#but. you know. sometimes i wonder what it would be like to like

[onlyhereforthestories]

Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next.  Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

[tinytinyblogs]

Can you please do Stray kids members how they would act around the female 9th member

Welcome To The Team!

Skz has a new member and they trying to get close to you, too.

Hyung line, Maknae line (Coming soon)

💬I apologize for the delay in fulfilling this request—I’ve been quite overwhelmed with a lot on my plate and feeling exhausted. However, I’m here now and ready to assist. I genuinely appreciate receiving feedback and requests from all of you, and it always makes me happy to help. Wishing you all a wonderful day!

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Meeting Chan for the first time feels effortless and comfortable. As the leader of the group, it’s only natural for Chan to take on the role of being the bridge between you and the rest of the members. True to his gentle nature, he has an uncanny ability to dissolve any awkwardness right from the start. There's something about the way he carries himself—calm and approachable—that instantly puts you at ease. Even if you tend to feel nervous around new people, his presence reassures you. It's as if he knows exactly how you're feeling, intuitively recognizing any discomfort you might have. What stands out most is how he helps you connect with others, easing you into the group dynamic without making it feel forced. He doesn't just leave you to fend for yourself but subtly helps guide the conversation, making sure you don't feel left out. It's his attentiveness that truly makes a difference. He’s always checking in with you, making sure you're comfortable, and adjusting the interaction to suit your pace. Chan’s genuine care and effortless charm create a space where meeting new people no longer feels daunting but enjoyable and even fun.

As you grow closer to Chan, his care and affection become more evident with each passing day. What started as a gentle and considerate friendship blossoms into something even more meaningful as he lets his affectionate side shine through. He enjoys being at the heart of the group, craving connection not just with the other members but with you in particular. It’s subtle at first—small gestures like sitting closer to you or casually brushing against your arm—but soon, he becomes more open with his warmth. Out of nowhere, he’ll wrap you in a hug, a gesture that feels both comforting and familiar. His eyes often linger on you, not in an intrusive way, but in a way that makes you feel truly seen. There’s an unspoken admiration in the way he watches you, as if he’s quietly appreciating every little habit and detail about you that makes you unique. Whether you’re laughing at a joke or lost in thought, Chan’s attention is always there, taking it all in. Sometimes, he would gently caress your hair, a soft, caring gesture that immediately made you feel more at home. His tone was always soft and considerate, and he'd ask questions to make sure you were okay: “Are you feeling alright? Are you comfortable? Is there anything bothering you?”

And while he’s affectionate, his care goes deeper than just hugs and soft looks. Chan isn't afraid to speak up when something’s wrong, giving you a playful scolding or a serious talk when he feels it’s necessary. His gentle reprimands come from a place of genuine concern, always with the intention of helping you grow or stay on the right path. But no matter the situation, he’s never far when you’re in need. If you're feeling down or overwhelmed, Chan is there in an instant, offering support and encouragement, making sure you know that you don’t have to face anything alone. Through it all, his affection and care create a sense of security, making you feel valued, protected, and understood. His gentle encouragement helped you find your place within the team, and he made it clear that you belonged. With Chan by your side, you never felt out of place or like an outsider; instead, he created an environment where you could flourish and grow, surrounded by the unwavering support of someone who genuinely cared. His thoughtful presence helped smooth out any initial awkwardness, allowing you to build a strong connection with the group and become part of the family.

Minho

Minho, being naturally the most reserved person in the group, approaches new situations and people with quiet caution. During your first meeting, he doesn’t say much beyond a polite, brief self-introduction. He tends to stay on the outskirts of conversations, observing everything around him with his sharp, thoughtful eyes. It's clear that he prefers to take his time, watching and absorbing the energy of new people before diving in. With you, it's no different—he doesn’t rush to interact, opting instead to silently evaluate and adjust to your presence. In those early moments, you may notice him sitting quietly or exchanging a few words when necessary, but his true nature lies in how carefully he observes everything. He’s taking note of the dynamics and your habits, making sense of the situation before he fully steps in. Minho’s approach to connecting is slow and deliberate. It’s his way of giving himself time to feel comfortable.

After some time, you’ll start to notice subtle changes. Slowly but surely, he begins to make his way into your world. At first, it’s small—he’ll join in on a group conversation where you’re involved, adding a comment or two, enough to make his presence felt but without drawing too much attention. Little by little, these moments grow more frequent. You start seeing him join in on light small talk, his words carefully chosen but meaningful. Over time, the walls he had built around himself start to lower. What began as casual contributions to group discussions evolves into more personal interactions. One day, you realize he’s seeking you out on his own, initiating conversations that aren’t just polite but thoughtful and genuine. As you grow closer to Minho, his reserved nature starts to melt away, revealing a more playful, talkative side. He begins to open up, often filling the space with his teasing and lighthearted jokes. He loves to mess with you, whether it's by cracking jokes or poking fun at you just to get a reaction.

