#yeah you might see a few things as I asked...

[corroded-hellfire]

Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry

Words: 3.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.

“This looks like a nice house,” he says as he pushes the door all the way open. “Might be able to steal something nice.”

A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.

“We’re not thieves!” Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.

“Miaaaaaa!” Eliza’s heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination. 

Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.

“What about me? Am I chop liver?” 

Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncle’s arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.

“Noooo!” Eliza whines, her little legs kicking. 

“Oh, fine,” Steve sighs as he lets her down.

Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.

“Grandpa!”

“There’s my girl!”

Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.

“Where’s Daddy?” Wayne asks.

“Dunno,” Eliza answers with a shrug.

“He’s outside,” Luke says as he strolls into the room.

Nancy can’t help but notice how her youngest’s face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Mia’s adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesn’t notice the hearts in the young redhead’s eyes.

“Should we lock him out?” Steve asks about your husband.

Wayne sighs. “Eh, he’s scrappy, he’ll find a way back in,” he says as he sets Eliza back down. 

The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girl’s sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return. 

“Yeah,” Steve says as he watches the girls. “I think the little munchkin would let him in.” He nods towards Eliza.

“She can’t reach the door,” Danny points out to his dad.

“Eliza finds a way to do anything,” Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience he’s had in that regard.

Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction. 

“Shit!” Your voice echoes out into the living room.

Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.

“Play nice,” she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. “Everything okay in here?”

Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.

“Gave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.”

“I’m sure they will,” Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. “Anything I can do to help?”

Steve’s voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.

“You’re on, Munson!”

Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.

“Keep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?” you ask.

“I’m afraid not.” Nancy winces. It’s an impossible task, you both know that.

As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the room–never one for just walking–with a grin on his face. 

“We’re going to play football!” he announces.

You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.

“Who exactly is ‘we?” you ask.

“Me, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, Daddy…and uh, maybe Natalie.”

The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.

“Your father is going to play football?”

“He’s gonna try,” Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving son’s disbelieving and amused tone. You’re not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.

“Is that what he and Steve were bickering about?” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Mia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.”

“Luke, come on!” Theo calls out.

“My daughter is a little mother hen,” Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously. 

Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of them—all of them except Ryan and Natalie.

“Come on, it will be fun,” Ryan says from the next room just as you’re wondering about him.

The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, “Fine.”

Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.

“I’m impressed,” she says. “No one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.”

“Hormones?” you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.

“Oh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.”

“Oof, I do not miss being a teenager,” you say.

“What, you stopped, like, last year?” 

You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.

“Come on, now let me help you,” she chides.

“Fine,” you relent. “Want to chop those carrots?”

“No problem.”

Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but they’re not quite as heavy as Eliza’s usually are, so you’re not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.

“Auntieeee?” she asks you as she comes to a stop.

“Miaaaaaa?”

“Eliza is hungry,” she tells you. “Can I get her a snack?”

“Sure thing, cutie.” You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. “Just make sure she doesn’t eat too many, okay?”

“Okay!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.

Just as you’re about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.

“Well, hello there,” you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. “You wanna join Eliza and Mia?” When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.

The moment your arms are free, you’re being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her mother’s arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t believe how big she is!” you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months. 

Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since she’s still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.

“Eliza?” you call. “Do you want to come say hi?”

It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio that’s in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Max—who is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.

“Hi, Eliza!” When your daughter doesn’t answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. “Remember me? Uncle Dustin?”

She just keeps staring.

Lucas laughs at the little girl’s nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. “Mwah!” he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.

Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.

“Hey! I’m the cool uncle!” he protests. And it’s true; if the other kids were in the house right now, they’d all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.

“Guess not anymore,” Lucas says with a shrug.

“It’s gotta be because I live further away,” Dustin argues. “She sees me less.”

“Sure,” Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.

Max rolls her eyes at the two men’s bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husband’s arms and turns to face Dustin’s wife.

“These stilly boys,” Max says to Eliza. “Say hi to your Aunt Anne?”

Your daughter gives a small wave, but it’s clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.

“Where’s Ed?” Dustin asks.

“In the backyard,” you say. “Playing football.”

“Football?” Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.

“I know,” you say.

“I have to see this,” Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, it’s not the same as having other ladies around.

Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Mia’s idea, no doubt.

There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.

“What did you do, little girl?” you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.

Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.

“Molly hungry!” she tells you.

“Oh, okay,” you say with a nod. “So, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?”

“Mhmm!” She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.

“What’re you troublemakers doing?” she asks as she comes up beside you. 

A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.

“Go ahead, take care of that. I’ll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.”

“Thank you.” You give Max’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.

Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven. 

Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.

“I think I’m going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,” she says.

“Nurse is never off duty, huh?” Nancy asks with a smile.

When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow. 

“She wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?” you ask. “She clearly doesn’t know that is most of what our husbands do.”

Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.

“We should keep her here as an on-call nurse.”

“She’d be busier here than in the ER,” you joke. 

You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.

“Is something burning?” she asks.

“What?”

You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove. 

“Smell it?” she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.

You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.

“No,” you admit.

“That’s because there’s nothing burning,” Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. “But it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?”

Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.

“You’re sneaky,” you tell her.

“I have to be with four kids,” she replies. 

It’s not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. It’s only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.

“Everything smells good,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Did you win?” you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.

His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles.

Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his father’s, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.

“Can I help?” Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. “Do you want to get started on the stuffing?”

“Sure.”

Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.

“Cooking is for girls,” the eight-year-old declares.

“Danny!” Nancy immediately snaps. 

“Hey,” Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. “I was a cook in the army. That don’t sound girly, does it?”

Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.

“No,” he says softly.

“What do you say?” Nancy asks.

“I’m sorry.”

Ryan ruffles the boy’s hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs he’s carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.

“Hey, all available squirts!” Eddie calls from the next room.

“I’m not available,” Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.

Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasn’t lived there for years.

“Uh, I’m supposed to set the table. Where’s the stuffs?” he asks.

“By yourself?” you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.

“Nope.” 

Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask what’s so funny, Mia follows in behind him. It’s clear she volunteered to be your son’s assistant.

“I’m here to help!” she announces. 

Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think they’re able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.

“Quite the operation you’ve got going here,” you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. “Putting the kids to work.”

“They’re my elves,” he says with a shrug. 

You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.

Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesn’t ask why; he knows they’ll tell him.

“I don’t want to sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.

Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kids’ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and she’s clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.

“Me neither,” she says while mentally calculating. 

Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity. 

“Okay, you guys can sit with us,” he tells them. “As long as you contribute to the conversation.”

“Really?” Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. “By the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?”

Lucas doesn’t miss a beat.

“Huh,” he muses. “You know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.”

“Ugh fine, we’ll sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan groans.

The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.

“Don’t even know if I got all the terms right,” Lucas admits.

Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the table—well, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kids’ table. She’s practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesn’t take her attention from her dinner. 

Annie settles Molly into her own highchair—Eliza’s old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.

The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddie’s seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kids’ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Eliza’s plate and playfully tug on one of Luke’s curls.

Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them. 

“You’re gonna lose a finger, boy,” Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife. 

Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesn’t set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isn’t sure there’s enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone “should be” and shrug, telling them they’re out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed. 

You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldn’t hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasn’t quelled the yearning. 

Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.

[strnilolover]

NNN - chris sturniolo - pregnant

You let out a long, exhausted sigh as you settled into the couch, one hand cradling your round belly and the other rubbing the small of your aching back. The baby had been sitting low all day, and no amount of shifting, pillows, or stretches seemed to help.

Chris, who had been scrolling through his phone on the opposite end of the couch, glanced over at you. He frowned, setting his phone down as he noticed you wince while trying to find a more comfortable position.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his tone laced with concern.

“Yeah,” you said, though your voice betrayed you. “My back’s just killing me. I’ll be fine.” you muttered, trying to brush it off as no big deal like you normally did.

Chris didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his eyes on you as you tried — unsuccessfully — to adjust again. Finally, he stood up.

“Alright, I want to try something,” he said, moving toward you with a determined look. You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘try something’? Chris, what are you—”

“Just trust me,” he interrupted gently, holding out his hands to help you up. “It’s nothing crazy, I promise.” With a curious look, you took his hands, letting him pull you to your feet. You groaned as the weight of your belly immediately pulled on your back again.

“Turn around,” he said softly, positioning himself behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, still confused but willing to go along with whatever he had planned. “Chris, if this is some kind of weird massage thing—”

“It’s not,” he cut in, his hands carefully sliding around your belly. “Just hold still for a second.” You tensed slightly as his hands cupped the underside of your belly, but then he gently lifted, taking the full weight off your back. The relief was so immediate and overwhelming that you gasped.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, your head tilting back slightly to rest against his shoulder as the tension in your back melted away. “Chris… what are you doing?” you mumbled.

“Helping,” he said simply, holding your belly steady as he peeked over your shoulder. “I saw this thing earlier, and I thought it might work. Does it?” he asked.

“Does it?!” you exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Chris, this feels amazing. How did you even think of this?” you retorted.

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I just hate seeing you in pain. If I can take some of the weight off for a bit, I’ll do it.” he stated — and it was true. He was the one who did this to you in the first place.

Your chest tightened at his words, warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned back against him even more. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” you say softly.

“Not possible,” he teased, swaying slightly as he kept holding your belly. “You carry this around all day, every day. This is the least I can do.” You sighed contentedly, letting yourself relax into him. “I wish you could do this forever. I feel like I’m floating.” say say, the relief laced into your voice.

He chuckled softly, his hands steady under your belly. “Yeah, well, I don’t know about forever. My arms are starting to feel it already.” he teased lightly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t you dare let go,” you warned, half-joking but entirely serious. Chris laughed again, a low, warm sound in your ear. “I’ll give you a little longer, but you’re gonna have to figure out another way to bribe me if you want more time.”

For a few minutes, the two of you stood like that, swaying slightly as he held your belly. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, and the pain that had been nagging at you all day was nothing more than a distant memory.

But then, slowly, Chris eased his grip, lowering your belly back to where it naturally rested. The relief vanished almost instantly, and the familiar ache shot through your back like a rubber band snapping.

“Chris!” you whined, leaning forward slightly as you tried to ease the discomfort on your own. “Why’d you stop? That was perfect!” He smirked, coming around to face you. “Because my arms aren’t built for holding that forever. Besides, you’re the one with super strength, carrying this around all day.”

“I don’t want super strength,” you pouted, shifting your weight and rubbing your back. “I want you to hold it again.” Chris leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You’re so cute when you’re dramatic,” he teased.

You swatted at his chest half-heartedly, glaring at him. “Chris, I’m serious! That was the only time I haven’t felt like I’m being crushed under a boulder all day.” you say, your pout deepening.

“Alright, alright,” he said, his grin softening. “I’ll hold it again later, I promise. But right now, I’m getting you some water and a heating pad.”

You grumbled under your breath but allowed him to guide you back to the couch. As you lowered yourself carefully, you muttered, “Next time, you’re holding it for an hour.”

Chris laughed, tucking a blanket around you. “Next time, I’m hiring someone to do it for me.” he teased — though he wasn’t serious about that. He would hold your stomach again over and over again for you until you were satisfied.

Despite your complaints, you couldn’t help but smile at him. He always had a way of making you feel loved — even if he was a tease about it.

© strnilolover

[judysxnd]

If you're taking requests for Lando, and are comfortable writing angst. I'm in one of those moods where I need gut-wrenching neglected girlfriend being called clingy and then him grovelling for forgiveness. You don't have to write it, I just really have been in an angsty mood.

Sparkle anon

As usual I don't like what I did, but I have been starting this like a thousand times and never finished it and this time I did. So I'll go with the flow. I hope you'll like it !

I took so much time to write this that your mood probably changed like a thousand times 😭 I'm sorry 😔

———————————————————————

These past few days have been hard for you. Lando has been away for the past three weeks because it was a triple header and you couldn't come with him because of work. You always thought that being famous too would help you have clear weekends to come to the races, but apparently not. You had ads to film, shoots for magazines to do, interviews to prepare and do too, and it was getting overwhelming.

And Lando being in a different time zone definitely didn't help. You barely could texts, or one would respond hours later, the phone calls only last a few minutes (when you can actually call each other) and it wasn't enough for you these days. Your anxiety was getting the best of you, resulting in a few panic attacks daily.

Usually Lando helps a lot, but he had enough stuff on his plate too. He was in a tough battle with Max for the championship, and from what you've seen and what he had told you a bit, he was struggling with the car this week-end. You tried to make it work as much as you could. But you just couldn't do it anymore. You were back at Monaco after working hard until Saturday afternoon, actually coming home at Lando's place around 9pm, crying yourself to sleep, not even eating.

You knew Lando would be back for a few days from Vegas for a couple of days before flying to Qatar. But you definitely didn't expect to wake up at almost 5pm the next day by noises in the kitchen. First of all, how did you sleep that much? You were tired but damn, that's like 18hours of sleep ! And second of all, who was in the kitchen?

You slowly walked, carefully listening to the noises. After leaning a bit, you saw Lando searching the fridge for something to eat.

"Oh my god" you said relieved it was him. "you scared me so much!" you said walking to him, hugging him from behind.

"I scared you- in my own place?"

"yeah as you were in a different country" you leaned onto the counter next to him. "how did it go?" you asked about the race. Yes you didn't watch it as you slept half a day. You were going to watch it as you woke up, before Lando gets back, but well, you definitely didn't have time for that apparently.

"not good" Lando said barely looking at you

"oh" he walked out of the kitchen "but where did you finish?"

"You didn't watch the race?" he asked, going to the living room to eat at the table

"Well, I wanted to, but as you can see I.. overslept" he stared at you, as he was judging you "and you came back before I could watch it, so might as well tell me directly" you sat in front of him

"Well I lost the championship and finished P6, behind Max at the race. Happy?"

