#both are about to have one hell of a night...

[straylightdream]

touching yourself

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: actor!yoon jeonghan x afb.reader

what happens when he finally achieves his dream and it isn’t what he thought it would be?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, romance, comfort, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): actor/celeb au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.7k

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: depression, anxiety, jeonghan is really going through it, severe stress from a job, alcohol consumption, crying, lots of emotions, mentions menstrual cycles

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: phone sex (multiple scenes) mutal masturbation, needy jeonghan, switch jeonghan, hand job, fingering, oral (both rec), sex via FaceTime, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, thumb sucking (Jeonghan rec), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, nicknames: honey, baby (hers) Hannie, baby (his)

𝐚𝐧: this story is directly connected with @gotta-winwin’s Joshua story “typo and error”. This is part of the that’s showbiz, baby! collaboration. Please show the other writers love and support. Thank you so much @lovetaroandtaemin for this wonderful banner. Thank you @studioeisa for helping me navigate and beta reading this.

🎧: touching yourself - japanese house | no shame - 5 seconds of summer | like i need u - keshi

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

This is everything he has ever wanted, he repeats to himself over and over. Standing in a hotel bathroom. Today was hell. After shooting for fourteen hours he’s not sure if he wants to punch the wall or go to sleep. He’s absolutely physically and mentally exhausted.

Splashing water on his face he takes a long deep breath. Growing up this was all he ever wanted. All throughout high school and college he was in all the theater productions he could possibly join. Being an actor has always been his dream. So why is he absolutely miserable? This his second show he's filmed and this one just seems so much harder.

hannie: are you awake?

honey: you know for a big time actor that text really gives frat boy energy.

hannie: it’s not a booty call text.

honey: then what would you call it mr. superstar?

hannie: it’s more of ‘I’m lonely and need a friend to remind me why I do this.

There isn’t even time to set down his phone before it starts ringing. The nickname “honey” he gave you back in college appears on his phone with a photo of him with his arms wrapped around you pops up.

“Hello,” his voice is low. He sounds like he’s on the verge of crying.

“Hannie, what’s wrong?” His mind feels like it’s a million places at once. With his back resting against the wall he slowly slides down. His butt hitting the white marble flooring. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he pushes his finger through his long hair. “I don’t like that you’re not saying anything.”

“I wanna go home,” he whispers.

“You’re almost done filming. You have only seven days after this.”

“This show is so much harder than the last one.” Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath desperately trying not to cry.

“Hannie-“

“What time is it where you are?” He needs to change the subject. He doesn’t want to think about this show or how long he’s stuck here.

“It’s three in the morning.” He can tell you sound sleepy. He shouldn’t have woken you up.

“I shouldn’t have texted you.”

“Hannie, I told you when you left I was here no matter what time.” The night before he left he stayed at your place. He stayed up all night telling you how stressed he was about filming this movie. “What are you doing?” Your voice sounds so soothing to him.

“Sitting on the bathroom floor trying not to have a breakdown.”

“What time is it where you are?”

“It’s midnight.”

“Are you dressed for bed?”

“I was going to take a shower so I’m just in my boxers.” Leaning his head back against the wall he takes another deep breath. “I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there with you.”

“I always said this was my dream. Why am I miserable?” A salty tear slides down his cheek.

“It’s harder than you thought it was going to be, and that’s okay. Things will get easier.”

“If I buy you a ticket, will you fly out here in the morning?” He knows this is a crazy request but he needs to see you.

“Hannie.”

“I know it’s insane to ask. Your job lets you work from home. Maybe bring your work computer and you could work from the hotel room.”

“A plane ticket at the last minute is expensive.”

“Baby, I don’t fucking care. I need you here with me.” He’s never called you baby before. And for some reason it just feels right to call you that. Maybe it stems from the fact that he’s always wanted you to be his.

“Okay–“ you practically whisper into the phone.

“I'm gonna hang up literally long enough to book you the first flight I can get you on tomorrow and then I’m going to call you back.” Reaching up he pushes away the tears that have stained his cheeks.

“Okay. I’ll start packing now. I’ll send an email to my boss and put in for some PTO for tomorrow when I travel. Maybe take a shower and call me once you’re in bed.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon, honey.”

The phone call ends and he pushes himself off the floor. He leaves the bathroom and grabs his laptop. Wasting no time, he booked you a flight for eleven in the morning. He emailed all your flight information to you.

Walking back into the bathroom, he strips off his boxers and steps into the hot water. Just knowing you’ll be with him in a little over twelve hours is a relief. Leaning against the cool marble wall as the hot water washes over him.

Hopping out of the shower he towel tries his hair and wraps a towel around his waist. He doesn’t bother getting dressed, he just lays in the king size bed still in a towel.

It’s been about forty minutes since he hung up the phone. Picking up his phone he goes into his favorites and clicks your contact info that’s listed first. On the fourth ring you answer the phone.

“Hannie, I got your email.”

“Thank you for doing this.”

“Hannie, I just wanna see you happy.”

“Honey, you make me happy.” It’s true. He doesn’t think anyone has ever made him as happy as you do. “Do you mind that we’ll have to share a bed? Or I could book you your own room?”

“I don’t mind sharing a bed. I might ask you to cuddle since I’m flying to a different country for you.” The sound of your soft laugh makes him smile.

“I’ll never complain about cuddling.”

“Did you get dressed for bed?” You asked. He glances down at his towel that is still wrapped around his waist.

“No.”

“Hannie, what are you wearing?” Your voice sounds a little more upbeat.

“Just a towel.” He hears movement and assumes you’re laying back down in bed.

“I didn’t expect you to basically be naked on the phone with me.” A soft laugh echoes into the phone. Jeonghan can’t help but smile.

“Am I allowed to ask what you are wearing?”

“I don’t know if you will like my answer.” You have definitely piqued his interest. He just lets out a hum. “I’m wearing your baggy shirt you left at my house and panties.”

Glancing down at the towel Jeonghan can feel himself starting to harden. “Do you normally sleep in my clothes?”

“When did you leave your shirt here? It started when I found it.”

“Like two months ago?” His fingers start to toy with the edge of the towel. “I like that you sleep in my shirt.”

“What are we doing here, Jeonghan?” It sounds weird you calling him his full name. Since you became friends in college he’s called you honey instead of your name and you call him Hannie.

“I’m not sure. But I like whatever this is.” He can’t help but sigh leaning further back on the pillows. “We can stop right here if you want. We can hang up the phone and pretend this never happened.”

“I don’t want that,” your voice is so soft.

“What do you want to happen?” He swallows loudly.

“Will you take off your towel?” You're both crossing a line you won’t be able to go back from.

He puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the bed next to him. Undoing the towel he lifts his hips and tosses the towel to the foot of the bed. Evening being alone on the bed he feels suddenly very exposed. Taking a deep breath he drags his fingers down his stomach. “Can you take your panties off but, leave on my shirt?”

“Of course.”

“This isn’t the first time I’m touching myself to the thought of you.” This is the first time when he cums thinking of you he won’t feel guilty.

“I think about you often.” You sigh.

He starts fully hardening in his hand as he pictures you touching yourself. He focuses on the tip spreading the precum that’s started leaking. A low moan passes his lips.

“I bet your cock is pretty,” you moan.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I’m already so wet. I get wet just thinking about you.”

Closing his eyes he imagines you laying next to him. His breathing is already unsteady. “I bet your pussy tastes sweet just like you.”

“You’ve never even kissed me, Hannie,” you tease.

“When you get here tomorrow, I’m going to kiss you like I need you to breathe. And once we’re alone I’m going to strip you naked and devour every inch of you. I’m going to eat your pretty pussy like it’s my last meal on this fucking planet.”

“Hannie–“ you don’t even try to hold back your broken moans. He tightens his grip on his painfully hard cock. “I’m playing with my clit but it’s not enough. I feel empty,” you whimper.

“Baby, do you have any toys you can fill your little pussy with?”

“I have a dildo-“ you sound so shy suddenly.

“Can you use it? Pretend that it’s me filling you up.”

There is a moment of silence before Jeonghan hears a squelching noise. Your moans echo through the phone. “Fuck- Hannie-“

Biting his bottom lip he fights back moaning too loud. His hand continues to pump his length. He’s not going to last long and he knows it. “Baby, go as fast as you can handle.”

“Can you go fast too? Imagine I’m riding you.”

His imagination goes wild picturing you on top of him riding him.

The phone call is filled with the sounds of moans and whimpers. Jeonghan brings his finger towards his chest. His long index finger slowly toys with his nipple as he gets closer to the edge.

“I’m close—“ he can’t wait to hear how you sound as you fall apart.

“I’m going to cum—“ he responds.

“Hannie—“ you moan as you find your release.

“Honey—“ he moans, painting his hand and stomach with thick ropes of his milky release. “Fuck-“

There’s a few beats of silence as you both ride out your highs. “Did you still want me to come see you?”

“Of course I do, baby.”

“We should both probably get to sleep. I’ll probably arrive while you’re on set.”

“I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up from the airport and the front desk will have a key ready for you.”

“Okay. What happened to your text wasn’t a booty call?” You let out a little laugh.

“It wasn’t planned to be. I just really wanted to hear your voice. I missed you.”

“I always miss you. Goodnight Hannie.”

“Goodnight honey.”

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The whole time Jeonghan is on set he can only really think about you. He lights up when he receives a text from you.

honey: I just got to the hotel.

hannie: the front desk has a room key for you. please let me know when you get inside.

honey: I just got in. Omg this bathroom is huge.

hannie: my mental breakdown started in that bathroom.

honey: I don’t want you to stress anymore. I’m here now.

hannie. I think we’re wrapping my scenes in an hour.

honey: how does you arriving back to the room and finding me naked in the bath sound?

hannie: amazing. I’m now going to try my best to not get hard on set.

honey: just one more hour and you can do anything you have ever wanted to me.

hannie: I should say this in person, but I’m a little scared. We can’t go back after this. I want you so badly I can’t just be your friend.

honey: that’s good. I don’t want to be friends anymore. I want to try to be more.

hannie: please be naked when I get back.

The moment that cut was called on his scenes his assistant was following him as he practically ran to his trailer.

“Jeonghan, you have an interview scheduled for tomorrow at 10am. It’s going to be in the conference room of your hotel.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Jeonghan goes to grab his clothes hoping to get out of this costume quickly.

“I’m assuming since you have company you won’t need my assistance with anything tonight?” His assistant sounds hopeful they might fully get the night off.

“Ben, I don't need you tonight. Can you just have a car ready to pick me up in ten minutes? And just make sure you’re there before my interview tomorrow.”

“Okay, Jeonghan. Have fun with your friend.��� Ben pats him on the back before exiting the trailer.

Jeonghan doesn’t think he's ever left a set faster in his life. Getting into the car he’s checking emails trying to keep himself distracted. That’s until a new message from you pops up.

honey: are you on your way?

hannie: I should be there in ten minutes.

honey: I’ll start the bath now.

Walking into the hotel room, he shuts the door and locks. The moment he enters the bathroom his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you naked sitting in the large bathtub.

“Hi, Hannie.” You give him a soft smile.

“Hi, Honey.” Without another thought he instantly starts removing his clothes. The moment he is fully naked he joins you in the bath. He sits opposite of you with his legs on either side of yours. Just the sight of your breast just below the water has him hardening.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

He takes a deep breath trying his hardest to calm down. “God, I have missed you.”

Reaching out you start to draw aimless circles on his knee. He can’t help but smile as he watches you. “Hannie, you’re not going to give up on acting right?”

“No. I was just lonely and stressed.”

“I don’t want you to be lonely anymore. I’m always here for you. You can call me anytime at night or day. We can just talk or we could have more phone sex.” Your ending comment earned a smile from him. If someone would have told him that when he left to film this series you and him would be here now. He would have told them they were crazy.

“You still haven’t kissed me?”

“Come here.” Leaning forward you both meet in the middle. Reaching out, he rested his hand on your cheek. “You’re so pretty.” God, he could spend hours just admiring you.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” He instantly smiles at your sweet words.

The moment your lips finally touch he feels a sense of warmth take over him. His hands hold your face as his lips move against your. You feel like a breath of fresh air in his oxygen deprived lungs. How on earth has he gone his whole life, not knowing how you taste.

His stomach is filled with butterflies just like it always is when he’s around you. Even back in the day when you were freshly eighteen. From the moment he met you Jeonghan knew you were going to be special to him.

Pulling away you rest your nose against his. “This feels so right.”

Leaning back, you close your eyes and smile. How did he ever get so luckily to have you in his life? You feel like sunshine on a rainy day.

“How long can you last in this bath without properly touching me?” You’ve always loved to tease him.

“Maybe two more minutes.”

Without saying a word you stand up. Getting out of the tub you walk naked across the bathroom. Grabbing a towel you slowly start drying off. Jeonghan’s eyes are locked on your body. Snapping out of his lust filled haze he gets out and grabs a towel. Silently you both stand there drying off.

“I think it’s time you fuck away all your frustrations.” Walking towards the door you hold out your hand. Workout saying a word he laces his fingers with you.

Taking your hand he pulls you towards the bed. “Do I need to get us condoms?” He realizes he definitely doesn’t have any in this room, and he didn’t ask you to bring any.

“I’m on birth control. Remember you took me to my appointment to get my IUD?” Oh, he remembers that vividly. You got it because your ex wanted to stop using condoms and Jeonghan was trying his hardest to be supportive. But the idea of that loser getting to fuck you completely raw had him seeing red.

You stand at the foot of the bed. You push your fingers through his dark hair. You can’t help but admire how pretty he is.

“I don’t want to assume anything.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, when was the last time you had sex with someone that isn’t your hand?” It’s embarrassing that you know too many details about his sex life, or better yet lack thereof.

“It’s probably been a year. I’m so busy with work.” Unfortunately his hand has been his best friend when it comes to finding any sort of release these days.

“I’m clean, I got tested after Jay and I ended things six months ago. I haven’t had sex with anyone other than my toys and my hand. Jeonghan, if you want to do this, we can. I trust you more than anyone I have ever been with before. Hell, I care about you more than anyone else.”

He definitely loves you, even though he wouldn’t be bold and say those words right now. He most definitely trusts you as well. Going bare the very first time you have sex means a lot.

“Are you sure?” You release his hand and take a small step back.

“If you don’t want to go bare Jeonghan, we can get condoms. I’m just giving you the option.”

“God, I want to feel you completely bare.” He pushes his finger through his hair. He feels like he’s going to go insane if he can’t be inside you. “Lay on the bed, honey.”

Crawling onto the bed Jeonghan watches you. “Spread your legs, baby. I believe I made a promise that I want to eat you out.”

The moment his head is between your legs he eats your pussy like he’s a man starved. Your finger tangled in his hair holding him close. He practically makes out with your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

He never tasted anything sweeter as he felt you fall apart against his tongue.

The moment he’s hovering over you staring into your eyes as he pushes into you for the first time he realizes this is what it feels like to feel whole. That empty feeling in his chest no longer existed. Your hands claw at his back holding him close. His lips touch anywhere they can reach. His pace starts out slow but deep.

Your moans and whimpers echo off the walls. You move his face so he’s looking down at you. Running your thumb across his bottom lip he opens his mouth. Slowly you slide your thumb in, pressing down on his tongue. He’s lost in a haze of lust.

“So good for me,” you moan.

Pulling your thumb out of his mouth he smiles down at you. “Did you like that?”

“Fuck—“

Reaching down he moves your leg so it’s resting on his hip. “Faster.” You plead.

His pace picks up and the moment he feels your orgasm hit you hard he practically sees stars himself. He’s never come nearly as hard as he did right then. His salty release paints your walls milky white. Sitting back on his knees he’s still snug inside you. The sight of you squeezing him is something he’ll ever get over. Ever so slowly he pulls out. Watching as his release slowly leaks out in a glob. Without even thinking he runs his fingers through your folds pushing it back in.

“Fuck—“

“Is that all you can say?” You can’t help but tease him.

“You might have broken my brain.”

Hopping off the bed he runs off to the bathroom in all his naked glory. He comes back holding a warm washcloth. He gently wipes away the mess he made.

Crawling back into bed he pulls you close. He hopes he can do this with you forever.

As your head lays on his chest he can’t help but think about what happens next between you. All he knows is being able to properly hold you feels perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s another long day for Jeonghan. He spent the morning doing interviews, and now he’s on set for three hours filming. He’s fully focused on work, but there is a little thought in the back of his mind that is reminding you’re waiting for him at his hotel room.

Once he’s finally back in the hotel for the night he finds you lying in the bed dressed in nothing but one of his baggy shirts and cute little thong. You're focused on watching something on your phone. You don’t even notice he’s back, until he clears his throat.

Laying your phone on the nightstand you smile at him. “Hi, Hannie.”

“Hi, honey.”

“How does ordering room service and cuddling sound?”

“Perfect.”

That night was perfect for him. He told you about his day on set while you shared a pizza. You turned on some romantic comedy you had been telling him about. He doesn’t really pay attention to the movie. He’s too focused on the way you’re curled up against him. He doesn’t feel as lost knowing he has you by his side.

The movie finally comes to an end and at that point the only thing either of you can focus on is each other.

Laying on your stomach, Jeonghan has a pillow under your hips. He’s pressed up against your back. Your thong has been pulled to the side as he slowly thrust into you. This new angle has him hitting spots he hasn’t hit before. He’s kissing his way across your shoulders moaning sweet praises against your skin.

You fall apart together before you both drift off to sleep.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s been two weeks since you flew out to meet him on set. You haven’t fully labeled your relationship, but you’re clearly together. At this point, you’re apart more than you’re together. Phone sex has become a staple of your relationship.

A part of being famous that Jeonghan hated was he had to hide parts of his private life. His one goal was to keep you away from the public eye. He refused to watch you get hate or to hear that people are spreading gossip and lies about you.

Laying down in another hotel room, his mind wanders to you just like it always does. Closing his eyes, he pictures you.

hannie: are you awake?

honey: that sounds like a booty call text.

hannie: I miss you.

honey: do you miss me or just my pussy?

hannie: I miss everything about you.

honey: did you want to talk on the phone?

hannie: please.

Two seconds later the phone rings. This time, your contact photo is a picture of him kissing you.

“Hi, Hannie.” Your voice is as sweet as honey.

“Hi, baby.”

“What are you wearing?” You instantly ask.

“I’m laying here in boxers. What are you wearing?” He’s already starting to get hard at just the sound of your voice.

“A tank top and thong.” His brain instantly starts picturing you.

“Can you get naked for me?”

“Of course.” He hears the sound of rustling of fabric. He takes this as his opportunity to remove his boxers. “Should I get one of my toys?”

“Do you have a vibrator you can use?”

“Yes.”

He starts stroking his length thinking about your naked body on display. The buzzing sound lets him know you have found your vibrator.

“Fuck— Hannie—“

He starts pumping his length faster. Before you Jeonghan has probably had phone sex once before. Now he can’t get enough of it. The idea that you’re on the other side touching yourself to his voice is intoxicating.

“Baby, can you pump two fingers in you?”

“Yes,” your voice is needy and high pitched.

“I wish this was you touching me.” He focused on his sensitive head knowing that it would easily push him over the edge.

“Do you miss my mouth or my pussy?”

“I miss everything about you.”

He misses being able to touch. The moment he’s home, he doesn’t think he’ll let you out of his sight.

“I need more.” You whimper.

“Add another finger.” Just the thought of you naked in bed has him close to falling apart.

He focuses on sensitive tip, knowing he’ll fall apart with little effort.

“Honey—“

“I’m so close—“ You’re a whimpering mess.