He has a way of spotting you from across the room and coming over to talk, even if it's about something completely random—he doesn't mind, as long as he has your attention. When it comes to helping you with dance practice, Minho’s patience and focus shine through. He’s always ready to offer guidance, paying extra attention to your steps and making sure you’re on the right track. He’s supportive but never misses an opportunity to play around, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he’ll warn you, “One more wrong step, and I’ll tickle you,” his playful glare letting you know he’s only half-serious. His combination of care and teasing makes the time spent with him both productive and fun, and it’s clear that he enjoys every moment of being around you. Even though he claims not to be a fan of physical touch, it's obvious that when it comes to you, that's far from the truth. His hands always seem to find their way around you—whether it’s a casual arm over your shoulder or a playful nudge. His actions speak louder than his words, and it’s clear that he enjoys being close to you, even if he won’t admit it.

Changbin

When you first meet Changbin, he greets you with a wide, infectious grin that instantly sets the tone for your interaction. It's clear from the start that he’s the most enthusiastic about meeting you, his excitement practically buzzing through the air. With his high-energy personality, he makes you feel immediately welcome, creating a warm atmosphere where it’s impossible to feel out of place. His positivity is contagious, and you quickly realize that with Changbin, there’s no room for awkwardness or hesitation. From that very first moment, you feel like you can lean on him. He has an effortless way of breaking the ice, making you feel comfortable despite the newness of it all. His easygoing nature shines through as he pulls you into conversations, introduces you to others, and helps you find your footing in the group. It's like he’s taking you under his wing, ensuring that you don’t feel like a stranger for long. His knack for building connections isn’t just limited to himself—he goes out of his way to help you become friends with the others, acting as the bridge that brings everyone together.

Changbin’s energy and enthusiasm create a space where you feel seen, appreciated, and instantly part of the group dynamic. Even during your first meeting, he makes you feel like you belong, as if being around him is the most natural thing in the world. Changbin had a genuine warmth about him, and though he was incredibly talkative, he was also incredibly thoughtful. He knew exactly where to draw the line, never pushing you too far outside your comfort zone. While he loved engaging with you and pulling you into conversations, he also had a strong sense of awareness about when to step back. If he noticed you growing tired or if the conversation began to lose its flow, he’d gracefully shift gears or allow you the space to take a break. As your bond with Changbin deepens, your interactions become a blend of playful mischief and genuine affection. You both find yourselves constantly teasing each other, exchanging nicknames, and engaging in spirited play fights.

Changbin often jokes about your height, laughingly declaring, “We’re definitely the shorty duo—don’t even try to deny it!” His light-hearted teasing and the friendly banter become a hallmark of your relationship, creating a dynamic where fun and laughter are always just around the corner. But beneath all the playful antics, Changbin's true nature shines through. When you’re feeling down or going through a tough time, he’s quick to shift his focus from fun to support. His primary goal becomes making you smile and bringing joy back into your day, no matter what it takes. Whether it’s through a silly joke, a heartfelt gesture, or just being there to listen, Changbin demonstrates that his care goes beyond just playful interactions. It’s this balance—between the fun, carefree side and the thoughtful, caring side—that makes your friendship with Changbin so special. No matter how much teasing or play-fighting there is, you know that when it really matters, he’s someone you can count on to brighten your day and be there for you, offering both laughter and support.

Hyunjin

When you first meet Hyunjin, he may come across as somewhat shy and reserved. He tends to keep his conversations brief and polite, not wanting to intrude or make a fuss. This initial reticence is part of his nature, and while he may not be very talkative at the beginning, he remains courteous and respectful. Hyunjin’s sensitivity can sometimes lead to misunderstandings, especially when you're still getting to know each other. This might result in a few minor disagreements or awkward moments as you both navigate the nuances of your interactions. These initial conflicts are often a result of miscommunications rather than any real friction. However, as you both spend more time together and become more familiar with each other, these early misunderstandings will gradually dissipate. Hyunjin’s true, warmer side will begin to emerge, revealing his more open and engaging personality. As you both get to know each other better, the initial shyness gives way to a deeper connection, allowing for a more comfortable and genuine friendship to develop.

