#with a dog sitting next to it with the most happy expression

[florencemtrash]

The Graveyard Shift: Chapter VI

Simon Riley x f!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley is a lonely grave keeper in Victorian England who puts a marriage proposal ad in the London newspaper. He's ready to make his house a home, but can he convince his new wife that he can be her safe space, or will the secret she carries threaten their newfound happiness?

Warnings: abusive marriages (not Simon), allusions to SA (not explicit)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist! This just helps me stay organized so I don't miss any requests. Thank you :)

The Graveyard Shift Masterlist

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“Father Hughes, I need to speak with you.” 

The priest straightened his papers and reached into his drawers for an extra teacup. 

It had been a month since Y/n Riley had been brought to town. Frankly, Father Hughes was surprised Simon hadn’t come sooner. 

Unlike most churchgoers, Simon did not go to the confession box. The last time he’d done so, people had been reluctant to follow after him, convinced he’d carried a tortured soul into the church that would latch on vulnerable souls. So, Simon spoke his confessions in Father Hughes’ home, where no such spirits had yet been found. 

Simon’s hand was comically large around his teacup and he downed it like liquor. 

“Is it about the wife?”

“Yes.” He answered gruffly. 

“I will require more details.” 

Simon shifted in his seat. He should have grown used to Father Hughes’ direct line of questioning, yet his knowledge of it did nothing to quell his uneasiness. 

“She is getting on well? Settling in nicely?” Father Hughes prodded and poked for details. It was like prying a pearl from a clam where Simon was concerned. 

“Yes… and no.” 

The priest sighed, “Simon—” 

“She does everything a wife does. She cleans, cooks, takes care of the garden and the goats while I tend the graves. She does everything she’s supposed to.” Simon’s brows furrowed, and hidden beneath his scarf his lips turned down. 

“I don’t see the problem.” Father Hughes expressed, turning his fingers into a steeple beneath his chin. 

“She does everything she’s supposed to do.” Simon reiterated. “She never argues. She wants nothing. She—she flinches whenever I come near.” 

Father Hughes did not find any issue with that. “Some women are docile in manner. They take… persuading to be brought to their marital duties in that realm, but it is a virtue! And you should consider yourself lucky to find that in a wife.” 

Simon’s frown deepened. He was grateful for the scarf covering the lower half of his face now. Father Hughes would not like to have to see the scowl aimed in his direction. 

“Then what separates a wife from a housekeeper?” 

Father Hughes cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well… there are the other activities that married couples do.” Activities that he would not quite know given his… proclivities and profession as a clergyman. “You must take charge in the endeavor! No matter her hesitations.”

Simon stood up so abruptly the chair squeaked in protest, eyes colder than a winter storm. “Thank you for your time, Father.” He was quick to pull on his hat and coat, disappearing in a whisper of dirt and spirits. 

Riley’s barking in the front yard alerted Y/n. 

Simon was home early. 

In the past month they’d eased into a tentative pattern. They’d wake together in the earliest hours of the morning and separate — Simon to feed the goats and the dog, and Y/n to the kitchen to make breakfast. He’d then go off into the graveyard, shovel in hand and the barest of kisses to her temple, leaving her to tend the house and the kitchen. They’d rejoin for lunch and then again in the late afternoon, at which point only the smallest words were exchanged. 

It was agonizing for Simon to leave and return to a house that felt lonelier than ever. To sit across from and sleep beside a woman he desperately wanted to make happy. But there was an ache in Y/n’s heart he couldn’t help but adopt as his own. An emotion he couldn’t tap into without feeling like he’d be breaking her in half in his hands. 

Today was no different. 

The windows were open, and although he’d caught the faintest notes of her singing from the road, they stopped the moment she caught sight of him from the kitchen. 

She straightened her posture and her apron, settling the dog as she waited for her husband to enter. Riley was a perfect companion while Simon was away, filling the house with enough noise that she felt safe and offering no danger of his own. She actually preferred it when Simon was tending to the graves for it was the first and only time in her life where she could feel in control of her space. Where she could feel like this house was hers. 

“Y/n,” Simon said, smiling sadly at her. 

“Was everything well with Father Hughes?” 

He shrugged off his coat and her question, leaving his hat and scarf at the door. He looked startlingly different without his grave clothes. When he shucked off those dark colors she was always surprised to find how light his hair was. How his brows and eyelashes seemed to fade into his freckled skin and become scars of their own. 

“He is well. I wanted to ask him some questions but… it was useless, so I came home.” 

“Are you hungry? I can—” 

He shook his head, eyes catching on the way her hands tightened in front of her body. She wrung her hands often, lightly scratching at her skin when she didn’t know what to do. Without thinking, he reached out and unfolded her hands, feeling the tight muscles of her palms. 

She was no stranger to hard work, but citylife had not wholly prepared her for the countryside. She swallowed her pain when Simon pressed at a particularly sore spot. 

“You’ve not been resting enough.” 

“I’m alright.” She offered him a muted, pleasant smile, but he remained unimpressed. He led her to the table, gesturing for her to sit across from him. He carded his fingers through hers, forcing her palm flat so he could knead at her palms with his thumbs. Tight, spine-trembling pain slowly gave way to relief as he unwound her muscles. His fingers were calloused, hard skin poking at the backs of her hands, but his actions were soft. They were always soft. 

He moved onto her other hand. “I’ve lived here alone for over ten years. Have I told you this before?” So intent was he on remembering every word she spoke that he knew the answer even before she shook her head. “I survived on my own. No maid or housekeeper or gardener. Just me, and then eventually Riley.” 

“And Father Hughes.” She had not meant to make a joke, but Simon chuckled nevertheless. 

“Yes, he was there.” He could have dropped her hand when he finished unwinding all the tension, but instead took to tracing the lines in her palm with his fingertips. “Do you know why I put in the advert? Why I wanted a wife?”

She was puzzled by the question. Frankly, it had never crossed her mind that there would be any other reason than that he was a man. And a man who could have a wife would therefore want one. 

“I was lonely. I wanted a companion to speak to. Someone to care for and hold the way I’d heard husbands and wives do.” He dared to look into Y/n’s eyes, watching them widen with something that looked depressingly like surprise. “When I say I wanted a wife, that is what I meant.” He twisted a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. She was evaluating him carefully, treating him like a jeweler might fool’s gold. 

“Have I been… disappointing you then? As a wife."

“No. No that’s not what—” He sighed and the breath that washed over her face was warm and smelled faintly of tobacco and woodsmoke. “You’re a good wife. Now I intend to prove to you that I am a good husband.”

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Taglist: @marigold-morelli @camcvpidd @slightlypossessed @pistachioslife @imarotternotawriter @enfppuff @squishytap @taxidermypossum @sawendel @nicolebarnes @other-fandoms-reblogs @blush-haze

[kathbunny]

He knows - Magical Boy Love Corner AU

VR-LA stared at MR-SN's and his past text conversations, just staring. MR-SN sent him a message a day normally, just casual things like pictures of plants or animals (occasionally paired with the caption "you"), things that didn't lead to much conversation. However, there hadn't been a single message in over a week, and it was eating away at VR-LA. Had he messed up somehow? Had he made MR-SN hate him without realizing?

VR-LA took a deep breath, deciding to do something about it. Just one text, that's all he had to do. "Hey, how are you doing?" VR-LA sent, flaking out of being any more direct, feeling that'd be too rude.

MR-SN read it almost immediately, but didn't start typing until a few minutes later, and then he was typing for just as long. All just for VR-LA to get a very simple message. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Maybe honesty would be the best route here. "Worried about you mostly. Wanted to check in."

"Why?"

VR-LA sighed at that reply, feeling like it should probably be obvious. "We normally talk more, so I thought something must be wrong or I did something."

"Nothing is wrong. And you did nothing wrong, you couldn't do anything to upset me."

Then why? VR-LA stared at his phone, unsure what to say to that.

MR-SN sent another message. "I do have question though."

"Yes?"

"How do you keep getting hurt?"

Shit. "I tell you each time you ask, it's always something different. I'm just clumsy."

"Okay." MR-SN sent, another message coming a few minutes later. "I won't push."

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[amphitriteswife]

Hey! Can you please write what would you do if i like someone else for gun, jake, johan and eli? Thank you ❤️

‘What would you do if i like someone else?’

Jonggun rolled his eyes at you when you asked him that question, his lips wrapped around the cigarette in his mouth, held up by his index and middle finger. He took a long drag and closed his eyes before he let the smoke leave his mouth slowly, savoring the taste and tapping the ash off the cigarette. ‘You ask stupid questions.’ Jonggun said wiping the ash off his lips. He took a seat on the couch and invited you to sit next to him, it was weird. Most of the time he just said and did what was necessary. Perhaps he felt rather nostalgic today? It was rare to see him vulnerable or sentimental. So what was he getting at? ‘Answerrrrrr’ you told him impatiently but still sitting next to him. You wanted him to answer your questions, they’re fun and interesting. He needs to be quick! ‘I frankly don’t think you will.’ ‘Will what?’ ‘Like someone else. Not ever.’ ‘Why’s that? What if i find a new babe?’ ‘Impossible.’ ‘Whyy?’ Jonggun sighed and pushed your head so that it was laying on his shoulder. He pushed the almost done cigarette onto the ashtray and placed a kiss on your lips, he tasted very ashy-like which made you cough. ‘IEUW’ you pushed him off you and breath for fresh air which made him chuckle at you lightly. ‘You told me I’m the only man you’ll ever love. And i trust your word for it.’ The answer made you stop in your tracks which made him give you another kiss instead and going back to literally another cigarette.

‘Well feelings are humane so…’ Jake said quietly, still contemplating your question. Perhaps you being sarcastic and asking a lot of questions was too much to handle for him? The question was supposed to be a joke and not that serious at all. ‘What would you do jakey?’ Jake pondered very hard, harder than he had when he was taking his exams last week, he needed a clear head to think. He thought long and hard before he answered. ‘Hmmm i would accept.’ He stated proudly. His eyes helt a certain type of twinkle in them. ‘Wrong! You’re supposed to say that i’m yours!’ ‘You are mine! And i am yours!’ ‘Then why are you accepting it if i liked someone else?’ ‘Because i love you.’ You gave him a confused look. Yeah he did love you, but that doesn’t explain what he’s saying?? Jake noticed your confused expression and smiled. ‘I love you, so even if you loved someone else. At the end of the day I want you to be happy.’ You looked at him and he looked back at you, his hands wrapping you in a tight hug with a wide grin on his face. Perhaps your joke was taken a little too serious…he was so sweet and selfless about it. It was a stereotypical Jake action, always thinking of others first. But what about Jakey himself? He was thinking of you first but what about his own heart, it almost made you emotional thinking about it. ‘If i ever leave you, hit me on the head.’ ‘What?’