“Hold the vibrator against your clit baby.”

He moves his hand up and down his hardened length. His orgasm is getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Hannie—“

“Cum for me baby.”

“Fuck—“ your voice is a high pitch whine. Falling apart on your fingers is not the same as being filled with Jeonghan’s length.

His breathing is uneven, practically ragged. Salty cum paints his hand and stomach milky white.

“God, I miss you.” He pants.

“I miss you too, baby.” He can’t help but smile at your response.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s been three weeks since he’s been home from set and in that time he’s been taking every opportunity he has to spend it with you.

Many days have consisted of you staying at Jeonghan place. You’ve brought your laptop and you have been working from Jeonghan’s kitchen. He takes this time to just enjoy your company and spend as much time as possible with you.

Today, you had to go into the office and Jeonghan had a meeting he didn’t want to attend.

Jeonghan hates the days he has to go into the office. Sitting in the conference room he’s listening as Wonwoo the CEO, Seungcheol the talent recruiter, are talking about a new star that has signed on. He’s not even sure why he needs to be here for this.

A heavy sigh passes his lips earning a glance from Junhui, the legal intern who is sitting next to Wonwoo.

“Jeonghan, we need to talk about your press tour. You need to start soon,” Wonwoo says.

“My show wrapped last month.” The idea of doing press makes him want to scream. His goal for right now was to just spend time with you.

“Well, we think it’s a good idea to do a few interviews talking about upcoming projects.” Joshua chimes in. “It will be good for your social media presence.”

“What upcoming projects?” He instantly sighs, leaning back.

“We have another role we want you to start filming next month. It’s a romantic drama. The new actress we booked will be starring with you.” He was hoping to get a longer break between projects. The idea of filming a romance isn’t his favorite idea right now.

“I didn’t know I booked another role.” So much for the break he thought he was getting.

“We have one more thing to discuss,” Jihoon the head of HR chimes in. Jeonghan instantly has a sinking feeling. He has an idea about what they’re going to bring up.

“What is it?” He sighs, pushing his finger through his hair.

“We’ve heard you’re in a relationship.” Jihoon says.

“Nothing in my contract says I can’t date,” Jeonghan glances over at Junhui. If anyone in this room fully understands his contract, it’s Junhui.

“We aren’t telling you you’re not allowed to date. We’re just asking that you don’t go making this relationship social media official. For the company’s sake and for the press of your upcoming movies, we’re asking you to keep your relationship private.”

“My goal is to keep my relationship private. I don’t want the public bugging her.”

“Filming a romance series, people will probably link you with your co-star. I wouldn’t exactly deny you’re not together but don’t confirm it.” The idea of a showmance made Jeonghan feel sick. It almost feels as if he’s cheating on you. “I can tell by your face you made you hate that idea,” Wonwoo says. He instantly notices that Joshua seems quite irritated suddenly. Maybe this has something to do with the new girl he’s been working social media for.

“When do I start filming this?” Jeonghan has grown tired of this meeting and just wants to go home.

“You leave for Jeju in three weeks.” Soonyoung the head of marketing chimes in.

“Okay.”

He thought after finishing this last project he would be happier with his career choice, but he’s still sad. Maybe that’s because he knows it means he’s going to be lonely once again. Maybe going away will feel different this time knowing that he has you. Maybe you’re the change he truly needed in his life.

Standing in the elevator, he decides to text you. He’s hoping he can see you tonight.

hannie: are you busy tonight?

honey: I’m finishing a work project and I’ll be free after five.

hannie: sleepover?

honey: your place or mine?

hannie: mine. I’ll order your favorite thai place for takeout.

honey: oh look you truly know the way to my heart.

hannie: thai food is the way to your heart? Not my amazing head game?

honey: that’s the other way to my heart lol

hannie: it’s good to know I know both ways to your heart.

honey: I got to go back to work but I’ll see you at 5 baby.

You calling him ‘baby’ will always give him butterflies.

When five twenty rolls around, you let yourself into his apartment. From the moment he moved in here, he gave you the code to the pin pad. He made the choice to make the code your birthday.

He smiles at the sight of you dressed in a pair of leggings and baggy shirt. The shirt looks extremely familiar. At some point you’ve definitely stolen it from him. He realized you had stolen more of his clothes then he noticed you had.

“Hannie, if you planned on getting laid tonight, I’m on my period.” Walking over you sit on the couch next to him.

“I didn’t call you over just for sex. I like spending time with you.”

“Okay.” You give him a soft smile.

“My period sucks. I’m extra emotional and I’m horny.”

“Well, if you want to have sex I have no problem doing it. We can fuck in the shower or put towels down.” Jeonghan isn’t disgusted at all at the thought of period sex. If it’s something you’re comfortable with he would do it.

“Can we just cuddle tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

Things have always been so easy with you. Jeonghan can truly feel like himself. He’s not an actor that people desperately want to get to know. He’s simply just Jeonghan, or better yet he’s your Hannie.

Curled up in bed he loves that you’re dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of panties. There is something about you wearing his clothes that he loves. Since college, he’s called you a clothing thief, but he’ll never complain. He always smiles when he sees you wearing one of his baggy shirts.

“Honey?” He’s laying on his back, your head is resting on his chest. He’s slowly running his fingers up your spine, tracing the details of your skin.

“Yes?”

“You’re my best friend.” He nuzzles his face in your hair. The sweet scent of your mango shampoo, that reminds him of warm summer days.

“Are you friendzoning me?” You knit your eyebrows together confused by what he means.

“I’m hopelessly in love with you.” There is a long moment neither of you say anything. Your hand rests over his heart. Closing your eyes, tears slowly slide down your cheek. “Baby, are you crying?”

“I have loved you for so long.” You can’t even look at him. You just nuzzle your face against his bare chest.

“Honey, I’ve loved you for years and I will love you forever.” Slowly you finally look up at him with glossy eyes. He gently rests his fingers under your chin. ”I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Being with you made everything feel like it’s falling into place.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Filming this new romantic drama has been going fine. He’s a lot happier than he was during the last series he filmed. He knows his new relationship with you has helped with that lonely feeling that just kept eating away at him. There is something nice about knowing he can just text you telling you he loves you. Or just being able to call you and say he wants to hear your voice.

This shoot has been a whole different experience for him. Well, there has been one issue though. Jeonghan has grown to have a nice friendship with Vi, his romantic lead in the series. From the beginning he told her all about his relationship with you. Vi has been a great sense of support on the set. A few times the two of them have gotten dinner together with some of the other crew.

From the first day on set it’s been very clear that him and Vi are only friends. She often even asks about your relationship. All the crew knows he’s taken, but for some reason Joshua doesn’t seem to understand that. Jeonghan learned immediately after seeing his new costar interact with her social media manager something was up. Joshua is clearly not the actor of the two of them. That man for the life of him couldn’t hide his feelings for Vi. Joshua wasn’t able to hide his hatred towards Jeonghan either. Whenever he and Vi would film a kiss scene Jeonghan could feel Joshua’s hatred radiating off him.

It’s another day on set that has been absolutely exhausting. Jeonghan can feel Joshua’s eyes burning into him. This day on set is long enough and the scenes Jeonghan has been filming are emotionally draining. He looks over Vi and she seems completely oblivious to Joshua glaring.

“Hey, can we talk?” He taps her shoulder.

“Sure.”

“Can you tell Joshua to get his shit together? Joshua is clearly in love with you and he’s really starting to piss me off with the dirty looks.” Jeonghan is already miserable wishing you were here with him. The last thing he needs is a grown ass man pissed at him because of another woman.

“What?”

“Vi, please don’t play dumb right now. Joshua Hong, your little social media boy, is obsessed and in love with you.” He paused for a moment. “And don’t get me wrong you’re great but I think everyone on this set knows I’m in love with _ _ _ _.”

Vi lets out a soft laugh and looks over at Joshua who’s eyes soften the moment he stares at her. “Is it obvious he loves me?”

“Yeah, and please make it obvious to him neither of us are interested in each other.”

He watches as Violet walls off towards Joshua.

Heading off to his trailer he can’t stop thinking about you. He opens his phone and instantly goes to text you.

hannie: are you working?

honey: yeah but I can text you right.

hannie: I hate Joshua.

honey: what did he do now?

hannie: all he does is give me dirty looks and I’m tired of his lovesick idiot act. all he does is bitch and moan when I’m around.

honey: have you told violet?

hannie: I told her he’s clearly in love with her and I’m with you so she needs to tell him to knock it off.

honey: he’s probably not a fan of watching the girl he’s in love with kiss someone else.

hannie: I’m not a fan of having to kiss the girl he’s in love with. Are you okay with me having kissing scenes?

honey: I knew what I signed up for when we started this. It’s a part of your job.

hannie: can I call you tonight?

honey: of course. I should be home around 8. When do you stop filming?

hannie: I think the call sheet says 10.

honey: I’ll be waiting for you.

-

Laying on the bed in his hotel room he stares at his lockscreen for a long moment. It’s a photo of the two of you together. He’s kissing your cheek and you have the biggest smile on your face. Opening his favorites contacts he presses your name.

“Hi, baby,” your voice is gentle.

“Hi honey girl.” He puts the phone on speaker, setting it on the bed next to him.

“You’ve called me that since we were eighteen but you never told me why.”

He can’t help but smile thinking back to when you were both eighteen. He stands up and pulls his shirt off. “Because from the moment I met you I thought you were sweet as honey.”

“Am I still sweet as honey?”

“You’ve only gotten sweeter.” He unbuckles his belt.

“Do I taste as sweet as honey?” Your voice sounds intoxicating as you ask this.

“You taste sweeter than you could ever imagine.” He starts to push down his pants.

“Hannie, are you changing?”

“I’m in my boxers.”

“Can you get naked for me?” You sigh.

“Absolutely.”

“Can we facetime?”

“Yeah we can baby. Can you get naked for me?” He desperately wanted to see you.

Slipping off his boxers, he stands fully naked. He’s already starting to harden at the thought of seeing you. Propping his phone up he switches the call to a video.

Suddenly, you appear on screen in all your naked glory.

Your fingers toy with your perk nipples. Your glossy bottom lip is captured between your teeth.

“Tell me what to do Hannie.”

Laying back on the bed he takes his length in his hand and slowly starts stroking himself.

“Baby, spread your legs for me.”

Silently, you follow his command. Your legs are spread wide with the camera angled perfectly to see your glistening folds.

“Play with your sensitive clit.”

His eyes stay focused on the screen watching as your finding makes quick circles on your puffy clit. He keeps a steady pace pumping his cock. Your bottom lip is captured between your teeth, attempting to hold back moans.

He starts focusing on his blush colored tip that’s leaking precum. He doesn’t bother trying to hold back his broken moans of your name.

“Can you come from just playing with your clit?” He knows you can, but he wants to hear you respond.

“Yes—“

“Pretend it’s my fingers and come for my baby.”

He tightens his grip chasing his release. His eyes are lust blown, watching you through the screen. Tilting your head back, your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out his name. He can tell by your movements you’re cumming.

“Honey—“ he moans your name, painting his hand and abs with his milky release.

Both of your breathing is heavy. He can’t help but smile as a fucked our giggle passes your lips.

“You know, if you were here, I would make you take a shower with me.”

“I wish I was there to take a shower with you.” He looks down at his stomach that’s covered in a sticky layer of his cum.

“I can’t wait for this series to be done, and to have a break from seeing god forsaken Joshua Hong.”

You can’t help but laugh at his disdain for his co-star’s social media manager.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Filming is finally done and he’s just returned from a month of traveling promoting his newest project. Jeonghan can take a break and just spend time with you. He wants nothing more than to spend the week just lost in your presence.

He practically moved into your apartment. He wants to spend every waking moment with you.

He is sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee with you.

“I don’t think I want to film another romance series anytime soon.” He lets out a sigh, his fingers fidgeting with the lavender cup.

“I support whatever you want to do.” You give him a gentle smile.

“Can I ask you something that’s probably insane?”

“Yes, should I be scared?”

“No. You can work from home, right?” He knows this is a big ask.

“Yeah, I realistically only have to go into the office every couple months.”

“Would you travel with me to film my next series? It’s in five weeks and we will be staying in a beach town.” The idea of having you with him the whole time he’s filming sounds like a dream to him.

“Are you being serious?” You definitely weren’t expecting him to ask that.

“Yeah.”

“Is that what you want?” You look down at your own cup of coffee for a moment.

“I don’t feel as lonely as I did before. But I want you by my side the whole time.” He honestly wants you by his side for everything he does in life now.

“Then I’ll go with you.” A smile spreads across your lips.

“I love you, honey.”

“And I love you, Hannie.”

Jeonghan knew if he was going to pursue his dream sometimes it would be hard and there would be times he’s lonely. He knows now that no matter what you’ll be by his side. Whether you’re physically with him or you’re just a phone call away.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Filming his new series had been a dream knowing you were there with him. Every day after filming no matter how late it was he got to spend time with you. Some nights you would explore the beautiful beach town together and then other nights you would spend locked up in your hotel together, naked and exploring each other's bodies.

Jeonghan was the happiest he had ever been filming. After a long day on set he picked you up and took you to the beautiful restaurant his co-star told him about.

Hand in hand you walked near the beach after eating dinner. He can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

Pulling you in by the belt loops on your jeans his lips crash into yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you roll your body into yours pressing yourself against him. His tongue moves along your bottom lip, earning a sinful moan from you.

“Baby, we’re in public.” You tease him by pulling back.

“Then I need to take you home.” He smiles.

The moment you enter your hotel room he’s stripping off your clothes with a sense of urgency. There is a trail of fabric leading to the bed. Smack in the middle of the king size bed, you’re completely bare. He’s sitting on his knees thrusting into you at an incredibly slow but deep pace. One of your legs is hooked over his arm. While his other hand rests on your mound toying with your puffy clit. You’re already one orgasm deep, and he’s clear he’s working on pulling another one out of you.

Your fingers grip the expensive cotton sheets below you. Eyes roll back as the white hot wave of your second orgasm hits you hard.

“Hannie—“ His name is nothing more than a broken prayer.

“You’re made for me—“ he moans watching you with a look of wonder on his face.

“Please.” You aren’t even sure what you’re begging for. You aren’t sure your body could handle another orgasm, but you want more. His thumb never stops playing with your clit.

“Close—“ He lets out his own broken moan.

Your orgasm is barely finished when another hits you hard, this time triggering his own release. His hips slam into you at a quicker pace. His thick white release fills you to the brim. Pulling out slowly he watches as his release slowly leaks out.

Closing your eyes a fucked out smile plays across your lips. You look absolutely beautiful like this. To be honest, he thinks you look beautiful every moment of your life. He quite literally might be obsessed with how much he loves you.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Everything feels as if it’s collapsing in on him. Opening twitter, he didn’t expect to find photos of you and him spread across his timeline.

He’s hit with a wave of nausea at the nasty things being said about you. Random strangers are nitpicking every little detail about you. He hates that they know your name, and how “inside sources” are telling people you met in college.

The bathroom door opens. Looking up he can see by the look on your face something is wrong.

“Hannie—“ You sound upset and he already knows why. “Chaewon called and said photos of us are spreading all over online.”

“There is a photo of us kissing last night.” He tosses his phone on the bed. He knows this happened because he wasn’t careful. He hasn’t thought twice about going on public dates with you. He didn’t bother worrying about the fact that someone could have seen you kissing after dinner. This all happened because he was careless.

“We can figure this out.” You step closer to him.

“I think you should go back home.” The look of disappointment on your face feels like he’s being stabbed. He’s trying to protect you and all he’s doing is hurting you.

“Hannie—“ Tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“I think it’s best we aren’t spotted together anymore here.”

A laugh passes your lips. “This is so fucking stupid. Why does it matter if they know who I am?” He’s making you feel like he’s ashamed to be with you.

“I want what we have to be private.” He pushes his fingers through his dark hair. He starts pacing the hotel room anxiously.

“I’ll go home, but Jeonghan—this is the first time you’ve ever truly hurt me. I think we need to take a break. When you’re home and ready to talk you know where I am.”

He stops in his tracks. His heart feels like it’s being squeezed. A wave of nausea hits him like a ton of bricks. Without even trying, he’s broken your heart. He’s done the same things he’s seen too many men do to you. He swore to himself up and down he would never hurt you, and here he is asking you to go home.

“Honey—“

“I’m going to pack now. Can you book me a flight please?”

He sits on the bed booking you a flight, all while tears slid down your beautiful face as you packed your bag.

Three hours later a taxi takes you to the airport. He doesn’t get to kiss you goodbye, he doesn’t deserve to.

The moment the door shuts he lets himself finally break down. The hollow feeling in his chest is back.

There are two more weeks on set and this is going to be absolute hell.

The following days are filled with unanswered text from him. He knew you wouldn’t answer but he wished you would.

hannie: I’m sorry. I love you and miss you.

hannie: I shouldn’t have sent you home.

hannie: I hope you’re sleeping well.

The more time you were gone the harder filming felt for Jeonghan. Long stressful days left him sitting in his hotel room missing you. Any time anyone invited him out, he made excuses. The idea of having fun while you were home heartbroken made him feel sick.

hannie: one week left. I forgot how hard this is.

hannie: I’m sorry.

hannie: I love you.

hannie: I’m sorry. I messed up.

hannie: I’m coming home tomorrow. Can we please talk?

honey: yes.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Filming has wrapped, and the second Jeonghan’s plane landed he took a taxi to your place. Logically, he should have stopped by his apartment to drop off his luggage. All logical thoughts have left his head. The only thing he can possibly think about is getting to you. With his suitcases in tow he took the elevator up to your apartment. These last few weeks have been absolute hell. He never wants to go this long not being able to see you.

Walking up to your, door an anxious feeling is eating at him.

Normally he would put in the key code to enter, but that didn’t feel right. Knocking he patiently waits for you.

Moments later the door cracks open and there you are standing on the other side. A smile tugs on his lips at the sight of you. God he’s missed your beautiful face.

“Hi.” He awkwardly says giving you a little wave.

“Come in.” You step aside.

He wheels in his luggage. Leaving it by the white table by the door where you have always stored your keys and your purse. He kicks off his shoes. He stares at you for a long moment studying how you look. There isn’t the normal sparkle behind your eyes. You look sad, and he knows it’s because of him. Taking a deep breath he follows you over to the couch that sits under a big window that looks out into the city. He remembers the first time he made love to you on this couch after coming home from filming that series that changed everything between you. That was the first time he almost told you he loved you. Maybe if he would have been brave enough to admit it then things could have played out differently.

Sitting on the couch next to you, things feel weird. He hates that he caused this. In the years he has known you, things have never felt awkward.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says.

“Jeonghan, you hurt me.” You look down at your knees.

“I know. I was so scared that people online were going to hurt you with the cruel things they would say, that I carelessly hurt you—“ he paused. “I shouldn’t have sent you home. We could have gotten through this together.”

Reaching over you, you rest your hand on his knee. “We're a team, we can figure out this stuff together. This is all uncharted territory for us. But we can learn together.” You’ve always been the most level headed of the two of you.

“Please forgive me honey.”

“Promise me you’ll never hurt me like that again.”

He rested his hand on top of yours. “I won’t ever hurt you again. I love you so much.” He’s willing to do anything to prove to you that he’ll never hurt you again.

“I’m fine if people know who I am. I don’t care about what the internet thinks about me. I love you, Hannie, I don’t need them to love me. I just need to know that you’re always going to love me.” Your words earn a smile from him. Leaning over he rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’ve loved you since college and I will love you forever.”