Once you've had the chance to warm up and move past the initial awkwardness or silly disagreements with Hyunjin, he’s quick to make amends by engaging with you on a more personal level. He’ll start asking about your hobbies, interests, and what you enjoy doing in your free time. This genuine curiosity helps bridge the gap between you, and as you discover common interests and shared passions, you’ll find that your connection deepens. As you both open up to each other, Hyunjin becomes more expressive and involved. He’s eager to share his creative thoughts and ideas with you, enjoying the process of exploring and learning together. Whether it’s working on a project, diving into a new hobby, or just discussing your favorite topics, he takes pleasure in collaborating and spending time with you. His enthusiasm for sharing his new discoveries means that you become his go-to person for exciting news or fresh ideas.

Hyunjin’s approach to friendship is rooted in a desire to connect and grow together. He loves finding new ways to explore and learn, and he values having someone to share these experiences with. When he comes across something new or inspiring, you’re always the first person he wants to tell. This constant sharing and collaborative spirit make your relationship with him not only more meaningful but also filled with creativity and mutual support. "Don’t be silly—I told you to wear mine,” he says with a playful smile, tossing his hat in your direction. Sharing is something he truly enjoys, and he’s always happy to offer advice or lend a helping hand whenever you need it. His willingness to share extends beyond just material things; he also values open communication and turns to you whenever he needs someone to talk to. Whether he's seeking guidance, sharing a personal thought, or just needing a listening ear, he feels comfortable confiding in you, appreciating the support and understanding you provide.

[love-of-the-red-star]

Interlude I: Kakavasha

Warnings: Discrimination and heavily implied racism

You were an enigma, even to the other Avgin.

“She appeared out of nowhere.”

“Should we trust her?”

“She looks like one of our own.. and she seems harmless enough, I think we should trust her.”

“Are you sure about this? If she’s with the Katicans we could be in danger.”

The voices whisper and hiss, only slightly muffled by the barrier of a tent with little Kakavasha hiding behind some of the crates.

It made sense for the people, including his sister, to suspect you, even just for a little bit. But to him it didn’t make sense, you had the same hair, you had the same eyes, and you wore pretty clothing unlike them or the Katicans.

Kakavasha was one of the children who were a bit more subtle in their adoration of the patterns of your clothes, his eyes innocently tracing each one of them to see where they begin and where they end.

He learned that your name was Delia from the whispers of his mother and sister on the light of the campfire and the skies of their planet. He’d peek sometimes when his sister brought food to your tent— a simple stew, the same one he knew he would also eat for supper.

He observed, and noticed you didn’t do much of anything at all or even move. Something about you felt a little wrong, felt… weird. At first glance, nothing was wrong, you looked just like him, same eyes, same hair. What was actually wrong with you? He didn’t know, and he felt guilty for thinking of you that way the moment you had given him a sweet smile.

Surely, you would not be a traitor. You are Avgin like him, bears the same eyes, and the gentle smile his mother and sister had.

Kakavasha decided he wanted to speak to you, and he never regretted that decision.

It had felt so wonderful to be graced with stories (he never really questioned how you knew them) of people from afar, of people who persevered in their strife. The more stories you had told him, the more of hope and desire of true freedom grew inside his heart.

Kakavasha was just a child, but much like the older Avgin, he too wanted to be free, to no longer be gazed upon in mockery or jealousy, to no longer have the threat of his life taken simply for what he was born as.

When you both play, he always wins. His luck dictates for him to win.

It didn’t matter whether it was cards or hide and seek— the only game you’ve beaten him at was something called chess. He vowed to be smarter than you when he grew up after that, as you had said the game did not rely on luck.

It hadn’t occurred to him then that in the short two months you were with him, you were indirectly teaching him to play others as his pieces; to plan, to think outside of the box and to not rely on the thrill of a gamble. He remembered you mainly because you gave him good memories in your short stay and the lessons you imparted to him in the form of your stories.

His luck always aided him. It did when you came, it did when the Katicans invaded and the Galaxy rangers came, and it did when he wanted to get the attention of the IPC.

Mr. Boothill never really ended up liking his decision to join their ranks, and they had fought over it, but the cowboy conceded once he heard the Avgin boy’s reasoning.

He needed power and an extensive connection to help his people and to find you. The job of a Galaxy ranger would not grant him that influence, and another reason was simply because it was a somewhat.. safe outlet for his vices.

The voices of the Katicans still haunt him even though years had already passed.

Lucky boy, they’d sneer, jealous and mistrusting.

He was fine if people did not trust him; it already came with being an Avgin, being an employee of the IPC would not really change a thing. Besides, he wasn’t noble (at least he thinks he is not noble— that he is dirty, as free as he might be now), and he doesn’t think he can follow through with the strict code and creed Boothill swore himself to.

Kakavasha knew you and his sister would disapprove of the thoughts he directs to himself, but neither you or her are not here to hear anything. You’re not here to see.