Johan was sitting outside by the lake. His dogs were busy woofing around and playing with each other. He felt tired, very tired. He couldn’t help but wonder if an adult’s life was also so tiresome, working for the White Tiger center did come with a lot of work and costs…Johan let out a sigh. That’s when you popped up, his lovely partner. He was so relieved to see you. For some reason he couldn’t help but hug you tightly, his mood instantly relaxing. He kissed your cheek and watched you sit next to him on the park bench, talking to him about numerus things before you finally asked the question. Johan just stared at you for a few seconds, you could see the him processing your words and the way his eyes narrowed at you. He clearly disliked the question you asked him. Johan isn’t someone who likes it when someone takes it something from him…or when he loses someone again…so for him this wasn’t just a question but a hypothetical situation that could be true. ‘You wouldn’t…..you wouldn’t, would you?’ ‘It’s a joke.’ ‘Right.’ It came out more sarcastic than it was meant to be and the both of you knew it. You made Johan angry….the way his jaw was clenched and the veins in his neck now visible didn’t go unnoticed but you. But because for amusement you pretended to now know and ask further. ‘What would you do dawg?’ You knew Johan didn’t like it when you called him that, yet you did it anyway. Are you making him angry on purpose? ‘I would steal his shoes so that i could sell them.’ ‘Are you poor?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Oh- uhm. I can lend you money?’ ‘Gladly.’ Normally you wouldn’t have doe that so quickly, but this time he was mad at you so you gave him your spare change. Which for some reason made him super happy and go back to normal again. What a cheapskate

Eli gave you a deadpanned look when you asked him the question. Yenna, who was in his arms was pulling on his hair and trying to climb on top of his head made some brabbel sound. He didn’t know how to feel. Should he be angry or hurt? Maybe even insecure? What the hell was this question even supposed to mean? ‘What are you getting at Y/N?’ Eli asked you quite suspiciously, he doesn’t like this, not the question nor where you might go with this. ‘I want to know what you’ll do.’ You asked him casually, waiting for a response. He doesn’t know what to think. His hands grabbed Yenna gently and lifted her off his head and placed her on his lap instead. He was feeling conflicted, on one hand he didn’t want you to leave. He wanted to protect you and keep you with him. On the other hand he felt that it was selfish of him to make you stay if you didn’t want to. He pressed his lips in a thin line, Yenna was trying to get out of his lap and get onto yours instead. Yenna really has gotten attached to you in the times you spent here, sometimes she denied playing with him to play with you instead…he really doesn’t want you to leave. His hands softly scooted Yenna back to him which caused her to whine and crawl right from under his arm to you. ‘I don’t want you to leave…is that selfish?’ Eli asked you a little softer, watching Yenna crawl over to you and sit in your lap instead. You couldn’t help but feel bad. You didn’t make him insecure right? He sounded so sad. ‘I wouldn’t leave. It’s just a hypothetical question.’ ‘So no leaving me or yenna?’ ‘If i leave i’d take yenna with me.’ ‘Don’t steal my daughter. I don’t appreciate it.’ ‘Whoa sorry calm down-’

——————————————————————————-

Thank you for the ask! 💕⭐️🙏

[fastboatsmojito]

my sweet beloved boatie!!!! congrats on 100<3 you're so deserving of it and i hope you get many more!! 💐

i've come for some filth with carl because i'm depraved so here we fuckin go my friend

19) angry sex in the middle of a fight + ❛ you want me quiet? make me. ❜

thank you xoxo -🐁

You’re so sweet :,) thank you !! <33

19 - angry sex in the middle of a fight - from this smutty prompt list! + “you want me quiet? Make me.” from this smutty dialogue list! For my 100 followers party !

| a/n; omg my first Carl req Ever I hope this does him justice 🫡

| cw; 18+ smut btc of course, fem reader (‘good girl’ used once), you’re both kinda dicks but it’s hot so it’s okay <3, smoking, Typical Shameless Shit, porn with a little plot, couch fucking in a house of peacefully sleeping gallaghers, PnV, no mention of condoms (b safe) - shocking I know, he covers your mouth for a bit, implied facefucking at the end whoops, a little brat tamer!Carl if u will >:)

| wc; 466

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

You would’ve admitted you were being a dick if he wasn’t doing the same, his head leaned back against the couch as he huffed out a cloud of smoke he’d usually direct away from you.

You could barely remember how the fight started, focused more on the pissy attitude radiating off of him as you stood with your arms crossed in front of him.

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all night?” He scoffed, putting the well finished cigarette out in the ashtray next to him before waving you over to sit with him.

You weren’t exactly happy but he was still Carl, and you figured you could be just as annoyed with him while comfortably sat in his lap.

The unamused expression on his face stayed when you settled into him, though his arms immediately coming around you almost gave his barely scorned attitude away.

“You wanna apologize now?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes - still pissed enough not to kiss him even though the desire was clearly still there.

“Me? What about you?” He retorted, strong arms around you softening as he dropped his head back against the couch with a sigh.

“No fucking way.” You replied, draping your legs over his lap, elbows resting on the arm rest as you leaned away from him.

You didn’t enjoy fighting with him but he didn’t make it hard, especially when you both shared the bad habit of apologizing with actions before words.

—

And that’s exactly how you ended up bent over that same armrest - not the most comfortable position that he was holding you in. You could practically feel him in your stomach like this and the harsh hand clamped around your mouth was only adding to the fire burning within you.

“Apologize quietly.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear, moving his hand from your mouth to grip your hair instead. He had zero intention of dealing with the shit he’d get for fucking you in the living room of all places if you woke someone up.

“Make me.” You all but moaned, pouting when he pulled out of you and turned you around to face him, sitting on the same armrest you were just draped over while he meanly squished your cheeks together.

“Can’t call you a good girl if you don’t act like one, can I?” He looked divine like this, furrowed brows only making you want to piss him off more as his eyes bored into you.

He shook your head for you with his hand when you didn’t answer - tsking at you like a bad dog as he walked backwards and guided you to your knees.

“If you can’t even say sorry with that mouth I guess we’ll just have to find some other use for it.”

[antimonyandthyme]

1.2k, carcar, late night condom run

“This is—”

He means to say humiliating. Exceedingly mortifying. They’re both wearing obnoxious baseball caps, as if that’ll serve as sufficient disguises. Carlos is sporting a shit-eating grin, and the night air has turned his cheeks pink, obvious even under the brim of his cap. 

This is. Actually the most fun he’s had in awhile. 

It’s unlike him to be helpless in the face of Carlos’s obvious glee. But it’s late, and both their shields are a little flimsy.

He trails slightly behind, watching the way even Carlos’s feet seem giddy. The stupidest thought crosses his mind: I don’t see you this happy on Sundays, isn’t that something, and it takes all of his willpower to force the words back down his throat. 

“This is, what? Come on, Oscar.” He doesn’t like it when Carlos’s voice dips like that, turns teasing. Turns him all warm. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone on a midnight condom run.”

“Not in Monaco,” Oscar says. 

He only realizes Carlos has stopped when he bumps his nose into something. Presumably Carlos’s back. Reluctantly, Oscar looks up from Carlos’s feet. Carlos is wearing a soft, amused expression. 

Oh. He might have just insinuated he hasn’t gone out for condoms in Monaco. Which in turns insinuates he hasn’t been having sex since he got here. Which in turn insinuates that he’s only been seeing–

Oscar tugs his cap down, opens his mouth to stutter out some excuse.

“All stocked up, eh?”

“Shut up,” Oscar mutters, cheeks flaming. 

Carlos laughs. Actually throws his head back and full-body laughs at Oscar’s expense. Unbelievable. This guy. A menace. Oscar kinda hates him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes, rookie.”

“Stop flattering yourself.”

Carlos jabs a finger into Oscar’s bicep. “It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he says. His feet are back to dancing. His eyes are crinkled into half-moon shapes. Oscar tries and fails to level the squeeze in his chest. 

Thing is, Carlos isn’t wrong. Sex with Carlos has been. Well. 

They’re both sporting the most inconvenient of erections, barely hidden behind the thickest pairs of sweatpants Oscar could find. Carlos had wrinkled his nose at Oscar’s choice of clothes. Oscar had raised an eyebrow, like You wanna wear jeans with that boner? And Carlos had caved, albeit with patented-Carlos-grumbling. 

Making out like they were competing to steal each others’ air, hands grabbing, tugging, touching. Separating only when Oscar had realized his apartment was out of the essentials. Throwing on clothes while painfully hard, stealing their way to a drugstore with a cashier who hopefully wouldn’t recognize them and put two and two together. 

Kinda crazy, doing that last bit. Kinda crazy, doing it with Carlos. 

Carlos strolls into the store like he doesn’t know the meaning of shame. Stalks right down to the aisle of condoms.

“Wait,” Oscar hisses, dragging Carlos back by the elbow. “Could we make it less obvious?”

“What?” Carlos says. Mouth half-open, head tilted like he can’t figure Oscar out. Oscar’s come to realize he’s on the receiving end of that look from Carlos too many times to be safe. “Make what less obvious?”

“Oh my god,” Oscar says. Not a single thought between the man’s brown, brown eyes.

He yanks Carlos into a random aisle, throws two random packages of band-aids into a basket. Then two bottles of kid’s gummy multivitamins sitting on the next shelf. Whatever. They’re pretty tasty, so they won’t be going to waste. Some safety razors. Some coconut oil.

“Oh,” Carlos says, “oh, less obvious with the condoms, I get it now.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“You know they’ll still scan the items right?”

“Here,” Oscar says flatly. “I’m getting this for Pinon.”

It’s a pink donut chew toy, complete with raised sprinkles for effect. Dog toys for aggressive chewers! the tag says. Oscar has no idea whether Pinon likes chewing or not. He’s not about to start caring. 

Carlos, for once, isn’t arguing. He’s got another one of those weird looks he’s directing at Oscar, one of those that turns Oscar’s stomach inside out. 

“How do you know his name?”

It’s Oscar’s turn to be confused. “What,” he says. “Don’t you like, talk about him all the time?”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “You’re mixing me up with Charles.”

Impossible, Oscar manages not to say.

“I rarely talk about him,” Carlos says. There’s a hint of a smile, curving his lips up. “Very, very rarely.”

“Well,” Oscar says, floundering. Carlos and his stupid, stupid eyelashes. “You must have, on Instagram or something–”

Ah. Shit.

Carlos grins. Blinding, too bright for Oscar to face head on. In the middle of the entire store, he runs his knuckles under Oscar’s jaw. He’s got Oscar right where he wants him. A menace. Oscar doesn’t know how he goes about acting like that. Sucking up all the space in the room while being unaware of how he turns heads. Unashamedly buying condoms in the middle of the night in Monaco with Oscar as if it were something he would do any day. A menace, three times over. 

Carlos looks down at their basket, now half full. 

“The cashier is going to think we have very kinky sex.”

“Oh my god.”