“We can figure out how to navigate the world knowing who I am together.”

“I guess this means you can go to a red carpet event with me now. My company hasn’t bothered denying the photos or rumors.”

Pulling away from you, he looks into your warm eyes. Leaning forward pressing your lips to his for a gentle kiss.

“My company just said they don’t comment on my personal life.”

You can’t help but smile and press your lips to his again for another quick kiss. “I guess I can get red carpet ready.”

“We’re back together right?” He needed to know.

“Oh, Hannie, we were never broken up.”

“I’m so glad I fell in love with my best friend.”

“That’s good because I fell in love with my best friend.”

Things aren’t always going to be easy for Jeonghan, and being an actor isn’t exactly what he thought it would be. But he likes his job, and he’s glad he’s always going to have you by his side no matter what.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[sheepispink]

Simon knew married life was different, hell even living with another was. But he wasnt ready for the amount of compromises he’d have to make.

For starters, he wasn’t allowed any type of breakfast on a Sunday morning, especially anything plain. That was because you insisted on making waffles, pancakes—hell maybe even french toast— you loved a sweet treat, and you refused to let your waffle machine that he got for your birthday go to waste. So he’d sit there at 10:30am, since he was also not allowed to wake up any earlier, whilst you moved around the kitchen and asked him which fruits he wanted atop of that day’s breakfast.

Then there were Saturday afternoons, in which he already knows that he won't ever have peace and quiet at three pm because that’s your mandatory dance around the kitchen while you clean up time. Of course, he’s not allowed to have his feet touch the floor if he decided to laze on the couch during that, since you’re already approaching with the vaccum and threatening to suck up the sock right off his foot.

He cant forget lunch times while you’re on holiday either. If he even so forgets his lunchbox at home, you’re already delivering to him, the smiley face on the post-it note almost as wide as your own grin as you hand it to him.

But Simon has a few compromises of his own too.

You’re not allowed to buy any self-care items without using his card, and best believe he expects you to let him lather the face mask off your face and then clean it all of after, along with a few kisses to your cheeks of course. Same goes for your hair or nails, if you want them done, you better show him when you get back, and if you even dare to spend your own money on your period chocolate, he’ll be grumpy for the rest of the day. Grocery shopping is usually shared, and by that he means he gets to push the trolley around whilst you investigate every new item released, adding whatever nonsense you want to the basket.

For post missions there are strict rules too. One, when he walks through that door, you’re expected to drop whatever you’re holding. If you dont come to him first, he’s already tugging his shoes off and searching the halls for you like a damn sniffer dog. When he does locate you, his arms wrap tightly around your middle, nose burying into the crook of your neck as he squeezes you tightly. Two, if you havent made dinner, he’s dragging you from whatever you’re doing to the couch, swallowing you in his frame as he holds the phone before the both of you and makes you choose what takeaway you want. There’s also the possibility where he comes home fairly late, just before you’re about to sleep. So long as you have nothing important the next day, he pulls you into the bathroom with him, where you force him to let you do all the cleaning up. You get another round of kisses after you scrub him down, and another when you both dry yourselves down and he gets to see you in your cutest pajamas.

His final request of you is that he gets to hold you close every night he can, even if you’ve had a petty argument or worse one. He’d never let you stay upset for that long anyway, so he’s content having you in his arms, smelling as fresh as a daisy as you murmur about the waffles you’re making the next morning. There’s one thing you agreed to never compromise on— your love for eachother.

buy me a kofi!

[athenalvss]

Wally west X batsis!reader please 🙏😩

Maybe where she's looking hot asf at a party Bruce is holding in the wayne manor ball room and all the JL and young justice and teen titans are they and someone's flirting with reader and he realises he needs to swoop in real fast. Dick, Roy, Jason, Kyle and Donna are his biggest wingmen

NERVOUS

summary: Wally is madly in love with you, but he's scared of you and your dad, but his friends try not to let that stop him.

pairing: Wally west x batsis!reader

note: idk what I did lol I tried to write smt cute but idk what happened to me. AND officially Wally west has a masterlist

open request - wally west masterlist

The crystal chandeliers in the living room shone like stars, and you, with that damn impeccable wine colored dress and the innate bearing of a Wayne, seemed unattainable to anyone, untouchable, as if you were the most valuable jewel in Gotham.

You were gorgeous, completely mesmerizing to anyone, but even more so to Wally. But it wasn't anything new to anyone; it wasn't the first time he'd looked at you like that. In fact, he'd been doing it for years.

He met you when you were both teenagers, a couple of years after becoming friends with Dick. You weren't yet an active part of the vigilante world; Bruce didn't want to risk anything happening to you, but it was only a matter of time before you made a place for yourself in his world, at least working from the Batcave, providing information and conducting major investigations.

But even then, at a young age, you were a whirlwind; sharp, brilliant, with that dangerous mix of charm and sarcasm that left him speechless.

And tonight, seeing you like this, with that dress that hugged your curves with lethal precision, with that presence, while you were laughing at something that idiot Atlantean ambassador said, I felt like I couldn't keep pretending anymore.

Because now you weren't just his teenage crush, you weren't two kids anymore. He was a grown man, and you were a beautiful woman. He had to do something. He couldn't breathe at the thought of someone else getting there first.

I had to do something. I couldn't just stand there like another spectator while someone else refilled your glass and said things he wished he'd whispered to you years ago.

I couldn't breathe at the thought of someone else getting there first. Of someone else stealing your smiles, your secrets, your nights.

"Would you stop staring at my sister?" Dick asked, appearing at his side.

Wally didn't take his eyes off you, still watching every inch of you. How the hell could he get close to you if every time he spoke he was just talking nonsense? Maybe you liked that half-fish guy? Or maybe... did you always have that mole on your right breast?

"You've already broken him, you asked him for a very difficult task, Dick," Jason announced from a corner, holding a glass.

"He hasn't blinked in three minutes," Roy added, chewing on something. "Literally. I'm worried about his nervous system."

Donna placed a hand on Wally's shoulder, with that trained calm she used when someone was about to explode. "We know you can do it. But if you need help... well, we're bored, and it's a worthy cause."

"Perfect," Jason said, crossing his arms. "This is officially a field operation."

—What? No, you don't need a gun to th——Wally looked at them, somewhere between frustrated and scared.

"No one mentioned a gun," Donna interrupted, already pulling a small transmitter from her purse. "Right, Jason?"

Silence.

Jason smiled. “Didn’t you want to get rid of that guy over there?”

—Yeah, but not like that! We're not going to shoot anyone. —Wally raised his hands nervously.

"Shoot him?" Jason let out a dry laugh. "Don't worry so much about the guy, focus on keeping up with my sister."

Wally looked at him as if he'd been stabbed straight through the ego. "What kind of motivation is that?"

— a realist, —Roy chimed in naturally as he looked you up and down from afar— She's so fine, and you're... well, you're you.

"Thanks, Roy," Wally replied with a bitter smile. "It's nice to have friends like that."

"We're not your friends right now, at least not me," Jason clarified. "You want to flirt with my sister, it's totally disgusting. And Roy, shut up."

Roy threw up his hands, offended but amused. "I only tell the truth. Do you want me to lie? Do you want me to tell him he has a chance without our help?"

"Yeah!" Wally exclaimed. "Lie to me a little! Some emotional support wouldn't hurt, you know?"

—Perfect, everyone shut up —Donna took a small transmitter out of her bag— Put this on, Wally

Wally looked at her with a mixture of surprise and resignation, while Donna skillfully adjusted the transmitter behind his ear. "What's this?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"A direct channel to us," Donna replied with a reassuring smile. "We'll guide you in real time so you don't make a fool of yourself."

"Really?" Wally blinked in disbelief. "Is this to save me from myself?"

"Exactly," Jason crossed his arms with a wry smile. "Now you really have no excuses."

Roy leaned closer, his tone more serious. "We're here to make sure you don't die virgin."

"You're an idiot Roy." Dick looked at him seriously.

Donna stepped back, assessing him like a soldier before entering the battlefield. “Ready.”

"Already?" Wally asked, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

"Okay. Give me two minutes," Donna said, turning toward the dance floor. "And you, breathe. Straighten your back. And for the love of the Titans... don't look at that mole again."

"I wasn't going to look at the mole!" Wally protested.

Dick just patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck, West.”

And then Donna moved forward. She crossed the room with the kind of confidence that could make politicians and aliens alike tremble. By the time she reached you, your glass was already half empty, and the Atlantean ambassador was rambling on about some unimportant maritime treaty.

"Shall I steal her from you for a second?" she asked, with a charming smile. She placed a hand on your back and gently guided you away from the Atlantean ambassador. You didn't ask any questions. You knew that if Donna pulled you out of a conversation, it was for a reason.

"I owe you one," you murmured.

"You'll pay me back," she replied with a half smile before disappearing into the crowd.

You turned to go back to the middle of the room and that's when you saw Wally, just passing by, drink in hand.

His eyes found you. He stopped.

"Hey," you said, before him. Had he always had those green eyes? oh god, he has a new freckle.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice steadier than he felt inside.

>Roy: He's in! We've got eye contact!

Jason: He shouldn't be talking nonsense.

Donna: Okay, let's let him breathe.

Dick: Shhh, turn it down. He's nervous.

"Are you having fun?" you asked with a genuine smile.

"Sort of. Not as much food as I expected," Wally replied without thinking. Then he laughed at himself. "Though... I think the night's looking up now."

Roy: There! Good one! Point for the unforced comment.

Jason: I give it half a point.

"Do you want to get some fresh air? We can go... to the garden, if you like," he suggested, as if he didn't want to miss the moment.

"Sure," you replied. "Besides, they made some nice arrangements in the garden, you have to appreciate them..."

idiot, idiot, idiot, what did I just say?

You walked together without saying much at first, through the French doors that led to the garden. The fresh air enveloped them with a faint scent of jasmine and damp earth. Inside, the party continued to echo in the distance.

Wally nervously ran a hand down the back of his neck as you leaned your arms on the stone railing overlooking the lower garden.

"It's a very nice view..." he murmured.

"Yes, it is," you replied softly, without looking at him. "If you think this view is great, you can't imagine what it looks like from my room." I just invited him to my room, shit

Roy:…

Donna: THAT'S IT GIRL, SHOW HIM!

Jason: I refuse to process it.

Dick: Don't go there, Wally, don't go fucking there!

Wally choked slightly on his own breath. “From your room… do you have the best view of Gotham?” he tried pathetically.

You shrugged, amused. “Depends on what you want to see” You leaned a little closer, enjoying the mix of nervousness and tenderness he exuded, "So... do you want to see the city with me from my room sometime?"

Wally swallowed, as if he was about to say something big.

Roy: IT'S NOW, IT'S NOW!!

Donna: Don't think about it anymore, just come closer!

Jason: If they kiss, I'm cutting the channel.

Dick: Shhh, shhh, Wally's going to—

They were a second away from getting close, from finally breaking the tension, finally going to be able to live in peace, damn those beautiful eyelashes…

"tsk, fucking disgusting."

You both turned. Damian. Standing like a shadow in the bushes. Arms crossed. “Stay away from my sister or I’ll bury you alive” face.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, visibly fed up.

Damian raised an eyebrow with absolute calm. "By keeping you from making stupid decisions."

Wally opened his mouth to defend himself, but Damian glared at him before any words came out. "Slowly back away from my sister..."

BONUS SCENE

In a secluded corner of the room, away from the hustle and bustle of string music, some League members share light conversation and moderate drinks. Barry Allen glides among them with his usual restrained energy, stopping next to Bruce, who watches silently from a vantage point.

His gaze is fixed on something beyond the crowd: on the garden, where his daughter and a young redhead in a suit are laughing too close to the edge.

Barry smiles, then follows her gaze. His expression changes slightly. "Oh, I get it."

"he's too close."

Barry was holding back a laugh at Bruce's intense concern for his daughter. "Come on, Bruce. He's nervous, not a danger. He's been avoiding her for years; her breathing by his side is progress."

Bruce finally turns his face toward Barry—Tell your nephew to stay away from my daughter, not to bother her.

"I really don't think it'll bother her. Oh look, she's getting closer."

Bruce discreetly reaches for the communicator hidden in his ear. He taps a channel. He doesn't change his tone of voice.

"Damian, now."

[owlcafe]

Please feel free ignore my inane, barely-related ramblings

Perhaps the most memorable conversation of my life was with a bus driver, on the regular route I took home from university when I was a grad student. He and I had both landed a Tuesday graveyard shift, so I was the only person getting on this bus at 10pm or so. The week before, the bus had arrived late, while I was waiting, so this driver had come up to me and asked if I minded if he took his break now - apparently it was timed such that he would entitled to his break either now or after the return route. Without much thought I said something to the effect of "hell yeah brother rest up", for obvious enough reasons. The following week, it was raining, and I was scrambling to find cover in a place where I could still see the bus stop. The bus came early this time, and the driver rode up to the stop and let me on the bus early to get out of the rain. I didn't initially recognise him as the same driver, but apparently it had meant a lot to him that I hadn't flown into a rage insisting I be delivered home on schedule by an overworked and tired driver.

As you do, we got to talking, and the obvious course of the conversation was to ask what had gone wrong in our lives that we were mutually on this godforsaken bus at 10pm on a Tuesday night instead of doing literally anything else. His story was more or less what you expect - it was the best job available to him to make the kind of money you need to support a family these days. My story was simply that I'd signed on for a PhD, and with it a pretty good helping of teaching hours, including the occasional 5-9pm lab class (a process which, incidentally, more or less prevented me from having a driver's licence at the time. Don't worry about the details, but it's important to the story).

At this point, I had just begun the process of emerging from a series of self-loathing spirals - the one that stems from being an autistic child, then the one that comes from simply being 14, then the one that comes from being bisexual, then the one that comes from being non-binary, to the bonus round of growing up in a stereotypically male way while being non-binary and the unique way that makes you feel like your body is betraying you when your hair starts thinning at 19, and and fun and fresh ways these all bleed into each other. At some point in that whole whirlwind, I'd become quite convinced I wasn't going to make it out alive, despite never having any real risk to my life externally or even really internally, so my early to mid 20s were a period of discovering that I did indeed survive and now I needed a plan. This led to me falling into a lot of things just cause they sounded nice. I took a lot of odd jobs because they sounded interesting or paid well, I signed on to the PhD simply because I was asked to by my supervisor and I liked the idea of earning myself a gender neutral title, as if putting Dr [extremely common male name] on my mail was actually going to make people think twice about whether or not I was a man. This all to say, I was in the beginning of cultivating my "just a guy" self-image. It's easier, in that circumstance, to cut away the grandeur and the pompousness, because you can easily recognise them as fake. It's harder to cut away at the ways in which you undermine yourself, hate yourself, discredit yourself, because it feels like humility (and, especially in an emergent and incomplete social justice mindset, it's easy to invoke your privileges with the aesthetic of checking them, but the function of whipping yourself for "not earning" the things that you have, only further centralising your feelings as a member of the oppressor class).

To finally get to the point of all this, whenever you mention you're doing a PhD there's a pretty common social script that happens. The other person says that's very impressive, you bat it off, they say oh no I could never, and then you either make some joke about the absolute buffoons with PhDs you've inevitably met in your time in academia or just laugh awkwardly and move on. The bus driver starts the script normally, with an "oh that's very impressive" and I follow up with the canned response of "oh its not really all that, anyone could do what I'm doing". And then, I remember very precisely, he said "it seems that way to you because you can, the same way I think anyone could drive this bus because I can. But, I couldn't do what you do anymore than you could drive this bus."

And that pierced through it for me in a way that's really stuck with me. If I wanted to do the ivory tower academic thing, I could semantically dissect his statement - I could drive the bus and he could do my PhD, it's more accurate to say that the power structures surrounding us wouldn't have permitted it because I didn't have a licence to satisfy the local laws and he didn't have the educational background to pierce through the veil of graduate school exclusivity. I don't necessarily think it's literally true, what he said, but it was very powerful to me emotionally at the time. Because, in that moment in the bus at 10pm, we were both just some guy. We'd ended up in different places because of our circumstances, our identities, our choices, but we were still just some guy. In that moment, I had the same capabilities and limits as he did, just distributed differently. And for me, I'd spent most of my adolescence and much of my early 20s desperately projecting this ideal of like. A renaissance man, I guess? I needed people to believe that I was perfect, unlimited, infinitely skilled but also unflinchingly humble, lest they detect the parts of me that I assumed they would hate (because I hated them about myself). That someone I'd never really met before could so precisely and sincerely cut through it all, simultaneously denying me my instinct to degrade myself and reminding me that I am indeed subject to many and varied limitations, denying me even the privilege to bemoan that of course I can achieve these things because I'm white and middle class and so on, so I'm really not that remarkable. It really affected me. It brought me to a new level of being just some guy, and really helped me calibrate my vision of myself.

Obviously, it didn't fix everything in that single moment, but it helped me build a new frame I could use to look at things. If I started to feel shame or fear over not being able to do some particular thing that I wanted to do or felt compelled to do socially, I could remember that moment and how my path in life has given me limits as well as possibilities. And that's kept both halves of my ego in check ever since - I don't feel that I'm somehow entitled or should naturally have "lesser" skills on account of having access to "greater" ones (I can run advanced stats like nobody's business but I still can't drive a car), and I also don't feel the guilt and shame of not having certain skills that are considered basic because I have other skills that I've developed instead (yes I can't drive a car, but I can run advanced statistics).

I am once again just yapping with no real purpose but this idea really strikes a chord with me I guess. I just wanna say these things cause I want to. I don't particularly feel that there's untold wisdom or anything, it's a pretty milquetoast case of this whole thing occurring, but if anything I guess I feel compelled to pass on the wisdom I got from that bus driver that night. For better or for worse, we're all just some guy.

i really do believe that the answer to a lot of people's self hatred is not to try and reassure them that they are wonderful and okay and enough, but instead to remind them theyre a completely unremarkable regular ass person who is not the center of the universe or especially important so why would they expect themselves to be some superhuman savior. like there really is a kernel of out of control self importance at the heart of thinking youre an evil lazy piece of shit. because why would you expect you be anything but just like some guy. if you wouldnt expect the guy who works at the vape shop or your mailman or whatever to be able to do something then why would you expect yourself to? youre just some random ass person. its fine

[dating-eveeything]

Mac romantic hcs please? 🥺 (preferably with a gender neutral reader but whatever you are comfy with writing is ok too!)

Romantic headcanons for: MAC

Featuring: Mac

Fic type: headcanons, fluff!!

No content warning, pretty short length wise, Gender neutral reader :)

Yay!! I love Mac soo much, made me so happy to see this in my inbox ❤️

First of all, once you enter a relationship with Mac your 11.5 hours of screentime a business week skyrockets higher than a person who touches grass could ever imagine.

Mac is pretty in-between when it comes to physical affection; though they tell you late one night that they only like it when you touch their keys or mess with the mouse.

Kisses are an average occurrence, leaning over the side of their chair and grabbing onto your shirt like it's the end of their life to tug you down- Peppering your face in kisses.

Post-getting together they push just a little more for you to get better parts for their system, promising that a new fan would work wonders for both them and you. Of course they understand the hesitation to replace anything, parts are so expensive nowadays, but they know eventually they'll wear you down.

And obviously, not only do they get you to buy things for them, but things for you too. That shirt set you wanted but decided on not getting? They're holding you close and telling you about how nice you would look in them, how good it'll feel to 'treat yourself'.

Sadly, you can't sit on their lap. Their legs don't have the strength to keep up any weight over ~10 pounds. But that doesn't mean you can't still cuddle up to them; Mac can sit on your lap, or the two of you can sit on the floor together under the desk, or you can lay in bed together.

