accidentally kisses Eddie, which leads to a conversation that changes their relationship.

To be continued

[kamimarroco]

this was supposed to be shorter, but i ended up exaggerating. also posting now because i really don't know if i would have the courage to do it during the day while aware of the mistakes that the story has :)

high chance that at some point I will delete it, or not. anyway

Words: almost 900

you find yourself sprawled across the grand, uncomfortably soft bed in the room, your gaze fixed on the luxurious ceiling, distracted by the figures drawn above. the blanket is too low to even cover your feet, the cold of the night hitting your skin protected only by the fabric of your pajamas.

you look to the side and see Fox curled up on part of the bed, his back turned to you and the upper half of his body completely exposed, unlike the lower half. you feel tempted, a desire you haven't felt for a while.

it wouldn't hurt to try, right?

you put boredom aside and decide to make the effort to get closer to him, being careful so that he doesn't notice the changes in weight on the bed. you get close enough to have him within arm's reach, reaching out to gently run your fingers over Fox's fur. your skin instantly picks up the capillaries, not so bold as to actually touch, but enough to feel something. your eye widens, your cheeks slightly burning, and then you move.

you run your fingers down his back, feeling his fur, tracing the scars that adorn his age-affected skin, noticing the details that you never took the time to pay due attention to. it's interesting, and most importantly, it's something to keep your mind busy. 

you lower your fingertips, and lower and lower, getting close to the part of the body where his tail starts, about to feel-

“what are you doing?", comes a harsh, deep and authoritative voice, and perhaps above all, angry.

your wrist is violently grabbed by one of Fox's hands, stopping your activity of exploring his body, your gaze seconds later moving to meet his. furrowed brows deepen the wrinkles that decorate his face, amber eyes glaring furiously at you. 

he didn't expect you to do that.

“nothing. i'm just touching you”, you answer honestly with a calm and collected attitude, not realizing the need to lie about something so small that was more than obvious. 

“touching me? without my permission?”, the way he takes great offense at your little act is ironic when you remember that he scourges your body until you open up, not caring about your consent or the pain inflicted on you.

it's strange, of course. you never had a good relationship with Fox, let alone initiate something as intimate as simply touching him while he sleeps. it's weird when you two point your nails and teeth at each other at least most of the time.

“i was just trying to do something good”

“oh, really? you, who never accepted my affections or showed gratitude for keeping you alive?”

you feel as if a thousand arrows have been aimed at your heart and shot all at once, the discomfort is too real for you to let go, but you really don't want to let it show.

“okay. yeah, fine. have it your way", you quickly remove your wrist from his grip, his gaze never leaving you even as you begin to distance yourself, returning to your spot on the bed, away from him and still without the blanket. you don't hear him say anything or feel him move from his spot, but you know he continues to watch you with distrust.

you turn your back and close your eye, trying to fall asleep as you curl up into yourself, the cold that afflicts you no longer just physical, but emotional.

you don't know how many minutes pass, but when your eyelid threaten to cover your vision, you feel something envelop your body. warm, soft, and furry.

not only does the warm, soft fabric of the blanket catch you, but someone else's body does too. you feel Fox's claws caressing your arm lightly, his chest pressed against your back. you feel his breathing behind you, controlled, not really relaxed. 

“i don't know why you did that", he whispers, the tone lower than the one he usually uses. “you've never done it before, why now?”

do you really need a reason for what you did?

“i don't know. i wanted something different. i wanted something that wasn't just fighting or hate sex”, you open the only eye you have to look at the wall, not finding the strength to turn your head and see him. “maybe i was actually trying to do something good”

you can't fool yourself into thinking that this doesn't sound weird. Fox, then, has every reason to doubt you even more. and yet, your voice sounds genuine, not with the intention of deceiving.

perhaps a part of you really wants to make your relationship more pleasant, despite the intrigues that often come to light countless times. or maybe you're just tired of fighting for something over and over and over again. a genuinely true change would not be terrible, quite the contrary.