“Coconut oil, really? An aggressive chew toy? You could have just told me if you wanted to be gagged–”

“Shut up,” Oscar squawks, even as the idea lodges itself somewhere underneath Oscar’s rib like a bullet, “shut up you idiot–”

A laugh sneaks out of Carlos’s dumb mouth, where it sees fit to expand itself until Oscar’s laughing too. Unacceptable. Oscar curls an arm around his belly, protectively. Carlos is slapping his knees. It’s not even that funny. It’s Carlos’s fault Oscar’s wheezing so hard he can barely breathe.

“Now,” Carlos gasps, “can we finally get what we came for?”

“Fine,” Oscar says. He reaches for the box, nestles it carefully in the middle of the basket. Looks almost natural. “Now no one will suspect a thing, see?”

“You’re very bothered, for someone so unbothered,” Carlos says.

Oscar’s knee jerk reaction is to deny it. How many layers will Carlos peel off him tonight? It feels too much like losing, only that Carlos isn’t gloating, already trotting off with their mishmash basket of goodies without a care in the world. Carlos leans over the counter, says something that makes the cashier laugh, tilts his body and jabs his thumb over his shoulder in Oscar’s direction in the universal gesture of I’m talking about this guy in a way that makes it clear I want everyone, him included, to know I’m talking about him.

“Don’t believe anything he says about the chew toy,” Oscar says faintly. 

Carlos laughs. The cashier laughs. Oscar manages something high-pitched that might pass off as a laugh.

They refuse to pay for a plastic bag and Carlos makes Oscar shove the box of condoms down one pocket, the rest of the shit in the other, while he skips off with the donut and bottle of coconut oil. 

Classic Carlos.

Their shoulders bump, on their way back. Every step scrapes the edge of the pocketed box against Oscar’s inner thigh, right near his now soft dick. It doesn’t matter. Just the thought of Carlos’s warm hands around him is enough to get him going again.

Carlos tips his head toward Oscar, boyish grin making him look all of twenty. He squishes the toy in Oscar's face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

If he were a little braver: I’m bothered because I know what I’m signing up for. The space between races will hit me with a separation anxiety I’m probably not equipped to deal with, and I’ll learn the names of not just your dog, but your family’s, and I’ll start looking at my phone with a goofy smile and have everyone around me question it because they'll know, they'll just know, and I’ll have to learn how to lie better, and pretend better, all because I’m into you.

Oscar takes a breath. Exhales for long enough that all the words escape him.

“Wasn’t so bad,” he says.

[meganegatari]

pool/beach day w/ ellie thoughts! source of pondering: i was in the pool and am never not thinking about ellie so…this is very much insane projecting LOL. (like projecting to the level of this was literally how i spent the last few hours but am writing as if it's ellie…with creative expansions obvi.) informal format, basically just thinking and not a fr story iykwim. closer to headcanons? I DON'T KNOW JUST A SHITTY YAP OF SORTS OK. loser!ellie kindaaa, jesse cameo, teeny suggestive mentions if you squint.

pool (or beach, either work) day with ellie, how fun!! let's start with her fit. she'd wear plaid swim trunks with a sports bra style bikini top, unbuttoned short sleeve button up shirt on top when out of the water, all pieces of her outfit totally different, clashing patterns. yet she somehow rocks it. and when she's in the water, she wears swim goggles because of course. she'd love wearing her outfit, and “f-boy” coded ellie would hike her bottoms down just enough so her happy trail would peek out perfectly, because she knew all the girls would drool at the sight. you included. (who wouldn't.)

in the water however, she'd be a nuisance like none other, literally turning into a teen boy. splashing you like crazy, goofing around until there's so much water in her nose you're sure you can hear it sloshing around inside her skull. at times you'd even have to act like her mother, yelling at her to reapply her sunscreen so her delicate skin didn't burn to a crisp. she finds this absolutely hilarious.

“ellie, you're gonna turn into a lobster, get over here!” you toss the bottle in the air and catch it, a fed-up look on your face. she stands up and shakes the water off her body as if she's a dog, then strides over to you, snatching the sunscreen out of your hand. she rolls her eyes, and you can clearly hear the smirk in her tone. “ugh, sorry mom. i bet i'd be delicious as a lobster though.” she chuckles at her stupid joke, a husky “heh”, but then doubles over laughing even harder once she sees your stone-cold expression not crack in the slightest. in the most bored, deadpan voice you could muster, “you taste fine as-is, dork.” cue her face turning as bright red as a freshly boiled lobster once the rebuttal properly registers in her mind. you = 1, ellie = 0.

you'd be over there away from the water on a towel trying to get some vitamin d, or hidden away in the shade with a book and cocktail with one of the tiny umbrellas in it, but your els would want you there with her, and try to drag you in the water.

as she grabs your arm to pull you to your feet, “c'mon babe, get in. just for a little bit, how aren't you bored over there?” when you don't move, she attacks your neck with cold, wet smooches, the temperature of her lips a shock against your hot, dry skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over. finally you'd comply, following her while she's pulling you in. “see, look how nice it is!” a grin so wide it melts your insides, you can't be mad at her, and you find a floaty to lay on. you can do some relaxation like that. but ellie, she insists to be close to you at all times, and finds a floaty to lay on next to yours. can't forget she's still holding your hand, you both look like two little otters floating down a stream, swept away on beds of seaweed, hand in hand.

as you're listening to the sounds of the water around you, the gentle rocking as a gust of wind passes by, you feel ellie's grip on your hand go limp, and you look over at her to see the fucker's dead asleep. “hey, ellie?” you ask, and are met with silence, her head lolled to the side with her mouth slightly open, she was out cold. it seems all that silly splashing around had made her tired, and that in combination with the comforting, warm environment had rocked her to sleep. you float there next to her peacefully for a short while, resting your eyes. then out of nowhere, you hear her yelp, and sit up to see that her friend, jesse, had made an appearance and threw a volleyball at her, which hit her smack-dab in the face. “what the fuck man!” he's looking smug, proud of his aim, and waves hi to you. ellie throws the ball back at him, but unfortunately she misses. and by a long shot at that, seems she was still drowsy. you're tuning them out and have returned to floating in relaxation, vaguely hearing them yelling profanities and “your mom” jokes to each other. in no time at all ellie bolts out of the water and dashes over to him, and you take a deep breath, happy to get some quiet, but also enjoying watching them from afar as they toss the ball around. ellie gestures for you to join them, to which you yell to her that you'll join in a bit, watching from the sidelines was proving to be better entertainment than you thought it would be, you loved observing her athletic form, whatever she's doing.

and so the evening continues like that, you two make it back home as it gets dark, and crash into bed immediately. bla bla bla...

yeah i dunno. had to write SOMETHING don't yell at me if it's crap idrc. ig i shall tag peeps anyway cuz that's what yall do! wrote while listening to tsp, especially 1979 which is a very summery song imo. sunset drives with friends blasting that song...UGHHHH

everything everything: @andersonfilms @fleshunger @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2

ellie everything: @flowrmoth @srooch @liddysflyer @fortune777

wanna be tagged in my fics? fill out the form!

[megumiluvv]

On Megumi’s birthday, Gojo couldn’t help but bring a photo album to dinner. Megumi already knew how embarrassing this dinner was going to be for him. Especially with you around to see when he was younger.

“Oh! Look at this one. Learning how to ride a bike!” Gojo coos at the younger Megumi sat atop a bicycle, knee scraped and dogs chasing after him, determined look on the child’s face.

“Oh wait wait wait! What about when he first celebrated Father’s Day for me? He was soo embarrassed but it made me so happy!”

A photo of Gojo, Megumi, and Tsumiki gathered around a table, presumably Shoko taking the photograph is pushed into the center of the table. Gojo’s smiling brightly and holding a cake that says “no. 1 dad” in blue sprinkles and Megumi’s looking away with flushed cheeks. Tsumiki has her signature soft smile and Gojo’s sunglasses are hanging onto her nose. A “world’s best dad” mug is seen in the corner of the photo.

“Gojo, this is embarrassing,” your boyfriend mutters.

“Aww, and here’s the first birthday he celebrated with me!” Gojo ignores Megumi’s complaints.

A chocolate cake with a big “5” candle in the center sits in front of the birthday boy in the photograph. He’s got a pouty flustered expression and his arms are crossed, almost the same as he is currently. Wrapping paper can be seen in the background, his dogs tearing it up. The present sits on the couch in the background: an iPod and headphones.

The next photo is Megumi blowing out said candles, you can’t help but wonder what he wished for. You may not know, but Megumi remembers. He wished for his family to never break apart. And that Tsumiki would pass her upcoming test at the time.

The photo after that is Megumi’s face being shoved into the cake, Gojo’s wide grin almost making you imagine as if you were there yourself. The next picture is a grumpy Megumi summoning his dogs to attack Gojo, chocolate covering your boyfriend’s younger face.

You can’t help but laugh. “Megumi, you were so cute as a kid!”

You hear the dark-haired male grumble and see him look away, pink dusting his cheeks. “Whatever, no I wasn’t…”

“You were, gumi bearrrr!” Gojo teases. “Oh! That reminds me, I found these photos a while ago, thought you’d like them once you were older.”

A small envelope is slid to Megumi, neat handwriting addressing it to “My Son Megumi”. Inside the envelope are photographs and a note. The photos are of an infant, most likely fresh out of the mother’s womb, wrapped in the hospital swaddle. The baby is lying on a woman’s chest, she has erratic hair like Megumi’s.

The next photo has the same baby, now one year old. A man with a scar on his lip is propping the baby up and smiling, one that you can tell is rare. The cake in front of the small boy has a “1” candle, though it’s not lit since it’s probably burn the poor boy’s hand.

The next photo has the boy mid-step, the bottom of the photograph states “Megumi’s First Steps!” The photos continue for a while, up until the boy’s 5th birthday. You turn to Megumi, who you just realized has been reading the whole time.

“What’s the note say?” You tilt your head.

“…My parents left this for me.” You could barely hear from how quietly he spoke.

“They did?”

“Yeah.”

You rub his back and let him take in all the photos.

“Pretty cool that I managed to get them, huh?” Gojo breaks the silent tension.

“I don’t even want to know what strings you pulled.” Megumi scoffs and places the photos back into the envelope, storing it in his pocket carefully.

Gojo laughs and pokes his tongue out. “You’re so mean to me, gumi bear!”

“Enough with that nickname! What are you, twelve?”

You smile and watch them banter, gently placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Megumi.”

He stops his argument with Gojo and smiles to you, a rare one like his father’s. “Thanks.”

Masterlist

[poetsblvd]

BIRTHDAY PRINCESS ꪆৎ CL16

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.” He murmurs carefully gliding across the wooden flooring towards your bedroom.

Hands holding onto a breakfast tray filled with a vast selection of your favourite fruit, coffee, eggs and of course your birthday cake.

Strawberries, cherries, blueberries and bananas all cut up and prettily put into a pearly white bowl.

Sitting in the very middle of the tray a gorgeous white chocolate, lemon and raspberry bento cake iced in pink with the words ‘happy birthday, mon amour’ steals the show.

He’d be lying if he said he made it himself, God only knows what would have happened to you and your poor stomach should he have made a Charles special birthday cake.