Albeit, Mac doesn't like standing idle, so it might take some work to get them to rest. They always want to be working on something, even if that work ends up being a boring desk job where you really only respond to emails.

They enjoy showing off things they think you'll like, using popups to show you a funny video they saw online, or a jacket that's just your style, it's one of their most common ways of showing they pay attention to you.

Their love language is Parallel Play. Simply sitting next to you and working on separate things is fine with them. Hell, you could be talking to Chance or Dasha and they wouldn't care- as long as you hold their hand and squeeze it from time to time.

Not really the jealous type, they know you on a very intimate level, they know your type; they are your type. It's going to take more than some mediocre pick-up lines over text to get them jealous.

Though, there was this one time where they shut off the show you were watching instead of working because you kept oogling one of the actors. So maybe it isn't as hard as you think?

Flustering them is rather easy, no double clicking needed. Praise gets their fan running quicker than it probably should. They especially enjoy it when you praise them for their smooth running systems after a long day of running some pretty big programs and they'll melt.

[valentinedrifter]

Snippets with Jiwon: Belle

male reader x Park Jiwon

~2.3k words

A/N: Prompt for @suchsweetstories. Thanks for hosting!

Enjoy.

“Here’s your shake!”

The room glows, flashing every color in the rainbow as the drum of the bass starts to beat through your chest. Laughter, giggles, and conversations were everywhere. Not like in those night clubs where it was messy and chaotic. This was quieter, tamer, more focused.

The decor of hearts—neon lights, balloons, the Goddamn headband of it you were forced to wear—decorated everything, from the walls to the chairs to the cherry on top of the shake you just got. It was all red, hiding from the glow of the lights flashing around them.

The DJ somewhere at the back was playing some old songs that you couldn’t tell if people cared about or not since they were all focused on each other rather than anything else.

You sigh, taking a deep breath before taking the chance to glance around the room. Couples all over the place, drinking the same single shake you have, with two straws and two spoons, two mouths. Facing each other, sitting next to one another, it didn’t fucking matter. 

They were all the same, just in different shapes and sizes. The older couple wrapping their arms around each other staring outside the window or the awkward one that were laughing at each other for drinking on the same glass.

In the end they were all enjoying what they were here for.

“Happy Valentines!”

This feels like a mistake, and you shouldn’t have let Jiwon convince you to do this.

You don’t even know how she managed to do it. Only that she yelled at you to attend this ‘blind date’ event to get your mind off of things.

Things being your ex that left you for some gym rat she met where she works out at.

She didn’t bother to give you the courtesy of telling you face to face. Just a text telling you that she needs a ‘break’ then proceeds to block your number.

If you can call a break hooking up with someone else because you found her cheating.

And yeah, not sleeping right and wallowing in your misery for the first few weeks of the breakup isn’t the healthiest way to cope, but this is not the answer to fixing your heart.

It’s been months since the break up anyway, and you told yourself to swear off of falling in love in the near future. 

You were doing fine. 

Jiwon disagrees, because she always does, which is why you’re holding a tray with a milkshake in an event to try and find your ‘dream girl’ as she puts it.

You should’ve told her to set herself up too since she’s been single since birth.

Your supposed ‘blind date’ hasn’t shown up and it’s been almost half an hour since the event started.

And the number stub that was given to you has been staring at you for the majority of the time you’ve spent together.

Twenty might as well haunt you at this point.

No dream girls here.

It really didn’t have to be on February 14th of all days because that felt like pouring salt in the wound and slapping the utter shit out of it.

Like, holy shit, who would even set up a blind date event on Valentines?

And yet here you are, pushing through it anyway. Did it to prove a point that you still have your shit together. You dressed up, got a new cut, used your favorite perfume. Cleaned yourself up pretty well, you have to admit. 

It still feels as if you’re conducting self-inflicted torture on yourself to see all these people enjoying their dates and you’re here in the middle of all of it. 

Sitting on a table. 

Staring across the empty seat.

Struggling to enjoy the free shake.

Alone.

Your hand wraps around the tall glass, cooling your palms. You were about to grab a straw until you notice:

A pair of straws, a duet of spoons. Both heart-shaped.

Two.

Motherfuckers.

You must’ve looked depressing as hell to everyone in the building right now, staring at the milkshake you got, watching the glass slowly condensate and the ice cream melt on top.

You sigh, feeling the hearts bobble on your head shake when you reach out to one of the straws, hearing a slower song start to play before a hand takes it away from the tray.

You can smell the rosy-wine smell on the arm that took it. It smelled familiar, like someone who always left that same scent every time you met. 

“Hey.” You hear, making you look up to see a very familiar face.

“Jiwon?” You squint against all the glare of the party lights, and sure enough, it was her, in the flesh, standing right in front of you. Wearing a combination of black and red that looked amazing on her, with a choker on her neck and the same headband that you’re wearing to complete the ensemble.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Jiwon smiles, “Didn’t get a chance to catch your dream girl?”

“No, I–Hold on, what are you doing here?” You watch her sit down on the chair in front of you, her purse settling on the table. “I thought you were with Hayoung.”

“I was. She’s right over there.” She points the straw behind you, aiming it near the music booth where Hayoung was talking with the DJ. “You know how much she likes these types of songs.”

“That still doesn’t explain what you two are doing here.” You return Hayoung’s enthusiastic wave with a shy, confused one before turning back to Jiwon, who’s already taking a sip of your milkshake, that glint in her eye that makes you narrow your eyes.

The next few words that came out of her mouth make you wanna—

“Does my honey not wanna see me?” She asks in this cutesy tiny little voice that makes your eyes widen, your head leaning back in, and your entire being thrown off balance. “Even after I dressed up like this for him?”

“Jiwon, what the fuck are you saying–” You can’t even continue your line of thought because she starts pouting, and that really starts to confuse the fuck out of you because you don’t know whether you like seeing that look from her or not.

“Hmph!” She makes a face. The type that looks cute and adorable, the type that makes your heart beat faster, the type that makes you want to puke at the second hand embarrassment you’re getting. “My honey doesn’t love me anymore!”

“Please stop, you’re making me cringe.” You let out. It’s a self-defense mechanism to protect your heart from whatever the fuck she’s trying to do.

“I was being cute!” She screams, drawing a few looks from the nearby people and making her mouth a ‘Sorry’ with a little peace sign and a bashful laugh before looking back at you.

“Besides, you like it when I act cute. Don’t think I didn’t see it.” She grins, taking another sip of the milkshake.

“You’re seeing things.” You retort. “And don’t think you can get away with not answering my question.”

“What question?” She tilts her head, the lights shadowing her face. And all you do is give a blank stare and a raised eyebrow to avoid thinking about how beautiful she looks, from the way she’s dressed to her cute dimple on her face.

“The question.” You reiterate. “You know, the one I asked you earlier?”

She hums, before batting her eyelashes and placing her hands on her chin. “Remind me?”

You sigh. “What are–”

“–I doing here?” She finishes, giggling, dimples showing. She dips her spoon into the shake, scooping up a piece of ice cream from the glass and holds it out towards you.

“Say ‘ah’ first.” She grins. You can smell the roses on her arm.

You blink, once towards the spoon, another towards her. “You’re joking.”

“Come on.” She drags, nudging the spoon even more. The smell is intoxicating. “Indulge me a little, honey.”

“No, Jiwon.” A shake of your head. Honey’s starting to sound really nice though.

“Pretty please?” Her pout’s back in full swing, doing her cute act of tilting her head, giving you those irresistible puppy eyes and the child-like voice airing out of her lips. “Just one, honey?”

Normally you’d say no. It’s the easiest thing in the world to say. One word. One syllable. 

But everything about her is just messing you up in all the good, the bad, the her ways from the moment she sat down.

And so, you cave in.

“Only once.” You sigh before leaning in towards her.

She grins before feeding you, giggling as she pulls it away. Her scent still lingers around you.

“You fold so easy when I act cute.” She states, placing the spoon on her pouting lips, tongue slipping out before she winks at you. “I should take notes on these–”

You weren’t used to this type of Jiwon. She was playful, sure, but never flirty with you. She’d tease, yell, whatever. Thought it was all friendly banter at that point. And from the moment you knew her, she would never, ever, act like this for you.

And you honestly thought she swung the other way judging from the looks she gives Hayoung on occasion. Or how she touches Jisun. And how well she knows Chaeyoung a little too much.

It was really, painfully obvious when she was with Miyeon. She even cried happy (or was it sad?) tears when she found out Miyeon got together with one of her coworkers. That ‘New Girl from Japan’ that Jiwon says everyone likes because of how bubbly she is.

But maybe you were wrong about her. And you don’t know what that means for you or for her.

“So,” You cough, gulping, praying that she doesn’t catch you like a nervous mess because of her. She’d never let it go. “Would you mind answering my question now?”

“Fine, fine.” She rummages through her purse a bit before she takes out a piece of paper. “I’m sitting here all dressed up, for this.”

She places it down, and the number is practically screaming out of it.

Twenty.

Two. Zero.

Oh.

“Oh, he says.” She giggles, chin resting on her palm. You were starting to like the sound of it coming out of her. “Didn’t expect it to be me?”

“I never really thought you were into these types of things.” You answer, eyes still focused on the stub. “And I thought you said you were going clubbing with Hayoung.”

“Technically, this is a club.” She replies, eyes dancing around the room. “And I was with Hayoung when we came in.”

“Did you also set yourself up as my blind date?”

“That was more of a group effort.” She smiles, tongue out and all. “Chae started it.”

“That’s now how blind dates are supposed to work.” You sigh—you’ve been doing that a lot.

“You didn’t know I was your date, so it’s still a blind date, honey.” She flicks the heart on her headband. “Besides, the look on your face is so worth the effort.”

“You are crazy.” You laugh despite yourself. This was not how you expected your night to go.

“Maybe.” She grins. All dimples and teeth and crescent eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to spend my Valentines with you.” 

You should have said something. Asked about the real reason she’s your date and not someone random. Why she went through all this trouble for you.

But you don’t know if you’re ready to hear the answer just yet. Besides, she’s done enough things today for you to put that on the back burner right now.

“Thanks for saving me, I guess.” You let out a smile of your own. Small, tired, content.

“You’re welcome!” She takes another scoop of ice cream. Grand, excited, happy. “Now enjoy this milkshake with me.”

“Only if you tell me how you all of you set this up.” Whether this was an excuse to keep things light or you wanted to hear her voice, you’ll never know.

“Deal.”

She starts rambling about how Chaeyoung found out that a mutual friend was helping out organize the entire event. How Hayoung decided to ‘volunteer’ and help out so that she can thumb down your names. How she convinced—screamed at, but semantics—you to attend the event.

You listened to all of it. Every crack in her voice when she giggles, every change in tone whenever she tries impersonating one of her friends. You don’t even notice that the milkshake’s almost gone.

You could watch her ramble on about things that could make your brain hurt like those brainrot memes that were blowing up all over the place and you’d take all of it and sit there with a smile–

Oh. Oh.

“–So now all I had to do was show up and look pretty while you gawk at how beautiful I am.”

“I wasn’t gawking.” You splutter, avoiding her gaze. You definitely weren’t. 

Surely.

“Uh-huh.” She smirks. “Didn’t you look like this–”

She starts making faces, pretending to be you when she first sat down. She looked adorably stupid doing it.

“I wasn’t that bad.” You laugh, flicking the spoon at her.

“I dunno.” She laughs with you, leaning back. “You were pretty bad at hiding it.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, and all that’s left is her smile, the music, and those little flutters in your chest that you used to have way back when. Her lips break into a grin, and her eyes light up.

You feel as if you could lose yourself in them.

Then she speaks, spoon raised and pointed towards you. 

You realize: you’re right back at square one.

“Happy Valentines, you idiot.”  

Falling in love.

“Yeah.” You smile, a shake of your head accompanying the spoon that you’re holding. You clink it together with hers.

“Happy Valentines, Jiwon.”

[hannieboyd]

ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ & ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ.

pairings: tutor!jisung x fem!reader | collage au

contains: +18, unprotected sex (be safe!!), Sub!jisung, slight mommy kink (used once), dom!reader like wow WE NEED MORE DOM READERS, dry humping, strangers to lovers(?) , real nerdy jisung with a big N, perverted on both sides lowkey (mostly Han), college sex

word count: 3,329

extras: first attempt of a full english fic, I procrastinated and crammed it into one night aswell lol.. please excuse any mistakes!

Tutor!jisung who’d never go out of his way to talk to girls, hell, he barely even left his dorm. but when he saw you enter the class, rolled up sleeves, nearly see through top and a short uniform skirt he wasn’t sure where to look. it was even worse when he saw how your thighs slowly press down against the chair as you sat down, wishing it was him instead. His eyes trailed you down as you sat in front of him, whether it was just writing your name down or checking your phone to see if your boyfriend texted you, he was watching. He already had a hard time paying attention in this class, and now it became impossible with you there.

Even when the teacher called on him he stared at you.

He’d actually known of you for a while. You guys even went to high school together but you knew his friends more than you knew of him. In all honesty you thought he hated women the way you never saw him with them. He was always so quiet, pushing his glasses up to see better, usually on his phone even if he was with his friends, he was kind of..a dork. In a cute way though. Sure he might’ve been an anime nerd…and a gaming nerd..and well, a nerd. He was actually really attractive. Many people tend to see through that though because of his shy nature which was pretty unfortunate. Despite that, you found him pretty Intriguing.

So when you saw him in your class in the beginning of the semester you were pretty excited to see a familiar face. However it was different, it had only been a couple months and something about him had changed. It seemed he grew into his features overtime and surprisingly looked pretty attractive, But you had a boyfriend, Not to mention he seemed so infatuated with his studies and his own self it was dumb to get involved with him at all.

The weeks seemed to pass by fast.

Slowly but surely he found himself growing a crush on you—just alittle one though. Yeah he only started showing up to see you, but the class was hard to get through so a little pick me up was needed regardless. Eventually he even started to wonder how you were, what you did before coming and what you were going to do after the class was done. It was confusing on why. He’s had crushes in the past, yeah, but for some reason it’s like somethings drawing him to you. He was so fixated on you he even knew that during the time you’d been in the class, you have actually had quite a hard time. When you had gotten your first exam back last week with a 20/60 and a big red circle written on it he went home later and fisted himself to the thought of you on your knees, blouse open ever so slightly but still enough to show a bit of your pink bra peaking out, sucking his dick, while thanking him for tutoring you over his moans. So when Professor Lee suggested him tutor you he was quick to agree.

And when you came up to him smiling, holding your phone out to him to put his number into while also thanking him for agreeing to tutor you he couldn’t move. not a muscle. It was until you asked if he was okay he snapped back into reality.

“oh, sorry.. i’m okay. and your welcome..” he said quietly while holding eye contact with the floor.

you chuckled at his nervousness

“I’ll see you later then, jisung!” you said while waving goodbye. “yeah..later.”

It had been a couple days since your guys last encounter and since then Han had checked his phone about 5 times per minute. It was until he finally got a text he let out a sigh. not a bad sigh, but it wasn’t necessarily a good one either. “Hey, i know it’s been a couple days but I’m available around 6 if that works for you 🙂” The text was simple, but Han was unsure how to respond. He’s never texted a girl before, other than his mom and sister, he was basically a shut in. women repellent if you will.

After a quick exchange with his friends he decided to go he decided on a casual response that said, “sure. that works fine for me”

“cool! see you then jisung”

He nearly threw his phone across the room. he probably would of if he didn’t have expensive figures all over it. He eventually calmed himself down and decided to tidy up around the dorm. after all, sharing with 2 other men was, to put this bluntly, fucking disgusting. To go boxes everywhere, dirty clothes, and it didn’t help that Jeongin and Felix liked to bring their one night stands there because now he was stuck picking up condoms with rubber gloves on.

when he finished 6pm had already rolled around so now all he waited to do was wait, so he did. He fidgeted with his fingers as he did so nervously looking around the room. Was the tv too dusty? the window too dirty? Maybe the looked disorganized.. would you even talk to him? All this thought came to an end when he heard the doorbell ring. He walked towards the door and opened it for you.

And there you were.

Standing at his doorstep Smiling innocently as you thanked him for agreeing to tutor you. It was just as he imagined. You wearing your school uniform, with that short skirt and a hint of pink lace showing through your shirt. “Thank you so much, i hope it wasn’t any trouble..” For a second he couldn’t move. You were here, in front of him, thanking him even. Snapping out of it he shuffled himself aside, letting you in. “ah.. it’s no problem..”

his eyes trailed over you.

You stepped inside, eyes scanning the small place. Surprisingly, It seemed pretty clean for a dorm shared by 4 boys. “uh—this way,” he mumbled before leading you down the short hallway to his room. Walking behind him you saw a peak of his room. Figures from multiple shows, games, and movies appeared, aswell as what seemed to be a poster from who knows where. “sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” He said while leading you inside the room, knowing it really wasn’t. He lowered himself onto a cushion sitting on the floor next to a table. He had already set the materials on the table for you, incase you might have forgotten something, he didn’t want you to leave. After briefly scanning the room you joined him on the pillow next to him.

“So, what are you struggling with?”

“Basically everything.” you said trying to bring some humor into the room. “ah.. i see..” he chuckled weakly, lowering his head to the table. “well calculus can be hard for some people, especially since the class isn’t exactly.. exciting.”

you nodded in agreement, “I know, right?” he looked up at you, eyes flicking up and then quickly away again. “w-well let’s just start with the basics then, is that alright?”

You hummed in approval, grabbing your notebook from your bag as he adjusted his posture to look more put together than he felt.

still, could see it all over him. How his face flushed and avoided contact from yours. How his pen seemed to stay touched even when he wasn’t using it. He’d clearly never had anyone else here before, and it was cute.

He cleared his voice— “Okay, so derivatives..”Youd been at the same thing for around 40 minutes and you checked out about 20 minutes ago. Math was never your forte to be fair. And when your tutor clearly cant keep his eyes off from everywhere but your face it was harder. “So what are those?” you blanked out. “Uhh.. equations?..” He blinked like his brain had been frozen.

“wait, seriously?” he asked with a mix of confusion and disbelief in his voice (maybe a little judgement too..) “We’ve been on this subject for like 40 minutes now, y/n” tone slightly raising

“Well it’s not exactly easy to pay attention when my tutor cant even look me in the eyes to teach me-“ you said teasing, but bit back on the last part before it came out to sharp. looking at jisung expecting a laugh or a sarcastic response, Instead his face went pale. You meant it as a joke, but it seemed he didn’t get the jist of it. “W-what” stammering on his words, finally locking eyes for more than a second. “i don’t-” you cut him off with a laugh “lighten up jisung it was only a joke”

He let out a breath, somewhere between relief and panic. As you leaned back on your hands, stretching just enough for your shirt to ride up slightly. You caught him looking.

“Besides,” You added, voice going softer with each word you spoke “you wouldn’t want me here all night?”

Another joke.

He was still in shock, but his gaze dropped—too quick to be casual, too obvious to ignore. You looked back at him with a smug look, and then just like that, flustered, he subtly shifted. bringing his hand over his lap, he tried to play it off.

He cleared his throat. “Not sure what you mean..”

You teased, pushing him a bit harder. “Sure you don’t.” He glared at you. “We should get back to the session.” You groaned. “How if I cant even figure out what a dergabagaba is.” leaning into your hand stubbornly, “A derivative. And maybe we could.. play a game?” you laughed. “A math game, seriously, how fun for us!”