“Still no leads?” He asked over on the other end of the line, his voice now taking a much deeper tone as it had been eight years since you left.

He’s an adult and a stoneheart; things he didn’t know he would become back then when he was just at the cusp of puberty and at war. He had his fair share of struggles too after that— the discrimination against his people never really stopped even after the killings did.

Some of them were still sold, were still seen as objects to be owned, an exotic prize.

He can’t gain power if he remained fully noble and good, and he can’t find you if he had no power and wealth. In order to help his people and himself, he resorts to joining the IPC.

“No, we couldn’t find any trace of the person you want to know about.” The person on the end of the line replied to him as his eyes traced over the stamps he’s put on a board in search for you.

It was as if you never truly existed in the first place.

He gave a hum of acknowledgment for the other person in the call and hung up, he doesn’t take this as a sign to stop though.

“Kid, you sure the girl you’re looking for is really out there?” Mr. Boothill asked him, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as he too looked at the papers and red strings interconnecting them together. “Asked around a couple of friends and they haven’t seen someone like this leave on a ship—“

The cyborg’s pause made Kakavasha blink.

“You remember something?” He asked.

“Kid,” he didn’t like being called a kid now, but he lets Mr. Boothill call him that out of respect. “Mind telling me what the hell your girl was doing before the festival again? You mentioned she would go missing, right?”

“Yes, if I’m remembering it correctly, she would disappear every night when she thought I was sleeping. She’d…” Kakavasha’s brows furrowed. “Get out of the tent, then walk back in exactly six system hours after. I knew the time because I often counted how many times the hour glass would run out, and I would make a bet on how many hours it’d take before she comes back.. of course, I was always right.

“What does that have to do with this?” He asked.

“You ever thought how the hell we managed to find your planet?” Boothill scowled. “Just a feelin’… but I think your girl.. isn’t exactly a girl.” Kakavasha knew enough to believe the man, having known he had traveled many places and lived many years.

“I’m not quite sure if I follow…” Kakavasha trailed off.

“I can’t blame you, even to this day I’m not sure what the fudge terrorized our ship either.” Boothill sighed gravely with a shake of his head. “It’s just a theory, but your girl— Delia, right?”

He nodded.

“I think it might be the same thing that summoned us to your planet.” His scowl deepened. “Listen, we got points. You said she came out of nowhere, none of the Katicans knew this girl, none of your family knew this girl, she felt weird, knew stories and stuff she wasn’t supposed to know, and left for six hours every night for weeks til your birthday came in? That girl was no human.”

Your image in Kakavasha’s head warped. “A masked fool?” He asked, hesitantly.

“No no, I don’t think those shirt bags would bother to be so benevolent. And I don’t think they’d be powerful enough to scare some of my friends that they decided to go to a doctor.” Boothill inhaled and exhaled. “It’s probably something worse, I dunno.”

How could you be bad? If he’s understanding what Boothill is getting at, then you were the one who set the Avgin free from the Katicans, the one who ushered in help when the IPC did not offer his people aid.

If you were not an Avgin like him, what were you? It’s established as of now that you weren’t exactly a person— hell, Delia probably isn’t even your real name.

Then, he remembered freedom.

It was a thought that came in like a stroke of luck as he gazed upon the patterns— the one he managed to identify as freedom quilts displayed hanging on Boothill’s wall.

The cyborg followed his line of sight and snorted. “Oh, that. Given to me by a friend as a souvenir two weeks ago from a city that devoted themselves towards this new Aeon.. Libertas, I think their name was. Don’t some of your people follow that Aeon now too?”

“Yeah, they do.” He remembered some of the adults muttering prayers to this Aeon— to give them strength, to thank them for being the representation of what they wanted. They prayed in the same way they would pray to the mother goddess, there is no tribute, there is no statue, in a way some of them also thought of Libertas as Fenge Biyos herself, although Kakavasha thinks that Xipe may be a closer comparison if one were to look closely.

Libertas had been recently introduced some six years back through a dream a few of his people had, and suddenly he felt dumb.

Kakavasha laughed, exasperated at himself as Boothill looked at him strangely.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Boothill’s nose wrinkled as Kakavasha calmed his laughter.

“Thanks for giving me a good knock to the head Mr. Boothill.” He began, smile stretching wide. “The answer to the mystery was under my nose the entire time! Goodness, I feel pranked.” He grinned, Boothill’s concern grew.

“The hell?” He muttered out.

“That cloth.” The Avgin pointed. “It’s the answer this entire time because it’s the same pattern Delia wore.” The more he gave it thought, the more it began to make sense.

Of course you’d wear the pattern of freedom on you.