"Why are you so mad at me? It's not my fault, I'm just trying to know what happened to support you"

"support me? You weren't even there for that"

"ugh, excuse me? Sorry for having a career of my own, which I might give up with everything happening at the same time"

"like you can't take at least one day to come watch the race"

"that's the only thing you got from what I just said?" you stood up "what the hell Lando? What happened for you to treat me like that? I've been working my ass off, trying to contain my panic attacks all alone because you also have a career and can't be by my side 24/7, you barely even answer my text, you don't call me, you don't even ask me how I am doing!" He just stared at you, not saying anything. "you know what? I think I was better alone" you said, leaving the room, heading to his bedroom to gather your stuff.

"Wait- where are you going?" he said following you, like he suddenly cared.

"I'm going to my parents for a while. I haven't seen them in 2 months between my work and the races. And you're leaving like in two days anyway so, might as well try to have a good time with people that actually care about me" And before he could say anything, you were out of his sight, driving to the nearest airport to fly to your parents (trying to avoid to cry and have many panic attacks on your way).

You knew Lando wouldn't fly to you for the next two weeks with the races getting all of his time. But he did harass you with texts, tried to call you, which you ignored. He also sent you flowers, many flowers, gifts with little cards, apologising and asking for you to answer his texts and calls. You did feel guilty, even if you made it clear that he neglected you, you felt bad for keeping it to yourself that long and just lashing onto him like that.

You watched the last two races of the year, a knot in your stomach. You felt like you made it worse by acting like that and ignoring him. Hell he could have an accident and not make it back and that would be the last thing you said to him? That is a very bad scenario but still. And at the same time, your pride was telling you to keep ignoring him, that you were right and that he was the one to come back to you (which he was actually trying to do).

Until the next Monday after the last race, when you heard a knock to your bedroom. Innocently thinking it was your mom, you told "her" to come in, only to be faced by Lando holding flowers in his hand. You were laying in bed, in your pyjamas at 3pm, scrolling on your phone.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" You said, sitting up.

"You didn't give me other choices" you nodded, admitting that it was true. "I'm sorry for being a bad boyfriend" he said, taking a step closer to you

"keep going" you said, crossing your arms

"I shouldn't have neglected you like that even if I get too busy at work. I know you always take time for me even though you're working too and I should do the same thing" he sat down at the edge of your bed

"hm hm" you nodded

"I know you didn't read my texts nor listened to my voice messages or voicemails, but I've been apologising for a thousand times and, I've been begging you not to breakup with me" you couldn't help but laugh

"I've listened to them" you admitted

"w-were they good?" you tilted your head "you know I'm not good for that type of stuff"

"You're getting there"

"So what are you saying? Are we good?" you leaned a bit closer to him

"No we're not good Lando. It's not a bunch of texts, calls and gifts that are going to make me forget what happened. Hell I told you I wanted to abandon my entire career and you didn't even react" he was about to say something but you cut him off "and I know it's been very tough for you too for the races, that's why I gave you the benefit of doubt when you were away, but- you were sitting in front of me Lando-"

"I know, I know" he sat right in front of you, holding your hands "we've been dating for a year and- honestly I don't know what happened. When I came back from São Paulo you were there for me, and thank god you were, but I think it's just, it went to my head and I was under so much pressure" you wanted to cut him off but he didn't let you "and I'm not making up excuses for what I did. I just don't want to lose you. I'm so sorry, I'll do anything for you not to leave me, just please, don't go. It won't happen again, I promise" you sighed

"I wasn't going to leave you Lando" you had a little smile. You could see it in his eyes. He was scared he really messed up to the point you were actually going to leave him for good. Maybe stepping away for a few weeks made him think, like for you.

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised

"Yes, but I needed some time, like you did too"

"yes. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I won't do it again"

"You better not" you both laughed a little. "I love you too"

"Not as much as I do" and he immediately leaned in to kiss you. "Now I need to give those flowers to your mother because she helped me to get to talk to you" you gasped as he stood up

"of course she did" you laughed "and to think those flowers were for me? I'm offended" you joked

"Didn't you get enough with everything I sent you?" you tilted your head "too soon?" you both laughed

"yeah, too soon" he left the room. You got up and followed him down the stairs.

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 5

pairing: you x drew starkey

The photos were everywhere.

Drew stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as he scrolled through the dozens of articles plastered with pictures of Y/N, her face streaked with tears, walking alone under the dim glow of the streetlights. The headlines weren’t just cruel – they were brutal: “Heartbreak in Hollywood: Drew Starkey’s Ex Caught in Emotional Turmoil.”

He clenched his jaw, tossing the phone onto the couch. The guilt twisted like a vice in his chest. He couldn’t stop seeing her face in those photos, couldn’t stop hearing the pain in her voice during their last fight.

The late-night outings, the photos ops with Odessa – it all felt so hollow now. Odessa wasn’t to blame: she was a good person stuck in the same web of expectations he had willingly stepped into. But as the PR machine churned on, Drew began to feel like a puppet in his own life, with every decision dictated by what would look good in a headline or keep his career safe. And the worst part? He had let it cost him the one person who had ever made him feel truly grounded.

That night, Drew couldn’t sleep. His mind raced with memories of Y/N – the way she laughed, the way she always knew when he needed to be pulled out of his own head, the way she had looked at him like he was her whole world.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through their old text messages. Her words stared back at him, filled with love and trust, and he felt the weight of his mistakes even more. How had he let this happen? How had he let her slip through his fingers?

The PR relationship with Odessa had started as a way to deflect attention from his personal life. At first, it seemed harmless – a mutually beneficial arrangement to keep the press off their back. But somewhere along the way, it had spiraled out of control. Every staged photo, every “leak” had chipped away at his relationship with Y/N, and now it was just gone.

He hated himself for it.

Over the next few day, Drew had tried to reach out to her.

He sent texts:

“I need to talk to you. Please.”

“I’m sorry for everything. I miss you.”

“Can I see you? Just once.”

He left voicemails, his voice thick with emotion: “Y/N, I know I don’t deserve it, but I need you to hear me out. I messed up, and I don’t even know how to fix this. But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. Please, just… call me back.”

When none of that worked, he sent flowers – a smile bouquet of her favorite lilies with a note that read: “I’m sorry. I’ll never stop being sorry. – Drew”

But there was no response. Not a single word.

Drew had found himself in Odessa’s trailer on set one afternoon, feeling the weight of his choices more than ever. She was scrolling through her phone when he walked in, and the look on her face told him everything.

“You’ve seen the pictures, haven’t you?” she asked, putting her phone down.

“Yeah,” he admitted, slumping into the chair across from her.

“They’re bad, Drew. Like…. Really bad. I feel awful for her.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “The whole thing.. it’s gone too far. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you either.”

Odessa tilted her head, studying him. “You care about her a lot, don’t you?”

“She’s… she’s everything,” Drew said quietly, his voice cracking. “And I screwed it up.”

Odessa leaned back, crossing her arms. “Then why are we still doing this? If you’re so miserable, end it. Or at least talk to her before it’s too late.”

Drew sighed. “It might already be too late.”

Drew decided he had to do something, even if it was small.

That evening, he showed up at Y/N’s door. His heart pounded as he stood there, holding a carefully assembled basket in his hands.

Inside, he had included everything he knew she loved: her favorite chocolate, a small bouquet of her favorite flowers, a DVD of a movie she’d always turn to on bad days, a scented candle she once said reminded her of her childhood and a handwritten letter.

When the door opened, she stood there, her expression unreadable.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” he began, his voice shaky, “but I needed to come. I needed you to know that I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t have excuses. I just.. I hate what I’ve done to us.”

He held the basket out to her. “I remembered all the things you love, and I know it’s not enough to make up for what I did. But I wanted to remind you that I see you, and I care. I care so much, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered down to the basket, taking in every item before looking back up at him.

“I don’t know if this changes anything, Drew,” she said quietly, her fingers gripping the edge of the basket.

“I know,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not giving up on us.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing in the doorway, holding the basket and wondering if her heart could bear to trust him again.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291 @rafegf-real @matthewswifeyy @fangirl-magic @snowtargaryen @slut-era @leather-n-velvet

[ohithankyou]

decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.

note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations

buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:

[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]

abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”

buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”

abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”

[when buck is dropping her to the airport]

abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"

buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."

abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."

buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"

abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"

buck: "you, too, abby."

buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:

[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]

abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”

buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”

abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”

buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”

abby: “yeah.”

buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”

—

buck and ali, 2x18:

[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]

ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”

buck: “exactly.”

ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”

buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”

ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”

buck: “…who you are.”

ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”

—

buck and taylor, 5x18:

[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]

taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”

buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”

taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”

buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”

taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”

buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”

taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”

buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”

taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”

buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”

taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”

buck: “yeah. just not together.”

—

buck and tommy, 8x06:

[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]

buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."

tommy: "i wasn't always that way."

buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."

buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"

tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."

buck: "and why not?"

tommy: "because, i know how this ends."

buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."

buck: "what are you saying?"

tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."

buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."

tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."

tommy: "i should go."

buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"

tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."

[crowhyun]

gym rat taehyun who you end us seeing frequently at the gym whenever you’re around too and he starts helping you out on some of the stuff and sexual tension and then BAM, sex

a/n: I haven't written smut in so long so please bare with me 😭 I'm trying to get back into the groove of it but I've kinda lost confidence though I hope that doesn't show in my works lol. I hope you enjoy this, anon, and thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: smut, pnv, exhibitionism, unprotected sex but hyun's pull out game is top tier, I would know

WC: 1.8k

The gym a few blocks away from your apartment was always too crowded for your taste. Midday was the worst, with every piece of equipment occupied, and the ones that weren't were a sweaty mess due to peoples' lack of politeness.

Though, around 10PM was always the best time to go. It was much less crowded, and it was almost calming, in a way.

You, along with a few other late night gym rats, took this time to your advantage. The gym was nearly empty, and hip-hop music played quietly from the speakers. The sound of equipment moving and barbells clanking was miniscule compared to how it usually was.

Though, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that that was the only reason you came to the gym at that time.

Your other reason - your main reason - was currently at the pull-up bar, biceps bulging and sweat dripping down his clear skin as he effortlessly hoisted himself up on the bar. You were quite familiar with this man, or at least as familiar as you could get from afar. Without fail, he'd always be at the gym at this time, always alone, and ever so efficient in his workouts.

You tried not to stare as you leisurely stretched. You weren't in the mood for heavy lifting or cardio, yet you were fully intent on boy watching.

After what seemed like over a dozen pull-ups, the man hopped down from the bar, turning around with a hand on his hip to grab his towel, and you quickly looked away to not get caught ogling. To look busy, you continued with your stretching, doing basic stretches to pass the time. You were so distracted trying to look busy that you hadn't even noticed a certain someone approaching until you heard his voice.

"Your form isn't good." He said, causing you to flinch and sir upright, staring right at the man who was sipping from his water bottle.

Is he talking to me?, you thought. Though, he was obvious who he was talking to, due to his large brown eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. "...huh?" Was all that you could muster out.

"Sorry." He apologized, screwing his water bottle shut. "I don't mean to bother you, but I just thought that I should tell you that your form isn't very good. You might hurt yourself."

Your lips went into an O-shape as you realized what he was saying, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You fully expected him to just walk away after that, but he spoke once more.

"I can help with some stretches if you'd like." He said. "I'm no personal trainer, but I know a thing or two."

"Oh...you'd do that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inwardly fangirled, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the man you've been crushing on.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, placing his water bottle down and coming closer, your heart beating a mile a minute. He gave you a sweet smile before he bent down to your level, and you got a close up look at his sweaty skin and well built arms, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"See, when you're doing lunge stretches, you have to make sure your back is flat and your core is engaged so that you can keep your balance." He said, his voice soft, though the near emptiness of the gym made it seem as if he were loud and clear. He got into position beside you, showing off the proper way to stretch, and you followed suit.

Throught the stretches, you had learned that his name was Taehyun, and he was pretty flexible himself. You may have even purposefully made yourself seem incompetent in your stretches so that he wouldn't leave anytime soon. It was getting later and later, but you didn't want to go home - not yet.

"Hamstring stretches are a bit harder, as most people don't stretch for long enough." He informed you, gently pushing you onto your back. "How flexible are you?" He asked, helping you to hike your leg up. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his strong hands on you, and the change of position nearly made you dizzy.

"Uh, maybe moderately?" You spoke, clearing your throat in an effort to sound like your panties weren't starting to get damp.

"Moderately?" He chuckled with a slight tilt to his head. "We'll see about that then, yeah? Just tell me when it's too much." He said, his hand circling around your calf as he started to slowly push your leg up...up...and up.

You winced a bit, the stretch starting to get painful, but you were too distracted by how he placed his other hand right on your thigh.

"There you go." He encouraged, your leg straight up and pushed against his shoulder as he kneeled down in front of you. "How're you feeling? Think you can go a bit more?"

"I can definitely feel the stretch." You chuckled, your heartrate beating a mile a minute. "I think I can go further, though."

With that, he started to slowly push your leg up once more, your thigh almost touching your chest. "Hmm, you're pretty flexible, aren't you?" He spoke, and you don't know if it's the rising desire within you or not, but his voice was starting to sound more...intimate.

"I didn't...I didn't realize before now." You said, finding it hard to breathe.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?" He smirked, the sight making your walls clench around nothing. He then started to slowly lower your leg before doing the same to the other one. Your breath hitched at the stretch, and you winced.

"Fuck..." You whispered, unable to keep it in.

"Just a bit more, you got it." He said, his whisper matching yours as he stretched you further. His torso pressed against your leg, and you couldn't help yourself from taking a peek down between your legs. Truthfully, you just wanted to make sure you didn't completely soak through your leggings, but instead, you got a glimpse of what Taehyun was packing. The dim light of the gym reflected on the bulge in his gym shorts, and you literally felt your heart beat in your clit.

You quickly looked back up, eyes slightly widening, just to see that he was making eye contact with you. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you that he knew exactly what you were looking at.