"i kind of liked how you touched my body," Fox confesses quietly, warming up to you in both a literal and figurative sense. his claws no longer seem to awaken a fight-or-flight instinct within you. "you really seemed fascinated by it…"

in one of the rare moments, you can tolerate and, incredibly, appreciate each other's presence, so different from the dynamics you usually have. it's refreshing in a way you can't put into words

even if you know that this will not last

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter six

content warnings: mentions of sex, bad pickup lines, some fourth-wall breaking, MDNI

word count: 1,381

a/n: it's been 5 months oops thank you all for waiting + sorry for it being short </3 it's a little filler-y

taglist: @wakashudou @maddyb-rapps

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

You try to avoid being the one to text first after a hook-up, since it makes you feel pushy and bothersome. After all, both parties got what they wanted out of the encounter -- sex -- so there's no need to try and communicate again. As your luck would have it, you've rarely hooked up with the same person more than once. You weren't keen on breaking that trend.

Needless to say, you're pleasantly surprised when Tsukishima ends up reaching out a week and a half later. The Tinder notification appears when you're deep in a solo study session, eyes weary from staring at so many cramped words on a page.

Tsukishima: So. What classes are you taking this semester?

To put it simply, the question takes you by surprise. This man, who was arguably one of the best lays of your life, is expressing interest in your class schedule?

You blink at your phone a few times, certain there must be genuine confusion on your features. After all, what kind of hook-up wants to know your schedule? Isn't that strange?

Your first instinct is to text Mai, Kanji, Aone, Kosuke, or the groupchat with all five of you. But you know that'd be silly; after all, that'd be an overreaction. It was a simple question and you barely knew the guy beyond his prowess in the bedroom. Maybe he just wanted to learn more about you.

As you dwell on this, two potential responses rise up in your mind: you could bite the bullet and ask 'why,' or you could just give him an honest response without questioning it. Your initial read of Tsukishima was that he's aloof and likes to maintain distance, given the way he tried to leave your room while you were asleep. Him asking a question like this felt oddly personal.

You're so caught up with thinking of what to respond with that you eventually end up forgetting to respond altogether; it takes several hours before you remember that you didn't actually type a reply to the blonde man. After wincing in embarrassment upon realizing, you end up deciding on what you view as the less offensive of both options: answering his question without doubt.

You: hey! i'm taking mammalogy, advanced neurobio, an intro to ecology course, and a class about pharmacology. what about you?

♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡

Forty seven minutes. That's how long it takes for Tsukishima to respond to your text. You'd expected for him to take longer; after all, he waited several hours to reply whenever you took hours to reply as well.

You waste no time in checking your phone when the notification arrives, pausing your studying once more. The bright light of the screen makes you wince a bit.

Tsukishima: Neurobiology, huh? Think you can explain the neuroscience of sex to me?

You have to reread each word over and over again before the meaning sinks in -- or, at least, what you hope the meaning is. You're not used to there being a second... session, for lack of a better term, with the same guy, even less used to the guy suggesting the second one. You can feel the blood rush to your face, certain it's tinging your cheeks pink. The heat also rushes elsewhere, more south, making you cross your legs and squirm slightly. The unexpected turn of events isn't unwelcome, though. You're pleasantly surprised that he both reached out first and cut straight to the chase. There's no need to dance around the bush when it comes to the more carnal desires of the flesh, after all.

Since Tsukishima hadn't taken forever to respond, you decide to grace him with an even quicker response. After all, why wait? You're hoping he's implying that he wants a second hook-up with you, another chance to get in your pants, and the best way to confirm is to reply.

You: oh, do you need a tutor? if so, i'm free tomorrow after 8:30pm... ;)

Satisfied with your response, you hit send and put your phone face-down on the table. You're sat at your desk for a few more minutes before deciding that you've had enough of studying -- it's 9:47pm -- and you deserve a break. You crawl into bed with a book that you bought recently, feeling a little happy about finally having the time to read it.

Unfortunately for you, however, your phone remains on your desk, just out of reach. And you become so engrossed in the novel that the vibration of a response falls on deaf ears, and you also find yourself falling asleep without a second thought after reaching the halfway point in the book at about 3:42am. There goes your sleep schedule.

♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡

When you wake the next morning -- or afternoon, since the clock reads 1:12pm -- you curse yourself for forgetting to set an alarm before you got into bed. That's two lectures missed, so while you're mad, you also take it as a sign from some higher power that today was not a day for you to attend classes.

You change out of the clothes you slept in into something far more comfy before sitting down at your desk, checking your phone before plugging it in to charge. The Tinder notification sits proudly at the top of the list, above the automated promotional texts and email notifications. You tap on it, noting that the reply came the night before at 10:12pm, a grin spreading on your tired features as you absorb the words Tsukishima sent.

Tsukishima: Sounds good. I'll bring my already-filled-out neurobiology notebook this time.

You tap out a quick response -- perf. see you tonight! -- before letting out a deep, shaky breath. You just committed to a second hook-up with this incredibly attractive, tall, blonde man. You're not quite sure how he wasn't turned off by your incessant babbling during the act, but you're going to try and not dwell on it. After all, you're in college; pretty much everyone is looking for a quick fuck, right?

And so, your stress begins. Somehow, the thought of seeing him again wearing anything less than the perfect outfit has you sweating, even though he's already seen you naked, in pajamas, and also in his own clothing. You immediately stand up from your desk with enough force to accidentally knock the chair over, wincing at the loud bang despite it being a perfectly normal time to make accidental noise. You quickly right your chair before whizzing over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room, opening the doors wide and staring at the clothing hooks laden with garments.

It takes you several different iterations of roughly twenty three different options before you decide on fun, two-tone jeans with a top in a hue that flatters your skin tone. Simple and elegant, which should translate to "decent-looking and not a total gremlin" in other people's eyes.

Now that the outfit is out of the way, you spend the next seven hours stressing about how there's so much time left and it's crawling by so slowly until, tada, it's 8:30pm or so. Now, you spend your time stressing about when exactly he's going to get to your dorm, whether he'll text you when he's on his way, if he'll surprise you with a knock out of nowhere... It's all a very productive use of your time.

The time creeps closer to 9:00pm when the knock finally sounds -- he didn't tell you when he began his journey towards your residence -- and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Really, you shouldn't be so nervous! After all, this man has already seen you naked and decided he liked what he saw and heard enough to ask you for sexual favors again.

Sometimes you wish you phrased things better in your brain.

Deciding not to let yourself dwell in your thoughts any longer, you approach the door and take another deep breath before flinging it open with so much force it slams against the wall. Both you and the blonde jump in response, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

"Hey," you say, praying that your eagerness didn't leave a hole in the wall.

"Hey," he replies. "Guess we're starting off with a bang, huh?"

[n0vazsq]

Here with me | Joao Felix x Reader

pairing . . . joao felix x gf!reader

summary . . . When you're scared about the swarm of fans outside the stadium, Joao comforts you and lets you know it's going to be alright

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYONE!!!!!!!! this took me way longer than it should've

. . . The stadium loomed ahead, its towering lights cutting through the evening sky as fans gathered in droves, their excitement buzzing like electricity in the air.

Joao held your hand firmly, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. Despite his calm demeanor, he could sense your unease as you approached the entrance.

"Hey, you’re quiet," he said softly, glancing at you. His eyes, warm and attentive, searched your face for any sign of what was troubling you.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "Just a little nervous. That’s all."

He stopped walking, gently pulling you aside so you weren’t caught in the flow of fans rushing toward the gates. "Nervous about what? Talk to me," he urged, his voice low and steady.

You hesitated, glancing around at the crowd. Fans were decked out in jerseys, scarves, and painted faces, their energy visible as they chanted and cheered. While Joao thrived in this atmosphere, it was overwhelming for you.

"It’s just… a lot of people," you admitted. "And I’ve seen how fans can get sometimes. I don’t want to ruin your focus before the match."

Joao’s brows knitted together, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "You could never ruin anything. And if this is too much, we don’t have to do it like this. Let’s figure it out together, okay?"

You nodded, comforted by his sincerity. "I’ll be okay. I just need a second."