Kakavasha smiled, gently and happily this time as he looked at Boothill with a sense of accomplishment. “Mr. Boothill, I guess we found the girl.”

————————————

JSHDHSHSHS Posting this utter word vomit rn, and yes this takes place in the same universe as Aeon reader, though this is sort of a POV exclusively by Aventurine— there will be interludes for other characters too in the future, but for now please enjoy.

I would also like to add that this remains to be a gender neutral reader insert, the reader taking on the form of an Avgin woman was purposeful.

(This is heavily unedited and written at three am by a very sleep deprived mf)

[wandaslovey]

Hey, just wanted to say love all ur mommy Wanda content and can’t help but reread them all the time.

I was just wondering if u would wright something along the lines of reader injuring her leg some how, like a sprained ankle, and is having trouble walking on it but is to stubborn to rest up and not walk on it. Hence mommy Wanda having to take manners into her own hands, however u wish to interpret that.

Possibly with praise sprinkled in plz

If not it’s all good :) 

Her Stubborn Girl

a/n: hi nonnie!! thanks for the request! hopefully this (sorta) lengthy drabble is the sort of thing you were looking for :))

a/n: i wrote this in 45 minutes so please forgive all spelling/grammar errors thaaanks🫶���🫶🏻

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

you fumble with your keys, almost dropping them twice as you all but wrestle with them to stick it through the lock. you were tired physically and mentally. you had three in-person college courses every wednesday, and now being 4 weeks into the semester, you were seriously regretting your decision to be an “over-achiever.” your ankle hurt like a bitch. it was still healing from a sprain, but you hated walking around with those stupid crutches. you’d be damned if you drew more attention to yourself any more than your wrapped ankle already gave away. you finally enter your shared home with your girlfriend, wanda. you saw that her car was parked in the driveway, so she must have decided to work from home today. you huff, tossing your keys on the little table beside the door, carefully chucking your shoes off. you hear wanda’s feet padding against the hard wood floors to the kitchen. you mentally curse yourself as you know she’s going to immediately notice that you walked to your classes today with no crutches. you had hoped you’d have time to go and grab them from where you left them last but, no such luck.

“hi sweetheart, welcome h—“ wanda pauses as she rounds the corner, taking in your appearance and the lack of what should be the accompanying crutches. you offer her a weak smile and turn to get a water from the fridge, not in the mood for her to berate you for your carelessness.

“Y/N! did you seriously go to your classes today without your crutches??” she walks up to you from behind, her arm swiftly wrapping around your back to pull you carefully to the table. you sigh, running your fingers through your hair. you knew how sensitive she was when it came to your health and well-being. “yes. my ankle is almost healed,” you say to placate her, though you know putting so much weight on it today surely didn’t do you any favors. you could feel a throbbing sensation shooting up your leg, even though you were now sitting down. wanda takes the seat next to you, gently lifting your hurt ankle and settling it in her lap. “almost healed my ass…oh honey, look at it! it’s all swollen!” her fingers gently caress the area over her careful wrapping job. “you— stay right here.” she says, her tone chiding. she gently sets your leg to rest on the chair as she gets up to retrieve an ice pack.

she comes and sits back down, resettling your foot in her lap and gently placing the ice pack around your now extra swollen ankle. you suddenly feel a little bit guilty, knowing that you hurting yourself hurts her just as much—maybe even more sometimes. you didn’t mean to upset her. your shoulders slump forward, an apologetic look on your face as she looks at you with nothing but sternness. “i don’t take kindly to you not taking care of yourself Y/N. you know that.” your posture falls, the guilt weighing even heavier on yourself as her words affirm your suspicion. “i’m sorry, mommy.” you use her honorific, hoping it would help in smoothing her over.

your apology seems to fly in one ear and out the other as the firm expression remains plastered on her face. “you’re not going to put any more weight on this ankle of yours for the rest of the day. do you hear me?” you look down. avoiding her gaze as you nod your agreement. she grasps onto your chin with her thumb and first finger, lifting your head back up to look at her. “words. i need to hear you say it.” her grip on your chin is firm and you find that your previous defiant attitude when you first came home had all but vanished into thin air. “i won’t put any more weight on my ankle for the rest of the day,” you say quietly, your lip slightly pouty and your eyes wide, full of sincere apology. “good girl,” she nods, releasing her hold on your chin. she takes pity on you, knowing that she had scolded you enough already.

you sit in comfortable silence for several moments, her still holding the ice pack to your ankle. “how about we watch a movie together before i finish up my work for the day? then i can make us some dinner and you can tell me all you learned in your classes today.” you smile, quickly agreeing with her suggestion.