If that didn't tell you enough, then his next actions did.

Stretching your leg so that your thigh met your chest, he positioned himself so that he was pressing up against you, and your breath hitched once you felt his bulge directly press against your clothed heat.

Shit...he's so close.

"There you go..." He said, his voice dangerously lustful. "Now you're all stretched out for me."

You weren't exactly sure when the switch flipped, and at this point, you didn't care if you were soaking through your leggings or not. You weren't crazy, his voice definitely held some underlying tension there, and neither of you could hide from it.

"Now that you're all stretched out, you can work out safely, no matter how hard."

Next thing you know, your leggings were hanging off of one leg, and your panties were pushed to the side to accommodate for how Taehyun's girth was stretching you out in a completely different way.

Sweat dripped down the strands of his wet hair, and your leg was hiked up on his shoulder, ensuring that you had no way to hide from just how deliciously he was rocking his hips into yours.

It was a caconaphy of hushed moans, grunts and whimpers, the sounds of your bodies colliding. You but your lip harshly to try and silence yourself even though you were pretty sure the gym was empty at this time. Taehyun's cock ruthlessly massaged your g-spot with each thrust, and he groaned in ecstacy as your nails dug into his arms in order to brace yourself.

"Ah- ah- ah-" Staccato moans left your lips as your body jerked each time his tip slammed against that spot within you, his pelvis hitting your clit over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, his brows furrowed in concentration, solely focused on fucking you dumb on his cock.

A loud keen ripped from your throat as he slightly adjusted his positioning, his cock hitting so deep inside your fluttering walls. Your hips bucked up and your other leg lifted, the urge to close your legs and run away from the numbing pleasure growing greater.

"Nuh-uh." Taehyun tsked, shaking his head as he roughly spread your legs, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. "C'mon, you can take it. Take this cock." He grunted, gifting you with a particularly harsh thrust that had you reeling.

Your head fell back on the mat underneath you and your thighs shook. You could feel his cock throb inside of you, his low grunts only driving you closer to the edge. You then gasped loudly, your jaw dropping and your body tensing.

"C-cumming, I'm cum-" You stammered out, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched moan that would've been impossible for you to keep in. Your pussy walls clamped around Taehyun's thick shaft like a vice, and he felt like he was seconds away from absolutely losing it at the way your fucked out face contorted into barely concealed pleasure as you creamed all around his cock.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you down as he pumped faster, his balls tightening as he saw completion on the horizon. "Mmmh, that's it...cum on my cock just like- hah- that." He groaned, his jaw clenching as his blunt nails dug into your wrists, and before he knew it, he couldn't take anymore.

He was quick to pull out of your tight heat, which was almost painful, but that no longer mattered to him, because his hot, thick cum was spurting out of his glistening cock and onto your stomach. The hottest whine left his throat as he came down from his high, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes darting down to your fucked out form.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the only sound being the low volume of the music playing through the gym speakers and the sound of the both of you catching your breaths.

"Well, uhm..." He suddenly spoke, clearing his throat. You noticed that he was avoiding eye contact, and the tips of his ears were tinted red.

Was he...embarrassed?

You fought the urge to laugh as he continued.

"If you just, uh...do those stretches before every workout, you should be good to go." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks..." You spoke, your voice a bit hoarse. "For helping me stretch...and for the little present you gave me." You said, referring to his seed that was splattered across your stomach, seeping down to your belly button.

His eyes widened and he choked, almost as if he forgot that he had came on you.

"I'll...deal with that."

[lovebittenbyevans]

Behind The Curtain | Part 1

Summary: When you and Toji thought you both finally went your separated ways but it turns out not everything is all that it seems to be when you both can’t escape the one thing you wanted for so long – Divorce. As Toji tries to get back into the spotlight you both began to wonder if this was ever real between you two or fake

Pairing: Actor/Ex-Husband! Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Warnings: cursed words

Author note: This will be a short series.

Part 1

Seeing him again you did not know what to think of it. You forgot how fast a year can go by quickly but you would always remember how he looked. You picture him in your head so many times but eventually you know this isn’t what it used to be.

You clear your throat as you pull out the chair to sit across from him. “Toji.” It was eight o’clock at night and you were in the mood for something warm to drink.

Toji takes a sip of his coffee and leans forward in his chair a bit. “Thank you for meeting me, babygirl.” You notice he had on a hat that says ‘better yourself’ while wearing trimmed black sunglasses along with a white shirt and blue denim jeans.

“Toji, cut to the chase.” You tell him seriously. You don’t have time to hear his fake sobbing stories this time and excuse.

He trailed off. “Always straight to the fucking point, huh?” He reached inside his red jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Remember how we finally got divorced from each other and my lawyer helped us out?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Yeah, why? Your lawyer finally admitted she is a scammer and a piece of shit.”

“Well…” Toji exhaled loudly as he unfolded the paper and slid it towards you. “Apparently we are still married to each other.”

You took the paper and looked at it for a moment. “What?” You carefully read what was written on the paper.

11/4/23 –Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are still happily married

Your eyes slowly looked at him. “What the fuck!?” You scoff, shaking your head.

He lowered his hat down as his eyes were on you. “I know, look, I feel the same way you do.”

“You better get a fucking good lawyer this time and fixed this!” You raised your voice a little.

He leans back against his seat. “I know but we have another problem.” You didn’t want to hear those few words at all.

Before you open your mouth to talk, your phone vibrates against your jeans pocket. “That's definitely important.” He said.

You take your phone inside your green jeans pocket and check to see what showed up on your screen.

Actor! Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are happily married a year ago

Your eyes widened immediately when you saw the headlines. You seriously wanted to vomit and crawl into a hole.

Fuck!

“How? W–What?” You were speechless and shocked at the same time.

Toji took one last sip of his drink and said. “It was too late before I could call my publicist to ask them to get rid of the story.”

Your mind had too many thoughts right now. That bastard lawyer for not filing the papers correctly. You wanted to scream loudly but you already knew it was not going to make your problem go away.

“Too late?” You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” A part of you didn’t believe him one bit.

He took off his black shade sunglasses and pushed his chair back. “Look, I know you don’t believe anything I tell you anymore but I’m telling you the truth.”

You scoffed. “How long do we have to wait this time to finally go our separate ways.”

“Um, well…” He rubs his chin while looking at you. “She thinks this might help my image. I have trouble staying out of scandals.”

You shot him a look. “Excuse me? Are you–Sharon is a fucking joke.” You got up from your chair and pushed it underneath the table. “That’s not my problem, you can’t control yourself T.”

You were ready to walk out the door when he grabs your wrist, forcing you to look at him. “Wait, how long are you going to be in London for?”

You glanced at his hand on your wrist before looking at him. “My flight leaves today like I told you over the phone.”

Toji took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Stay.” His piercing dark blue eyes were fixated on you.

You let out a chuckle and pulled away from him. “Goodbye T.” You walked out of the coffee shop, struggling to keep a straight face.

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 11. roomie (half-written)

a/n: and random idol landed on yujin (idk much ab her but hopefully enough for this to be accurate... hopefully)

the sound of the door creaking open pulled you from basically every thought racing in your head. you turn to see a girl stepping in, with a bag slung over her shoulder and a drink in hand. she freezes mid-step as she catches you in her eye, blinking in surprise.

"oh!" she says softly, though her voice carries a slight edge of surprise. "i didn't think you'd make it today."

"yeah, um, surprise?" you offer a shy smile, stepping aside from where you had been standing by your side of the room (the side with literally nothing present). "i just got here yesterday... stayed at a, um, friends place before arriving. you must be my roommate?"

"looks like it," she says, recovering quickly. she walks over and plops down on the edge of her bed. "i'm yujin, ahn yujin."

you look down at her extended hand before reaching over to shake it. her smile was genuine, and it eased you a bit.

"nice to meet you, i'm l/n y/n."

she tilts her head slightly, eyes scanning you a bit before she mutters, "this feels kinda real now."

you laugh softly, nodding as you sit on the edge of your bed. "yeah, it's kind of surreal for me."

there was a moment of quiet as yujin began sipping on her drink, and you began to unpack the bag beside you a bit. the silence wasn't that uncomfortable, you've been through worse, but it hung in the air like a question waiting to be asked.

"so," yujin starts after a beat, glancing over as you take out a pair of slippers. "are you nervous?"

"oh for sure," you admit with a slight chuckle. "you?"

"same." she says, laughing lightly. "but i'm kind of excited too. it's a very weird mix."

you nod, sensing the tension in the room dying down. "where are you from?" you ask.

"daejeon," she answers, "kinda far... so it's a bit different. i've never been so far away from home, but i got a nice scholarship here."

"that's funny, it's the same for me." you explain, "i'm actually from new york city, so this is really... different. i've been a couple times but... living here now? and university? it's kind of insane to me still. i got a full ride, couldn't turn it down, especially at a place like yonsei."

her eyes widen a bit, genuine curiosity sparking in them. "new york? wow. that must be amazing..."

"it has its moments," you respond with a shrug. "it's loud, crowded, and overwhelming sometimes. seoul seems a bit more peaceful, at least where i've been to in the past and yesterday."

yujin laughs at that, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "i guess every place has its ups and downs."

"i guess so."

the initial awkwardness completely melted away as you both talked about your hometowns, your expectations for college, and little things like favorite foods and your love for music. yujin had an easygoing way of speaking, and you could tell she was the playful type as she reminded you of some of your own friends. she was always attentive even when you weren't completely facing her as you unpacked, smiling at you in a way that made you feel like you'd known her a little longer than just a few minutes.

"i feel better now," yujin admits at one point, looking up from where she was folding her own set of clothes. "meeting you, i mean. i was worried i would get some super serious roommate, or someone really hard to get along with -- really just someone pretentious."

""well... am i any of that?"

"oh, far from that. trust me."

you snicker, "i'm glad. but i might be like that if you touch my snacks..."

"what? i would never. well... i do love snacks, so it depends." she gasps in a sort of mock offense, making you giggle.

"right... we'll have to see." you tease. "i think we're off to a good start for now. if you take my snacks, i might have to take yours back though..."

masterlist ; previous — next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @ryujinshotsexywife @sonotcopingatall @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| The Pantyeater Proxy ||

Frank castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, Max!

💜 Reblogs and comments mean the world, thank you for reading! 💜

"What you got Max, buddy? What is that?"

By the time Frank wrestles the thing from his slobbering jaws, it's too late.

"Aw shit." He's holding up the black shreds that once were one of your favourite sets of lingerie.

"Goddamn it. You tryin' to get us thrown out?"

Max grumbles, looking up guiltily from his place the floor.

"Ain't no use sayin' sorry now, think we gotta go shoppin' boy."

He only had a few hours until you came back from work. Frank manages to decipher the brand from the small and partly-chewed label, maybe he can pick up a like-for-like replacement and you'll be none the wiser. More importantly, him and Max will avoid being in your bad books.

Frank is, admittedly, a little out of his element. You usually bought this kinda thing yourself, and Christ knows where you'd originally gotten it from. Things had started out okay, he'd gone to the nearest shop on Google, one with really good reviews, but now he was standing amongst mannequins and reams of hanging silk and lace bras, panties, teddies, slips, and anything else he could've imagined, completely lost. He couldn't even see the brand of the thing Max ate.

"Can I help, sir?"

Frank turns around to see a young woman about half his size, her face bearing what he recognises as a well used sympathetic expression for use on lost boyfriends and husbands.

He clears his throat. "Uh, yes ma'am. Any chance you carry this brand?"

She examines the torn label and then slowly starts to shake her head. "I'm sorry sir, we don't. I think it's actually discontinued. Were you looking for something specific?"

"Shit- excuse me ma'am, sorry, it's just my dog he uh... took a liking to my lady's things and made em into a chew toy. Kinda lookin' for a replacement or me and the dog might be sharing a kennel."

"Ah, yes." She smiles politely. "Could you give me an idea of what they were like and I could maybe find something similar?"

Frank scratches at the shorter hairs at the back of his head. "Uhh..."

She examines the frayed edge on the label. "Well we can start with black, right? Sooo lace, satin, silk, a combination? Wired or unwired bra? Full coverage, push-up, plunge, balconette, or maybe something a little more revealing? And how about the panty; brief, short, Brazilian, bikini, thong... crotchless? Do you know what styles she might like?"

Frank's head spins. "Shit, all I know is that she looked killer in them. You think you could gimme a quick crash course in all this, I can try tell you what she likes, definitely what she don't like- maybe find somethin' that won't get me my head ripped off?"

The shop assistant laughs. "Of course."

Frank returns to the apartment feeling more than a little apprehensive. He puts the fancy bag on the middle of the bed with a stern instruction for Max to leave well alone.

By the time you arrive home, he's almost forgotten about the incident, having been distracted with a phonecall from David asking if you guys were free for dinner this Saturday.

"-alright, yeah yeah 'course I'll bring some wine you dope. See ya then." He hangs up as he's walking over to give you a kiss.

"Hey sweetie, how was work?"

"Urgh, just the usual. Who was that?"

"Liebermann asking us to dinner tomorrow. Said yeah, we ain't got nothing else on right?" He helps you with your coat and you kick off your shoes and dump your bag on the couch.

"No that'll be really nice to see them. Okay I'm just gonna jump in the shower, then I'm all yours." You call as you're already walking into the bedroom to undress.

There's a beat, and then-

"Frank...? What's this?" You appear back at the doorway, the the bag dangling from the string handle on your hooked finger.

He sheepishly joins you in the bedroom. "An apology, from Max and me. Mainly Max as I ain't the one that ate your underwear." Frank looks over his shoulder at the dog curled up on the living room couch like he's denying all knowledge.

You snort. "Wait- what?!"

"M'sorry baby, I didn't catch him in time. Was hopin' it's a decent replacement, but if it ain't we can change it. You know I'm crap at this stuff."

You take out the tissue paper package from the bag, sitting on the bed and unwrapping it carefully on your lap. Whatever it is it's black. That's good, not that you were expecting some neon monstrosity from Frank, he was definitely one for the classic look when it came to the bedroom, but then again he'd say he thought you were smoking hot in a tatty old sweater and odd socks.