His teeth still rung from his last attempt at a making a homemade meal for date night, pizza? More like chewing gum.

“Leo, Leoooo, viens, réveillons la princesse d'anniversaire!” The puppy excitedly wags his tiny tail, trotting on his legs and nuzzling into Charles’ feet. ( Come along, let’s wake the birthday princess up! )

Pushing the door open with his hip he grimaces as the cool door comes in contact with his bare skin, he looks to make sure you’re still asleep and smiles when he notices you covered under the large mound of the duvet with Leo laying at your feet having jumped up to snuggle near you.

He places the breakfast tray down and rushes softly and carefully to bring in the prettiest bouquet of pink flowers wrapped in brown paper and sealed with a soft white bow.

You’re the light of his life, he thinks as he moves towards you, seating himself on the edge of your side of the bed with a clear view of your cheeks smushed into the cool pillow — that he’s sure you unconsciously flipped not too long ago — and eyes covered with a silky champagne coloured eye mask.

He runs his knuckles down your cheek, unable to contain himself from feeling just a little bit of you in the calm of the morning.

“Mon trèsor, it’s your birthday. Joyeaux anniversaire.” The words are whispered and cool against your cheek, as he smears kisses over the tiny shred of skin peeking through the covers.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He smiles indulgent and kind to your whining in the morning, chuckling as you pull your head from the pillow and into his lap.

Stroking your hair softly he whispers kisses wherever he can find, “Come on darling girl, J'ai tous tes favoris ici, Leo aussi” ( I have all your favourites here, Leo too.” )

Separating your head from his lap — albeit reluctantly — he gets up to bring you the breakfast he’s prepared, that is most definitely edible, he checked too!

“See!” Rising slowly and pulling off your sleep mask, you blink at your boyfriend and the breakfast that he’s brought with him, eyes clumping with remnants of sleeping and working hard to clear any bleariness you smile at him all gentle and sweet, sending his heart into a right tizzy.

Grinning at you he cocks his head upwards a bit towards your headboard silently asking you to sit up, then placing the breakfast tray on your lap and joining you by your feet, next to a now dozing Leo.

“Happy birthday, amour.” Handing you flowers with one hand he rubs your leg with the other.

You smile bringing them up to your nose. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“Leo would tell you happy birthday too, but he’s very tired you see.”

Laughing at your sleeping dog you nod. “Is he?”

“Oh yes! It’s very hard to nap while someone’s making noise in the kitchen, Leo’s an absolute star for doing so without waking up.” He exaggerates his words with finesse, stroking Leo’s head and smiling up at you.

You giggle hands coming over your face as a bashful expression takes over Charles, he’s sure that no matter how long you two date he’s always going to be in awe of you, in awe of everything you do and say.

He’s sure the you could make the simplest thing in the world better, and he’s thankful everyday that he has the ability to make you laugh and bring you pockets of joy in your saddest moments, and further sweeten your happiest of days.

And this is the ideal ‘happy day’. It’s a birthday, your birthday. And he’ll be damned if it isn’t perfect.

He gets up slowly, walking over to you a lighter in his hand. “Cut the cake amour!”

He lights the candles on the cake and sings softly, “happy birthday to you…”.

He pecks your nose and pulls his phone out, positioning it towards you he snaps a few photos and continues singing softly as you smile over at him.

“Je t’aime tellement.”

“Je t’aime tellement aussi Cha, merci!” He moves forward and kisses your knuckles feeding you a bit of the cake.

“You don’t have to thank me my love, ever.” You smile pulling him in for a kiss, noses brushing and smiles joining, pulling away to laugh only when you feel the patter of a now awake Leo.

“Of course, he wakes up when he smells the food!”

“Oh Charlie, I hope this isn’t another pizza incident.”

“No! I checked this time amour I promise!”

“Okay Cha.”

And when you both fell ill the next day Charles swore it was the sushi you had for dinner and absolutely not the three day expired milk he unknowingly mixed in with the eggs.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , this is super cute and fluffy, and i’m so tired cause i’ve written this at 4:30 am, but thank you sm for requesting!! i hope you liked this <33

[lottieswidow]

I actually can’t stop thinking about Mari and Travis pre-crash friendship so yall get to hear about it too🤩 Some of these are add ons to other hcs I’ve seen😛 I LOVE MY LATINOJACKETS 🇲🇽 🇧🇷

Their mothers are friends and they grew up across the streets from each other. Regularly visited the others house for like a carne asada or some other event.

Coach Martinez and Mr. Ibarra became friends because of their wives and would watch soccer games together. Mrs Martinez and Mrs Ibarra would sit out in the back patio chismando while Mari, Travis, and Javi played in the backyard.

Mari actually has an older sister and a baby brother. By the time Mari and the boys were starting to hang out (around 5-6) her older sister already had her own personality and independence so she would go to her own friends house. At the same time Mari’s baby brother was yk a baby and too young to play with them.

Because Mari was older than the boys she got to choose what they played, Travis always thought it was unfair and Javi was just happy to be included. She had them playing Knights and Princesses but don’t be fooled, she was not a damsel in distress, she’s was lowkey a villain. They would go on ‘quests’ together then she’d take all the glory. Mari also had one of those crusty white dogs, they would pretend it was a dragon or some other creature during the game.

Mari is like a grade above Travis so they never had any classes together but they would ride the bus to and from school together. Javi would sit between them, Mari was closest to the window, and Travis was at the end in the aisle. This only happened in elementary school and some of middle school before they (specifically Mari) found other friends.

The end of bus rides together also caused the drift between them and they would act cordial, a nod of acknowledgment in the hall or a short wave from across the cafeteria, but they definitely weren’t as close as before.

When Mari’s baby cousin died she didn’t really know how to react. For days she was unresponsive to most questions, she would sit in her room staring at the wall for hours. Her mom was worried for her and expressed her concern to Mrs Martinez. They showed up the next day to give their condolences and tried to have Travis and Javi cheer her up.

Travis realized pretty quick that they couldn’t do much to cheer her up though. He sent Javi away so he could talk to her alone. They didn’t talk, they just sat and stared at the wall, he didn’t know how to comfort her but he knew he could show his support by being with her. After a couple minutes Mari leaned her head on his shoulder and cried. Travis let her, figured it was the first time she allowed herself to cry. They never brought it up again.

Shortly after, when Travis got his spinal fusion the Ibarras went to go visit, everyone went to go get food but Mari stayed. She thought about the day her cousin died and Travis could tell that she was but they didn’t say anything. Again they sat in silence, it was weirdly comforting for both of them.

Back in school they remained cordial, when Mari eventually got her drivers license her mom asked her to take the boys to school with her. Mari was pretty reluctant but after being threatened with the car being taken away all together she agreed. She wasn’t in the loop with other grades drama nor was she in the same circle as Bobby Farleigh so she had no idea about ‘Flex’

After the plane goes down and she calls him ‘Flex’ she didn’t really know the story behind it. She was scared and had heard the other girls calling him that so of course she got on the Travis hate train. It wasn’t genuine, she needed to blow off steam and was following the lead of the other varsity girls. Travis doesn’t say anything to her, it’s actually Natalie who tells Mari to quit it during the winter. When Mari learns the story she actually feels horrible because she remembers how 12 year old Travis looked in the hospital bed. That same night she apologizes to him in her own Mari way.

“Natalie told me what ‘flex’ means.” They’re in front of the fire place, Travis’s face flashes in anger for a second. He feels betrayed that Natalie would tell anybody, but then he realizes that it’s just Mari. The same Mari whom had played Knights and Princesses with him and his brother when they were younger, who had sat with him on the bus for seven years, who had packed in extra granola bar for him in the mornings when she would pick him up for school because he never had time to eat breakfast, who forced him to dance with her during the most important day of her adolescence.

He looks at her for a moment, wondering if she’ll continue but she just looks at the fire. Somehow Travis understands what Mari doesn’t have the guts to say. They sit in silence watching the fire as the wood crackles and smoke goes up the chimney.

The day Mari died Travis was too drunk to fully understand what had happened. His trap, intended for Lottie, had just killed Mari. He had killed Mari. Whether he wanted that to happen or not didn’t matter. He’d collected the wood, shaved it down, planted then covered it. It could be no one else’s fault but his own.

And as he sits around the fire with a piece of meat in his mouth, a piece of Mari, clarity washes over him and the noise of the others chewing fades out. He watches the fire, frozen in guilt, unable to hear anything besides his own heartbeat. Travis is reminded of the times he and Mari would sit in silence, with the only sound being heard is their breathing.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Puppy

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get a four-legged friend

After your contract with Arsenal runs out, you have a lot of options.

You could have had your pick of the WSL - United wanted you, City wanted you, Chelsea had made an expensive offer that you were more than happy to turn down. The NWSL had expressed an interest as well but America wasn't something you wanted.

It was only when you were wrapping up your last training session at Arsenal before the World Cup did you get a call from your agent.

"Barcelona," He says," They're interested. They're rivalling Chelsea in the amount of money they're willing to pay you."

You couldn't care less about the money. "Set up the meeting."

The meeting was merely a formality and soon, you were packing up your things from London, saying goodbye to Arsenal and flying to Barcelona.

Momma and Morsa come with you, helping you move in.

Morsa laments about the flight times. "It's a lot further than London," She tells you like you don't already know," Almost five hours from home."

You roll your eyes as you unpack another soft blanket. "Morsa, I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll call Tia Tana or Alexia. I'm not completely helpless."

"Your Morsa is just having a hard time adjusting," Momma assures you," She doesn't like the fact that you're leaving properly."

You roll your eyes again. "I already left properly."

Momma cradles your face. "Try telling her that. You're always going to be her little girl."

You huff but don't argue any longer, preoccupied with placing little knick-knacks on your shelves. At the bottom of one of the boxes is your childhood pet, Rocky the rock. You look at him fondly before giving him pride of place next to your medals.

"You still have that?" Morsa laughs as she joins you.

You roll your arms. "Hey! The bond between a girl and her pet rock is indescribable. Rocky is an important part of who I am."

"You and that rock-"

"His name's Rocky!"

"-Are so cute. You used to take that everywhere with you."

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't let me get a puppy or a kitten."

"I think a puppy or a kitten would have been too much for the three of us," Momma says," We already had our hands full with you."

You scoff. "I was an angel."

"Hmm," Morsa says, pressing a kiss to your temple," Most of the time."

She and Momma exchange a look briefly and you're instantly suspicious when you catch Momma's phone getting a notification that you instantly see her clear from her screen.

"What are you two up to?"

Both of them smile even more suspiciously as there's a knock on the door.

"This isn't finished."

"I think it is," Momma murmurs behind you as you swing open the door.

"Hola!"

"Hola, Tia Tana," You say before suddenly falling silent.

There's a wriggling puppy in her arms and you coo softly, hand out for it to lick.

It's a Spitz of some kind. You're not sure which but it's definitely a Spitz. Those are your favourite kind of dogs. It's got a kind of reddish fur that looks really pretty and he's full of little wiggly energy that's absolutely adorable.