“Don’t laugh, it was just a suggestion..” he looked away in embarrassment. So much for putting ideas out there I guess. “Fine.” you folded, “And if it doesn’t work?” “I fear you’ll have to stay here all night till i make you understand.” you let out a surprised laugh, “Guess who grew a pair”

“I didn’t mean it like that” he rolled his eyes, hand still covering his crotch.

You both decided to play some sort of Guessing game—He’d asked, you’d answered. that was the whole point of it. After about 15 questions (10 of which you actually got right) you started to really like it. For once, you weren’t just staring blankly at a worksheet before giving up and deciding to let it rot in your backpack. Things were clicking, you found yourself actually comprehending what he was teaching you (and liking it?).

He pushed his middle finger up against the bridge of his glasses. sweat trailed down his forehead as doing so. you couldn’t help but smirk.

It had gotten warmer in the room without you realizing, suddenly you could feel the heat on the back of your neck, the air feeling heavier, thicker, however it started to seem to just be from the temperature.

you both kept going with the game, determined to get the last answer right.

“Alright, last one,” He said while adjusting his collar out of warmth, “whats the derivative of 5(x) = 5x³?”

you paused for a moment, then smiled confidently. “That’s 15x².” He blinked, pleasantly surprised. “Correct.” You grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “See? i’m totally not hopeless.” He gave you a smile, clearly impressed. You leaned back, adjusting your collar and noticing how warm it had gotten in the room.

“wow, its like burning in here” fidgeting with your tie, contemplating whether or not to take it off.

“yeah, i guess so, huh.” you both looked around the room. Finally finishing the math game, both unsure what to do now, it fell silent. Seeing as you two warmed up to each other for a bit during then, you stuck a conversation.

“Hey how about we switch it up, truth or dare?” He blinked surprised, but nodded slowly. “Okay..”

you smiled softly, “Okay, truth or dare?” He gave some time to think about it before answering. “Truth..” You leaned in just a little, eyes warm but playful. You knew he was a little shy, but how could you not have a little fun with him, after all its 7pm on a Friday night and your boyfriend didn’t seem to have problems teasing around either other girls either. you let loose. “Have you ever kissed a girl before?” his cheeks flushed with warmth. “No…”

He looked up at you carefully, then asked quietly. “Uh, Truth or dare?” You nodded smiling, “Truth” he rubbed his arm to call him down. He wanted to match your energy, he really did, he was just unsure on how. He swallowed nervously before asking hoping the question wouldn’t chase you away. “What…. whats something you like about me?”

You smiled wider. “Hmm.. your nervousness. It’s kinda cute.”

he laughed softly, easing the tension a bit. “Alright, truth or dare?” He hesitated. “Dare.” You grinned, tilting your head a bit. “I dare you to kiss me on the cheek.” He stiffened once again. “Now?-”

“Well, unless you’re scared.” You shifted towards him. “So, what’ll it be?” He was stuck. He’d never imagine this. not in his wildest dreams would he had thought he’d be here with you clearly pulling yourself onto him. He just stared while the tent in his pants continued to grow, and his mind filled with crazy fantasies. Eventually he pulled your hair behind your ears and leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing your cheek, and over much too quickly. You felt the heat crawl up to your neck, yet you weren’t satisfied. Greediness had taken over and you needed to see him shut down under your touch, completely gone.

He pulled back a little, eyes glistening but nervous, then asked quietly, “Truth or dare?” Caught up in the heat of the moment you grinned. “Dare.” While holding eye contact with him, clearly wanting more out of him.

He felt conflicted. He didn’t know whether to ask you a simple question or not. Either way he knew you were gonna test him until he gave out. But it wasn’t fair—why did you get to say all those things while he basically remained a hermit crab stuck in his shell, unable to say anything outside his usual vocabulary?

starting to grow tension, he finally asked, voice higher than normal, “Okay… kiss me.” you were taken by surprised, your brows lifting slightly as your gaze dropped to his lips. Did he really say that?

A smug smile tugged at your mouth. “But i did so good during the game,” you said, voice dropping playfully, almost like a pout. “shouldn’t i get one from you?”

His face nearly turned the color of the apple on his nightstand, clearly not expecting you to flip that onto him. “I-I mean, you’ve been testing me all night..” he mumbled, barely able to look at you. “Messing with me..” You tilted your head and scooted closer to him, your thigh brushing his. “Mhm. But I think I earned it.” Your hand slid gently onto his leg, fingers barely moving, thumb brushing his inner thigh just enough to make his whole body tense up. “Don’t you?” His breath hitched. He looked down at you, eyes catching the slight pout in your lips along with the soft curve of your expression. Just enough to make his mind fog up.

“..Fine.” he breathed, voice barely holding itself together. But he didn’t move—not right away. The word hung between you guys, unsure of if he even meant to say it. Until he turned over slightly, grabbing the back of ur head. You gasped into the kiss, startled by his sudden movement. He sucked at your lips as if he wanted to inhale you altogether, he was desperate, like he’d been holding this in for years. and honestly, maybe he had. You matched him his energy, laying your arms onto his shoulder as you snuck your tongue into his mouth, making his breath stutter, his body jult, and a soft, choked up whimper escaped him. “f-fuck..” his hips started to roll against yours,

you couldn’t take it.

The way he fell apart under your touch, nearly crumbling like stone under your lips, you needed more. You needed to see him beg under you, pleading for you, crying that you’ll be a good boy for him if he let you do what you wanted to him. anything.

Then your hand drifted lower, fingers brushing against the bulge in his jeans in circular motion. This time, he didn’t flinch away,

Didn’t stop you,

Didn’t even breathe.

Your palm pressed down, grazing the length of him through the sweats, and you felt his whole body tense up. He pulled back from the kiss, panting against your mouth, eyes wide and glassy.

“You’re such a-” he started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

Because your hand began fisting him through his pants, dragging the pressure along the shape of him until his hips twitched up into your palm. A low moan spilled from his throat, he was ashamed of how easy he fell for you.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers tightening like he needed something to hold onto before he lost it completely. And then he pulled you onto his lap, fast and a little clumsy, like if he didn’t do it now, he would’ve gone crazy

You didn’t fight it. You just sank into him, thighs straddling his, the heat between you unbearable now. The second you ground your hips into his, he gasped. “s-shit”

You rolled your hips down against him, with just enough pressure to make him jolt beneath you. His head fell back against the bed behind him, mouth parted, eyes shut and biting his bottom lip.

“F-fuck,” he breathed, barely audible.

Your hands were planted on his chest, steadying yourself as you moved faster. You could feel how hard he was. straining against the fabric, twitching every time you rolled your hips just right. His hands had slipped under your shirt now, trembling slightly, but too caught up in the moment to stop him. To stop anything. Your lips made its way to his ear. “You like that, ji?” He let out a broken moan. “Y-yeah—making me feel so good mo...-” he stopped before he could finish that sentence. his face heated up. He tried to cover it up with added groans but you knew what he wanted to say, and who were you to deny him that? so you inched closer to his face “its okay, let it out ji.”

His eyes rolled at the words. “Fuck.. y-yes mommy..”

You rocked your hips again. He bucked up into you, completely helpless with his hands gripping your waist like you were gonna run away. His breath hitched, eyes half open and glassy like he was seconds from breaking apart right under you. you pushed his limit.

“w-wait, I—”

But you didn’t. You leaned in, lips brushing against his again,

“Let it out, Ji.”

That did it.

His whole body tensed—fingers gripping to your hips so hard you were positive it would leave a mark. He gasped, choked on a moan, and stilled underneath you, eyes rolling back just the slightest bit.

“shit..—” he stuttered, hips bucking once, twice before falling still again. his face flushed deep pink as you felt the warmth spread between you. You watched him come undone in front of you. His lips trembled, fingers twitching like he didn’t know where to put them. Like he couldn’t believe what just happened, moaning your name like it was a spell. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you brushed some hair out of his face. “Already?”

He looked done, completely out of it. attempting to blink himself back into existence. “Im sorry.. I didn’t mean to—”

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I was just joking, ji”.

AN: Hii, thank you so much for reading my first fic on this account! I apologize it’s so disorganized, english isn’t my first language so there is probably many mistakes. Also had mad writers block during this, haha. reqs are open 24/7:)

[prettydaisygirl]

Hello beautiful, I hope you're having a good day ♡

I came to ask you for a request about Sirius, my boy haha

One where he and the reader are starting their relationship and she thinks that maybe he doesn't take her as seriously as her previous ex-boyfriends and that after one night together, their first time together as a couple, she thinks that he's going to leave just like that without knowing that he's enthusiastic about aftercare. 😭💗

hello gorgeous!! Thank you so, so much for this request. This is technically the first thing I'm writing for Sirius (minus my wip) so please give feedback if you want! I hope you enjoy this, happy to have you here!

boyfriend!Sirius Black x fem!reader who finds out Sirius loves aftercare ✿ 823 words

cw: NSFW but no actual smut, fem reader, takes place right after their first time together, comparison of sex with Sirius to previous relationships (vague)

sirius black masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure what to do.

You’re fully spent, thighs still trembling, the echo of Sirius’ grunts and praises still in your ear. Your chest heaves with shaking breaths, and Sirius’ hand traces soft, soothing circles over your heart. You try not to relish in it too much. 

The two of you have only been seeing each other for a few weeks, and now you’re tangled together in the sheets for the first time. You feel thoroughly satisfied, though it wasn’t like you weren’t expecting for it to be good. Hell, even better than good considering he's Sirius Black. It was the best sex you’ve ever had. 

Now though, you aren’t sure what to do. Your exes would stay for a bit, give you a goodbye kiss, and slowly get dressed and leave. It was pretty clear with them. It’s never just been… quiet before. 

You sit up, and Sirius’ hand falls to your thigh before sliding off and landing on the bed. He lets out a groan and throws a hand over his eyes. Both of your bodies are slick with sweat and the scent of sex is still thick around you. 

You stretch your arms over your head, eyes tailing over Sirius’ figure. His arm moves enough to reveal his gaze to you, sharp but still dark with lust as you look over him. 

“I think you’ve killed me.” He tells you with a tired but teasing smirk. A flutter ignites in your belly despite your own exhaustion. You return his smile, and the room is enveloped in silence once again. Eventually, you begin feeling self conscious as Sirius just watches you. You turn, sliding your legs off the side of the bed, preparing to stand. 

“Where are you going?” Sirius asks, hand clasping gently around your arm to stop you from standing. You turn back again, brows furrowing just enough to be noticeable. 

“I was just… going to get dressed?” You say it as a question, now feeling a bit uneasy as he sits up too. 

“Why?” Sirius’ eyes look you over and you try not to squirm. It feels ridiculous considering he was just inside you, talking you through your orgasm. “Is it… did you not- was I not good?”

Your eyes widen, the answer to his question leaving your mouth before you even really know what you’re saying. “What? No! No, you-” Your face feels hot and you almost want to avoid his gaze. “You were perfect.”

“Okay…” Sirius is watching you like he’s trying to decipher a code, his hand flattening against your skin before brushing up and down slowly. “Then why are you running away?”

“I’m not!” You deny, though it’s clear to both of you that you definitely are. “I just- we’re done, right? So I thought…”

Your words trail off, and Sirius raises his eyebrows at you expectantly. “You thought…?”

You hate how awkward this is. You’ve never had to decipher a guy like this after sex before. You wonder how it’s possible for him to know your body so well, and yet here the two of you are acting like awkward, fumbling teenagers. “I thought… you’d want to go?”

Sirius blinks a few times, then you’re shrieking loudly as his grip tightens around your arm again and he tugs you close. He wraps his other arm around your back, pulling your body on top of his.

“And what if I want to stay and love on you, eh?” He asks, hands moving to run up and down your back. “What would ever make you think I’d just want to get dressed and leave?”

“I don’t know.” You admit with a soft shrug, suddenly feeling shy now. “We’ve only been together a few weeks, and you were so quiet, I just thought…”

“Well, I think,” He says, moving one hand to cup your jaw while the other settles on your lower back, just at the base of your spine, “You need to stop thinking. Just… be here. With me.”

Your face and heart soften at the same time. You lower your head to press your lips to his, slow and lingering but neither of you deepen it. One of your hands finds the side of his neck as you pull away, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your palm. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” His words are soft and he pulls you down to kiss you again, harder this time. “I want to stay here, with you, in your bed.” He breaks up his words with kisses and you melt like putty under his hands. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Your voice comes out breathy against his mouth, an octave higher than usual. You can feel his lips turn up into a smile, but when he pulls back, you realize it’s more of a smirk.

“Keep begging like that, baby, and you might never get me to leave.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[punksyeet]

- Inked ❥

Plot: Four letters. One word. Ugh, ugh. Tats.

Warning: Hefty flirting & lots of kisses!

A/N: ngl i’ve had this fic sitting untouched in the drafts for a little while now, but when jey posted that delicious back shot yesterday, i took it as a sign. enjoy! 🖤

———————————————————————————————

“you headed out for the night?” my co-worker, jayla, asks, beginning to sterilize her equipment.

i nod, untying my bun and letting my curls run free. “hell yeah, girl. i’m beat.”

she giggles, nodding in agreement. “we did have a lot more walk-ins today than usual.”

i’ve been tattooing for a little over five years now.

and while it’s the most fun job in the world, it can also be super draining.

for a little backstory, growing up, i drew every chance i got.

on my chalkboard that i’d use to teach my (very finely educated) stuffed animals, in my notebooks during boring high school classes, you name it.

and the second i graduated, somehow acing all of those said classes, my grandpa brought me to his tattoo shop daily to shadow him and learn about his samoan culture.

now, years later, he’s no longer with us and i’m studying art in college, as well as working part time at a downtown new york tattoo shop.

throughout these five years, i’ve worked on some of the biggest polynesian names in wrestling: both of the uso twins, solo sikoa, tama tonga, and even jacob fatu.

my grandpa was super close with the entire fatu - anoa’i family, so it’s a huge honor to be trusted by all of them with something that’s so important to our culture and heritage.

“hey, isn’t that big convention at javits this weekend?” jayla asks, causing me to look up from fixing my hoodie strings and nod.

“fanatics fest yeah,” i reply. “why?”

her eyelids lower into a mischievous look, as she begins moving her eyebrows up and down.

i pop my neck back in confusion. “bitch, why are you looking at me like that?”

“isn’t your lover boy booked for saturday?” she replies, poking at my side.

“first of all,” i exclaim, folding my arms across my chest. “he’s not my lover boy. we’re just having fun, that’s all.”

she hums and mocks my action, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “and second?”

“second of all,” i continue. “did you not see how many times he sold out all of his shit? that man is gonna be booked and busy.”

“girl,” she exasperates, leaning back in her chair. “that man never misses an opportunity to see you. whenever he comes out here, his ass is always walking through this door with his tongue hanging out, just waiting to get his hands on you.”

“his tongue is not hanging out!” i scold, playfully shoving her arm.

“it basically is!” she scolds back between giggles, hitting me back playfully.

i sigh, sliding my purse onto my shoulder.

“seriously girl,” she continues, getting up to throw away her gloves and ink-filled paper towels. “that man is more whipped for you than whipped cream.”

i let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “well, the energy is reciprocated. and i’d love to see him this weekend. but if it’s not possible, i won’t be mad either. he’s booked and busy. and i love that for him.”

she dramatically sticks her bottom lip out and dabs away invisible tears. “loving watching your future husband succeed. it’s adorable!”

“bitch i’m leaving!” i tease, turning towards the door.

she bursts into laughter and playfully whacks my butt. “have a good night, girl. text me when you get home!”

“i will!” i call out, leaving and letting the door close behind me.

my journey home is peaceful, barely any traffic on the highway.

and as if on cue, the second i enter the driveway and shut my car off, my text tone dings.

i send a text over to jayla, as promised, before heading inside and getting ready for the night.

———————————————————————————————

it’s been another long shift of appointments and a couple walk-ins.

i’m exhausted, and i can confidently say that the only thing keeping me going all day has been the thought of reuniting with him.

“alright i’m outta here girl,” jayla announces, gathering her car keys and purse. “have fun with your man.”

i shoot her a death glare, to which she responds with blowing me a kiss and darting out the door.

i roll my eyes, smiling, and get back to disinfecting my chair.

just minutes later, the sound of the shop’s front door being pulled open and sneakers squeaking against the tile floor make my heart stop in my throat.

he’s here.

“appointment with the finest lady in the world?” josh calls out.

i roll my eyes, a smirk plastered on my lips. “no problem. let me go get her.”

he snickers, places two starbucks cups down on the counter, and walks over, immediately pulling me in for a hug.

his woodsy, almost vanilla like scent fills my nose as i rest my chin on his shoulder.

“missed you bae,” he exclaims, his hands lingering my waist as we pull away.

“i missed you too,” i reply, running my hands through his curls. “how’s everything been?”

he nods, licking his lower lip. “been good. how bout you, ma? you look good.”

“thank you,” i reply sweetly, heat immediately rushing to my cheeks. “been busy, but i’m managing.”

he smiles softly. “hell yeah you are, baby. i’m proud of you.”

i smile back and place a quick kiss on his lips.

“got your usual by the way,” he announces, tucking a curl behind my ear, nodding towards our drinks. “you still like that shit with enough caramel to make you drop dead after the first sip, right?”

i roll my eyes, playfully swatting his arm. “you’re such a hater.”

his smile turns into a smirk, gently pulling me in by my face for another kiss.

“come on playboy,” i exclaim, taking his hand and leading us to the chair once we pull away. “let’s finish that back.”

he chuckles, stopping once we get there to remove his shirt.

my panties are immediately soaked at the sight of his body, his biceps and chest about ten times bigger than the last time i saw him.

“like what you see, girl?” he teases, flexing his arms. “been workin’ out just for you.”

fuck he’s huge.

“don’t flatter yourself big boy,” i lie, rolling my eyes.

he smirks and lays down flat on his stomach, getting comfy on the chair.

i take a seat next to him and, as i’m putting a fresh set of gloves on, he looks over, laying his head on top of his folded arms.

i wipe down the area we’re about to work on with a baby wipe, before turning on my tattoo gun, the buzzing sound immediately filling the room.

“look at you with all your supplies n shit,” he coos, watching me. “you look like such a pro, baby.”

i smile at the compliment, kiss his temple as a thank you, and pull up instagram to begin my livestream.

he whips out his phone and joins immediately, angling it against the backrest so he can watch it.

“hey everyone!” i greet my already hundreds of viewers.

a bunch of his fangirls immediately flood the comments.

Omg I know that back from anywhere! 😻

HI JEYYY 🥹

The duo is back 🙂‍↕️❤️

FOUR LETTERS ONE WORD UGH UGH YEET 😍🙌🏼

His back 🥵🥵

he chuckles, watching the comments roll by.

i begin the process, stretching out his skin with one hand and free-drawing with the other.

about ten minutes in, he joins the live as a guest to show his angle and the comments go nuts.

JEYYYYY 🥹😍

The man of the hour and he looks so fine! 😮‍💨🤤

YEET! 🙌🏼❤️

“wassup yall? yeet!” he greets them, gritting his teeth to show off his gold grillz.

i smile to myself, listening to him interact with fans.

one question catches my attention though.

“don’t yall think they would be so cute together?” he reads the comment aloud.

i look up and raise an eyebrow at the camera. “bold of y’all to assume i’d ever date his goofy ass.”

his jaw practically drops open and i snicker in response, playfully whacking his butt.

the comments laugh at my response, quickly agreeing and dissing josh for his goofiness.

he sucks his teeth, laying his head back down. “man, yall are some damn bullies.”

eventually, we end the live and i lean over to grab his face and kiss him.

he kisses back, making sure to blow raspberries onto my lips before pulling away.