"You pick this?"

"Well I had some help from the shop (he left a big tip). But yeah. You like it?"

You run your fingers over the soft lacy cup of the wireless bralet, holding it up to look at it more closely. It was the right size anyway, one thing Frank was definitely good at was recon and attention to detail, that is if he didn't already have your bra size and other measurements ingrained in his brain. There were panties to match, not cut too high, again, silky soft, lacy and very sexy.

"I think I'm gonna have to try them on before I make up my mind on whether to forgive Max or not..."

A muscle in Frank's jaw twitches at the challenging look in your eyes as you take the contents of the bag into the ensuite with you, closing the door.

Frank is sat on the bed as you change, patiently waiting, almost biting his nails until you slowly emerge from the bathroom, one mouthwateringly delicious step at a time. You stop and pose, shifting your weight from hip to hip, pouting and biting your bottom lip at him.

"Hmm, what do you think? You wanna eat these panties, Frank?"

You're a fucking goddess. You were aways a goddess but holy crap, you wearing something he picked out and standing in front of him looking at him like that?

You smile a little wickedly as you climb on to him, and as you straddle his lap his hands are already all over your skin, brushing over the pretty straps and seams of your new undergarments.

"Sweetheart, baby, darlin', I wanna eat you."

You grab his face gently, "I was actually thinking that maybe we should save all this for tomorrow night, I'll wear these when we go to David and Sarah's for dinner. What do you reckon? Think you can keep your hands off me till tomorrow night when we get home?"

Frank has to grip his own thighs to stop himself from tackling you to the mattress right now. If this was his punishment it was gonna be unbearable.

"Yeah, okay, whatever you want." He husks, eyes darker than pools of ink.

You boop the end of his crooked nose with your finger before extricating yourself from over his tented sweatpants. "Good boy."

Frank groans as you leave him high and dry and disappear back into the bathroom to shower, wishing he could join you.

It wasn't easy tearing yourself away like that, you wanted him to ravish you as much as he did you. But still, he seemed keen to work for your forgiveness and he was only going to get that through some pretty hard repentance. And besides, you knew how fiery hot the sex was if the two of you had to wait for it.

Saturday night was only the next day and yet it felt like an eternity to Frank after not being able touch you. As he took in your pretty standard jeans and sweater combo his mouth was almost watering as he knew fine well what was hidden underneath. It didn't even matter that you were wearing sexy lingerie or not he just wanted you.

"Frank! Would you pass the fricken potatoes, please?!" David's apparently third request for potatoes shakes him out of his stupor.

"Earth to spaceman Frank, the hell is up with you?" He clicks his fingers either side of his head.

"Huh? Nothin', here." Frank grumbles as he finally sends more carbs David's way.

He's like this all night, and all you can do is try to hide your laughter behind a mouthful of food. Frank's been watching you like a hungry dog the whole time and you're living for it. Sarah knows something's going on but she doesn't ask for details.

"Let's just say he's being denied his treats for a little while." You explained to her with a wink in the kitchen later.

Sarah laughs as she tops up your wine glass. "Oh my god, they get so damn grouchy don't they?"

"And desperate," you add, and she hums knowingly as if she's recalling a specific incident, nodding emphatically.

"Hm, guess we better call it a night. I don't wanna make him suffer too much I guess."

"Oh you're far kinder than me!"

When you make a move to leave, Frank wastes absolutely no time grabbing his jacket and keys.

"Thanks for having us over you guys." You tell the couple, waving.

"No problem," David says, then gestures at Frank. "But hey, look after this big goon will you? His head doesn't seem like it's screwed on right."

"Yeah yeah whatever. G'night." Frank grabs your hand and pulls you towards the truck like the house is on fire as you giggle after him.

"Bye guys!"

When he pulls up at home you've barely shut the truck door before Frank's picking you up and marching to the front door. As soon as he's managed to unlock and slam it behind him he's got you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he attacks your mouth with his. You gasp as he squeezes your ass through your jeans, mouth traveling down the side of your neck as his hips press against yours letting you feel just how hard you've got him. You claw and shove at his jacket, urging him to take it off and you quickly remove your own and kick off your boots as he shrugs it onto the floor and does the same. He picks you back up again, carrying you straight through to the bedroom. Max raises his head briefly and then grunts as he goes back to sleep.

Once you land on the bed Frank is all over you, big hands caressing your body through your sweater which he yanks up over your head but doesn't remove completely, leaving your arms trapped before his mouth is back on your skin worshipping absolutely every inch of you, his lips and tongue trailing over the lace that contains your breasts.

"Frank- fuck!" You buck your hips up against his.

"Mm you want this now?" He growls and lets you free. You tug at his flannel and he's barely pulled it off before your hands are slipping up under his black shirt and feeling over his stomach and pecs, mapping your territory.

"God, you know how hard it was not to fuck you over that goddamn dining table?"

You tug and pull his belt free from the buckle, yanking down the zipper and slipping your hand in to stroke him firmly through his black boxer briefs. You bite down on your bottom lip, it's like a steel rod. "Was it this hard? Huh?"

"Fuck, baby- you know it." He hisses as you work him through the soft fabric, leaning down and kissing you so hungrily you're soaking though those pretty panties he bought you. It's as if he can sense it, unbuttoning your jeans and thrusting his hand down in front without bothering to take them off. His fingers are firm and focused, tracing the line of your folds where the silk is damp and sticking to your core from your arousal.

"God damn sweetheart..."

You moan as he strokes and cups your pussy, ruining your panties with how turned on you are. You move your hips against his hand, enjoying the delicious friction as you keep rubbing and squeezing his rock hard erection until neither of you can wait any longer. It's you that breaks first, pushing him away while you shimmy out of your jeans in record time. He does the same until he kneeling naked in front of you. You're still wearing the underwear that started all this and you intend to keep wearing it as you crawl forward, push him to lay back on the bed and mount him. He watches you transfixed as you spread your knees wide, simply pulling your panties to one side and sliding slowly down to take his cock inside, inch by fucking beautiful inch. You moan together as he bottoms out, feeling the completeness as he throbs and you squeeze. His hands skate up your back and you start to rock your hips back and forth, the feeling of him dragging against this deepest part of you like nothing else.

"God, you're so fucking incredible." He tells you, those dark brown eyes darting everywhere trying to take in all of you at once.

"So are you. Feels so good Frank-"

Your breath soon changes to short pants as you bounce yourself up and down on his dick, and he holds on to your hips, thrusting his own upwards to meet you, your gorgeous tits looking like they're about to jiggle right out of that little lacy bralet.

"Oh fuck, that's it baby, so good.." He looks down to watch his cock disappear in and out of you, getting covered with more of your cream each time. Your fingers dig into his chest as you hold on, throwing your head back as he palms and caresses one of your breasts, earning a wanton moan from you when he rubs and pinches your hard nipple between his fingers.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and guide him to where you need him.

"Alright sweetheart, I got you." His breath is coming harder as he watches you intensely, seeing the pleasure twist your features into a picture of ecstacy when he slips his hand between the damp lace and your skin and circles his fingers right on your clit. You fall forward against him and he's got you, one hand between your hot bodies and the other holding your jaw, his thumb over the front of your throat as he keeps fucking up into you hard.

It's been a struggle not to lose his mind already before this point, you're just magic, absolute witchcraft to him. The way you had him begging for your touch, the way you look no matter if you're wearing sexy clothes or not, the way you fucking feel riding his cock. He's gonna see stars soon, he knows it.

Luckily you're on the same page, your moans getting louder and higher, the way you still your body, feeling him pounding into you...

"F-frank I'm-" you gasp as he doubles down, hips pistoning as he rubs your slick throbbing clit so fast you'd swear he was using a toy.

"Come on princess, let me feel it." Frank's strained plea drives you over the edge, undulating your hips with his again as the feeling bubbles up and bursts out from your center and through the rest of your body. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you so passionately, tongue twisting and lapping against yours. He groans long and deep as your tremors bring on his own sweet release, holding on to you tightly, burying himself into you in a last few powerful thrusts.

The two of you lie wrapped in each other for a while, just breathing, until Max pads into the room and starts licking Frank's foot.

"Here's trouble." He announces as he lets his head thunk back on the mattress while you gingerly sit up and raise yourself off him.

"I forgive him." You say smiling at Max as he wags his tail seemingly in understanding.

"You know they say don't blame the dog, blame the owner? Will you forgive me?" Frank looks up at you with the saddest puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"After that? And this?" You say, gesturing to what you're wearing. "Yeah, I think you get a pass too."

You grab his hand and help pull him up. "C'mon baby, let's shower and then take Pantyeater for a walk."

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 4✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 6498

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Dean’s eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, but there was a gentleness beneath it that you hadn’t seen before, a warmth that seemed to speak of all the unspoken things between you. He leaned in a little closer, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you.

“Still making me work for it, huh?”, he teased, his tone playful but filled with an affection that felt deeply personal. “I swear, you haven’t changed a bit”.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through you. “But maybe that’s just part of your charm”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, so soft it felt like it was meant only for you. “You always knew how to keep me on my damn toes”.

His gaze never wavered, locked on yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noise of the world around you. There was a vulnerability there, a hint of something deeper that he was offering without saying a word. The teasing smirk softened, his eyes reflecting the weight of everything he was trying to convey, all the words he hadn’t said back then and the feelings that had lingered, just waiting for this moment.

“Think you might give me another chance to make a few new memories?”, he asked softly, the question hanging in the air, equal parts hopeful and sincere.

You felt a spark of excitement mingling with a sudden wave of nerves, the mixture leaving you a bit breathless. Dean’s presence, his soft teasing, his gaze that seemed to reach right through you—it was overwhelming in the best way, but the memory of yesterday lingered. You took a shaky breath, letting your fingers brush against his hand before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a little smile tugging at your lips despite your nerves.

“What about that whole goodbye yesterday?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the question might mask just how giddy you felt inside. “I thought you were out of here, off to some other town by now”.

Before Dean could answer, Sam, who was still deeply engrossed in his book, piped up with a deadpan comment, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the page. “Oh, we’re sticking around for a few more days”, he mumbled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dean’s a little too… distracted to focus on the case right now”.

Dean shot Sam a glare, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thanks, Sammy. Real subtle”.

Sam still didn’t even look up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he flipped another page. “Hey, someone’s gotta point out the obvious”, he said, shrugging casually. “Otherwise, we’ll be here forever while you pretend it’s all about ‘research’”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “Real funny, Sam. I’m just trying to… handle things”, he said. But Sam wasn’t done.

“Yeah, ‘handle things’. That what we’re calling it now?”, Sam finally looked up, his grin unrepentant. “Pretty sure this case could’ve been wrapped up yesterday if someone hadn’t been, you know..”.

Dean looked ready to retort, but you cut in, suppressing a laugh. “Well, I’m glad he’s sticking around for the ‘case’”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Though, maybe Sam’s right. Wouldn’t want you to get too… distracted”.

Sam’s laughter bubbled up as he leaned back in the armchair, clearly enjoying every moment of Dean’s embarrassment. “See, she gets it”, he said, winking at you. “Guess I’ll just take the lead on the case. Let you two ‘handle things’ in the meantime”.

Dean gave an exasperated sigh, but there was no hiding the smile that played on his lips as he shot his brother a look. “Fine. You get point on the case”, he grumbled, “but I swear, one more comment out of you and you’re sleeping in the car”.

“Worth it”, Sam replied, unfazed, his grin wide.

Then, Sam stood up, holding up a book he’d clearly deemed useful, and looked at you with a casual, “How much?”. But before he could reach for his wallet, you shook your head gently, a small smile on your lips as you looked between the two brothers.

“It’s on the house”, you murmured, “if your brother agrees to get those milkshakes with me”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, surprised but clearly pleased, his smirk quickly replacing his stunned expression. “Well, that sounds like a deal to me”, he replied, shooting Sam a triumphant look. “Milkshakes it is”.

Sam rolled his eyes with a good-natured sigh, tossing Dean a look that said, I knew this was coming. “I’ll wait in the car”, he said, clearly amused by the whole situation. He held the book up in a half-hearted salute, then headed toward the door, the bell above jingling as he stepped outside.

Dean watched his brother leave, rolling his eyes but smiling to himself. As the door closed, he turned back to you, the teasing smirk gone, replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“So”, he said, his voice warm and almost hesitant, “guess we’re on for those milkshakes?”.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you nodded, feeling a quiet excitement settle over you. “Guess so”, you replied, your smile mirroring his.

Dean shifted slightly, hands finding their way into his pockets, his gaze never wavering from yours as he spoke. “Well… when do you close up here?”, he asked, his tone casual but his eyes carrying that unmistakable spark of anticipation. “Figure I can come back and pick you up”.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you looked back at him. “I’ll be done around six”, you replied, feeling a little thrill run through you at the thought of him coming back, of sharing a night out with him like old times.

Dean nodded, that familiar grin breaking through. “Alright, I’ll be here”, he said, his voice warm with certainty. He took a small step back, as if giving you space but still keeping close enough to make it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “Guess I’ll see you at six, then”.

“Looking forward to it”, you replied, your voice softer than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The easy charm in his smile, the way he looked at you—it all made it impossible to hide your excitement.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave you a final, lingering look before heading toward the door. “See you soon”, he said, the words carrying a promise. With one last grin, he stepped out, leaving the door to chime softly in his wake.

Back in the car, Sam was already nose-deep in the book he’d picked up from your shop, eyes scanning the pages as he began to mutter. “Alright, I think I might have a lead here. Looks like there’s something about local lore—could be tied to a spirit or curse”. He continued to flip through the pages, his voice growing more animated as he pieced together the clues. But a few moments later, he glanced up, quickly realizing that Dean’s focus was nowhere near the case.

Dean was leaning back in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with a faint smile on his face, his gaze distant and his expression soft. Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he closed the book slightly to get his brother’s attention.