"He's so pretty, Tia Tana," You say as she lets him loose," I didn't know you got a dog."

"I didn't."

You sit on the floor with the puppy. "He's so cute. It is a he, right?"

Tia Tana nods. "It's a boy."

"You're so cute," You say to him, letting him jump up on your lap," Yes, you are. A very handsome boy. Like a little prince."

"A prince for our princesse," Morsa says," How do you like him?"

You don't quite understand what she means so you just coo over your new friend. You wished he was Tia Tana's so you could see him more often.

"Are you puppy sitting?" You ask her," He's so sweet."

Tia Tana laughs. "In a way," She says," I'm handing him off to his owner today. He's had all of his shots. He's been neutered and everything."

"He's so cute. I'd love to have a word with your owner. You're too handsome to let go."

"That's good," Momma says," Because he's staying with you."

You look up in shock, brows furrowed. "What?"

"We'd feel better if you had some company," Morsa explains," So we got into contact with Aitana before you moved to see if she could find a puppy for you."

"He's a Finnish Spitz," Tia Tana says with a smile," His Mami was very sociable and his Papa goes on runs with his owner. I'm sure he could keep up with you."

You look between the three of them. "Really?"

"Yes," Momma says with the smallest of smiles," He's yours, princesse. Why don't you give him a name?"

"Prins," You say instantly and your mothers start laughing.

"What's funny?" Tia Tana asks.

"His name means prince," Morsa laughs," Truly, a little prince for our princesse."

Prins barks, his little tail wagging. You stroke your fingers through his fur.

"We need to go back out," You say suddenly," We have to get him food! And a bed! And toys!"

"Already done," Tia Tana says," It's all being delivered soon."

You look down at Prins. He looks up at you, curly little tail wagging happily as he nibbles at your shirt sleeve with his little baby teeth.

"This is the best gift ever!"

[sophiethewitch1]

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

[muqingslover]

[ Back on my doomed childhood boys agenda yippieeee!! This one is a more long kinda fic style of my take on their relationship! For the people who are new: I'm basically just exploring their vulnerability and dynamic with each other bc I think it's neat!

I'll be splitting this one into two parts that I plan on posting as soon as im done proofreading \⁠(⁠๑⁠╹⁠◡⁠╹⁠๑⁠)⁠ﾉ FYI: First part is more centered around Caleb and the next one around Zayne!

Also! Please give me tag name ideas specifically for these posts!! ]

Zayne and Caleb have a complicated relationship. It wasn't hard to realize if anyone was to spend more than ten minutes in the same room as them.

You were their everything; Their first love, their most precious person and the one they'd both do anything for. They wanted nothing more than to make sure you were happy and safe regardless of where you were.

That fact soon extended into looking out for each other so you never needed to worry about either of them. Or well, that's how it started as anyway.

Caleb sometimes got into fights without your knowledge to protect you from the neighborhood troublemakers that wanted to bully you. It wasn't a big deal, really. But, during that time, he wasn't the biggest or the strongest and naturally he came out looking a bit rough.

"Again?" Zayne sighed when he found the other sitting near your house like a watch dog, looking all bruised up and disheveled. He expected this 'phase' of his to naturally pass as they grew older, but it didn't quite fully go away. Well, nothing that involved you ever simply disappeared with Caleb.

"Piss off." He huffed roughly as he wiped the blood from his split lip and crossed his arms over his chest like he was a pouty child instead of an edgy teen. Zayne was always amazed by the stark contrast of how he acted when you weren't around— The boarding on childish sulking, unmeasured words, constant grumpy or simply uninterested look on his face and his boyish, petty behavior. Part of him couldn't begin to imagine how exhausting it must be to always be putting on an act in front of someone he loves, to repress everything about who he is for the sake of being flawless.

"Let me take a look." He sat next to him as he reached into his bag for some of the emergency supplies he carried with him exactly for situations such as these. In the beginning there was a lot of "acting tough" from Caleb but by bringing up the fact you would be very upset if you were to find out the real reason as to why he was all beaten up he quickly piped down. This was basically routine now— The way Zayne would receive nasty glares because the alcohol stung, the grumbles about how this was nothing "compared to the other guys" and how the other refused to meet his eyes while he patched up the small wounds that littered his skin.

Caleb found...uncomfortable how he was always so earnest. Zayne always had that same "dumb, dead fish" look on his face and yet he was so....Genuine. More than he will ever get to be. His sharp, green eyes seemed to peel away each layer that he so carefully kept wrapped around himself to stay hidden from the world, hidden from you, laying him bare effortlessly and he didn't like that. No, he hated it.

After all, to Caleb, love is about being everything you want and more. It's about twisting himself into knots for your comfort. It's about living and dying for you without hesitation because nothing else, not even himself, matters if you're by his side. He will be who you need him to be and if that means throwing away who he truly is then he will do it gladly.

Still, sometimes, only sometimes, his mind would beg for a break. Only a small moment of respite where he didn't have to overthink about each of the expressions he made or triple check his actions.

Zayne never needed to find out that when he was by his side it was as if he could really breathe. It was just...easy. He didn't expect anything from him nor did Caleb want to impress the other in any way. Sure, he wanted to prove he was better than that "four eyes" was for you, but he never felt the desperate need to keep that facade he kept with you when it was just them. Nothing between them felt rehearsed or forced, not even when they lent each other a hand. How can someone Caleb dislikes so much bring him such peace remains to this day a mystery to him.

[dreaming-medium]

Just Look Up

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x reader

Word count: 4.4K

Tags: Angst, pining, fluff, best friends to lovers

Summary: Seungmin’s been watching you from an arm’s length for so long, his heart yearning to be closer to you. All he wants is to to hold you, to be held by you. Why can’t you just look up and notice how much he loves you? Why do you stay with your horribly toxic boyfriend when Seungmin’s right there?

Author’s note: Please listen to this song and picture Seungmin singing it, oh god it destroys me.

Warning!!! The reader has a pretty toxic boyfriend in this fic!!

————————————————————————

How are you this perfect? How can you go day to day being so flawless and not even realize just how breathtaking you are?

After being best friends for years, there isn’t a single hour of the day that Seungmin hasn’t seen you at, and never once have you been anything but amazing. Even when your hair is frizzy and tied up, face puffy from sleep, eyes bleary and asymmetrical, you’re still gorgeous.

Just the thought of you alone has Kim Seungmin weak in the knees. Every little quirk of yours drives him crazy. From the way you stick your tongue out when you concentrate to the way you always overcook your rice.

He craves the simple, sweet, delightful smell of your apartment. The way your TV is always on even if you’re not watching it. The way every room in the house is spotless except for your bedroom which goes from organized to a disaster in just a few short days.

Seungmin can never get enough of you. Never has been able to, and he never will.

Which is why it hurts so bad that you’re with someone else. You and your boyfriend have been together for four months. Four painful, excruciating months.

The guy doesn’t even understand how good he has it. He does t grasp how lucky he is to have captured your heart.

What is Seungmin supposed to do when he comes over for movie night and that jackass is sitting on the couch next to you? His stomach flips and churns uncontrollably until he makes up some lame excuse to leave early.

Your boyfriend doesn’t even treat you the way you deserve and it boils Seungmin’s blood.

Right before his very eyes, he watches as your chump of a boyfriend drops your hand when you tried to hold it during a big group dinner. Seungmin had been sitting directly across from the two of you at the large table full of a mixed bag of friends.

Innocently, and with the most adorable smile ever, you reached down and laced your fingers with your boyfriends. As if you burned him, he drops your hand and motions down to his food.

“How am I supposed to eat if you’re holding my hand?” he asks with an annoyed tilt to his tone.

“Oh,” you frown, that gorgeous smile of yours was wiped off your face. “Sorry, hon.”

“It’s whatever,” he replies and goes back to the conversation that he was in beforehand.

Meanwhile Seungmin was seething. He watched the entire interaction like some sort of car accident. Does the guy need two hands to eat? What kind of lame excuse was that?

The rest of the night, your mood was different. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. And your laughter sounded fake and hollow.

No one seemed to notice.

No one except for Seungmin who took it upon himself to go up to the bar and order your favorite drink on his way to the bathroom. He told the waiter not to say anything about him being the one to order it.

It was already in front of you when he returned from the restroom.

“Look, Minnie!” you chirp while he’a sitting down. “The bartender said they made an extra by accident and gave us this drink on the house!”

A rainbow stretches over his heart at how happy you sound. But dark clouds come crashing through just as quickly.

Your boyfriend look down at the drink as you were about to take your first sip.

“Hey!” he calls out and places his hand over the top of the drink before you could even taste it. “You’re the one driving home.”

Your expression fell. “What? But you said you would drive home this time.” You look around the table and lower your voice to keep it between the two of you. “I’ve driven home every time we’ve gone out, I never get to—“

Your boyfriend slides the drink away from in front of you at the same time he kisses your lips gently. You don’t respond to the kiss at all, you don’t even close your eyes. “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”

He leans away from you and picks the drink up, taking a sip from the straw. His face twists up in a disgusted expression.

“Fuck, what even is this?” he asks, looking down at the drink.

“It’s a Long Island…” you murmur, looking down at the table.

“Who drinks this shit?” He places it down on the table and pushes it away from him.

You do. It’s your favorite drink. You always order a Long Island no matter where you go. How does the guy not know that? What boyfriend doesn’t know his girlfriend’s favorite drink?

What kind of shit head does that?

Seungmin is seeing red. He wants to vault the table and throttle the guy. His shoulders are shaking he’s so angry.

Your demeanor drops even further through the floor, taking Seungmin’s heart with you. No matter what conversation anyone tries to pull you into, you only offer one word answers.

Your boyfriend barely pays any mind to you.

Seungmin nudges your ankle underneath the table. You look up at him with dull eyes. He motions for a writing utensil in the air.

You think for a moment, turning and fishing through your purse until you pull out a pen and hand it to him.

He flips the paper placemat over on the table and draws a tic-tac-toe board on the back. He draws one ‘X’ in a box and then slides it across the table at you.

When you look down, the corner of your lip quirks in a tiny smile. You take the pen and draw an ‘O’ in another box, then slide it back to him.

This continues a few times before the game comes out to a tie.

Wordlessly, he meets your eyes with a cocked eyebrow. You nod. He draws another board and you do it again.

With each X and O that’s drawn on the back of the paper placemat, life returns to your eyes. You even let out a few giggles when Seungmin makes a ridiculously terrible move.

Each and every game comes out in a tie until you make a specific, unbeatable move. Seungmin looks down at the board for a few drawn out seconds.

He bites his lip with a grin. “There’s no move I can do that you won’t win.”

“I know!” you cheer and laugh. “I mastered the technique.”

“You didn’t master shit,” he grumbles in fake annoyance. “You cheated.”

Balking, you gasp. “I never cheat, Kim Seungmin.”

“Well, you just cheated at tic-tac-toe so you’re also a liar.”