you move to stand, but she grips onto your foot to keep it there, giving you a warning look. “sorry..” you quickly readjust into your seat, remembering your recent promise to not walk on your bad ankle the rest of the day. she stands up, settling your leg back over the chair. “where did you leave your crutches?” she asks, looking around the room for them. you whine, not wanting to see or use those stupid things ever again. “don’t make me use those. i hate those things. they just make it more difficult to move around and they hurt my armpits..” you complain, your voice sounding petulant like a stubborn child.

she rolls her eyes at your tone, a small affectionate smile tugging at her lips before she suddenly reaches down and pulls you up into her arms. you make a small noise of surprise, but she makes no moves to put you down, instead carrying you to the couch that’s in front of the tv. she settles you onto the cushions, lifting both your legs so your feet were resting in her lap.

she lets you choose the movie and you put one on that you’ve both seen many times together. throughout the movie she’ll glance over at you, smiling kindly whenever your eyes meet hers. somewhere towards the end of the movie, her hands begin massaging your uninjured foot but you find the sensations felt more tickle-y than anything else. you squirm slightly in your seat, your foot twitching in her gently grasp. her lips curve into a knowing smile as she takes notice of your fidgeting.

“does that tickle, detka?” as she asks, she lightly scratches her fingernails over the arch of your foot. you press your lips together, unwilling to give her the reaction she was looking for.

“no,” you say stubbornly, barely glancing in her direction as you opt to keep staring at the screen ahead.

“oh, so you don’t mind if i do this then?” her fingers then move up your foot, tickling the sensitive little spaces in between your toes. you try to jerk and pull your foot back but she was quicker than you—using her other hand to firmly hold your ankle in place. a low whine and a stream of reluctant giggles bubble past your lips as her fingers scratch at your toes. “what’re you laughing at, huh? i thought you said this didn’t tickle…” she teases, keeping up her playful assault on your poor foot for a few more moments before stopping.

she leans closer to you, kissing you sweetly as she gives your foot a soft squeeze. she looks at you, love and adoration evident in her gaze. you melt under her affectionate look, feeling that warm fuzziness seep into your skin and brain.

“Y/N, i don’t ever want to see you without those crutches until the doctor gives you the all clear. if i do see that, you won’t like what i’ll have in store for you.” she turns more stern again for a moment, making sure she gets her point across. you decide to tease her a bit, her little tickle attack making you feel a little giddy still.

“like what? you’ll spank me?” you smirk slightly, knowing that that particular punishment isn’t normally so bad.

“oh no.. no, no. i know you enjoy your spankings far too much, my darling. i was thinking more along the lines of writing me 500 lines stating ‘i will take care of myself and obey my mommy.’”

she mimics your expression, also smirking as she knows you and how much you hate writing lines. you groan and her smirk stretches into a victorious smile.

“how about i throw in a sweetener? if you be the good little girl i know you can be, i’ll let you choose your reward once the doctor clears you.” her offer instantly makes you perk up, your eyes lighting up as several ideas instantly pop into your head.

“really??” you ask excitedly, almost bouncing in your place on the couch. she chuckles, nodding her head. “really, really.”

[gguk-n]

if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??

She doesn’t like cars

{Reader’s POV}

I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.

I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing the milk when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.

We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.

We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with extra races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.

Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?

Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.

My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco, I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.

“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

[lumosinlove]

Write Me In

Part Five

~

His office felt weird. New York felt weird. Even being with Cassie felt weird. Leo was so groggy in his real life that sometimes, when he was washing his face or sitting in a meeting or grabbing a bagel for lunch, he wondered if he had just been sleeping that whole time with Finn and Logan. He wouldn’t put it past himself to dream up something like that. Leave it to him to think making dinner for two of the biggest names in the music industry was a daydream. And the kissing, of course, but he spent far more time thinking about salt water in Finn’s hair and the way Logan looked walking around the markets. It was all smeared gold in his mind. And then there were the dirty dreams which he kept accidentally thinking about in meetings.

The article was going to lead this month’s issue, which meant it would come out right as Finn and Logan started up their tour again. A crew was being sent out to Nice for the cover shoot and Leo had been so jealous when he found out that he’d had to excuse himself from the meeting for a moment. He missed them. He probably scrolled through their messages too much.

The thread started when Leo had settled into a cab and opened the app to text them that he’d landed, only to find an incoming FaceTime call interrupting him. Leo had saved their numbers under their initials—as if that would really fool anyone. So, when Finn’s first FaceTime had popped up, he’d been more than surprised to find difficult little rock star calling him instead, complete with a photo that Finn seemed to have taken himself—him and Logan basking in the sun, hair wet from the ocean and cheeks smushed together.

Leo had answered with, “and what’s Logan saved under then?”