“Earth to Dean”, Sam said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m over here talking about the case, and you’re clearly somewhere else”.

Dean blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, but the smirk on his face didn’t fade. “Huh? Oh, yeah, the case. Ghosts and… stuff”. He shrugged, clearly trying to play it off, though he wasn’t fooling Sam in the slightest.

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back with an exasperated sigh. “You’re seriously gone, aren’t you?”, he teased, crossing his arms as he watched Dean with a knowing grin. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this distracted since—well, probably since the last time you saw her”.

Dean tried to hide his grin, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Can you blame me?”, he muttered, glancing out the window as if trying to avoid Sam’s teasing look. “I mean… she’s different. Always was”.

Sam’s expression softened slightly, his teasing tone fading as he nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I know”, he said quietly, giving Dean a small, supportive smile. “Guess it’s about time you got a second chance, huh? Without… dad being a dick about it”.

Dean looked toward Sam, his expression shifting as a flicker of something unspoken passed between them. He knew Sam was right—this was a second chance, a rare one in their lives. The memory surfaced then, unbidden, of the last time he’d felt this strongly, back when he’d snuck into the motel after that first night with you, only to find his father waiting, disapproval practically radiating off him.

-Flashback-

The motel was silent as Dean carefully turned the doorknob, hoping to sneak back in unnoticed. He was exhausted, still floating in the quiet afterglow of the night he’d spent with you, and all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before facing another day of the usual grind. But as he stepped inside, he froze. John was sitting at the small table by the window, a cup of coffee in hand, his eyes dark and cold as he stared at his son.

Dean swallowed, knowing immediately that he wasn’t getting off easy. He barely managed to shut the door before John spoke, his voice low and laced with that familiar edge of disappointment.

"Where the hell have you been, Dean?", John’s tone wasn’t just accusatory—it was dismissive, as if he already knew the answer and couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than his own frustration. "Out wasting time, doing God-knows-what? Thought you were better than some lovesick idiot chasing after a girl".

Dean clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body tense. "Just needed some air", he muttered, trying to downplay it, hoping that would be enough. But John wasn’t having it.

"Air, huh?", John scoffed, standing up and moving closer, his presence filling the small room. "You're supposed to be focused, Dean. Not out there making a fool of yourself over some girl". The way he spat out the word "girl" made it clear how little he thought of you—or anyone outside their world.

Dean felt his fists clench, a sharp pang of anger shooting through him. "I know my priorities, Dad", he replied, his voice controlled but barely hiding the frustration he felt.

"Doesn’t look like it", John shot back, his voice growing louder. "You’ve got responsibilities. You think any girl out there is gonna understand that? Gonna put up with our life?". He shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping him. "No, Dean, you’re fooling yourself. And you’re wasting your damn time. Love is for idiots who can afford it".

The noise stirred Sam, who was asleep in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, clearly disoriented. "What’s going on?".

"Nothing", John snapped, shooting a glare at Sam. "Just your brother learning the hard way that our family doesn’t get to have normal lives. We don’t get to waste time on pointless things". He turned his gaze back to Dean, his expression hard and unyielding. "You’re gonna end up just like me, Dean. Chained to this life because it’s all you’ll ever have".

The words hit Dean like a punch to the gut, and for a second, he felt every bit the "lovesick kid" his father accused him of being. He wanted to argue, to push back, to tell John he was wrong. But the weight of his father’s expectations, of the life they’d been handed, pressed down on him, leaving him feeling trapped and small.

As John finally walked away, heading to the bathroom without another word, Sam looked at Dean, his eyes wide with sympathy and quiet understanding.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice tentative, but Dean shook his head, silencing his brother. He didn’t want Sam’s sympathy. He didn’t want to admit that John’s words had gotten to him, that they’d dug deep into his insecurities.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy”, Dean mumbled, his voice thick, trying to bury everything he felt.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean let out a quiet sigh, his gaze distant as he thought about that night, about how he’d felt torn between his father’s expectations and his own desire for something real, something normal. Sitting here now, next to Sam, he realized just how different things could be now, with John gone and the two of them forging their own path.

“Guess I don’t have to worry about Dad breathing down my neck this time”, Dean said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well, Dad’s not here to tell you what you can’t do”, Sam replied quietly, his tone both gentle and encouraging. “So maybe… it’s time to focus on what you actually want”.

Dean let Sam’s words sink in. For years, every choice he’d made, every relationship he’d considered, had always been shaped by his father’s voice in the back of his mind. But now? There was no rulebook.

“Maybe”, Dean murmured, looking out the window as if he could already see a new path forming before him. He gave a wry smile, finally meeting Sam’s gaze. “Didn’t think you’d be my life coach, Sammy, but… thanks”.

Sam shrugged, that familiar teasing smirk returning. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to screw this up, alright?”, he joked, though there was real warmth behind the words.

Dean laughed, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement settle in his chest. He knew what he wanted—to be with you, at least for now, without worrying about where it might lead or how it might end. It was a freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

A few hours later, Dean found himself in tiny bathroom of the motel, carefully trimming his beard with a level of precision he usually reserved for his Impala’s engine. The air was thick with his familiar cologne, the rich, woodsy scent mixing with the stale air of the cramped bathroom. He traced his jawline with his fingertips, checking the results in the mirror.

Just then, Sam appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

Dean caught sight of Sam’s reflection in the mirror and groaned, already anticipating the ribbing he was about to get. He turned off the trimmer, setting it down.

“Well, I’d say you look a little too good for just ‘milkshakes’, don’t you think?”, Sam teased, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His gaze dropped pointedly to Dean’s chest, which was notably smoother than usual.

Dean shot him a mock glare, though a slight blush crept up his neck. “Give it a rest, Sammy”, he muttered, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head a little too quickly, as if that might cover up both the grooming and his embarrassment. “Nothing wrong with looking decent once in a while”.

“Decent? Dean, you shaved your damn chest. Just admit it—you’re trying to impress her”.

Dean rolled his eyes, looking down at the red flannel in his hands with a hint of frustration. He didn’t have anything particularly nice to wear—nothing that screamed “date night” instead of “hunter”. Besides his usual gear, the only remotely formal outfit he owned was the standard FBI getup he kept stashed for cases. The thought crossed his mind that it would’ve been nice to have something a little different, something that didn’t reek of constant travel, hunts, and long hours on the road.

With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the flannel over his black T-shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. It wasn’t flashy, but at least it was him. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression softening, and he mumbled almost to himself, “Just don’t want her to think… bad of me, you know?”.

Sam’s smirk softened into a small, understanding smile. “Dean”, he murmured, his voice carrying that brotherly reassurance, “She’s known you since high school. You looked the same back then”.

Dean scoffed lightly, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, I was hoping I’d improved a little since then”, he replied, though the tension in his voice had softened. “It’s been a while, Sammy”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, she’s not interested in the clothes or the cologne, Dean. She’s interested in you”. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “And honestly, I think she’s already pretty into you, flannel and all”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, the trace of a blush still visible. “Guess it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options anyway”, he muttered, but Sam could hear the hint of nerves in his tone—the rare, genuine excitement that Dean hadn’t shown in a long time.

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re gonna be fine. Just… be yourself”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was 18 all over again, back in those early days when he’d first met you. “Be myself”, he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m worried about”.

Sam chuckled, leaning back with a knowing look. “Yeah, but it worked back then, didn’t it? Flannel, leather jacket, that same cocky smile… trust me, Dean, it’s part of the package”.

Dean let out a reluctant laugh, but there was a hint of warmth there, too. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”.

“I try”, Sam replied, grinning. “Now, go on—don’t keep her waiting”.

Dean took a steadying breath, letting himself absorb the moment, that nervous energy thrumming beneath the surface. “Fine, fine”, he muttered, grabbing his jacket and tossing Sam a smirk as he headed toward the door. “Just don’t get too cozy in the motel room without me, alright?”.

Sam’s laugh echoed behind him as Dean stepped outside, each step bringing him closer to that familiar flutter of excitement and nerves he hadn’t felt in ages. He couldn’t believe it—he was actually nervous.

Dean drove through town toward your bookstore, his fingers tapping the wheel rhythmically as he tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t like him to feel this jittery over a simple outing, but with you, it felt like so much more than just milkshakes.

When he finally pulled up outside your shop, you greeted him with a warm smile as you slid into the passenger seat. He could feel his heart pick up as you buckled in, your presence somehow amplifying his nerves and excitement all at once.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him, biting your lip as you hesitated before asking, “Hey, would you mind making a quick stop at my apartment? I just want to freshen up a bit”.

Dean glanced over, caught off guard by the question. His instinct was to say there was no need—he thought you looked perfect already, but he wasn’t quite sure how to say that without sounding too forward. Instead, he fumbled slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, sure. I mean, you… you don’t have to or anything. You look great”. His words tumbled out in an awkward rush, and he added, “But yeah, if you want, of course. No problem”.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered response, and gave him the directions. The short drive to your apartment was filled with light conversation, but he could sense the undercurrent of anticipation between you both. As he parked outside, he cleared his throat, giving you a little grin as you got out. “I’ll be here”, he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Come on, Dean, you can wait upstairs”, you teased. “No more parents around”. You gave him a wink, which had him chuckling awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

He cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance as he stepped out of the car to follow you up, but his mind was already wandering back to those sneaking-around days and you both had been a little less lucky…

-Flashback-

It was early morning, the sunlight streaming through the window brighter than either of you had planned for. Dean blinked himself awake, his arm draped over you, only to realize with a jolt that you’d both overslept. “Crap”, he muttered under his breath, easing himself out of bed as quietly as he could manage.

You were still drowsy, wrapped up in a blanket, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched him stumble around, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his boots. You knew the drill by now—Dean’s early exits were routine, sneaking out before your parents could suspect anything. But today, you both miscalculated.

Dean had just tied one boot and was reaching for the other when the door creaked open. He froze, his eyes wide, and you quickly pulled the blanket tighter around you, but it was too late.

Your mom stood there, taking in the scene with an expression that was both shocked and… slightly amused.

Your mom crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look, and then turned her gaze to you, arching a brow. “Good morning. I didn’t realize we had… company”.

You bit your lip, scrambling for something, anything, to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her watch with a slightly exasperated smile. “Shouldn’t you have been out of the window, say… two hours ago?”.

Your eyes went wide, and you glanced at Dean, whose face mirrored your expression of pure disbelief. Neither of you had expected this; for all the times he’d snuck in and out, you’d never imagined she’d known about it.

“Wait”, Dean stammered, looking between you and your mom, “you… you knew?”.

Your mom gave a half-sigh, half-smile, crossing her arms with a look that was almost amused. “A mother knows when her daughter’s sneaking someone in”. she said matter-of-factly. “I let it slide because… well, I had my suspicions that it was just you two being young and… figuring things out”. She glanced pointedly at Dean’s boots on the floor, then back at you. “But you’d better hope your dad never catches you, because he’s nowhere near as… understanding”.

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely look up at Dean, who was still frozen in place. But, as mortifying as it was, there was a warmth to her tone, an unspoken acknowledgment that somehow, she understood. It softened the edge of the embarrassment, though only slightly.

Dean managed a small smile, one that held a hint of sheepishness. “I, uh… appreciate the heads-up, ma’am”.

She gave him a look that was both stern and kind. “Just be smart”, she replied, giving you both one last glance before she turned to leave, muttering, “And next time… maybe set an alarm”.

The door closed, and the two of you sat in stunned silence for a moment before you both burst into nervous laughter, the shared shock and relief pulling you closer.

-End of the Flashback-

Standing in your apartment now, you looked back at Dean, the memory filling the space between you. Dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought”, he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth rise in your cheeks again. “Yeah, guess we were a little obvious, huh?”, you said, shaking your head as the memory settled between you both. It felt strangely comforting, this shared history that only the two of you truly understood.

Dean’s grin softened, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Well, at least we’re a little older now”, he teased, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe. “No more sneaking out windows or dodging your mom”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Right. Now it’s just dodging Sam’s smart comments”, you joked, but there was an undeniable sweetness beneath your words.

Dean’s gaze drifted around your apartment, taking in the small details that made it feel so distinctly you—the cozy throw draped over the couch, the collection of books stacked in one corner, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. He paused in front of a framed family picture on a nearby shelf, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he looked at it.

“How’s your mom?”, he asked softly, his tone gentle, as if the question held a dozen other questions he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask yet.

You stepped beside him, following his gaze to the photo. It was a snapshot from a family picnic years ago, your mom’s arm around you, both of you laughing at some long-forgotten joke. A rush of warmth and nostalgia filled you, mingling with the lingering nervous excitement of having Dean here, in your space, sharing these memories with you.

“She’s good”, you replied, a fond smile slipping onto your face. “Still looking out for me, always asking if I’ve ‘met any nice boys’ lately”. You gave him a playful nudge, rolling your eyes at the memory. “Not sure what she’d say if she knew I was spending time with… well, you again”.

Dean chuckled, but his expression softened, a hint of warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Guess I didn’t leave the best impression back then, huh?”. There was a flicker of something like regret in his eyes, but he brushed it off quickly, his gaze settling back on you. “Even though I liked her… a lot”, he murmured, almost to himself, like he was processing the weight of his own memories. His gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of nostalgia and maybe even a touch of regret lingering there.

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him with an incredulous smile. “You’re kidding, right?”, you chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Dean, she loved you. At least every two months, she’s sitting with me and Dad at dinner, looking all thoughtful and sighing, ‘I bet you and Dean would’ve given me a grandchild by now’”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly before he let out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. “Seriously? She said that?”. He grinned, a little self-conscious, but you could see the hint of pride in his expression, like he hadn’t expected to have left that kind of impression on her.

“Every time”, you affirmed, laughing as you thought back to the countless times your mom had brought him up. “It’s like, no matter how much time passes, she just can’t let go of the idea that you and I were supposed to… I don’t know, end up together or something”.