“I didn’t cheat!

“Did so.”

“Did n—“ You’re cut off by a hand on your arm.

“We’re going.” Your boyfriend’s voice is gruff, slurred, and a bit agitated.

For what seems like the hundredth time tonight, your face falls when you look at him. “What do you mean? We just finished dinner and I thought that we’re going to the karaoke bar after this.”

“Not anymore.” He grabs your jacket off the back of your chair. “Come on, get your purse, we’re going.”

“But—“

“We’re going.”

Your body tenses and your mouth flies shut.

By the flush that crawls up your neck, Seungmin can tell you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that you would let someone speak to you this way. Embarrassed because now most of your friends were watching you both closely.

You’ve always hated confrontation.

You take a deep breath and push back from the table, seemingly giving up. Seungmin has had enough.

“I think she wants to stay,” Seungmin says from across the table. “Can’t you call an Uber or have someone else take you home?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes flash with anger. “Hey, why don’t you stay out of our business?”

Seungmin’s nose twitches, he’s gripping the pen in his hand so hard it might snap in half.

“I just think that you’re ignoring the fact that she doesn’t want to leave.”

You look over at Seungmin. “It’s okay, Minnie. I’ll go out another time, promise.”

His gaze softens when you call his name.

“Yeah, Minnie, she’ll go out another time.” Your slime of a significant other slides his arm around your waist and pulls you away from the table.

You only fight his pull for a moment, glaring at the side of your boyfriend’s face before looking over at Seungmin one last time.

You’re apologizing with your eyes. Seungmin can read you too well. The two of you never needed words to communicate.

Then, you’re gone. And everyone else around him continues to talk as if nothing happened.

Seungmin flexes his jaw while he fights back his anger. A small part of him wants to run after the two of you and deck your boyfriend in the parking lot.

But, it’s not worth it. Who knows how you’d react to that.

He looks down at the paper placemat and draws your final ‘O’, drawing the line across to signify your win.

Seungmin doesn’t go to the karaoke bar that night either.

____________________________________

It was the next night when you texted him.

[January 10 1:26 AM]

Y/N: Are you awake?

Seungmin was about three seconds from sleep when his phone buzzed. Normally, he would ignore it and answer in the morning, but something in his brain told him to roll over and check anyway.

His eyes widened at your text, his thumbs flying to answer you.

Seungmin: I am, what’s up?

Y/N: Can you come over?

This late? You’re asking him to come over now? Sure, it’s a Saturday but it’s still strange.

Y/N: Please. I need you here.

Seungmin: I’ll be there in 10

He only took seven minutes to get to your apartment. The other three were spent jogging through the parking lot and up the stairs to your floor.

Only one knock lands on the door before you rip it open.

Seungmin’s heart falls through his chest.

You’re looking up at him with red rimmed, glassy eyes. Tears flowing down your flushed cheeks.

“Hi, Minnie,” you choke out.

Seungmin steps inside and looks all over your body, trying to find any sign of an injury or anything. “What’s going on?” he asks in alarm.

He cups your cheeks and looks in your eyes after kicking the door shut. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you cry. “‘M sorry if I scared you.” Another sob wracks your chest. You throw your arms around Seungmin, burying your face into his chest. His own arms immediately fly around your body.

“I broke up with him,” you mumble into Seungmin’s hoodie.

It’s shameful how his spirits lifted. Internally, Seungmin wants to pump his fist in the air and jump around. He wants to stand on your balcony and scream victory at the top of his lungs.

But externally, he keeps his cool, one hand moving to rub your back in soothing circles.

Fucking finally.

“What happened?” he asks gently, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You force a dry laugh. “It’s been coming for a while, I couldn’t fucking stand the way he talked to me last night.”

Seungmin laughs under his breath. Yeah, yeah he saw it. He wasn’t the only one that wondered why the hell you were still with the guy.

“He always talked to me like trust. I just…” You sniff and bury your face further into Seungmin’s hoodie. “I think I just liked having someone, you know?”

Seungmin’s heart clenches.

“It was nice having someone who at least pretended to like me like that.”

Do you not see him? Do you not see the way he looks at you whenever you walk into a room? How his entire demeanor perks up by your very presence?

If he had a tail, it would wag whenever you blessed him with your presence.

You let out another sob and hold him closer. “God, why am I crying so much?”

Seungmin grabs both of your upper arms and rubs up and down a few times. “Here,” he says gently. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and I’ll make you some tea, okay?”

Nodding, you pull away from him and wipe at your cheeks with your sweater sleeves. “Yeah, okay.”

He reaches out and uses his own sweatshirt sleeve to wipe at your cheeks with great care. “I’ll only be a few seconds, okay?”

Again, you nod. But your body makes no move away from him. You lean into his gentle touch, craving the closeness of it all. Eyes sliding close, your lip quivers with more cries.

His fingers poke out from the sleeve and run down your tear-stained cheek. His hands are always so warm.

It could be the dead of winter or the middle of summer, his hands were always warmer than yours. But even an ice sculpture’s body held more heat than yours did.

On several occasions, you would shove your hands into Seungmin’s pockets to thaw your frozen digits.

He can still remember last winter where you unzipped his huge, puffy jacket and then zipped it back up with you inside of it, your back to his chest. Seungmin can’t remember a time where his heart was beating faster than that day.

He had warmed you right back up, gladly sharing his body heat to keep you toasty warm. He even went as far as wrapping his scarf around both of you.

The bus came late that night to pick the two of you up from that stop and he was grateful for every single second he got to spend wrapped around you.

You’ve always been his soft spot.

Seungmin cups your cheeks with both hands, thumbs swiping away the tears that keep falling. Your tongue pokes from your lips and then you bring your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Tea will make you better,” he whispers. Seungmin leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead.

The happy sigh that you let out doesn’t escape his notice. It was a sigh that was reserved for when you were relaxing after being tense for so long.

He’s heard it after you’ve kicked your shoes off after a long work day. After the first bite of a hot dinner. After curling up in a cozy blanket on Friday night.

And now when his lips meet your skin.

It wraps around his heart and squeezes even tighter.

He pulls away first and nudges you backwards a bit. “Go sit down.”

“Okay,” you answer with a whisper, turning and making your way to the couch while he moves into the kitchen.

He meanders around like it’s second nature, there’s not a single dish in your kitchen that he doesn’t know where it is.

There’s a pan full of cold food sitting on top of the stove. It looks like it was never served.

So, you haven’t even eaten.

Seungmin clicks the burner on to reheat the food while he switches the electric kettle on.

When he comes in with a full plate of food and hot tea, you’re on your phone with a scowl on your face.

“What is it?” He decides to be nosy.

“He’s texting me.” You don’t look up at Seungmin as he places everything on the coffee table in front of you.

“Don’t answer,” he says simply.

“I’m not. But he’s just…” you trail off. “Being so mean.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow. “Show me.”

You only hesitate for a moment before showing him your phone.

[January 10 2:02 AM]

DON’T ANSWER: I’ll be here when you decide to stop being a bitch and remember you need me.

DON’T ANSWER: As if you could even do any better than me, did you think about that? Have you seen yourself and then looked at me?

DON’T ANSWER: You’re the one who said relationships are all about compromise and some shit. So why are you making all the fucking rules?

DON’T ANSWER: so now you’re not even going to answer??? You’re leaving me on read??

DON’T ANSWER: cunt

DON’T ANSWER: couldn’t even give good head, what good are you for anyway.

The rage Seungmin felt last night is nothing compared to what he feels right now. His hands are shaking with thinly veiled anger. His eyebrows are furrowed so much his face might start cramping.

He grabs your phone away from you and looks closer at the texts to make sure his eyes are seeing this right.

“Don’t say anything,” you say quickly.

“I won’t,” Seungmin replies angrily. His teeth might shatter from how hard he’s clenching his jaw.

Who the fuck says this to someone? Someone with a majorly bruised ego, that’s who.

He takes it upon himself to tap through your ex-boyfriend’s contact and block him. Your phone is thrown onto the coffee table soon after.

You don’t address it. You sip your tea and take an uneasy bite out of your food.

Seungmin’s leg starts bouncing on the floor. He’s never been a particularly angry guy, his emotions are always in check. Usually with situations that get him upset, he lets it roll off his shoulders.

But that’s when it’s about him. This is about you.

You, who finally stood up for yourself and you’re getting shit for it.

The sound of the plate and mug being placed on the coffee table hits his ears.

“Minnie,” you say gently, letting your hand slide up his arm. “I think you’re more upset about those texts than I am.”

Seungmin huffs and bites his lip. “How could he say that shit about you?”

“I wounded his fragile ego, that’s why,” you chuckle dryly.

Your touch is soothing. Like an ice pack on a burn.

“What happened?” he asks, looking over at you. “What happened between the two of you?”

You gulp and avoid his eyes. “After last night when we got home, I didn’t say a word to him, I didn’t have the energy for it. I dropped him off at his apartment and he got so mad that I didn’t stay the night.”

Your legs pull up under you, your hand drops from Seungmin’s arm to wrap around yourself. “He came over tonight since we usually have dinner on Saturdays together and just… everything went to shit before we ate. I told him how he spoke to me and acted yesterday was unacceptable and he just went off on me.”

You’re right, though. It was unacceptable. It was uncalled for, rude, toxic, disgusting, all the above.

“I said I was done. He blew up; spouting all this nonsense about how he’s the best I’ll ever have and blah blah blah.” You pause and let out another dry laugh of disbelief. “It’s funny cause he’s actually the worst. Even my dumb high school and college boyfriends were better than him.”

A small furl of jealousy bubbles in Seungmin’s gut, but he stamps it down.

“Why were you with him for so long, Y/N?” The questions comes out of his mouth before he could stop it. You stayed with the guy for four months, about to hit five.

You swallow thickly. “Loneliness?” You shrug and fiddle with your hands in your lap. “I… I liked the way he looked at me in the beginning I guess. It made me feel wanted.”

How was he looking at you any differently than Seungmin was? He stares at you every single day with his big puppy dog eyes just waiting for you to look up!

Just look up!

“I was…” Again, you hesitate, trailing off and biting your lip nervously. “I was trying to get over someone else truth be told. After pining for so long I couldn’t take the one sidedness of it.”

Seungmin feels his heart crack. God, how much more of this can he take? Even before all of this, someone else had your heart?

“So, it’s like I’m back to square one again.” You run your fingers through your already messy hair.

“You still have feelings for this person?”

“Yeah.” You look around the room and then directly at Seungmin. “They never went away. Maybe that’s why I’m so upset. Not because of my ex but because I have to go back to yearning for him to just look up and see how much I like him.”

He’s trying so hard to be a good friend, he really is. His happiness at your freedom was so short lived. He got, what? Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes of hope.

But he needs to be supportive.

“Y/N.” His voice cracks when he says your name. “You’re… amazing and beautiful and intelligent. I’m sure whoever has your heart would bend over backwards for an opportunity to be with you.”

Your eyes sparkle when he speaks.