Finn had just grinned and ran off screen—presumably to grab Logan’s phone because a second later, Leo got a text of !! from grumpy<3

Leo figured that was subtle enough to keep. He’d pushed his headphones into his ears and let Finn’s voice fill his head as the city rose up and greeted him in its sunset.

Somehow, without so much as a ripple, talking to them had started feeling like talking to old friends. Once a day. Twice a day. Photographs of their lunches and messy work spaces in between. When Leo received his fist voice memo, he’d had to lock himself in the bathroom at work and breathe a few times before hitting play.

“Hi, Le,” Finn’s voice said. “Okay—we’re writing today. Lo, hello, say hi.”

“Hi, hey,” Logan said, then let out a wicked cough. “Sorry, Finn made me do one of those ginger shots and I’m in hell.”

Leo covered his laugh with his hand.

“Shut up, it’s good for you,” Finn replied. “Okay, anyway. So, this is called—oh, I’m gonna be on the piano. But this is—and I’m gonna try to play it straight through.”

“Stop interrupting yourself,” Logan said, then it sounded like he got closer to Finn’s phone. “It’s called Neon Signs and it’s off of the new album, and we know your editor wanted you to hear one more song for the piece so—ouais. Go, Finn.”

“I was going to say I’m on the piano and on the album it’s also piano. So. There.” He laughed and played a few chords. “Okay. It’s about one of the times when we almost got together, but we didn’t. We were at a bar that we weren’t old enough for.”

“And Finn got us stuck outside because they wouldn’t let us back in,” Logan said.

“Fool them once, and all that,” Finn cut in.

“It was freezing.” Logan’s voice, then a pause. “And I kissed him.”

“Again,” Finn said, laughing. “Anyway, spoilers. Here we go.”

There were a few seconds of dead air. Just Finn breathing. Leo pressed his headphones against his ears and kicked up his volume in time to hear Logan whisper something in French and Finn hush him.

I wanted you to meet me outside.

We’re not old enough to drink, no, not quite.

And leaving this bar means risking getting stuck out in the cold.

But I said ‘follow me’ you said ‘all right.’

Pulling up your hood against the frost bite.

And now that we’re here, there are too many things I want you to know.

But somehow I can tell tonight is not when you’ll be told

That just the look of you beneath that neon sign

Sure is something to behold…

It’s soft and blue…

Like me and you…

Maybe I’ll do this forever,

Only kiss me when it’s snowing.

Cause at least it isn’t never,

Though I can’t see where we’re going.

If only that light from that neon sign

Made you see me

Just as brightly

Oh God

Where’s my,

Neon,

Bar sign?

One that you can read.

Put it over me.

Bathe me in signals and the arrows pointing where I want to lead.

“Oh,” Leo said softly to himself—reacting to the lyrics, but also to Finn’s piano. It was a meandering, sad tune. As if even the music wasn’t sure what its next note would be. The song took them out of winter next and through to summer. Into humidity, and strings lights and patios and dorm rooms, sweltering with the door closed and no AC. A goodbye—was this them going to college? And it was Logan singing. Fall and desperate for something to last. Finn fumbled a little on the piano, cursed softly, and despite the next sad lyric, Leo could hear Logan smiling. Instead walked into my own past. You’re sitting on the bed and I’ve never felt less or more alone.

Leo listened to it four times. It was hypnotizing. Yes, he knew the story. He’d been given the precious task of telling the story—but they were telling it, too.

Meanwhile, the article was going through drafts and drafts. He’d fought hard to keep the section about Logan’s market in. His editor hadn’t seen the relevance, and maybe Leo’s relevance wasn’t entirely music-based, but those markets were in the songs. Maybe not in so many words, but Logan was as gentle as his voice could be when he was there. He stood still in that space, listening to the rhythm and thrum of the people around him.

Sending cover shoot to you without me :/ Leo typed out.

Finn replied almost instantly: I’ll refuse to pose until you arrive.

Then Logan: I will lock them out.

Ha, Leo wrote.

No Ha. It’s my house.

I’m at the office—in the final meeting for the article. He thought for a second, then smiled as he typed out. Everyone’s so happy for you.

You are coming to our first show, Logan typed out, and then a few seconds later, ? accompanied it, as if Finn had forced it out of him.

I’m coming to a show. Not sure when yet, Leo said. I’m on another project and have to finish it up before—

His eye caught on his phone’s clock. Jesus. He’d been in here for ten minutes texting like a teenager between classes. Before what? Before I can come back to you. Before I can come home, before I can come back because I miss you.

The thrill that came from being able to know he missed them because he knew them was strong.