“bitch you’re gross!” i yell, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

he laughs, digging his face into his arms before i can wipe it back onto him.

———————————————————————————————

“this shit straight fire mama,” josh compliments, flexing his back in one of the full body mirrors.

i smile, watching him, while taking off my gloves. “it looks amazing.”

“it really do,” he agrees, pulling out his phone to take selfies. “you did your thing with this, bae.”

i blush at the compliment, sitting back down to sterilize my tools. “thank you.”

“nah thank you,” he replies, walking up from behind me and wrapping his arms around me. “your talent is crazy, you know. gramps taught you well.”

my smile grows even wider, doing my very best to blink back tears. “that means the world to me, baby. thank you.”

he smiles and leans in, pressing a deep kiss to my temple.

i lean into his touch and reach up with one hand to hold his face, turning it to mine, and press my lips to his.

“you know i love you, right?” he asks once we pull away.

i nod, biting my lower lip. “mhm. i love you too.”

i brush our noses together before looking back down and finishing up cleaning.

by the time i’m done, josh is back in the mirror, admiring the finished piece all over again.

“you gonna let me wrap that up within the next hour?” i tease, folding my arms across my chest.

he chuckles, walking back over.

i grab some plastic wrap, just enough to cover the newest section, and stick multiple layers to his skin.

once he’s all good to go, he thanks me and puts his shirt back on.

“now,” he begins as we walk back up to the front of the shop. “how much do i owe your pretty self?”

he pulls out his wallet from his sweatpants pocket while saying that last part.

“josh,” i reply, throwing my purse over my shoulder. “babe, we do this every time. you know my grandpa never liked to charge you or your family. so i won’t either.”

he sighs, stepping closer. “baby, this shit took hours. i wanna take care of you. you deserve it.”

i shake my head, cupping his face. “it’s really okay. i promise.”

he smiles softly and leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“at least lemme take you out for some dinner?” he suggests, stroking my sides.

i pucker my lips to the side, rubbing his biceps. “waffle house?”

his smile widens, a mischievous look coming over his eyes. “you know me so well.”

i giggle as he pulls me in for yet another kiss.

“let’s roll pretty girl,” he says, holding out his hand.

i take it and we head out.

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uceyjucey Tuff. 🩸 #YeeTAF

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jonathanfatu 🩸❤️

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giannamacri 🖤💲

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[princessaffliction]

sweet nothings.

♡ info -> rafayel x you • 3.4k words • fluffy smut ♡ summary -> when rafayel returns home exhausted from a last-minute meeting which interrupted your date night plans, you decide your tired beloved deserves a little extra spoiling ♡ warnings -> MDNI, bratty as hell rafayel, crying (slight dacryphilia), overstim, handjobs, slightly too much plot for what was supposed to be smut

In your defense, the first time you make Rafayel cry during sex, it is unequivocally his fault.

Nothing about the evening is going right. First, you snap the strap on your heels and have to return to your apartment for a change of shoes. When you finally arrive to Rafayel's close to forty minutes late, you nearly collide head-first with him as he shoulders through the door. He doesn't have time to stop or explain why he's leaving beyond the words “last minute meeting, sorry,” a kiss pressed to each of your cheeks, and the suggestion that you wait for him to return. Judging by the scowl on his face, he's no more happy about the interruption to your date night plans than you are.

So much for a relaxing dinner to end the week for you both. Not that anything between the two of you ever goes to plan. In some ways its fitting that more often than not, your dates are foiled by unforeseen chaos. Maybe you'd been foolish to think this night would be different.

At least you don't have to feel guilty about being late.

You wander back and forth the span of his bedroom, alternating between basking in the warm summer breeze rising through the window and looking over a book he’d left open on his bed. It’s more of a magazine, filled with elegantly shot nature photography.

After just under an hour, the door opens and Rafayel strides through. Without a word of greeting, he collapses onto his settee in a flourish. You wait, expecting him to launch into an explanation of where he’s been, no doubt filled with his usual grumbling and colorful derision.

It doesn’t come.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, coming to stand at his side.

Rafayel sighs and drops an arm over his face.

"I’m alive if that's what your asking," he says, evidentially still capable of dramatics. "It's like the universe has a sixth sense for when I want an evening off."

He loosens his tie and tosses it haphazardly over the back of the sofa. You can't help but cringe as you watch the no doubt exorbitantly expensive silk material flutter to the floor.

His fingers close around your wrist, dragging your hand to his hair. "If you're going to stare, Miss Bodyguard, you might as well be of use."

Rolling your eyes, you oblige him and card your fingers through his hair. The violet waves glide smoothly below your touch.

"Your hair's really soft today."

For the dozenth time, you remind yourself to ask just what he uses to make it so unnaturally silky. Tara had been looking for a new hair product. Perhaps he'd have a suggestion you could pass along.

"So that means it's not always this soft, huh? And here I thought you liked my hair." Rafayel's brows pinch together. "I don't pay you to insult me, you know."

You don't bother pointing out that Rafayel doesn't pay you at all. Still, some of the tension has seeped out of his posture and his eyes flutter shut as you drag your nails lightly across his scalp. For all that he dislikes cats, in moments like this you can't help but compare him to one. Especially when your ministrations cease momentarily and he bumps his forehead into your palm, a demand that you resume petting him.

"That bad of a meeting, huh?"

Instantly, you regret your question as he tenses up once more. "Meetings at night should be illegal. What if I fell gravely ill from the cold?"

You don't bother pointing out that it's the best weather you've had in weeks. It doesn’t matter. You're certain there's something else on his mind, with the way his eyes flicker to yours before looking away.

"You feel fine to me." You press a hand to his forehead. "Clammy as usual."

His frown deepens. "Ha-ha."

"What's bothering you? You have meetings all the time. What made this one different?"

For a long moment he doesn't reply, dropping his head back against the arm of the sofa.

"Cat got your tongue?"

His eyes snap open. "You're quite the comedian tonight."

"Not a very good one apparently." You poke his cheek. "C'mon, what's got you so moody?"

He grumbles something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I've been invited to teach a summer course for promising youth at a prestigious art school," he repeats, as though doing so is a herculean effort.

"Wow, really? Rafayel, that's amazing."

He sits up, nearly hitting your foreheads together as he does. "Do you hear yourself? This is the worst thing that they could possibly ask of me."

"What? How so?" You neglect to point out that you’re almost certain he said the same thing about the last work request that was made of him.

He grimaces and shakes his head. "Kids are so loud."

"So you'll get along with them fine," you say, dryly.

"It's the whole summer. I'd be gone. For the entire summer."

"Yes, you mentioned that." You shrug. "If it’s a prestigious school and you’re the guest of honor, I'm certain that the accommodations will be up to your standards."

That's a white lie. It would be impossible for anyone to make a temporary living arrangement anywhere close to Rafayel's preferences without decimating their entire budget for the bathtub alone. Champagne tastes to say the least.

Even as you try to think of something else positive to say, you can't shake the twinge of disappointment in your chest. After all, you'd spent a good chunk of winter discussing all the things you wanted to do together this summer: the festivals and getaways. Trips to seaside cafes and museums. The exact hopes for the future you take comfort in on long nights of hunting wanderers or tackling the piles of paperwork you never seem to get to the bottom of.

"I still think it's something you should do," you say. "But I can admit that it's...a bit of a bummer too. We had a lot of plans that I was looking forward to."

"Finally you're making some sense," he huffs. "If you insist, then I'll cancel."

"That's not what I said!"

"Well, I'm still canceling." He folds his arms.

Were you to look up stubbornness in the dictionary, you're certain it would be this exact sight of Rafayel, his mouth pinched with determination.

"Canceling is not the answer."

"Maybe not to you."

"We'll just have to squeeze in a little extra fun, to make up for things."

He continues pouting, but you can see him straighten up ever so slightly. "And what is your idea of some 'extra' fun?"

"I've got time off that I need to use. Before, I'd planned on using my days this summer, but if you won't be around for part of it let's just move up the dates."

He purses his lips, clearly turning over his options in his mind. When you'd first met, no doubt he would have attempted to continue arguing, but now, he knows better. After all, if there's anyone who can rival his own stubbornness, it's you.

"Fine," he says. "But you better write to me."

You manage to keep from rolling your eyes. "I'm going to text you every day. You'll probably be sick of hearing from me."

"You say a lot of dumb things," he sighs.

"I guess you're rubbing off on me."

Rafayel opens his mouth before shutting it again. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the edge of the couch where it slips to the floor alongside his tie.

"I know we had planned to go out tonight," he says. "But I think stepping foot outside again might kill me. So if you really insist on me doing this summer program, it's probably for the best that we don't go to dinner."

That doesn't come as a surprise. By now, you were well aware of Rafayel's occasional need for solitude to decompress. You take a step back and glance around for your purse. If you head out now, you should still be able to pick up take out on your way back home and save yourself the trouble of cooking.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks.

"Er, you want to be alone, right? To think?"

"Did I say that?" He looks away. "But if you want to leave then go ahead. I'm tired anyway."

Something in the resigned yet displeased look he casts your way makes it click together in your head:

"Are you upset because you're going to miss me?"

He starts to respond before grimacing, "You're still not funny."

Evidentially, leaving isn’t the right answer tonight, but talking doesn’t seem to be working either. You walk back to the settee and step within reach, looking down at him.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” you say. “Let's drop it for now.”

Rafayel doesn’t answer but stands and unceremoniously strides to his bed, dropping down onto the plush duvet. A handful of his many throw pillows bounce off of the mattress to scatter on the floor. How he manages not to trip on a daily basis is still a mystery to you. Careful not to step on any of the intricately embroidered cushions, you make your way over and lie down beside him.

His eyes remain closed so you take the moment to examine your beloved. He really is a sight to behold. Pretty, like a statue crafted with a delicacy that would take a thousand years...and yet, as changeable as the sea itself, with movement beneath the surface. Despite the time you’ve spent together, there are moments when he still feels far away. Like a story written in a language you don’t know. Or worse, that you’ve forgotten.

He cracks an eye to peer at you, still frowning. Even among the ridiculously soft bedspread, you can read the tension in him. You reach up and cup his cheek. There’s no words that are going to fix things for now.

However, perhaps words are the not the form of communication most suited to a night like this.

Rafayel stares at you, waiting. You run your thumb along his cheekbone, down his jaw, and over his bottom lip that is stuck out in a near-pout once more. It feel as inevitable as the tide when your mouths meet, a territory so familiar you’re unsure who leaned in to kiss who.

“You can’t win me over with kisses,” he says, pulling back after a few minutes.

The dark, blown-wide look of his pupils would argue otherwise, but you refrain from pointing out as much.

“Alright.”

Rafayel leans closer and takes one of your hands, manipulating your fingers gently to pop the top button on his shirt.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try it though,” he says.

You kiss him again, rolling your eyes as you do so.

One more kiss turns into another dozen, accompanied by your fingers undoing his shirt and belt buckle. It ends with you sitting against the headboard and Rafayel laid bare. He's sprawled along the mattress, his back to your chest. Not a typical arrangement for you but tonight you can't shake the desire to smooth away some of his stress. To spoil him, despite knowing there's perhaps no better word to describe your love than ‘spoiled’ already. Not that you mind. You wouldn't change him, not for the world.

He's all long limbs like this, reflective scales surfacing as he comes back down from his orgasm. You press a kiss to the side of his head, his temple slightly sweaty. As fond as he is of messy sex while it's happening, Rafayel is less keen on the ensuing tackiness afterward. Usually one of you will think to grab a washcloth to clean up, but thinking didn't seem to be in the cards for either of you tonight.

You shift to climb off the bed and go in search of tissues but his hand on your arm stops you.

“Everything, okay?”

He swallows, throat bobbing."Again, please?"

Despite the mess on his stomach and chest, a glance reveals that he's still achingly hard. His cock lays rosy and eager against his hip. Gently, you wrap your fingers around him once more. As soon as you do he's squirming from the overstimulation. You can't tell if he's trying to rut into your touch or rid himself of it.

"Are you sure?" you ask, pausing in spite of his demand. "You just came."

"It’s not enough tonight," he pants. "More, please."

You can’t help but enjoy his desperation a little. As though he’s forgotten how utterly incapable you are of not indulging him when he looks at you like that. Like you are the sole being responsible for the push and pull of the tides. The person keeping the very world on its axis.

“So you do now how to ask for things nicely,” you say, relishing in your ability to work him up to the point he recalls manners.

“So mean.”

“Am I mean or are you just bossy?” you shoot back.

Rafayel doesn’t answer aside from a needy sound as you squeeze around the base of his cock. His head drops back onto your shoulder. Painful or not, he seems to be enjoying himself, his hips twitching to chase your hand whenever you draw it up his length once more.

“I’m honestly just surprised that you’re so worked up.”

He twists in a half-hearted attempt to bury his face in your throat. You don’t let him, using your free hand to catch his chin and force him to meet your gaze.

Rafayel looks as lovely as you’ve ever seen him. His cheeks are flushed, bottom lip bitten ruby. His eyes, though bright, are red-rimmed. Tears that haven’t yet spilled pooling in the corners and clinging to his dark lashes.

“Raf—”

He interrupts you before you can ask if he’s alright. “Please don’t stop.”

His hand covers yours as though to ensure you don’t let go, even though you have no intention too. He guides you to stroke along his cock more firmly than before. As you do, his lips part, desperate whimpers spilling free.

“Of course not, I won’t,” you assure him. “You’re really pretty like this.” The words that have been vying to slip free all night popping out before you can overthink them.

His cock throbs in your grasp. You don't bother to hide the grin which spreads across your face. Rafayel’s blush only deepens and he squirms in your arms.

You should have put two and two together prior to now. How could your beloved not like praise? After all, you’d seen the way his eyes would light up when you complimented him, even if he would deny it, or play it off as expected, no, entitled.

You were learning a lot of things tonight it would seem.

Craning your neck slightly, you lean closer so that you can speak into his ear.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting? For me to say sweet things to you?”

“No,” he says, bucking into your hand.

“No?” You let go of his cock and he whines at the loss of contact. “But look at the mess you’re making already.”

It’s true, your hand is slick with precum, more leaking down the flushed shaft. He was telling the truth before: none of it seems to be enough for him tonight. Rafayel does his best to muster a glare, though the effect is diminished by the sheer need written across his face.

“Come on, ask me,” you murmur and return your hand to where he wants you most. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is.”

The renewed attention earns you a choked out moan and fresh tears cutting their way down his cheeks.

“Please, please keep talking, I can’t—”

“Shh, of course, I will.”

So you do. You let all of the sweet things you’ve thought but not said to him run over in a babble of praise. You tell him how much you adore him. How gorgeous he looks. How good he is. How lucky you feel to be able to have him in your arms, in your life. Every single thing you would normally think twice about saying, lest they bring down a tidal wave of mischief upon you.

It’s too much for him and soon Rafayel’s shaking. He clutches at your arm, words slurred, “It’s too much, I’m going to come, fuck, I—”

“It’s alright, my love.” You lean down and fit your mouths together.

Rafayel kisses you back clumsily before letting out a bitten-off moan. He throbs in your hand, spilling his second release of the night onto his stomach with a sob.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, holding him close as he shivers through the aftershocks. For a long moment there’s nothing but the quiet sounds of the distant city and his shaky exhales as he tries to get his breathing back under control.

“Was that—”

He cuts you off. “You know how much I’m going to miss you, right?”

Even though it’s said with little inflection, you catch the undercurrent of nerves.

“I know.”

He swallows. “And you know I love you?”

“I do.”

Despite the fact that you’re impossibly close, he manages to press closer to you somehow. “So you won’t forget me while I’m away for the summer?”

“Do you really think I could forget you?”

He doesn’t answer, so you press another kiss against the shell of his ear.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here when you get back,” you say.

Rafayel lets out a long breath, the last bit of tension slipping away from him. The pair of you lay there for another long moment, before he shifts, pushing himself up with shaky arms.

“Sticky.” He grimaces as he uses his discarded shirt to wipe up the mess on his chest.

“And whose fault is that?”

Somehow, despite the fact that he’s still pink-cheeked with pleasure, he manages to look offended.

“Yours,” he pronounces, lurching up to stand on wobbly legs. “Now, since it’s your job, Miss Bodyguard, I assume you’ll come and make sure I don’t get attacked by Wanderers while I take a bath?”

"We should probably bathe together, just to be safe." You stretch and climb to your feet as well. “Wouldn’t want you to get caught unaware. You’d be like a fish out of water.”

“Still not funny,” he says, turning away, but not before you can get a glimpse of him smiling.

You slip an arm around his waist, tugging him towards your side.

“I can walk you know.” It’s a halfhearted protest as he allows himself to be led toward the bathroom.

“Tell that to your knees,” you reply. “Besides, we don’t need you to get taken out by another paintbrush on the floor like last time.”

Before he can reply you press your lips to his, drowning his witty comeback with a kiss.

Summer might not go the way either of you had planned, but if tonight is any indication, you’ll be able to make up for it.

[sparklychaossheeppp]

hiii so basically I've got a request for Jason Todd and it's like when you first meet his family like bh accident and he's like really embarrassed but they love you and it's all super fun 😭😭

Have a nice dayyy

Hello! Thank you for the request, lovely. It's highly appreciated. I hope you have a nice day as well. ^_^ This is my first time properly writing for the batfam, so please do have mercy on my soul... 😓 I think I may make another version of this later with the same idea but different occurrences.

Word count : 762

Warnings : Possible OOC, implied shorter reader, no use of Y/N, Jason and reader have a pet cat, not proofread, short

Sunlight snuck their way through the bedroom curtains to make themselves known to the sleeping pair. Jason stirs slowly from his sleep, eyebrows furrow as he seeks refuge from the sun under the blanket.

With great annoyance he sat himself up in a sitting position, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. He glanced over to the person who he had slept beside the night before, still in a deep realm of sleep. His eyes soften at the sight of them yet he drags himself out of bed to start his day.

Jason went through his usual morning routine of getting ready before heading to the kitchen, he retrieved the basic ingredients to create pancakes. He turned on the stove as he prepared his mix, pouring it onto the hot surface as his partner enters the room.

Jason’s lips curled into a soft smile as he looked over his shoulder at them. “Well good morning, beautiful.” He greeted, losing attention to the pancakes he was making.

They dragged their limbs over, eyelids barely open as they yawned. They stumbled over to watch Jason’s smooth and graceful culinary skills. “…good mornin’..” they hummed, giving Jason a lazy peck to the lips.

Jason had picked them up by under their thighs to place them on the counter, his eyes meeting their own. Jason’s eyes narrowed with determination, “mm- can I get a proper kiss?” Jason requests with a tint of teasing in his tone.

“hm. I don’t know, can you?” They responded with a raise of their brow, matching his cockiness. They did lean in however, lips connected with a sense of playfulness when, there’s a creaking heard and a gasp.

The both whipped their heads around to see Dick Grayson himself looking up at them with wide eyes and his jaw slack. “Jason?!” Dick said in a high pitched voice, hand to his chest for theatrics.

“Dick-“ Jason started, a flush consuming his face as he stepped away in an attempt to explain who his partner is.

“I’m definitely telling Bruce!” Dick announced with an shit-eating grin on his face, already retrieving his phone from his pocket. “Oh no, you’re not!” Jason exclaimed, taking off sprinting at the other man.