Fuck, stop making this harder than it already has to be, please.

“You think so?”

“I know so. If it’s a guy, you just gotta be direct. Look him right in the eye and say ‘I have feelings for you’”

You tongue your cheek and think about something for a long five seconds before speaking up again. You stare at Seungmin directly in the eye and speak.

“I have feelings for you.”

“Yeah, just like that. See? It’s easy.”

“I have feelings for you,” you repeat with a little more feeling. He can’t look at you anymore. It hurts too much.

Seungmin’s head hangs down a bit, hair falling in front of his eyes. “Yeah, Y/N. You got the hang of it.”

“No, Seungmin.” You crawl closer to him on the couch until you’re kneeling directly next to him. You take his face in both of your hands. “I have feelings for you.”

What?

Is the world still turning? Is he awake? Is he interpreting this right? Are you still practicing?

“Huh?” Smooth, Kim, smooth.

“Seungmin, I have feelings for you. I have for so long and I was so scared of losing you as a friend so I didn’t say anything.”

His brain is malfunctioning. His heart surely is going to explode from the fluctuations in his heart rate.

Him? You had feelings for him this whole time? Is he breathing?

“It just seemed like you didn’t feel the same, so I kept it to myself and tried to move on. I’m sorry if this makes things awkward between us.”

“Me?” The word is hoarse when it comes out.

“Yes, you.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Yes, Seungmin.”

“Oh my god.”

He says it under his breath as his body acts on its own. He grabs your face the same way you’re holding his and smashes your lips together.

It feels so right. Your lips are so soft against his, he could cry. They’re everything he dreamed they would be and more. No amount of daydreaming compares to how it feels to finally kiss you.

His bottom lip slots between both of yours while his hands slide all over your body. They start on your face just for one to thread in your hair while the other comes down to your waist.

Your mouths open and close like mirror images of one another, lips sliding over each other. Your own fingers slide into his hair while the other caresses his jawline as it moves.

He could die right now and he would be happy. Anyone could tell him anything and it would be okay.

Seungmin would give you the world if you asked him to. He’s absolutely on cloud nine, his head in space.

Small hums and groans come from both of your throats the longer your mouths slide over one another. He’s never felt more alive, more awake than he does right now.

He can barely feel his legs.

Seungmin didn’t even realize how much he was leaning into you until you lose your balance and fall back on the couch, his body quickly coming up to hover over yours.

Your lips don’t stay separated for long at all.

When they meet again, your tongue slides along his lips and Seungmin swears he hears angels singing. You taste like tea and happiness.

Your tongues tango for a while. His chest flush against yours. Can you feel his heart hammering against his rib cage? Can you taste the years of desperation on his lips?

All this time he thought you were just ships passing in the night.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N,” he murmurs into your mouth. You suck on his bottom lip and a shiver races up Seungmin’s spine. “You’re the one that needed to look up, idiot.”

Pulling back, you stare up at him like he hung the moon.

“Do you mean it?” Your fingers trail over his face, tracing the soft lines of his features. When they run over his lips, he purses and kisses the pads.

“Every word.” He grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek. “These past few months have been torture, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for so long for you to see me like I see you.”

You gulp and stare deeply into those big, brown puppy dog eyes. “I can’t believe it. This is real, right?”

With a laugh, Seungmin pinches your side with his free hand. You yelp and giggle.

“I should ask you to pinch me.”

You grin wider.

His eyes fall to your lips. Seungmin is only able to control himself for another three seconds before he dips down and captures them with his own once more.

Your smile doesn’t fade even as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s so contagious that his own grin blossoms against your sweet lips.

The long, heated kisses dissolve into delicate pecks since neither of you can control your happiness. Your lips are stretched too wide to properly interlock them.

The happiness shared between your hearts is overflowing. The dams that were holding back your feelings for years have finally burst.

No longer do you need to hang onto fleeting moments and cling to hoodies forgotten at your apartment.

You sigh. Your happy little sigh huffs out of your nose.

Seungmin’s heart sings with joy, it grows wings and flies from his chest and into orbit. You’re everything he ever needed.

And all he needed to do was look up.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“God, I love you too.”

[obsessive-valentine]

How would Dark-Yandere!Farmer react to finding reader taking Polaroid photo shoots of his retired senior dogs in silly clothing like sunglasses, hair clips, etc. Btw love your writing keep up the good work!🫶🏼

Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader

TW - Readers def developing Stockholm Syndrome or something of the sort, nothing else though this fix is sweeter as an apology for the intense one last time about reader being punished. This was meant to be a qick paragraph or two as an answer but I got to deep into lore and this sweet scenario as it’s a side of him we don’t see much. Thanks for the idea glad you’re liking this blog❤️

I’ll proof read later

You’d expressed an interest in his old cameras after he let you rummage through a few boxes he’d stored away. In a box he’s got a old digital camera a Polaroid one and then a really fragile one that’s much older than the rest, you didn’t dare pick it up in fear it would fall adapt just by touch. Then at the bottom of the box, a few images, some developed film some printed. You recognised him in some home images or family portraits, he looked like a happy kid with a cheesy grin sometimes even pictured on this very farm but most of them look to be taken in a small town house.

It’s weird to imagine at one point he was just a normal kid, living a normal life, photos of him blowing out candles on his birthday or with some older family members reminded you that no ones born ‘bad’. Makes you wonder why he’s the way he is now, what happened?

A part of you wanted to take one of those sweet images of him as a child and hide it away, to uncover and re-remind yourself he’s not a living monster but a human and a kind one at times. To ground yourself when he gets angry and all you can see him as is a living demon. To set the aspiration that if he was once so -he can be again.

You recognised a woman from the images as his mother because he kept a image of her in the bedside draw, she looked loving and kind. But he’d never talk about her, answering your careful questions about her with “she was a good mother” or “she was an admirable woman” he seemed emotionally withdrawn about it so you didn’t push it. You figured since she’s dead he’s just remembering her face.

The rest of the pictures seemed to be from the building of this farm, dated on the back in scruffy hands writing, maybe by his father or grandfather. You could look through this pile of history for hours, not just to learn more about your captor but about the history of this place and the his family that he’s so reluctant to talk about.

The ladder to the attic creaks behind you and his distinct heavy boots land with a thud and groan on the ladder steps “what’s got you so occupied up here?” You felt like you’d been caught looking in something you shouldn’t have despite having permission “j-just these cameras, I had a polaroid camera once” you turned to him showing him the old camera, he now off the ladder and standing over you.

“Hmm, old thing -maybe older than us” he gently took it from you hands to inspect it “probably still works if you want it, not any use just sitting up here” he hands it back “thank you” you reply with a smile he waves you off and crouches down beside the box with you. He shuffles through it completely ignoring the images from his past and he rummages in search of something “No film stacks though, I’ll pick some up from town next time”

“Really?” You look over at him in excitement, he shrugs “sure” he stands up ready to head back down stairs “had I known you’d be so happy I’d have gotten you one sooner” he chuckles at your excitement over something so small.

To you it’s much more than a old camera to take up some free time when you get bored. It’s yours, you can control it, keep it for your own. You don’t have much things that’s yours anymore but the collections growing.

...

You’d basically forgotten about getting film for your camera as a week or two had passed. But he hadn’t, he returned to the truck once again being one of may shops he had to stop at. But this time he didn’t have heavy bags of stock or material and tools for the farm but just 3 small boxes that he could carry in just one hand.

He sat down in his seat and extended his hand to give you the boxed, you furrowed your brows in confusion until you read one of the box’s. A big smile plastered you face when you got to the word ‘film’ “that should be enough to last you a long while” “thank you” you grinned giving him a quick hug out of appreciation.

Once you both pulled into the driveway of the farm you had already thought up many picture opportunities, and you couldn’t wait to get to it. The car parked and he gave you the go ahead “You can finally get to your photography, take some pretty pictures” you practically ran to the house to retrieve the camera.

...

You’d been in the house for a hour or two at this point and he’d began to get a bit concerned, usually you’d come outside now and then or spend the afternoon in the barn playing with the animals. But no sign of you. He put the final nail into the fence he was fixing and decided to come check on you.

He got to the front door and could hear you laughing before even opening it “good boy Berty, you’re so handsome” his curiosity peaked at those words, he quietly made his way to the room you and presumably Berty the elderly farm dog was in and observed from the door frame.

There you sat, infront of Berty whose dressed up in various items and fabrics mimicking clothes. The camera clicks and your silent as you watch it develop, Berty still sits patiently. “We got the picture, look at how dapper you look” you praise him and he gets exited leaving all the items fall off his as he runs up to you to get pet.

“When I said pretty pictures I was envisioning landscapes or with artistic vision” he jokes still standing in the door way unable to not smile at such a bizarre but cute sight. You stand shocked for a moment, he’s not one to creep up on you, it when you see his amused smile you loosen back up. “This is artistic vision, and Bertys my muse, look at how handsome” you joke and show him the photo “it’s something alright” he almost laughs out.

“Hey, this is worthy of a museum, the composition the choice of colours the muse, it all tells a story” you continue to joke, he just shakes his head unable to wipe away his smile “as long as your happy, I guess” “I am, thank you again” moments like this you forget everything you went though and are able to exist in ignorance.

Those moments are becoming more frequent now especially since he’s began to become more relaxed, he wasn’t as authoritarian anymore, your sure if you pushed it he wouldn’t have a 2nd thought of going back to the way things were. There’s always that lingering threat but it’s not as pronounced anymore. You’re starting to see the love he has for you, sometimes unconventional and deranged possessiveness but moments like this, seeing him smile and joke you can delude yourself into believing he’s a normal partner.

He brings you in closer by the hips “you’re so cute” his grin is akin to the little boy in those pictures, you’ve seemed to restore a part of his childish cheer. He pecks your lips “I bet the barn animals are missing you, maybe you should take this photography session to them, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the attention”

And that’s what you did, dressed up the chickens though they didn’t stay still -the cows were great models -but a few animals tried to eat the accessories and clothing which made things harder. The farmer got less work done than normal that afternoon as he found it quite amusing and cute watching you through the cracked barn door trying to wrestle a bow onto a goat.

[crownpastelyellow]

Hi I wrote something based on @chlmngo art from the most recent magma (go post it buddy 👀👀) EVERYONE GO LOOK AT IT

Skizz's Poker vod really did it to us

Pairing: Tango/Skizz

Cw: handjob, voyeurism, probable poker inaccuracies

NSFW under the cut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63236437

A losing hand

Tango got invited to Doc's poker tournament a few weeks ago and how could he say no? His love for the game and interest in actually seeing how this place works have built up a certain excitement in him. 

He's only seen the place once, briefly and he doesn't even quite remember what it was but something peeved him. Maybe he just had a bad day. So with a shrug and plenty of anticipation, Tango accepts the invitation. 

Over the next weeks he makes sure his suit is all ready and freshly cleaned from the last time he wore it on a little vacation. 