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You won her over on Halloween”, you murmured, remembering that night vividly.

-Flashback-

Halloween night had settled in with the chill of autumn, pumpkins lit on doorsteps and a hint of wood smoke in the air. Your dad was out of town, as he often was, leaving just you and your mom to keep up the Halloween traditions. You’d promised her a cozy movie night, just the two of you with popcorn, cookies, and your favorite horror flicks.

When Dean asked if you’d wanted to see a movie with him, the thought of slipping away for a bit had been tempting. But you hesitated, mumbling, “I promised my mom I’d stay in tonight. She’s got this whole thing planned—snacks, homemade cookies. I just… I don’t want to leave her alone, you know?”.

Dean’s face softened in understanding, a warmth in his tone that took you by surprise. “Yeah, I get it”, he said, nodding as if he genuinely respected that. He’d never quite been used to this kind of affection or tradition, but he could see how much it meant to you.

You bit your lip, feeling a bit shy as you added, “And… Actually… She sort of asked if you were planning on sneaking in again tonight or… if you’d want to come by a little earlier. Through the front door this time”. You glanced up at him, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “She said she wouldn’t mind getting to know you… you know, officially”.

Dean blinked, taken aback for a moment, a faint blush creeping up his neck. But then a small smile broke through, soft and genuine. “Yeah?”, he murmured, surprised but clearly pleased. “Well, I could do that. I mean… if you’re sure she’s okay with it?”.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “She’s more than okay with it. She was… well, I think she’s actually a little curious about the guy I keep sneaking around with”.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and a bit bashful. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll bring my best manners”. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes, but you could tell that underneath it, he was touched by the invitation.

A couple of hours later, Dean stood on your front porch, fidgeting slightly as he smoothed down his jacket, looking more nervous than ever. When you opened the door, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him standing there, his usual bravado softened into something more real, more earnest.

As you led him into the cozy warmth of your home, the aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Your mom appeared in the kitchen doorway, a warm smile lighting up her face as she wiped her hands on a towel. “So, Dean was it, right?”, she said, her tone welcoming but curious. She extended her hand, and he shook it, his smile both charming and a little shy.

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied, his voice respectful, clearly wanting to make a good impression.

Your mom chuckled softly as she looked him over, her eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of approval. “ma'am? Uhh, I like him”, she mused aloud, turning to you with a playful smile before looking back at Dean. “I like you, Dean! You’ve got good manners”. She winked, clearly enjoying herself, making Dean shift a bit under the unexpected praise, but his grin didn’t falter.

“Thank you, ma’am”, Dean replied, his voice genuinely grateful.

Your mom led you both toward the kitchen, where the smell of warm cider filled the air. She grabbed three mugs, filling them with the steaming drink before setting them on the table. “I made this batch a little special”, she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Added a touch of something stronger—don’t worry, Dean, in Europe you’re well within the drinking age”, she winked. “Helps with the Halloween chill”.

Dean chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he took the warm mug from her hands. “Well, can’t say no to that”, he said, looking at you with a playful smirk before taking a sip. The taste was warm, spiced, and a little sharper than he expected, but he took it in stride, enjoying the drink and the friendly welcome.

The three of you settled around the kitchen table, and your mom wasted no time in asking Dean questions about his life, his family, and his interests. She listened with genuine interest, her gaze flicking between you and Dean with a subtle smile. You could tell she was pleased, maybe even relieved, to see the two of you together like this, as if her instincts about him had been right all along.

As the evening went on, Dean’s natural charm and respectful demeanor had your mom fully captivated. Even though he had to be careful about what he shared, steering away from the supernatural realities of his life, he answered her questions with an easy politeness that felt genuine. He spoke about his love of cars, a few of his favorite bands, and, without meaning to, started talking about you.

Every time he mentioned your name, there was a softness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. He described the way you’d sneak out for late-night talks, how you could make him laugh no matter what was going on, and his voice took on a rare tenderness when he looked your way. It was clear he was speaking from a place of true admiration and respect, and he had your mom completely wrapped around his finger, though he didn’t seem aware of it.

Your mom beamed, clearly enjoying every bit of his stories. “Well”, she said with a warm smile, looking between you and Dean, “it sounds like you two have been getting along just fine. And you know, Dean, I’m glad she has a friend like you around. She’s always been independent, but it’s good to know there’s someone watching out for her”.

Dean glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, as if he was still taking in the fact that he was here, being welcomed like this. “She’s something special”, he said, almost to himself, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

Your mom smiled, nodding. “I can see that”, she replied, looking at you with a proud, knowing expression before shifting her gaze back to Dean. “And you’re welcome here anytime, Dean”.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean took a deep breath, grounding himself back in the present as the warm memory faded, leaving behind a bittersweet ache. He looked around your apartment, taking in the familiar comfort of your space, and he felt that same warmth from years ago, the kind that made him feel at home in a way he rarely did.

You caught him staring at the family photo again, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you noticed the look of nostalgia in his eyes. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having these memories”.

Dean nodded, his gaze meeting yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah”, he murmured. “It is”.

The silence between you felt heavy but comforting, filled with words left unsaid and memories that spoke for themselves. There was something in Dean’s eyes that made you feel like he was seeing you as that teenager all over again—the girl he’d climbed through windows for.

“Didn’t think of them for a while tho”, Dean mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the family photo, though his mind was miles away. His voice held a quiet vulnerability, as if he were opening a door he’d kept closed for years, trying to keep those memories and all they meant at arm’s length.

You moved a little closer, your presence grounding him as he stood there, shoulders slightly slouched, a small, soft smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “It’s strange, but… it feels like it hasn’t been that long since—well, since all of this”.

You felt the weight of his words, sensing that he wasn’t just talking about your apartment or even the past itself but something deeper, something that still connected the two of you. There was a warmth in his eyes, a lingering reminder of that young man he’d been, and the version of yourself that had found something so real in him, even when everything else was uncertain.

“Maybe some things are worth remembering”, you said softly, meeting his gaze and letting the words hang in the air.

Dean nodded, his eyes holding yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah”. he replied, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. “Some things definitely are”.

The quiet, unspoken understanding between you felt like a fragile bridge, connecting who you were then with who you were now.

Before the moment could deepen, you took a small step back, feeling the intensity of the conversation settle over you like a warm but slightly overwhelming blanket. “I’m just… gonna head to the bathroom real quick”, you murmured, offering a shy smile. “Make yourself at home”.

Dean gave you a quick nod, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Will do”, he replied, watching as you slipped away. He took a deep breath, looking around your apartment once more with a sense of reverence, noticing all the small details that made it so distinctly yours.

As you closed the bathroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, catching your breath. The quiet excitement of having him here, of feeling the past rush back with such clarity, filled you with a thrill that was both comforting and new. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the sense that no matter how many years had passed, there was still something alive between you, something that neither time nor distance had managed to erase.

Meanwhile, Dean took in the space around him, glancing at your bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of well-loved novels, and finding little reminders of who you’d grown into. He smiled to himself, feeling at home in a way he hadn’t in a long time, as if this space held all the things that had been missing from his life on the road.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28

[dancingdonatello]

coming up on finishing cherry (as it is anyways hehe), and WOW. maybe I do like villain aus actually. leo's characterization is so stellar, and I love the bits of the other boys we see. good shit!!! raph's crush on the reader has my heart hurting for him a lil bit 😭 if you don't mind the request, might I ask for a rise raph crushing on a reciprocating, but equally oblivious reader? the way you write him fawning over the reader is so adorable!! take your time if you decide to!! <3 -@boybeholding

thanks so much 🥺🥺 i’m glad you liked my characterization !!! i tried to keep him as true to himself as he could be

rise raph x reader

“So.” Raph shifted beside you on the couch. His weight made the cushions dip and you slipped into his side. You scooted away. Then fell back into his side. You looked up at him with an awkward smile which he returned.

“So…” You looked towards the projection on the screen. “What are we watching?”

“Um.” He focused on the projection but you saw how he glanced at you multiple times. “You can pick, Raph doesn’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well. To be honest, we only have Splinter’s shows downloaded. Donnie hasn’t shown any of us how to project other shows…”

You stared at him. “What? You’ve lived here your whole life and don’t know how to use a projector?”

His scales flushed and he shrugged, nervously fumbling around with his hands. “Dad usually hogs the living room, so…”

“Hm.” You looked back to the wall. “Wanna just come over to mine then?”

“Yours?” His voice went a few octaves higher than usual and you sent him a surprised glance. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, “yours?”

“Yeah. Nobody’s home so.” He went rigid. “Are you okay?” You reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“I’m okay.” He stood up, grabbing you effortlessly. “Let’s go.”

“Uh—” He carried you towards the lair exit and you swore you saw three pairs of white eyes staring at you from the shadows. “Okay.” This was alright. Who didn’t like being manhandled by a muscle-y mutant who could probably do many, many things to you. Anyways.

He cleared his throat again, looking nervous. Tucked against his chest, you peered at him curiously.

“You look… nice today.” He risked a peek down at you before his gaze snapped back up to where he was going. “As always.”

You melted at the compliment, fingers brushing against his plastron. You smiled when he shivered. “Thanks.”

[blueishspace]

Hero Villain God Bonus 1

(Prev) (Next) (First)

✨Hotguy answers the internet's most asked questions.✨

*The video opens to Hotguy in hero outfit sitting on a chair in a white room, he waves at the camera*

"Hello people! Hotguy here and this is my autocomplete interview!"

*Intro music*

"I'm dyslexic so I don't know how well reading is going to go"

[What Hotguy]

"What is... Hotguy's real name? Oh I'm sorry but you aren't going to find that on the internet! It's very confidential. I have seen a few interesting theories about it though"

*Hotguy has a pensive expression*

"For example, I heard people say I'm secretly Mayor Ren. It's kind of funny even if completely wrong. Next!"

"What is Hotguy's age? Uh, you guys are really curious about me...hence this whole thing, I'm flattered. You know, there is this site that said that I'm in my late fourties! Can you believe it friends? My fourties! I don't look that old do I?"

*The hand of the cameraman appears to do a so-so motion, Hotguy gasps*

"How dare you! I'll have you know I'm not fourty or worse...fifty"

"What is Hotguy's favorite colour? Orange of course! Next question!"

*Hotguy very dramatically reveals the next one*

"What is Hotguy's net worth?"

..."I don't even know Hotguy's net worth and I'm him"

*Hotguy giggles*

"To be honest, my manager helps me with that kind of stuff. They're totally awesome."

"What shampoo does Hotguy use? Oh you like my hair, do you? Well, I like caramel or oh oh! Maple syrup scented shampoo, really nice sweet smell. It was actually gifted to me first by the number 5 hero Tay and I liked it so much I kept buying it."

"What is Hotguy's personality type? I uh never done a test for that, my manager said it would be dumb so I never done it... Maybe I could do it in the future! What do you civilians think?"

[Did Hotguy?]

"Oh no, what did I do? I'm getting worried"

*He anxiously reveals the first one*

"Did Hotguy... Fire his pr team? Who is asking this? No! I did not do anything of the sort, I'll have you know that my pr team is having a great time... What's with that face mr. Camera man?"

*Cut to the next question*

"Did Hotguy kiss... Really? ... Did Hotguy kiss Mother Spore? I very much did not, she almost killed me in fact. I don't know where you guys got the idea that I'm in a relationship with her...moving on-"

"Did Hotguy go to school? Well, I did of course, got a degree too! It was around that time that the Hero association first scouted me actually. It's also when my manager actually became...well, my manager, it was a really busy time for me!"

[When Hotguy]

"Let's see, when did Hotguy appear? Oh! You mean my first public appearance? That must have been a while ago actually, 7 or maybe 8 years ago now? I'm not quite sure to be honest!"

*He puts his hand on his chin in thought before smiling*

"These last few years have been great haven't they? And now with my new sidekick entering the scene the next few are going to be even better!"

"When Hotguy merch? Oh, you can expect new merch coming soon! I have so much I want to say about it but I don't want to spoil the surprise! Just know that it's going to be amazing!"

*Wink*

*There is some noise from behind the camera*

"Oh right! Onto the next question!"

"When did Hotguy fight Poultryman? ... That guy sure is an headache, he's following me even here, never going be free of him I swear. It was around a month ago that I fought him for the first time, of course one failure wasn't enough to stop me! I'm still onto him!"

*He stands up as he says it before remembering where he is and sitting down*

[Who Hotguy]

"Who is Hotguy? Just the top hero in the country of course! I guess people outside of Hermmittopia might not know me as much as they do those who live here... "

"Who was Hotguy's first villain? Oh that I do remember, I think it was Midas... It was Midas right? ... Yeah. A really nasty guy with the power of turning things to gold. Of course I catched him and is now somewhere where he can't hurt anyone. Catching him was hard but I manget- ...managed, sorry, to assault his back-"

*❌ Sound*

"I managed to take him from behind -"

*❌ Sound*

"I managed to... Surprise attack him?"

*✅ Sound*

"Who is Hotguy's PR team... Again? You know what, I'm not answering this one again"

"Who is Hotguy's manager? Oh! I can't reveal their name but they're great, probably the smartest person I know! They're a scientist though, so I guess it makes sense that they would know so much!"

[Is Hotguy?]

"Is Hotguy hot? Sure am, It's in the name for a reason friends! Look at these muscles!"

*Hotguy flexes in front of the camera*

"Using a bow as much as I do will do that for you, requires a lot more strenght then people think."

"Is Hotguy... single? I am, saving the city is a lot of work so I don't really have time to date anyone... I know, so many fans must be heartbroken but don't be sad! If you are interested in love then I'm sure you'll find someone ... Or someones perfect for you!"

"Is Hotguy gay?"

...

"I'm pansexual, It's a very different thing. Moving on!"

[Where Hotguy?]

"Where was Hotguy born? Here in Hermmittopia actually, born and raised here! I know it may sound unbeliavable but it's true"

"Last but not least... Where does Hotguy live? I'm uh I really can't say my adress friend! Especially somewhere a villain might be able to see! Sorry!"