Jason's partner sat upon the counter, wide eyed before letting out a giggle at the absurdity of the situation they’re in. They had been aware of Jason’s family since about three months into the relationship. They had allowed Jason to decide when they were going to meet formally but, I suppose fate had other plans.

The two men had chased each other around till Jason had realized the pancakes had begun to burn. Dick was giggling maniacally as he made his escape to rat out Jason.

Jason had been rather embarrassed about their last encounter with one of the members of the batfamily… However, after a week, he finally decided to go out shopping with his beloved partner. He paced the aisles in search of where the hell they had moved flour to now..

He had finally located the flour he was on the hunt for when he heard the familiar voice of Dick along with his partners, not again…

He peaked over the side of the aisle with a raised brow. He spots Dick having a seemingly nice conversation with him as Jason walks over with his eye twitching and ears flushed red.

“Jay! We were just talking about you,” Dick informs, a pleasant smile on his face. “You should bring your partner over for dinner tonight,” Dick says, placing his hands on his hips.

Jason glances over at his partner , looking for any possible signs of discomfort or negative emotion. They meet him with a nod and content look on their face. “Fine, fine..” Jason nods.

The rest of the family had arrived before them, already in their seats that surround the table. Two chairs placed together are empty awaiting their arrival. The room was chatty up until Jason’s partner entered the room, The batfamily quickly blurted out curious questions to them as they sat down.

Jason could only sigh in embarrassment as they asked the basic questions, “how long have you been together?” “how did you meet?” “what’s your home address?” things of that nature up until Damian had inquired about their favorite animal.

“We have a cat?” They had informed, Damian gasping. “Todd, you have had a creature this entire time and didn’t tell me?!” Damian scoffs.

From there, the conversation delved into chaos. However, there was a warm, stable feeling to the room

Likes & reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

[lilliths-story-studio]

I hate her damn car.

It smells the same way she does, cloyingly sweet and everywhere in this confined space. Her navy curls have been piled into a messy bun, and all four foot, eleven inches of her is perched at the edge of her seat. Her adjustments to reach the pedals make me comfortable as a cat in a bath.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” I adjust against the discount-velvet seat, looking pointedly out the window.

Midnight had rolled into one and now hangs fifteen minutes shy of the second hour. Soft moonlight seems brighter than it should be, silver rippling over the patchwork of treetops that blanket near every undeveloped inch of these hills.

“You think loud.” She grumbles and I freeze.

Can she actually read my mind? Distaste bubbles from my stomach to my throat. No…no, too much wouldn’t have happened if that was the case. The air floods my lungs anew and I look back to find her just watching me.

“Are you even here?”

“Just trying not to choke on the gallon of perfume you soaked the car in.” I nod towards the road. “You wanna look forward, or do you just woo woo the car to and from hell.”

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?”

“Good chance.”

“What a wonder that I let you go.”

“I think that rope unraveled from both ends, sugar. Let’s be real.” She doesn’t have anything to say, and I have no interest in awkward silence. “So I’ll be real with you, I haven’t processed anything for the last hour or so. How the fuck did Bigfoot end up with your cousin?”

“Bigfoot?” I’m smarter than she thinks I am, the way she’s looking at me right now. But damned if I can remember that through the squirming of my stomach. “That’s what you got from our conversation?”

“I got a headache from our conversation, Cassy. What I didn’t get was anything that made actual sense.”

She shakes her head.

“You remember we told you to stay outta the woods at night?”

“Yep. Lots of times. You seemed a reasonable bunch until those trees were involved.” Or I started noticing holes in their stories.

“It’s because the wilderness in this area is…odd. There’s a lot of tales that get told about these woods and a lot more that don’t. After Evelyn’s friend went missing, she started looking for the stories that no one wrote down, for names no one was supposed to know.”

The car slows its roll over an old, iron bridge. Cassy pointedly presses her lips together and shakes her head as I open mine to speak.

It’s the ringing in my ear and the swirling in my gut more than her comically exaggerated moves that still my tongue. A skittering of nerves fire off like ants dancing down my skin, the sensation swelling and then abating as we reach and pass the midway point of the bridge.

It’s only once we’ve rounded two bends in the road and left the eerie threshold several miles in the rear view that the last of the ants falls away and Cassy releases a breath.

“What the hell was that?”

“Something you would have noticed four years ago if you’d ever been sober enough to connect to your nerve endings-“

“How many fucking times are you going to fish that shit up?“

“I can’t have you and your love of the bottle causing problems, Tasha.”

“The bottle I don’t fucking have on me? You came to me, remember?”

She shakes her head.

“If it’s not a problem, then it’s not a problem.”

“Then stop bringing it up.” I tap a-shave-and-a-haircut against the meager ledge intended to serve as an arm rest. “And tell me what just happened. I don’t remember any of the folktales out this way.”

“There wouldn’t be any for whatever that was - it’s newer. The natives that grew up here don’t interact with it, and they don’t have a name they’ll share for it. Say it’s something all the new folk have summoned in the last twenty years they’ve been moving out here. It’s making the place sick.”

“You passed all of your science classes, right?” I knew she had- I’d attended her graduation and congratulated her on the special-snowflake red sash that had signified something to do with super good grades.

“Did you?” It’s the sniff at the end that really sells the dig.

“Well enough for a good enough.” I flash her a wide smile and she ticks her disgust in the back of her throat.

“We haven’t named it - E and I just know we don’t use names near the bridge. It collects them and whispers them in the night.” She shakes her head. “I’m not entirely sure why yet.”

“That’s not too bad. It just says names?”

Another cutting look.

“Nothing collects names for no reason. Don’t be careless.”

“You never worried about it before.”

“Grand Junctions so far from its territory that I’m not worried. You’ll notice we were always silent or listening to music when we passed this bridge…” she trails off. Come to think of it, we had typically been out of sorts with one another anytime we drove in or out of the area. Had she just been stirring the pot on purpose, then? “Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to have a very big sphere of influence. Did you notice it drop off?”

“Like itchy water rolling off my skin?”

She presses her lips together for a second.

“Itchy water?” Up a note- she’s laughing at me.

“Get bent, Samantha. Was that it or not?”

“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ and then does a shit job of suppressing her giggles.

We slow and turn up a slender gravel road marked with a single wooden sign for Forsythia Farm. The wood itself is a light enough wash that the black letters are legible as we roll by in the dark. The handwriting would be a nicer touch if both of the hooks had been securely attached. As it stands, the sign dangles from a single point and waves like a broken arm.

I love this.

“I thought we were going to Grand Junction.”

“Not until we have her back.” She shakes her head, eyes darting about as the treeline encroaches closer to the road on either side. “My parents already told me once to drop the issue. If they realize I’m going looking for her…I won’t be getting back out of that town.”

“You know you’re a grown ass adult, right?”

“Don’t start.”

“Just pointing out facts.”

“Some of us care if we disappoint the people we love.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Sounds like a drag. Can’t relate.”

The car slams to a halt, and it’s my turn to compulsively check the inky dark eating everything past the first, closest couple of trunks. Is she really just gonna sit here after telling me how friendly these trees aren’t?

“If we do this fighting the whole time, we’re going to get killed, and your friend is going to die tied to that lot.”

Fuck, I hate it when shit she says makes sense.

“Now, do you want to try starting again? This time pretend you’re an adult.”

“Stop taking shots if you don’t want them fired back.”

“I’m trying to get this over with. Do you want to help or make it harder?”

The car starts moving again and we wind our way up from the foot of the Osage hills - about as presumptuously tall as a thousand piles of rocks can be, yet technically not a mountain range because of measurements and science I don’t understand. The drive splits to the left, where the farm sits settled atop a cleared plateau. The property itself holds only a small, dark, wooden cabin and a large, red barn several yards back from it.

Splitting to the right and away from the property, a set of worn tire tracks leads into the thicket of woods that dress the next sloping ascent.

“So where’s here?”

“It’s a farm that Thomas’s family owns and the place she was supposed to be staying before she vanished.”

“And no one thinks it’s weird his place is the last she was seen? That guy always set off my shit-o-meter.”

“Maybe you’re more connected than I thought.” She mutters more to herself before she pushes open the door. “Come on.”

What the fuck did that mean?

I snag my bag from the back seat while she digs hers out of the trunk, then follow her to the door of the cabin.

“Thomas didn’t do anything.” She says, jingling a silver key from her pocket. “Matter of fact, he’s the only other person who seemed worried when she didn’t come back.”

“Not even her parents?”

Cassy shakes her head.

“She’s been a hopeless nomad since she left for college. Nearly every weekend she and her friends were off on some kind of adventure and she didn’t always tell people where she was going. So they just assume she skipped out for summer break. Aside from Thomas, I can’t say if anyone else knew about the shit she and I got up to in those woods.”

I pause.

“Why does Thomas know? Isn’t he connected to the mayors office for that town? I thought you couldn’t trust anyone there with the whole witch thing.”

She rolls her eyes as she unlocks the cabin.

“A sickly, fourty year old man is hardly backup.”

“No, but he’s a prominent member of the tiny community your parents are so worried about. Surely his co-sign-“

“Would make people question his sanity at best. At worst, they call for a demonstration, and history tells us how kindly the aftermath treats the truth.”

My teeth click shut and she shoulders the door open.

“Has he been here since?”

“No, he doesn’t want to take any visible action or make anyone worry- folks out here are fond of their stories and they spook easy.” Cassy pockets the keys and flips on the lights to reveal the interior. “Shut the door. We’re not going out tonight- you need any kind of warding before we go any further in.”

“Warding?”

“Just shut the door.”

I do what she says, because I don’t have a good reason not to. She tosses her black, studded backpack onto the grey and brown couch.

“You’re like me- at least a little bit.” She says as she plops next to her bag to start unlacing her boots. “Never could figure out how much - it’s hard to channel drunk if you’ve never accessed your abilities before. The way that learning any new skill would be hard drunk.”

I don’t bark at her, because really what’s the point. Instead I drop my own grey bag onto the sandy hardwood and motion for her to continue.

“If you really have been sticking to beer, it might be easier. I don’t have time to teach you to do shit but ground and seal your energy, but that will make one less thing I have to worry about.”

“What help am I supposed to be, again? Right now it just sounds like extra work.”

“I remember you being pretty scrappy when the situation called.”

“Those were other drunks - not whatever hellspawn E went on a playdate with.”

“Then I guess we’d better stick with your other specialty- sneaking around.”

“I’m not the one living a double life.” I’m doing an admirable job of keeping my tone low and my hands busy playing with the new pendant hanging about my throat. “So you wanna try that again, sugar?”

“You’re light on your feet, see well in the dark and locked doors are a suggestion. Get as mad as you want. You’re the one who decided to become a cat burglar carnie.”

“Those are two separate entries on my resume, and I don’t appreciate the stereotype you’re perpetuating by conflating them.”

She yanks her boots free one at a time and drops them to the floor with a thud. Eye contact holds steady through theatrically exaggerated movements, and I’ve decided to borrow the Cheshire grin that Jax uses to piss me off when I’m in this same mood.

“My point is I want to sneak around trouble and steal E back - ideally avoiding any sort of fight.”

“Sneak where? The woods?”

“Close. The mines.” She nods to the door and wilderness beyond. I expect her to roll on but instead she stands and moves closer to the door. The otherwise golden handle has a sooty dark handprint where I’d pushed it shut. I turn my palms up- perfectly clean.

“So…what does that mean?”

“That you’re new to his home.” She turns back towards me. “Lots of things can take on the face of a friend - most of them are tricksters at best and malevolent at worst.” A small grin. “Black typically means murderous intent.”

I roll my eyes.

“I don’t want to kill you-“

“The magic speaks louder than your protests. But I know you love your friends, so I’m not worried about it.” And clearly she’s not, given she marches right back by me to investigate the other three rooms. “Kitchen, bath, and a single bed trope.”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t recommend separating until we’re done here. It’s hard enough to ward one room, let alone two.”

“I thought the cabin was warded. Magic lying door handle?”

“Magic doesn’t lie, but people do.” She waves me towards the bedroom and I cross my arms. “Seriously? You think the bridge was it?”

“What’s going to happen, Cassy? I’ve slept out in these hills before-“

“Slept walked, Tasha.”

And it’s true, but it hasn’t been an issue these past three years.

“I told you, it stopped.” I tilt my head. “Is there a reason I should be worried?”

“It wouldn’t matter, you’re not going to listen. Sleep on the couch. I hope it’s enlightening.”

She closes the door behind her and I contemplate the chance she isn’t full of shit. Looking at the couch once more I huff to myself and bang on the door. Whatever had motivated me to swallow my pride and knock dies a swift death when she opens the door with the most self-satisfied of smiles and a flourishing wave to the interior.

“I need a blanket and a pillow.”

Her smile drops and I wonder for a moment if I’ll ever enjoy painting it on rather than ripping it away again. The next moment I march past her to grab the aforementioned items and sashay my ass right back out with a determination born more of stubborn will than better sense.

This time when the door closes there’s a zip of some kind that seemingly flashes through the slats of wood. I lay my hand on the surface and find it hot to the touch. Curious, I move my hand to the knob and a lancing pain sears up my arm to my elbow.

I hear her giggling behind the door.

“Good Night, Tasha.”

“Go to hell, Cassy.”

Satisfied with our good-nights, I throw my wad of brown, fuzzy blanket and single, floral cased pillow onto the nightmare of a couch and eyeball the door. The black marring the knob hasn’t faded, and when I approach to drag a finger over the area of discoloration, the smudge spreads where the pad travels.

A small, soft thud on the other side of the wood jolts me from my study of the phenomenon. I decide it best to double check all of the locks and put myself to bed, before all of this woo woo talk and folksy, ghost story bullshit can steal my sleep as well as my better sense.

They’re just woods, for Pete’s sake.

"I'll be real with you, I havent processed anything for the past hour or so."

[juceys]

sleepy confessions jey uso

— you and jey have always been just close friends… until he confessed to you mid-dream.

pairing jey uso x fem!reader wc 1.5k+ genre fluff warnings explicit language not proofread note yall i have been on such a soft and domestic jey kick lately, bare with me lol

listened to freudian by daniel caesar and rearrange my world by rex orange county and daniel caesar

to know you is to know the twins in some shape or form. you’d grown up with them since practically diapers, thanks to your moms being such close friends.

you were there when jon accidentally kicked joshs tooth out in kindergarten, when they first joined football with joe, when they each had their first kid (as well as their second), when they first started wrestling and even now, you’re still here after 15 years of being in the wwe.

safe to say y’all have been through the thick and the thin together. hell, even sefa called you his ‘sister from another mister’. so it wasn’t surprising when you found yourself on a mini vacay with the twins and trinity, invited by none other than joshua.

if someone asked you to describe your relationship with josh in one word, you’d probably say - confusing. you two are good and close friends… sort of? your relationship with him is full of playful touches, late night talks, endearing nicknames, lingering looks… you get the idea.

and tonight after a long drive, you found yourself sharing a room and bed with him. again. but it’s nothing new, you two have always shared a room whenever on trips with jon and trinity. the only thing different this time is the fact that you’re aware of your feelings towards josh. you’re aware that you’re, without a doubt, in love with joshua fatu.

sure, you’ve always known that he’s a handsome man with a pretty face - and it doesn’t help that he has what you secretly call, a delectable bod. you remember the day he’d shown you his completed back tattoo, and you had to close your mouth so you wouldn’t start drooling on the floor right then and there.

however, things started to change within you when you realized just how gentle he was. you never realized it until trinity brought it to your attention - about how attentive and tender he was when it came to you.

he’s always listened to you, even to the things you wouldn’t say out loud. he’s always had patience with you, refusing to raise his voice even if you raised yours. he’s always been watched out for you, whether you were aware of it or not.

you realized that even through all your flaws, your good moments and bad, through the messy and the complicated, josh has always seen you as you. not who you can pretend to be. not who the world assumes you to be. just you. nothing more and nothing less.

and somehow, that’s always been enough for him.

-

the hotel rooms lights were dim, casting a low golden hue across the space, warm and tired like the two of you. you stepped out the bathroom with a cotton t-shirt wrapped around your head, hair basically dry and your skin dewy from the shower steam.

you were in some random pj shorts you threw in your bag and one of joshs oversized shirts - a black one that hung off your shoulders and had a faint smell of his cologne that hadn’t completely washed out yet.

josh was already in bed, lying on his back scrolling through his phone.

“mama, every time you get in the shower, you be taking damn near a hour,” he teased, a grin slowly growing on his face.

you playfully roll your eyes, “what can i say? i’m just a girl ya’know.” you both share a laugh as you start to settle down for the night. you take your hair out the t-shirt and throw it up in a messy bun, then make your way to turn off the last few lights before collapsing in the bed next to josh.

you attempted to create a little bit of room separating your two bodies as you shifted under the covers, which went noticed by him of course. “girl, c’mere,” he says as he pulls you closer to his frame. “y’know you get extra cold in hotels, and here you are tryna run from me.”

you felt your face turn red as you quietly thank him. your bodies were now closer than ever, his arms wrapping you tightly against him. it wasn’t new - didn’t mean it felt anywhere close to normal though. not with the way you’d wake up on his chest. or the way your stomach still did flips when he’d put his leg over yours. and definitely not the way he’d look down at you every morning when you both wake up.

josh let out a long sigh. “finally, some peace.”

“mhm,” you hum, “until you start snoring.”

he scoffed, “you the one that be snorin’ like a bear. i just breathe heavy, thas’all.”

you snort, “yeah okay caveman.”

you both talked a little while longer - about nothing and everything. a weird sign you saw someone hold the other night. trinity and jon being disgustingly cute again. the sheets being some of the comfiest you’ve ever laid on.

at some point, the both of you realized just how heavy your eyes were getting and drifted off around the same time. your head was still on his chest, and his chin was still on top of your head. neither of you moved.

-

it was late - 4:17 am, to be exact. you were somewhere between awake and asleep, not fully aware of anything. the room was dark and silent. the world outside was quiet.

the soft buzzing of your phone next to your pillow is what pulled you out of your slumber. you turned your body around to check, your back now to joshs chest, not even fully checking it as your eyes were still halfway closed.

and that’s when you heard it.

a soft, almost incoherent mumble.

“ma…” he had pulled you back closer to him.

you stilled. you were the only person he’d given the nickname to, he’d always remind you whenever you’d ask if he had someone new in his life.

you heard it again. slurred with sleep, “mmm… ma…”

it almost sounded like he was slightly groaning. like he was sighing.

your pulse jumped. eyes wide open. if you weren’t awake before, you were definitely awake and aware now.

“always been you, ma… i love you.”

um, what the fuck.

it wasn’t like you’ve said the words to each other before, but this time it felt different. what did he mean, always been you?

you slowly turned your face to face his, and your face and heart immediately softened at the sight. his lips were parted slightly, hair disheveled, eyes softly shut, brows furrowed in the kind of expression you have when thinking, dreaming about something real. something deep.

your brain started to work overtime, coming up with all kinds of scenarios and thoughts. you couldn’t even go back to sleep. how could you sleep when every time you close your eyes, you see his face? you hear his words?

by the time josh had woken up, you managed to get some rest for the past hour, although it was a very light sleep. so when he slightly turned his head, it was enough for you to stir awake.

he looked at you with a smile, “mornin’, pretty.”

“morning,” you reply, voice smaller than you intended it to be.

there was a beat of silence. it wasn’t awkward, just… thick. almost as if there was something unsaid that was sitting in the air between you two. (because there was.)

his hand came up to lightly move a strand of hair in your face, “you sleep okay?”

you hesitated. “you know you talk in your sleep?”

he froze.