When the day finally arrives, Tango gets himself ready, shaving off some unruly bits of his scruffy beard, making sure he feels nice and comfortable in his suit. He normally isn't one for fancy clothing but there's always an occasion where one might need one. And he can't deny that the burgundy suits him surprisingly well. 

Most days Tango doesn't care much about what he wears, it's more about the practicality, but for tonight, confidence is key. How else would a good poker face work, if he wasn't comfortable and confident? 

So he arrives at the scene and chats a bit to his friends, or for tonight, his opponents. Of course it is all lighthearted fun but beneath all that, it's still a tournament and each and every one of them is just a little competitive at the least. Some more so than others. 

After a few minutes they head inside and Tango can't help but be impressed by the place Doc created beneath the shopping district. Part gentlemen's club, part speakeasy, with a fancy poker table in the middle. 

As they talk about the rules, Ren sits down at the head of the table, taking a new deck fresh out of the packaging, shuffling it back and forth as Doc goes over the rules, suggesting they do a trial run so everyone can understand how the redstone mechanics influence the game. 

Everyone takes a seat, Tango sitting at a smaller end of the table, both diagonally from Beef and Skizz. 

The chair is comfortable and Tango feels ready and excited. 

So when Ren presses the button to start their test round, everyone gets their cards. Everyone, besides Tango of course. The universe just favors him like that. 

He grumbles something about "faulty redstone, huh?", giving Doc a look of understanding and mischief, when Skizz interrupts. "Come here, Top, got a seat free right here!" Skizz waves him over. 

Internally Tango groans and his expression must have matched that because Skizz immediately keeps going "Don't you dare make that face at me. Come on, you love sitting next to me" with the brightest grin on his face.

So Tango pushes his chair back, leaving the faulty seat behind and walking around the table to sit down right between Skizz and Wels, who joined them just a minute ago. Before he even gets there, Skizz already pulled out the free chair for him, patting the seat patiently. Tango can only shake his head, what is he, a dog? Still he can't help the smile as he sits down. "Here, happy now?" he looks up at Skizz with a smirk on his face that gets replaced by a small gasp as Skizz pushes the chair, now with Tango on it, forwards, towards the table. 

He's definitely sitting quite a bit closer to Skizz than to Wels but no one is saying anything and at this point it would feel rude to just scoot away from his friend so Tango decides to do what he often does - and just lives with it. 

Before the first round starts, Skizz laughs and puts an arm on the back of Tango's chair, brushing slightly against his tail that immediately gives way, curling around Tango's own ankle, a reflex to make sure no one ever steps on it. Skizz leans over and tauntingly offer his own seat and when Tango declines he can see a triumphant smirk spread on Skizz's face "No I got position on you", causing Tango to only shake his head. 

The first rounds go by ever so uneventfully. Tango tries to push his luck but, most of the time, it just isn't on his side, his cards varying from trash to moderately decent as he slowly goes through his diamonds. Folding round after round, while Skizz next to him keeps mumbling about his strategy, trying to analyze what cards everyone has. It's quiet enough that no one else can hear, except for Tango, who at this point is only a few inches off from already sitting on Skizz's lap. 

"You wanna share that with the rest of the class, or...?" Tango tries to tease him but before he even gets any response, Skizz starts cheering. He won the pot, and it was a good one. 

"What was that, Top?" Skizz asks so self assured, pulling Tango's chair just a little bit closer. The soft carpet of the floor muffles the sound and Ren dealing out the next round has everyone's focus drawn away from them so nobody notices. 

Nobody notices either, how Tango tenses up, when Skizz's broad hand suddenly rests on his left thigh. 

For a moment Tango thinks it's just an accidental touch but it lingers. How does Skizz always manage to feel so warm against his skin, he's supposed to be the warm one... 

Tango gives Skizz a glance, still fumbling for anything to say when Skizz leans forward and pushes his own bet towards the middle, playing like nothing is happening, while Tango is slowly suffering. 

But this is fine. Skizz is just being Skizz, trying to distract him, to make him lose focus. 

So Tango tries his best to stay focused on the game, paying attention to the other players and the cards Ren deals and uncovers. 

In any other circumstances Tango prides himself in being good at this, he's good at math, the probabilities behind it all and his own poker face comes from years of practice, no matter what Skizz says. 

But of course Skizz has a way of turning this around for himself. 

It's Tango's turn, he looks at the three cards that are already in the middle, red eyes scanning the bet Joe placed, the cards Wels put in the middle, that Ren just picked up. Another glance at the two cards face down in front of him and Tango only notices it a few moments after Skizz's hand starts moving, but his hand is clearly on his crotch now. 

Very much distracted, unable to even process what his own cards are, Tango quickly says "Check" before the attention lingers on him for too long, not wanting anyone to see the way he flushes. 

Skizz checks too, as if his hand, broad and warm, wasn't just groping Tango under the table, so close to their friends. During a tournament. 

During Beef's turn, Tango looks up at Skizz. "What are you doing?" he whispers, trying to stay quiet, trying to keep his voice even but it wavers. 

Across the table Joe says "Look, they're conspiring" much to the amusement of everyone else. They don't know, do they? 

"It's all good, just giving Tango here some tips since he clearly needs them right now" Skizz laughs it off and now Tango is glaring at him. 

Fine, two can play at this game. 

Tango plants his, notably smaller, hand on Skizz's thigh, and one glance beneath the table shows Tango the difference of the hand that's slowly undoing his fly, as if it were the most normal thing to do right now. 

One sharp inhale, then another, Skizz shouldn't be this good at unbuttoning the pants of his suit while still applying just the right amount of pressure, causing Tango to forget all parts of his plan, till Skizz nudges him with his elbow. "Your turn, Top." 

Already? Tango hasn't even paid attention to the cards in the middle, to who folded and who raised. He'll just check, not having the spare thoughts right now to figure out what his best move would be. "Bold move" comments Skizz, who folds, sliding the cards towards Ren. 

Tango's grip tightens on Skizz, by now only trying to hold on, to steady himself. He doesn't even care that he just lost another round, more diamonds than necessary going to Beef. 

But how is he supposed to focus on that when Skizz fumbles with his shorts, exposing his already painfully hard member. His heart is pounding in his chest, what is Skizz doing? A bit of panic rises up inside him.

This has gone past just a bit, a way for Skizz to distract Tango, something that could be easily brushed off should any of their friends notice. 

And yet, the panic makes Tango twitch as he tries to calm his breathing.

Trying to gain some distance and hopefully some sense alongside it, he tries to angle his legs away from Skizz, but he's sitting too close to actually make much of a difference. 

But the worst part of it all? Right now, Skizz just has his hand resting on the inside of Tango's thigh and it feels like it's burning a handprint into his skin. Why is he playing games and not just touching him?

Tango closes his eyes, just for a moment when he hears Wels beside him clear his throat. "Uhm, I can see Tango's... Cards like this" he admits. 

The table is a bit crowded and of course immediately an accusation of cheating is thrown into the round but with the look Wels gives Tango, it's clear that he's not just talking about the game. 

Skizz's hand finally moves up, brushing over Tango's member for a moment as he takes "Well, just don't look, how about that? Gentlemen's rules, right?" Tango can hear Skizz's grin, doesn't even need to see his handsome face for it. 

"He can just scoot up a bit more," Skizz pulls Tango's chair another bit closer with his free hand, the other wrapping around his hard shaft, "and I, for one can keep my eyes up here"

Everyone reacts with amusement, and Tango chuckles along, the sound airy as he tries to send Wels an apologetic glance, but the blonde isn't looking towards him anymore. 

But Tango doesn't get to think about the consequences of that interaction for long because Skizz's hand starts moving. Slowly, nearly painfully so, but by this point Tango has been craving anything, his tail rising up slightly, involuntarily, in response.

It somehow ends up being Tango's turn again and it this point, Skizz’s hand is wrapped in a loose fist around Tango, pumping up and down, and he can't focus anymore. On the game or on the people around him. He lets a gasp slip and immediately several eyes are on him but it doesn't interrupt whoevers turn it was so he just clears just throat "sorry... The cough" and it's technically not even a lie. 

"You're up" someone - Tango can't pay attention to who - says and Tango hasn't even looked at his cards, he just folds. Next to him, he hears Skizz giggle. 

Of course Tango is still trying to hide what's happening but he's quite sure he's not doing a very good job. He feels himself pant, his breaths heavy, lips slightly parted. In an attempt to shut his mouth, to stop any more needy noises from coming out, he bites down onto his lips with his sharp teeth. 

They might notice but at this point Tango is past caring, his hip bucking up to meet Skizz's movements halfway. 

Unable to even pay a bit of attention, Tango keeps losing round after round after round. Skizz picks up the pace after every loss, occasionally squeezing Tango every few seconds for a whole round.

Tango doesn't even need to look down to know that he's spilling precum over Skizz's hand, over himself and some probably also on the pants of his suit. But those are all problems for later. 

Again it is his turn and Tango notices that he's down to his last few diamonds. He at least has half a mind to check his cards even if it takes him a little bit too long to truly register what it says. Not that it matters if he keeps trying not to tremble, not to buck into the hand wrapped around him. 

Skizz must have realized Tango's situation because the pace of his arm crawls to a halt, just a gentle squeeze that nearly makes Tango cum on the spot. Skizz is encouraging him, encouraging the risk. At this point, Tango might do anything just so he moves his fist again. 

"All in." Tango's trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. This definitely raised some eyebrows but Tango accepted that at this point he's lost. 

But at least Skizz's warm hand rewards him for it. He doesn't even hear what Skizz does next, as he feels his orgasm crash over him. 

It takes all of Tango to not groan or, even worse, whimper, at the table as he feels hot, sticky release dribble all over Skizz's hand and down his shaft. Some definitely also landed on his clothes.

While Tango is still catching his breath he can hear Skizz chuckle beside him, pulling the whole pot close to himself. 

And seemingly just to rub it in, his other hand smears Tango's cum off on his pants. He sends Skizz a glare that doesn't quite carry the bite it's supposed to, but enough to get the message across because he hears Skizz laugh, finally having both hands on the table again. 

Tango uses the rest of that round to catch his breath and to discreetly pack himself up again. Once that's over he gets up with a shake of his head. 

"Well that's me then. Thanks for having me, Doc" he gives a small wave as he picks his suit jacket up, debating putting it on but instead opting to hold it in his hands, right over the spot where Skizz wipes his hand off. He'll need to find a way to get back at Skizz for this. 

As he turns to leave, still winded and just wanting to get out and get some fresh air he calls "Good luck everyone" before promptly taking an unfamiliar turn, clearly not the way he came in from. 

Maybe it's the hormones or his blood still pumping but he can help the too high pitched groan of "Can't find the exit" while letting out a nervous chuckle. 

In an instant, Ren is there, a hand around Tango's shoulder and a smile on his face as he leans down a slight bit while turning Tango towards a different door. "Exit is this way" and there's very clear amusement in his voice. 

Tango only manages to mutter a quiet thanks before he finally stumbles out into the shopping district again.