[wonlvures]

CONFESSIONS UNDER THE STREETLIGHTS - LEE HEESEUNG

PAIRING: Heeseung x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: Once you and heeseung got very close and you started falling for him and got nervous to confess your feelings to him

GENRE: Fluff, friends to lovers, romance

It had been a few months since you and Heeseung started getting closer. What started as casual hangouts after practice, talking about music, or grabbing food together, slowly turned into something more. The late-night phone calls, the inside jokes that no one else understood, and the way he always seemed to remember the little things you’d mentioned in passing—it was all becoming too much to ignore.

You tried to convince yourself it was just a phase, that it would pass. But every time you saw him, your heart would beat a little faster, and you’d find yourself smiling for no reason at all. You realized, somewhere along the way, you were falling for him. And it scared you.

You never expected to feel this way. Heeseung was your friend. You didn’t want to ruin that, and worse, you were terrified of what might happen if he didn’t feel the same. So you kept your feelings hidden, buried deep down, hoping they would eventually fade. But every time you were around him, it only got harder to ignore.

One evening, after a long practice session, Heeseung asked if you wanted to stick around for a bit. It wasn’t unusual. You two often stayed behind to talk or mess around with music ideas. But tonight felt different. The atmosphere between you two had changed. There was a subtle tension in the air that neither of you acknowledged directly, but it was there.

You were sitting on the couch in the practice room, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, while Heeseung worked on tuning his guitar. The soft strumming of the strings filled the room as he adjusted them. Every now and then, he would glance up at you, his gaze lingering just a bit longer than usual before returning to the guitar.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Heeseung said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled. “What?”

Heeseung gave you a knowing smile, one of those smiles that always made you feel like he could see right through you. “You’ve been off lately. Are you okay?”

You swallowed, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Heeseung didn’t seem convinced. He set the guitar aside and turned to face you, his expression softening. “I’ve noticed you’ve been a little… distant. It’s not like you.”

You felt a wave of panic rise in your chest. Could he sense something was wrong? Could he tell what you were hiding?

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Really.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment longer, then sighed. “Okay, I won’t push. But if you ever want to talk, you know I’m here.”

You nodded, feeling a little relieved that he hadn’t pressed you further. But the tension between you two was still there, hanging in the air like an unspoken word. You fidgeted with your phone, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

After a few moments of silence, Heeseung spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. The way he was looking at you made your pulse quicken. There was something in his eyes—something serious.

“What is it?” you asked, trying to sound calm, though your nerves were beginning to get the best of you.

Heeseung leaned back against the couch, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I just… I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”

Your stomach dropped. Was he about to say something important? Something that might change everything between you two?

Heeseung let out a soft breath before speaking again, his eyes never leaving yours. “I feel like there’s something between us. Something more than just friendship. I don’t know if you’ve felt it too, but whenever I’m around you, it’s like everything feels… easier, you know?”

Your heart raced, and you couldn’t breathe for a moment. Was this really happening? Could he really feel the same way?

“I…” you started, but the words got stuck in your throat. You wanted to say something, but your mind was a jumbled mess.

Heeseung was looking at you now, his gaze intense but gentle, like he was waiting for you to respond. “I don’t want to make things awkward, but I just had to say it. I’ve been feeling this way for a while.”

You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You… you feel the same?” you whispered, the words coming out in a rush.

Heeseung smiled, a soft, relieved smile that made your heart flutter. “Yeah. I’ve liked you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

A wave of relief washed over you, and suddenly the weight of the past few weeks—the nervousness, the uncertainty—seemed to lift. Heeseung liked you. He felt the same way.

“I’ve been so nervous to tell you,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’ve been just as nervous. I didn’t want to make things weird either. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

The tension that had been building between you two finally snapped, and before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning closer, his hand brushing yours lightly. Your breath caught in your throat, and your pulse quickened. Heeseung’s eyes searched yours, and you could see the uncertainty there, but also something else—a quiet confidence, as if he was ready to take the leap.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I think I’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you. “Me too,” you whispered back

And then, slowly, carefully, Heeseung closed the distance between you. His lips met yours gently, a soft kiss that made everything else fade away. It wasn’t rushed or intense, but it was everything you had been holding in your heart for so long. When you pulled away, both of you were smiling—almost shyly, but it was real.

“I’m glad we finally said it,” Heeseung whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice filled with relief.

And for the first time in a long while, everything felt right. The fear of the unknown, the worry about ruining your friendship—all of it vanished in that moment. Because now, you both knew. You both felt the same. And that was all that mattered.

[potchi-fics]

zaun (part three of attention)

i | ii | iii

      rays of sunshine creep through the tiny cracks of your blinds, waking you up from your deep slumber. the moment you open your eyes, you let out a groan of annoyance. what’s worse is it hurts when you swallow, you feel a slight throbbing in your head, and you feel sluggish. you think that you might be sick. just in time, your alarm clock screams. a slam of your hand shuts it up: shut up, im already up. you force yourself out of bed and opt for a quick shower– grabbing your towel and necessities, you walk to your bathroom. thanks to your shampoo and soap, you manage to smell like lavender and vanilla; a scent youve always adored.

stripping your clothes, you step under the showerhead and turn it on– letting the cold water hit your somehow hot body. im gonna run a fever, arent i. you grumble in irritation, but you focus on the water hitting you, pondering about your interaction with sevika. now that you think about it, its been a couple of days since her last visit. a single question runs into your mind: maybe i should go to zaun again, it is my day-off. 

youve made up your mind, you’ll explore the city. 

laying out clothes on your bed, picking your choice of outfit; black cargo pants paired with black shirt, layered with a coat, and black boots– cant forget your trusty dagger. you check your watch and you figure you’d be there in a couple of minutes. with one final look at yourself in the mirror, you head out.

the bustling city fills all your senses, i probably wont get used to this. this time, you fully take in zaun– kids playing on the streets, drunkards already drinking, elders talking to each other, everyone seems lively today you thought. putting your hands in your pockets, you turn into an alleyway. markus was right, curiosity will get you killed. while walking, you see a child crying in his grandmother's arms and of course, you being a nosy woman, listened to them.

“but grandma,” he wails out, “i really love that radio. why’d they have to destroy it?”

his grandma rubs his head comfortingly, “hush now, ill buy you a new one.”

      you know that look in her eyes, that guilt and regret swimming in her eyes: she wont be able to buy one. look, you werent always a piltie, but that story can be told another time. absentmindedly, your feet bring you to them. you were only snapped back to reality when you hear her ask.

“what do you want? we dont have anything anymore.” the elder hisses out.

you raise your arms, “im not here to take anything, im here to see if i can fix your radio.”

what?

“what?”

this is what i get for being nosy, “i know a few things about ‘em.”

      but the twinkle in the boy’s eyes, his sniffles quieting down, and hugging his grandma tighter? you had to do something. 

“r-really?” he’s a timid little kid.

you slowly kneel beside them, “yeah, kid. ill try to fix it, cant promise you though.”

      you take a look around their house– its small and messy, considering theyre living in an alley, you cant judge. tools that you can use are tucked away in a box in the corner, thinking theyre good enough. seeing that youre eyeing them, the kid hurriedly brings you the box. thanking him, you carefully grab the radio; its old, and run-down, but it works. using a flathead, you disassemble it.

“its not broken, luckily.” you take a glance at the two, “the screws are loose, so you just have to tighten them again.”

      you turn it on once you assemble it back to its original form, a small smile creeps into your face as you hear static before hearing voices.

the grandma brings out her waller, “how much do i need to pa–”

“dont mind,” you stand up to interrupt her, “its my day off.”

her face shows gratitude but her eyes show seriousness, “dont give kindness here easily, kid.”

      your eyebrows furrow, confused by her comment. you could only offer them a nod before making your way deeper into the alleyway, relieved you could fix the radio. before turning, you hear the kid yell a thank you which makes you chuckle. but your victory is cut short when you hear a fight going on. your instincts turning on, you put your back against the wall and take a peek behind it.

its sevika. and shes not looking good. her arm isnt working, she’s outnumbered: she looks like she’s about to pass out. debating whether you should help, you watch for a few seconds. one man was about to punch her but you quickly jumped in to block it. her eyes met yours almost immediately, however, you ignored her and put yourself between her and them.

“you shouldnt be here, pretty little thing.” the middle guy snarled. 

you only stare at them, “i really dont give a fuck. like, at all.”

      guess that pissed him off because he quickly charges at you but you trip him and stepped aside to give him to sevika, seeing the vulnerable man heading her way, she quickly uses her right hand to punch him in the face. on the other side, you were dealing with two guys. one rushes to throw a fist but you evade by ducking and giving the other man a punch in the liver: a body shot, he crumbles down to his knees– giving you the chance to deal with the other. 

“lousy,” you comment, jabbing him and hitting his nose, “weak, unfocused, poor execution.”

      with every insult, you land hit after hit. he bares his yellow teeth at you while holding his bloody nose and mouth. you feel arms around your torso– throwing your lower body in the air and forcibly throwing yourself down, you make the clingy man stumble forward– hitting his buddy. your gaze goes back to sevika and you see her getting pinned to the wall. quickly grabbing your dagger, you make your way to them and slash the back of his knees, making him let go of her. sevika pants but lands a hit to his jaw– knocking him out cold.

you turn to look at the other two, only to see their back turned against you, already running away. cowards. hearing her groans and labored breathing, you turn around and help her up– putting her arm around your shoulder and trying to support her weight.

“i didnt need your help,” sevika grunts out.

you sneer back, “sure, sure. you look like you were winning actually.”

      she tries to escape your hold but right now, you are much stronger than her. you scold her and force her to hold onto you. 

“dont play with me right now, sevika. my head is already hurting,” you warn her.

sevika huffs out, “just this once. i have a safe house somewhere around here, its not far.”

      scared that she was gonna bleed out, you briskly walk, but still gently handling her. after a few minutes, you reach an abandoned building. she leads this time. this place is a goddamn maze, the smell of wood and cigarette brings you back to reality, the door to her safe house opening. 

you take in the sight, you snort at the messy place. she limps to sit on her couch, letting you close and lock the door. you rush to her to assess her injuries: bruises, cuts, and a wound that would probably need stitches.

“you got a kit?” you ask but youre already rummaging through her things.

she snorts, “bathroom, lower cabinet.”

      making a beeline for it, you hurriedly walk to her bathroom. seeing the kit, you let out a breath of relief and grab yourself a few ointments and a wet cloth. you go back to her and she looks like she’s really about to pass out. your voice wakes her up, making her stare at you.

“this is gonna sting,” you prepare the stitch to start.

she dismisses your comment with a wave of her bloody hand, “this is nothing.”

      only breaths and occasional groans from her fill the quiet room, giving your entire focus to finishing her stitch. snipping the thread, you move on to clean her wounds with the wet cloth you grabbed earlier– dabbing and rubbing the blood away, sevika lets the calming action take over her. too tired and worn out to complain. roughly twenty minutes pass and you finally reach her face; taking a moment to stare at her, your eyes roam from her eyebrows, down to her nose, and travel down to stare at her lips. 

“you done starin’ at me?” though her eyes are still closed, you figure she mightve felt your gaze.

warm cloth meets her skin, “wasnt staring at you, i was starin’ at your wounds, asshat.”

      she suddenly grabs you by the waist to pull you to her, your hands landing on her chest to steady yourself. 

“what are you doing.” red paints your ears.

she chuckles lowly, a sound that makes you want to rub your thighs together, “im only making it easier for you.”

“actually, this is harder for me,” you manage to blur out, “stupid.”

      you attempt to pull away but her hold only tightens around you. sevika finally opens her eyes to look at you and you realize: blood loss. 

she looks intently at you, slowly leaning in and putting her nose into your throat– inhaling your scent. you flush at this, the redness covering your entire face now. sevika drags her nose up to the side of your neck, finding your pulse; youre scared she’s gonna feel how fast its pulsing. your hand grips her bicep, feeling the muscle and how solid her body is. your eyes shut as her nose travels up your jaw, her lips just grazing your skin. 

“you shouldnt have come back here,” she whispers out.

      you didnt know it was possible to be closer to her but she grounded you on her crotch– making you straddle her. she pushed you down into her, emitting a throaty groan from her. you, on the other hand, are breathless, you cant think properly, your ears are ringing, and your hands are shaking. she kisses your jaw, resulting in you opening your eyes.

your hand that’s holding the cloth squeezes between the two of you and positions itself on her forehead to push her away. her head lolls back as she finally sleeps. Ignoring the fire in your abdomen, one thought crosses your mind: fuck, that did things to you. 

note: finally building tension

[amateurmasksmith]

Orbits Merging

A/N: Inspired by @radioactive-dazey <3

Warnings: none, they’re just stupid. (ok it’s more accurate to say they’re just scared to disturb the status quo, but anygay-)

“I- I don’t- know,” Virgil sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know.”

Logan hummed. “May I,” he asked, “take a figurative crack at it?”

Virgil nodded and gestured accedingly.

Logan shifted the blanket on his lap to free his hands, and adjusted his glasses. “My… feelings, are…”

He sighed slightly, and his eyes shifted - dancing through the middle distance, as if he might read a more objective answer written on Thomas’ blinds across from them.

“…Complex.” He settled on.

Logan sighed more heavily this time, dropping his gaze to the blanket the two of them shared.

“Apologies, this is…” he said, clearing his throat.

Virgil lightly elbowed him. “You’re good,” he said, “I don’t get… this, either.”

“It’s like-“ Logan started again, haltingly.

“Are you familiar with,” he concentrated a moment before conjuring a sheet of paper, “this memetic format?”

He passed the page to Virgil, which showed a speech bubble on the left, with the phrase “I love you” scrawled inside it - Pointing to a stylized outline of a human head on the right, which had the ‘gesturing at a conspiracy board’ meme pasted into it.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, that’s… yup.”