“oh yeah?” to which you responded with a ‘mhm’. “about what?”

you looked up at him, searching his eyes. “you were talking about me.”

his mouth slightly parted, then closed.

“said you loved me,” your voice now barely above a whisper, “and that it’s always been me.”

josh stared at you. no teasing smile. no quick excuse. no joke to lighten the mood. just stunned silence.

“damn…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. and after a beat of silence, he continued, “i was dreamin’ ‘bout you, if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

your heart skipped a beat. “so you meant it?”

“yeah baby, i did.”

he softly sighed.

“i been tryin’ to play things cool, tryna act like you don’t make me nervous and shit,” he starts, voice steady and sure. “but you in my head… in my chest, hell, even my sleep. and i’m tired of pretending like you ain’t. you the first person i look for in a room, in a crowd. you the first person i think of when i wake up and the last when i go to bed. you’re the first person i wanna call after a match, or after a long day. even started listening to ariana grande when you’re not around.”

he looked you dead in the eyes. “i’m in love with you mama.”

you just, stared at him.

and then without thinking, you reached out and brushed your fingers over his cheeks, your thumb resting right underneath his eye.

“i’m in love with you too baby,” you whisper.

his breath hitched. “fo’real?”

“as real as your love for waffle house,” you giggle.

and that sealed it for him.

he brought you even closer to him, slow and deliberate. he kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks, then your nose, then your lips - like it was a promise.

“m’so in love with everything about you mama. gon’ spend the rest of my life showing you just that.”

[agent19mockingbird]

For her part, Natasha wasn’t surprised to hear and know that Bucky was nervous; hell, it helped to know that he was feeling the same way she was. Not that she wanted him to feel that way, but it was comforting knowing she wasn’t alone.

“We’ll have to talk to them and see, with no pressure from us. I don’t want you to want it just for me; I want you to want it for you, too. For both of us together, and for them. Because we could be doing this with say Steve and Sharon, and that would likely be a very different experience than this.

She smiled as she watched him shake his head like a dog, laughing as she got pelted with water droplets. “Mmhmm, let’s. I’m rather wrinkled,” she replied as she turned the shower off and handed him a towel, using the other one for herself to begin drying off.

————————

Bobbi’s brow furrowed as she observed him. Something about the way he was behaving made her uncomfortable, like he was going to behave in some way she already knew she wouldn’t like. She shoved that feeling down, hoping she was wrong. She nodded at his explanation, unable to stop the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Well, let’s get dried off, get dressed and we can keep conversation between us light for the rest of the night. Plus our groceries should be here by now so we have soup and grilled cheese to look forward to,” she said with a tiny smile.

She shook her head. “I get it, but let’s hold off on talking about that for now. We can sort that out later.”

Bobbi hummed softly at the kiss and began drying herself off. To find that Clint hadn’t gone to get dressed as they’d planned made her frown, that sickly feeling in her gut growing. She didn’t have to be able to read minds to know where he’d went. Bobbi wrapped and rolled her towel around herself before making her way out to the kitchen and finding him holding a beer. She knew he was upset from earlier, that was understandable. It was the fact that he hadn’t even stopped to get changed that concerned her, but she pushed that aside and took a deep breath.

“I’d really hoped I wouldn’t find you in here. Lost that bet with myself. Babe, I know that things aren’t great and that neither of us is in the happiest place right now. I’m not going to pretend to know why you have that in your hand, but I will say this: you have a couple of options. You can drink that and however many others, though I would you ask you kept it to just one and I’d prefer you didn’t drink it at all; it’s a not good way to handle things and it’s a horrible coping mechanism from when we weren’t together as well as your childhood. Your second option is that you can use me in whatever capacity you need and I won’t judge you, be it physically, emotionally or otherwise. We can sleep however you want tonight, just the two of us together or apart, or all four of us. Whatever will help you. I know I messed up by not telling you and I hurt you, but Lincoln Slade is not worth sinking into a bottle for. I’m definitely not worth that, not again,” she told him levelly, her voice wet sounding.

“Well, considering the response it usually gets me, which is you tapping out and me winning in two ways, you could say I like doing it,” Natasha smirked down at him with a wink. “And you won’t hear many complaints from me about that being your favorite place to stick your head.”

She nodded in agreement, understanding where he was coming from completely; among the list of reasons she’d been attracted to Clint initially was how hot he was. “I know what you mean. I’m nervous, too. I’ve certainly flirted with lots of women but I’ve never slept with any of them. I agree; I think making out first will help break the ice between all of us and is a good place to start.”

“Uh huh,” she replied with a teasing roll of her eyes. She tilted his head back gently and began running her fingers through his hair, making sure to get all the suds out. “I also think that if you’re nervous, and once we’ve made sure that Clint and Bobbi are okay, that you say something. They could also be nervous or scared or excited, just like we are.”

——————

Bobbi shook her head in agreement; the mission they were on was a big one and Fury had impressed its importance on them multiple times before they’d left and since. “I know, I get what you mean. I don’t want anyone to have to come in and replace us and I’m worried about that. But more importantly, I understand what you mean about trying to do that conversation here and your worries about it. What would help you relax that isn’t harmful to you or to anyone else? What can I do to help?” she asked softly.

She returned to washing her body as she watched him be silent for a long moment. She’d already pushed him to speak his mind once before and wasn’t going to do so again. Once he spoke, she frowned as she considered what he said. “That’s….hmm. I get why you might be feeling that way, and that’s understandable. Let’s table that discussion for now until it’s a better time for us to talk to Bucky and Nat about it. They should be included in it, you know? It’s only fair. And we can gauge where they’re at and how they feel about it happening or not too.”

“Mkay,” Bobbi nodded, nuzzling him for a moment. She finished washing her body and rinsed off, watching him with a smile as she waited. Once he was done, she reached out and grabbed their towels, handing one to him to use.

[thebumblebeesworld]

PAPA’S • HERE

part five • annie x smoke (ft. stack)

summary: striken with grief after losing his daughter, smoke runs away to chicago. what he doesn’t know is that annie is pregnant with his second child, at home alone, grappling with the grief and joy all at once. she drafts letters that she doesn’t send. she sends out prayers that she knows he won’t hear. but one day as annie opens her back door, she sees smoke, stooped at the grave of their daughter.

cw: grief, death of child, hoodoo, mentions of childhood trauma

a/n: can i skip elijah’s month five and annie’s month six?? or are y’all gon be mad? shoutout to @brownskincheyenne for inspiring elijah’s month six!! requested by @lizbehave

part one; part two; part three; part four.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

month four • elijah’s perspective

Once Smoke sent that first letter, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out and onto the page. Half of what he wrote were broken apologies. The other half were daily occurrences for the two twins.

He wrote every day, and he even found that writing at night when he had trouble sleeping provided him with a solace that he needed. It was like something was calling to him. A subconscious desire to document every feeling and thought he had—even if he didn’t send the letters to Annie.

He decided to honor the promise he broke, writing her every two weeks. She wasn’t writing him back, but he didn’t expect her to. He had broken something in her that couldn’t be repaired just by his words, but he still knew in his heart that she was receiving them. The mojo bag around his neck still vibrated against his skin as their connection remained tethered.

Besides writing Annie heartfelt declarations, Smoke had chosen to keep a journal.

On the pages of his notebook is where he found the calm he was looking for. He wrote all his thoughts, all his worries, all the things that made him sad and fearful. He wrote about his mother—how he wished she hadn’t died when he was so young. He wrote about his father—how he hoped he was rotting in Hell for the things he’d done to them as children. He wrote about his baby girl—how all he had ever wanted was for her to live a happy and full life; He wrote prayers that he’d get to see her again one day.

Smoke had never felt as safe as he did when he was sitting at that tiny wooden desk under the window, writing down every thought he seemed to ever have. It soothed his soul and set his heart on a course toward healing.

The peaceful energy reverberated around him, making him feel more whole as days passed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

month five • annie’s perspective

“I love you, baby girl,” Annie whispered as she sat down in front of her daughter’s grave. She ran her hands across the rock printed with her daughter’s hand. She smoothed over the dirt and rocks. “Your papa loves you.”

Annie never failed to remind both of her girls of their papa’s love. She knew he did, even if he wasn’t there. If he was there, he wouldn't fail to show it in every one of his actions. That’s one thing she always adored about Elijah: when he loved, he loved hard.

Sitting there with her legs crossed and her hands on her protruding stomach, she thought on the times in their youth when Elijah was so scared of loving someone other than his brother. He’d initially thought of it as a betrayal of everything the twins had been through together, but as he fell more in love with the hoodoo woman, he couldn’t resist.

Annie reminisced on the first time he said those three words. He was shaky, nervous, terrified—but full of youthful infatuation.

“Annie,” Elijah quipped, tone full of anxiety, voice low and deep. The girl looked toward him to see his head ducked down and his eyes pointed to the ground. They were outside of her grandmama’s house after a group outing. They’d been dancing and drinking and doing everything else young eighteen year olds do. She’d never seen Elijah so shy though. The entire night he had treated her with a certain stillness and quiet that he never had before.

“Yes, Elijah,” Annie asked, planting a hand around his jaw and lifting his eyes to meet hers. She saw his soften at the utterance of his birth name; His cheeks flushed and he smiled barely visible. She always prided herself on making his eyes and heart melt like that. All soft and sweet.

“I-I got somethin’ to tell ya’,” he choked out. The words got stuck in his throat at the way she watched him like she didn’t see the train robbing boy in him. She saw him for who he could be. Like she understood his entire story even if he didn’t have the courage to tell her everything just yet.

“Go on, suga’,” she encouraged. Annie bit her bottom lip as she took in the sight of him. Elijah was intoxicating to her. She needed every bit of him.

“Anne, I—God this is hard,” Elijah shook his head to rid his mind of those thoughts telling him to not be vulnerable. His eyes shut. His hands shook with violence and anxiety, but as he fought against himself, he felt warm palms wrap against his. Opening his eyes, he saw his once tremoring hands enveloped by Annie’s sturdy ones. His body calmed fully as he felt his stomach flutter with that delightful feeling he only got around her. “I love you,” he spoke without a second thought—earnest and confident.

Just thinking about it made her chest burn.

She missed him; She missed the innocence of their love. The death of their baby made them grow up faster than anything else had. It melted away the softness of their love. It ruffled the stillness they had found within each other.

Annie battled daily with thoughts of writing Elijah, even just to check in. But she knew that if she did write, he’d be able to read between the lines and find out about their sweet girl. Their love was just like that. He knew everything about her, and she knew everything about him—even if there were words left unsaid.

She didn’t want him to know; He couldn’t know. Not before he was ready to come home. Not until he thought it was the right time to walk back through her front door.

She could only hope that he was getting what he needed out of being away.

Annie had been feeling much better about the circumstances herself. Since she stopped praying so hard over Elijah, she was able to commune with the ancestors more effectively. They’d helped her put together the pieces she’d been struggling with. Her resentment and hatred toward Elijah didn’t fester as strong—although it was still buried deep in her body. And her fear of the unknown was drifting away.

Annie had been worried that her sweet girl would meet the same fate as her baby girl. It caused her body to ache terribly. Her mind swirled with so many possibilities of what could happen that it had begun to manifest itself in her physical health, but she couldn’t let that fear interfere with her life any longer.

Annie embraced the unknown, not going any further than praying for her baby to be healthy, happy, and safe. She took care of herself and listened to every one of her baby’s needs. She continued to eat as much as her body wanted and slept until she felt like waking. The more she listened, the more her aches went away.

“I think he’ll be home to us all fairly soon,” she spoke to her two girls. She felt more certain of that truth than she had most things recently.

At the sureness in Annie’s voice, her baby kicked against her stomach with a growing excitement. It made a giggle erupt in her throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

month six • elijah’s perspective

The two Delta twins were walking through the streets of Chicago, tracking down work. Since they’d been here, they’d both connected with the Italian and Irish Mafias, but as Smoke spent more time reassessing his life, he decided to drop all of that for a little bit more honest living.

They’d been working odd jobs: moving cases of alcohol from illegal breweries to speakeasies; being bouncers at jazz and blues clubs; hosting gambling nights for the whole tenement building to enjoy. Stack occasionally sold ass here and there, but Smoke didn’t too much agree with him on that.

Work was few and far between, but they’d saved a good bit of money to get by. Returning to Mississippi with the money they had stashed away would give them plenty of cushion to not worry about work for a while. Money stretched far more in the South that it did in the North.

As Smoke let out a grumbling sigh from being woken up to seek out work, Stack scrunched his nose up.

“Something ain’t right wit’ you,” Stack shook his head, looking his brother up and down. His glare was scrutinizing and concerned at the same time. “You been actin’ all weird recently. You sleepin’ all day, eatin’ us out of house and home, walkin’ ‘round with yo’ back achin’ like some old man, and bitchin’ and moanin’ every damn second of the day. What’s that about?”

“Ain’t ‘bout nothin’,” Smoke grumbled, clutching his notebook and pen in his hands. He’d taken to carrying it around with him as a way to quell his tremors when in public. He didn’t want to solely rely on tobacco anymore.

Stack was right, things had been growing increasingly weirder regarding his habits. As of late, he’d had some of the strangest cravings, waking up and going out into the night air just to fetch food. When he wasn’t eating, he was sleeping, creating a permanent dent in his cot. When he was up and about, all he did was complain about back pain and leg pain and foot aches.

It was exhausting.

“Shit, you actin’ like you pregnant or something,” Stack laughed heartily, grabbing onto his gut to stabilize himself. He was doing everything but rolling on the ground. “You lettin’ one of these fancy Chicago fillies fuck on you and you ain’t told me?” Smoke hadn’t so much as looked at a woman since they’d arrived six months ago. There was no woman that could peak his interest like Mrs. Annie Moore could. While Stack knew that, he still thought the joke was beyond hilarious.

But once Smoke snatched him up and threw him against a wall, his laughter seized. His twin seethed in his face, trying his best to not go any further with his anger.

“Boy, you know I been tryin’ to be less violent,” Smoke growled in his brother’s face, fists choking at his collar. He’d tucked his notebook safely into his back pocket before roughing Stack up. “You call me an adulterer one more time and I’m gon’ beat yo’ ass.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” Stack pleaded, hands shaking and legs kicking as Smoke had him lifted up against the brick wall. Stack clawed at his brother’s hand until he finally put him down roughly. Smoke threw him a sideways look before continuing on walking down the sidewalk. “But for real,” Stack followed behind his twin, smoothing over the wrinkles in his shirt collar, “you need to do something wit’ yourself.”

Smoke shrugged off his brother’s comments, but a seed was planted in his head.

He has been feeling this strange pull. His gut was reacting to something, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. There was a familiarity to it that made his stomach lurch and his heart thump with anticipation.

Something inside of him called for him to make an immediate change—not out of impulsivity but out of a soulful yearning.

“Elias,” he paused midstep. His voice carried a seriousness, but his face was light. It was a look that Stack hadn’t seen in a long time. It was full of hope and content. He also hadn’t heard his brother utter his given name for months. The sound of it forced him to listen with urgency.

“Elijah,” he replied through his nervousness, flinching as he expected his brother to react negatively.

But he didn’t.

Stack hadn’t dared call his brother by his birth name since Smoke had stood over his quivering body on that train to Chicago. He remembered the trembling in his hands and the fear that surrounded him as he stared into his brother's hurt and anger-filled eyes. He thought he lost a part of his twin that day, expecting to never get him back.

As he said ‘Elijah’ for the first time in six months, his brother just looked at him and smiled a wide and gentle smile. He sighed before speaking:

“I think it’s high time we head back home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

tagged folks are down in the replies!!

[teencopandthesourwolf]

HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

written for the @sterekdrabbles 06/06/25 challenge where the prompt words were DECAY, RUN, and BURST. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as this obviously went long lol. the title is borrowed from the emily dickinson poem of the same name.

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In hindsight, sleeping at the old house was a pretty fucked up thing to do.

Laying your head in the eternally-charred ruins of your childhood home (on nights you're lucky enough to not be fighting for your life) was like being stuck on some sort of witch cursed roller coaster. The ride traversed a perilous track that set off at A Lot, lurched through the many gut-wrenching dips of Not Enough, to then end with a showstopping loop-the-loop finish of Much Too Much.

Maybe getting used to the smell of cinder and smoke was inevitable, because after a while Derek's senses barely seemed to register any ashen notes at all.

What lurked beneath was all that was left of Derek's pack. A bittersweet bouquet of shattered memories lingered in the bones of the Hale house, like an old fracture you suffered while checking an activity off your bucket list.

He hadn't thought there was anyone to question him on how he felt about it, but if somebody were to ask, Derek would pretend he didn't want to talk about the way he'd sometimes get a fragrant burst of the long-dead Lily of the Valley flowers his mom planted around the perimeter of the property, back before any of her children were born; or how he'd occasionally scent the sharp tang of whatever edible berries his younger siblings picked from the bramble bushes found in the northern parts of the preserve, sticky fingers rarely managing to bring home more than half their findings to be baked in a pie by Derek's dad; or how every now and then he'd catch the warm haze of melted wax from the candles he and Laura sometimes made together on rainy Sunday afternoons as children, infused with homegrown spearmint and lavender, or cinnamon and moss.

But just as the smell of burning had all but evaporated into the ether, the ghost-scents of Derek's family eventually drifted off into obscurity, too.

In the end, the only true essence Derek could detect of his loved ones was the cloying stench of decay, as constantly nauseating as it was horribly permanent. The stink of it settled in for the winter, taking up residence at the back of his throat, which was the same place his heart lived these days. That mess of an organ had been beaten and broken and nailed back together so many times by this point, it didn't sit as snugly as it might have done once upon a time, taking up more real estate than it was supposed to. There simply wasn't enough room in there for both to exist, each too big and too loud. Something had to give if Derek was to keep on surviving. If he was ever going to live again.

The flashbacks—remembered sensations of being cornered and tricked and orphaned, of being goaded, tortured by proxy—were back and threatening to take over Derek's psyche completely, likely to consume what remaining sanity he had left from the inside out.

Derek had to escape, needed to flee the waking nightmare he'd found himself in. He wanted to run again, and keep running, to get himself as far as possible from the living hell this rotting place had liberated in his mind.

So he ran, and he didn't look back.

The difference this time, was it turned out Derek wasn't running away but toward something.

The storm that had been brewing all day broke at the very same time Derek found himself outside 129 Woodbine Lane, standing directly under the chronically-open window situated at the front of the pale blue and white timber-clad house. With the sudden summer downpour soaking him instantly as it pelted down in harsh sheets, he quickly breathed in the heady mix of everything that room contained, before it got washed down the drain along with the dirt and the rain.

He scented engine oil and highlighter ink, coffee, Big Red gum and Skittles, all overlaying the spice of sweat and Sliquid™ and spunk—the cheap pine plug-ins and too much Lynx Africa body spray bravely attempting yet failing to mask it. The redolence wafted down brashly, filling Derek's nostrils with a sense of not just Teenage Boy, but something more curious; a base note that recently started smelling as if it could take flight, maybe even carry off some of Derek's grief and shame on its back.

Then the wretched thing that hid behind Derek's ribcage began to unfurl itself. Little by little, like a fern uncoiling at first light, it hesitantly emerged, seemingly recognising a sense of promise rather than threat for the first time in forever.

And when Derek scaled the building and climbed inside through Stiles's open bedroom window, and as he stood there dripping all over Stiles's carpet as Stiles looked at him from across the room like he understood, and like he cared, then blessing the rest of Derek's days with the word stay, Derek found he could be brave enough to not let himself worry about it, and he answered Stiles with the word okay.

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