He scanned the area and spotted a quieter corner near the entrance, away from the bustling crowd. Without a word, he guided you there, positioning himself so his body acted as a barrier between you and the arena of fans.

"Better?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah," you said, your voice soft. "Thanks, Joao."

"Don’t thank me. I’m here for you," he said, his lips forming into a small smile. He tilted his head, studying you with that familiar, thoughtful expression that made your heart ache in the best way.

"You know, you’re my priority," he continued. "Not the fans, not the match. You. Always."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that his career was important and you didn’t want to get in the way, but he shook his head as if reading your mind. "I mean it," he said firmly. "If you’re not okay, nothing else matters."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You felt a lump rise in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I just don’t want to be a distraction," you murmured.

"You’re not a distraction," he said, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment. "You’re my support. My love. You think I could do all this without you?"

His words hit deep, and the weight on your chest began to lift. You placed your hands over his, leaning into his touch. "Thank you," you whispered.

"For what?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Loving you? That’s the easiest thing in the world."

A soft laugh escaped you, and Joao’s smile widened at the sound. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Come on," he said, lacing his fingers with yours again. "Let’s get inside. If anyone bothers you, I’ll handle it. Okay?"

"Okay," you said, feeling a new found sense of reassurance as you walked toward the gates together.

As you approached the VIP entrance, a small group of fans noticed Joao. Their faces lit up, and they began calling his name, waving and holding up jerseys for him to sign. You tensed, instinctively stepping closer to him.

Joao noticed immediately. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before turning to the fans with a polite but firm smile. "I’ll sign a few, but please give us some space," he said, his tone calm yet stern.

The fans nodded eagerly, and Joao quickly signed a couple of jerseys and took a few pictures. Throughout it all, he kept one hand on your back, a silent reminder that he was there for you.

Suddenly, as Joao was finishing up with one fan, another fan, who was a man with a phone outstretched, pushed toward you aggressively.

The fan’s actions startled you, and you stumbled back slightly, your back hitting the wall quite aggressively, heart racing. Without hesitation, Joao stepped in front of you, his body shielding yours completely.

"Hey!" Joao’s voice was sharp, cutting through the havoc. He gave the fan a glare that could freeze fire. "That’s enough! Back off!"

The fan looked taken aback, his phone still in hand. "I just wanted-"

"No," Joao interrupted, his tone firm and unwavering. "You’re making her uncomfortable. Show some respect."

The surrounding fans fell silent, watching the exchange. The man hesitated before lowering his phone and retreating into the crowd, muttering an apology. Joao turned to the rest of the group, his protective stance never faltering. "Thank you for understanding. That’s it for now."

He then turned back to you, his hands immediately finding your arms. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I’m okay," you managed, though your voice wavered slightly. The adrenaline and shock of the moment had left you shaken.

Joao’s eyes softened, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. "I’m so sorry you had to deal with that," he murmured against your hair. "I won’t let anyone treat you like that again."

You clung to him, his embrace grounding you. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"Always," he replied, his tone full of love. "Let’s get inside."

Once inside the stadium, the noise of the crowd was muffled, and the atmosphere felt less overwhelming. Joao led you to a private lounge, where you could watch the match in comfort and relative quiet.

"This is better, right?" he asked as you settled into the plush seats.

"Much better," you said, reaching for his hand. "Thank you."

Joao sat beside you, his arm draped over the back of your seat as he pulled you close. "You don’t have to thank me for taking care of you," he said softly.

After the match, Joao found you in the longue. He ran up to you, a huge grin on his face, and pulled you into his embrace.

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and content for the first time that evening. As the minutes passed, you found yourself relaxing more and more, Joao’s presence a constant source of comfort.

The whole time, Joao was staring at you, his eyes full of warmth and love. When you two pulled back, he turned to you with a grin, the excitement lighting up his face. "Did you see that goal?" he asked, his joy contagious.

"I did," you said, laughing as his enthusiasm pulled you further out of your trance.

By the end of the night, your earlier anxiety felt like a distant memory. Joao had a way of making you feel like the only person in the world who mattered, and tonight was no exception.