“It's… accurate,” Logan conceded, referring to the three-word phrase while fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “It accomplishes the intended purpose.”

“But,” he continued, “It’s nowhere near the actual, complex, thoughts and feelings I have for you.”

He stood up, dropping his side of the blanket, and began to pace the living room while gesturing. “And yet! And yet! Despite knowing this, I still have tremendous difficulty describing them - I can only make progress through their negatives!”

“…Negatives?” Virgil asked.

Logan turned, pausing his pacing to momentarily face him. “Or- or, opposites - by focusing on what they aren’t, rather than what they are.”

“Oh.” Virgil said, realizing. “Like, it’s definitely not… romantic-” They both made a sound of disgust.

“-But it’s…” Virgil trailed off.

Logan sat down gently. “…It’s not …quite your standard platonic either.”

He sighed. “In many ways, I am glad telepathy does not exist,” Logan stated. “But this would certainly be an exception.”

Virgil helped Logan re-cover himself with the blanket.

“Yeah, it’s… hard. Not being able to… fully express what you mean.” He said, scratching the back of his neck as he searched for the words. “There’s… always something, some idea, some nuance, left out - Just because… brains are…”

Virgil thought for a moment.

“Bigger on the inside.”

And he could see the gears turning, Logan’s expression lifting as his eyes lit up with understanding.

“Precisely!” Logan said with a genuine smile.

Virgil couldn’t help but feel warm, a smile of his own growing as he broke eye contact.

A comfortable silence settled over them.

A few minutes passed, and Virgil wondered if he should put on the movie.

He looked over, and was just about to ask, when he noticed Logan was fidgeting with the blanket while staring off into space, holding a subtly stiff posture.

Logan was nervous.

He was just about to ask what was wrong, when Logan zoned back in, and noticed Virgil staring.

“I- I’m sorry, I zoned out for a moment.” Logan said. “Did you need something, Virgil?”

“No! No, I-” he stuttered, taken aback by the sudden question. “You just seemed nervous… You ok?”

Logan looked away. “I… have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“But- I’m…” Logan paused.

Virgil put his hand on Logan’s arm encouragingly.

Logan continued, “I’m concerned…” He took a breath. “I’m… afraid… that asking will… interfere.”

“Interfere?”

“Like a quantum superposition. Observation… interferes.”

“You… and you don’t want to change things?” Virgil asked, barely daring to breathe.

Logan’s eyes were glued to the floor in front of them.

“It’s… complex,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t want change… it’s more so that… the possible game-states are… far too open for my liking.”

It was now Virgil’s turn to fidget. “It’s the uncertainty.” Virgil twisted his hoodie string around and over and through his fingers. “If you make the wrong move… it’s game over.”

”And yet,” Logan acknowledged, “you can’t stop playing.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled over them once more, though this one was more high-strung.

Each sat hyper aware of the other - Neither daring to move, neither daring to speak.

“I-“ “Do-“ they both started.

“Shit, sorry-” “No, no - Please, go ahead.”

Several beats.

Logan was looking at him.

Virgil’s breathing quickened as his mind raced for something, anything to say.

“DoyouknowwhataQPRis?” he blurted out before quickly shutting his mouth in surprise.

Logan blinked.

Virgil blinked.

Virgil began panicking internally.

“I-” Logan inhaled as if he’d forgotten to breathe, and summoned an index card with a familiar pink-and-yellow flag glued to the back.

He flipped it over to re-read the definition, and Virgil couldn’t help but notice how worn the card was.

“Yes, I- I do. I am familiar with the term.”

“C-cool. D’you-” he stuttered.

He cleared his throat. God, this was torture.

Virgil looked up as Logan wordlessly passed him the card.

“I- I know the definition, L, I-”

But then he read it.

In the margin, scribbled in a haphazard version of Logan’s usual neat handwriting:

‘Should tell Virgil??’

He looked back at Logan, and couldn’t help the grin that pushed its way up onto his face as the weight eased off of his chest.

“I- Yeah! God, yeah- I- I’d love to.”

Logan, for a moment, attempted to fight off his own smile - but shortly abandoned the effort, and returned Virgil’s grin.

“I… I am relieved,” Logan finally managed, posture comparatively much more relaxed.

Virgil scooted closer, and Logan leaned forward to allow him to put his arm behind his back in a couch-bound half-hug as the day’s fatigue finally set in.

Logan summoned the remote before asking Virgil, “While establishing boundaries in new relationships is very important, I-” he paused to yawn.

“Excuse me- Would it be alright with you if we postponed that discussion until tomorrow?” Logan stifled another yawn before continuing, “It’s been… an exhausting day.”

Virgil was leaning on Logan’s shoulder, already half-asleep - completely spent from the long day, and the emotional stress. He blinked slowly. “Yeah, that-” Virge yawned.

“Now you got me doing it,” he said. “Sorry, yeah, that sounds… it sounds good.”

“Excellent.”

Logan woke the television screen, and lowered the volume.

As he started the movie, he whispered over his shoulder, “I love you, Virge,” and leaned back against the couch.

A sleepy mumble returned, “Love you too, L.”

They both fell asleep before the opening credits finished.

[kazxraval]

Everyone's changed. His head bobbled a little before he looked down at the knuckles on his skin. A pointless denial died as a small and disagreeable sound in his throat. Instead, a hand cupped over Emre's knuckles. Only a few seconds granted to inspect those eyes, ones he'd swam reverently through before, as well as Emre's current expression. "You have." Yes, the man with blood on his collar was the one who'd changed, Kaz's opinion.

Kaz cracked a smile, with fingers playing across Emre's swan neck. "It's nice to want something. Isn't it? We can look forward to it." As thought his simple desire to fuck would send them spinning through the fabric of time to the island again. The trip to Seattle was such a disaster, maybe the delay returning home was just another part of the dumpster fire.

If things felt unsettled to Emre, to Kaz it was a reality that he paid no mind to. Wouldn't matter much. All he really needed was to get back to the island.

Emre smartly tended to the disabled boat, with an attempt at the dead radio, and ultimately turned the vessel into a beacon before it could sink beneath the water. While Kaz's brawl with Georgie was asshort-lived as her ability to fight. When he subdued her sharp claws and bites, he handed over the knife she nicked him with to Emre. Fucking hell, Kaz! "It's alright." Well, Georgie wasn't necessarily, but that wasn't so important.

Emre brought the situation into a keen focus. No rafts. No... dolphins. "Think it's a random boat? What if she somehow got a message out to her contacts." The radio on the ship had been checked. "Did it look like someone fucked with the radio?" Was it possible she reached her connection first, and then damaged the equipment?

Kaz held on to Emre's smile for a minute. His gaze didn't go over the railing but out to the lights fast approaching. "You want us to pirate a ship?" A payment. Bargaining chips. Georgie groaned, groggy. Either the injured boat they were on or Feroze echoed their pain in the background too, although Kaz could barely tell the difference between the them.

"What if we told them that Feroze and Georgie were hurt when the boat wrecked? And we ask them for help." Of course, whatever ruse Emre decided worked best would be the one they'd go with.

"Fuck, Emre. I don't know about this one. Don't like it." His head hurt, the muscles in his neck killed him. Every bone in his body felt the weight of the entire trip. "I don't like you going into this blind either." There weren't a lot of options.

"Yeah. Yeah. Grab Feroze. Actually -- if you can bring him up here. I can help you too. May be easier for the other boat to see them both, yeah?" Just outside the bridge, he deposited Georgie but kept alert in case she faked it again. "And I can try to get some of the crew on board the lower deck." Maybe. It was the shakiest plan ever dreamed up. In his experience, best to prepare to jump on opportunities instead.

He tipped his head towards the strap of the spear gun, with the weapon thrown over a shoulder again. "Yeah. I'm good. I don't understand how you're gonna get onboard though. Without anyone noticing." He flashed a small smile. "Stealthy bastard, I know. I shouldn't even ask, hm?"

Why wouldn't they want yours? Kaz took a pause to look at Emre. "I have no idea" After a quick scan from Emre's wrist back up to his face again, "Other than that stupid tattoo having a meaning we don't know about." And then he began to wonder. "Why don't they want me?" His tone impartial. "What are you trying to say." A beat. "Got one prime organ over here." He grabbed himself to illustrate the touch of bleak humor.

They made a quick sweep below deck, to check the current damage and for anything else that might assist them. When it was time for Emre to prepare, Kaz kissed him quick. Then he waited. Feroze, in plain view, was going no where. And Georgie. Never would've guessed it would come to Kaz using her to bargain with. But, he'd never met anyone like Emre either.

As the other ship drew nearer, Kaz waved it down. Indicated where the similarly sized boat should pull up alongside the broken one. Noted five people were in view on deck. None of them looked particularly friendly. "Careful, we've hit something," Kaz called out. "We're taking on water, but slowly." Fuck if Kaz knew the exact details, but he winged it.

A short but gruff looking white guy with a shock of unruly ginger hair stepped forward, the apparent spokesman for the crew. His eyes scanned the boat, and then Kaz. 'We can see that.' His squint hardened momentarily. 'Your boat clipped the edge of a reef. How the hell did you possibly do that?'

"Equipment failure," Kaz bullshitted. "I'm looking to get some help. Hoping we can cut a deal." How would he know when Emre made it on board. Why the hell did he agree to letting Emre do that?

Kaz was an expert at maintaining a flat expression in the worst of times. But he stayed alert. Hoped to see a sign of Emre in his peripheral. Would the men who stood behind their 'captain' suddenly go wide-eyed as Emre snapped their necks or dragged a knife across their throats?

'A deal?' The captain repeated. 'By the looks of your boat, you better talk fast.'

The organ trafficker story didn't seem to go well with Kaz, and Emre wasn't quite sure why. But then, Emre didn't know this Georgina the way Kaz did. Something didn't add up for Kaz; but Emre pointed out, "It's been years, man. Decades. And this new world order as well...everyone's changed, haven't they." Emre's knuckles made a crescent along Kaz's arm to signify: including you.

How thrilling, to blurt whimsical things and see Kaz's eyes minutely flare white and bright. A smile on his lips that Emre decided was just for him, only for him. Words returned so smooth and clever, Emre could've dropped trou right there, if there weren't the silly little matter of surviving. Emre tilted his head back and groaned, long and throaty. "Fucking teleports! Why isn't it pulling us back yet. Fuck you make me so hot at the most inappropriate times, you know that? You bastard."

Not that it was even good to just zip back home. Nothing was resolved, nothing tidily wrapped in a neat package for Kaz! Everything - from brief, confounding glimpse of Priti in the city, to Georgina's organ trafficking - it was all so fucking messy and raw. And Kaz here, grimly cauterising every new bleeding as they sprung. How much more of this could he handle with his usual brand of stoic dismissal? His capacity seemed unending. It wasn't even taking it in stride; Kaz had a knack for rendering these titular people from his past - Priti, Georgina - completely irrelevant.

Like nothing hurt him. Like they couldn't hurt him.

But Kaz was human, and his capacity to love...Emre had witnessed and felt that first hand. Kaz's capacity of feel was immense, a maelstrom, one Emre was eager to get swept away in.

Kaz brought Emre back to current, with a pitiless lecture at Feroze. "Sometimes you scare me, my luv," Emre gently murmured, stroking Kaz's back again as they moved past Feroze's chilling position. (A position that Emre had put him in but...in Emre's mind, that was different. Not scary per se, just essential.)

They got to Georgina, and she confirmed before Emre could. He dashed to the captain to inspect but. Damn. Emre had intended to just incapacitate the man, but he'd botched it, and the wanker bled out. Emre keenly listened to Kaz and Georgina yelling at each other. Unbothered by the row, but trying to understand their twisted past, how it had fermented over the years, and bubbled open now.

Emre slid over to the console, grunting in frustration that the radio was somehow destroyed. He found switches for the navigational lights and flicked them on, knowing that it might attract whomever was coming for them; but counting on it now. Stranded out here in the water in a sinking, smoking, screaming yacht, it seemed like their best chance. More fighting, more violence; Emre could manage, and Kaz? Kaz would throw himself into the fray without question, when he'd already been so poorly beaten. What choice did they have, though.

Didn't it always boil down to that in the end?

A roar from behind Emre, and he turned in time to see Georgina free of her binds, leaping at Kaz. The struggle was tight and difficult for Emre to get a hand in - every time he tried to grab a fistful of Georgina's hair, she flipped aside. But Kaz solved it with his trusty fucking spear-gun - metal met flesh, and Georgina was down for the count. Kaz up on his feet in a flash, hauling Georgina up like a sack of potatoes. "Fucking hell, Kaz! Fuck! Fuck..."

Emre was shaking his head again at all of Kaz's questions. "No man. No life rafts. If we jump in the water, we won't survive." The water was freezing cold when Emre fell in, he could just imagine it now. "No dolphins coming for us this time. Kaz - " Emre turned to look at him. "Whoever's coming for us, their boat is our best chance, yeah?

Emre nodded to Georgina's deadweight. "And she's our bargaining chip. Fucking hell, someone in this fucking wasteland has got to hold some value to the others...! No offense, darling." A smile returned, but nothing felt as warm and melty-sweet, as Kaz's smile to him; nothing. "I'm sure Seattle was lovely. I would've loved to take the Urmilla tour."

It seemed there were boat lights in the distance, coming closer. Emre looked over the railing at Feroze. "Do you reckon he might have any value too? I'll fetch him."

Emre started down the ladder, his knives tucked into his waistband, A glance up at Kaz. "Still got your spear, yeah? When the other boat gets close, you greet them with Georgina and Feroze, stall them? I'll try and get on the boat and...." Emre licked his lips, thinking about Georgina's threats. They were coming for Emre, she said. Why not for Kaz's youthful organs too? What did Georgina know about Kaz? Or did she just want to keep Kaz for herself, like a prize or a pet?

"Well. They're not good people, are they? If they want my guts, I'll hand them their own." Ad then, Emre couldn't help but point out: "Why wouldn't they want yours?"