"See? We survived," he said, his tone teasing.

"Thanks to you," you replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Joao’s smile softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Always," he murmured. "I’ll always take care of you."

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

No Amount of Wishes

|| Sheriff Grayson x fem!enforcer!reader

|| Warnings; injured reader (concussion/broken arm/coma), Grayson worried for reader and feeling guilt, hospital setting, injured on the job

|| Summary; Grayson stays to keep an eye on reader, only to realize she's got to go to work. Then... reader wakes up.

Requests closed!

Started; December 31th

Finished; December 31st

HurtCember2024; Day 25, Accident

~~~

She didn't mean for this to happen.

For you to get hurt on the field. Everyone kept reminding her; "Grayson, it was just an accident. None of this was your fault." But she knew. She knew. It was her decision to send you out there. It all comes down to her in the end. Grayson was the Sheriff. She was supposed to be better than this- you were never supposed to get hurt. We really can't stop everything, can we? No matter how hard we try... beg the Gods. Nothing ever comes of it.

Grayson sighed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. You'd been hospitalized for a couple of days now, stuck in what felt like a never ending coma. Grayson couldn't bare the sight of you like this, but she hated the thought of leaving your side even more. Of course, she wasn't able to stay as long as she wanted to. The people still needed her. The city wouldn't rest just because you were bed bound. No amount of wishes could change that.

Looking to the clock on the wall, Grayson could see that her time with you was just about up for the day. This was the hardest part for her. Leaving you. She knew the hospital staff was good. That you were in good hands; even still. Grayson wanted to be the one to take care of you. She always had, it didn't matter how many times you told her you could handle things yourself. That you had it under control. Something, somewhere would go wrong.

"Grayson?" She had started to stand, removing herself from the seat. Her limbs ached, a sign of how long she had been sitting. It took her a moment to register your voice. You calling to her. At first, Grayson was sure she had imagined it. Her mind playing tricks created by her desire. Her desire for you. She still turned to look at you, just for the off chance that...

You were awake?

"Gods," Grayson breathed. Feeling a sense of relief run through her entire body. She rushed to your side, hand on yours while the other cupped your cheek. Her eyes never leaving yours, memorizing the colour and every detail. Assuring herself that you were there.

"I missed you," you murmured. You knew by the look she was giving you that you'd been out for a while. The fight you'd gotten caught in on patrol really did a number on you. The first was the broken arm. Having received quite the blow to your dominate side. Then a blow to your head that finished the job. You could feel a subtle pound that seemed to only get worse the longer your eyes were open.

"I'll always miss you more," the Sheriff murmured. Earning herself a smile from you. The hand that cupped your cheek trailed your jawline. Fingers ghosting your skin, sending shivers down your neck," the doctor explained that you had a concussion and broken arm. The blow to the side of your head was heafty, you'll be suspended for the next couple weeks until you've fully recovered."

Your eyes widened. Suspended? How were you supposed to spend your time? You'd get bored waiting around doing nothing. With a concussion and broken arm you'd be even more limited. Great, "yippee..."

Grayson laughed at your enthusiasm, or lack of," oh don't you start pouting with me. I may just have to kiss it away, you know."

"Oh really?" You smirked, glad to see that Grayson was in a better mood. You knew she had to have been beating herself up over this, whether the flirting was a way to hide it or not you weren't sure... but it made your heart flutter all the same," I'd take you up on that. First, though... you okay?"

"To be truthful, no. Seeing you like this..." She trailed off and shook her head, leaving you to fill the blanks. You had a good idea what she was saying. It hurt her, probably just as much as you'd actually been hurt.

"Gray... none of this was your fault, you know that. Don't you? My reaction time was off, I was slower, weaker. My opponent just had a better hand against me. But none of it comes down to you. That was my usual patrol line, it's not like anything changed from the normal scheduling. Just an unlucky day," you tried to comfort her. She did seem to ease, but not fully.

"I... suppose you make your points." She sighed, looking to the clock on the wall again. She was late for her shift by now, but.. if she's already late anyway, what's the harm in spending a few extra minutes with you?