—before I can make it, he finished. Have to go back to meeting now

Finn sent him five rows or pink hearts, Logan said, we miss you, and Leo sat back down in his meeting with a smile on his face that earned him weird looks. Cassie stared at him until someone asked her a question.

~

“Okay, so you’re gonna spill all your beans now.” Cassie jabbed him gently with her fork at lunch. “Like. Right now.”

“I don’t have beans.” Leo tilted his bowl to her. “This is my mama’s chicken salad recipe. Want some?”

Cassie groaned. “Just tell me why you’re grinning at your phone like an idiot every chance you get!”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you are.”

“I’m not, I’m not.”

“Yes, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cassie grabbed onto his arm. “Tell me.”

“I’m excited for them,” Leo said. “That’s all. I’ve always looked up to them, and this is a big deal.

“So we are talking about Finn and Logan?”

Leo froze, caught. “Oh.”

It wasn’t his fault. They filled every little space of his mind. And if there was somewhere they couldn’t reach, they pressed up against that part, all warm and insistent.

Cassie threw her head back and squealed. “Leo. Tell me, tell me—”

“Oh-ho my God, they kissed me.”

Cassie stared at him, voice cutting off. Leo slapped his hands over his own mouth.

“You don’t know that,” Leo said quickly, just as Cassie made a soft, breathy sort of screeching sound.

“Wh-at?” she set her fork down with exaggerated precision. “What did you just say?”

Leo glanced around the courtyard they were in, but they were alone. In the shade, sun dappling down on them, and alone.

“They?” Cassie’s hand on his sleeve twisted the fabric. “They kissed you?”

He hadn’t meant to say a word, but the knowledge was like a fire inside of him. Being wanted like this. Being wanted by them.

Cassie started laughing, surprised and delighted. “Leo.”

“Yeah, they—apparently, um.” Leo shook his head. He didn’t even know how to say this. “They’ve been tracking my career since I just had the blog, and we were out by the fire pit and we almost—but we didn’t. And then we talked and I told them about Jack—sort of.”

Cassie’s blue eyes went wide at that, but she stayed quiet.

“And they sort of got why I was saying no.”

“You said no?”

“At first, at first.” Leo pushed his lunch away and dropped his voice. “Okay, okay, okay, sworn to secrecy.”

She squealed again through a shut mouth and hit him repeatedly in the arm.

“So, Nice,” Leo said. “Logan’s house.”

“Yeah, fuck you, by the way, meant nicely but with jealousy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But, so that night happened where they made the move a bit—”

“What does that even mean?”

“Mm, hard to explain. They were actually—” Leo’s laugh interrupted his words. “They were so bad at it.”

“Finn O’Hara is bad at making the moves?”

“Only when he means it, apparently.”

Cassie’s waved him on. “Okay, more, I need more.”

“So, we talked it out at the markets.”

“Ah. That’s why you like those sections so much. It’s all coming together.”

“Shut up.”

“And they kissed you there?”

“No,” Leo said. “Logan kissed me, just once, and um…” Leo bit back a grin. “And then later, Finn. Mostly because—I mean we said we’d take it slow and Logan was just keeping that promise, but I may have lost some resolve with Finn because—fuck, because.”

“He’s Finn O’Hara,” Cassie said. “I think ‘fuck, because’ is a fine reason.”

“And that’s when he said they want me to come back once I’m off their project. I mean, I know I have the follow up piece but…then I’ll be done.”

Cassie had her chin in her palm, the way she sometimes did when she was thinking. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

She sat up straight. “Both…of them?”

Leo opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Honestly, I haven’t been even…feeling strange about that. Is that weird?”

“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I mean, not if it’s working. You’re not, like…jealous?”

“No,” Leo answered. It was the truth. “I know I probably should be.”

“They are basically high school sweethearts,” Cassie said. “Like, this article, the way you describe them…That’s soulmate shit right there. I don’t mean you don’t fit with them, I’m just…”

“I know where you’re coming from, but…” Leo sighed, smiling. “And I went there, too, but it’s just not like that. I like the way they are together. The way they treat each other. I like it as much as I like the way the are with me.”

“Holy shit,” Cassie said, then laughed. “Oh man.” She pushed her lunch aside in favor of pulling her laptop out of her bag. “Holy shit, holy shit, which show do you want? Which show, Le, I want to book that all out right fucking now.”

“It’s one night.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be a hell of a night.”

Leo reached forward and grasped her hand. “Don’t even joke about that with me, I’m a wreck.”

“Yeah, well, you need all the help you can get. You were there for, what, three weeks, and you just kissed?”

“I am—”

“No, I commend you, cowboy, you just have eons more willpower than I do.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Now, which show?”

Leo had been thinking about it. Of course he’d been thinking about it. He pictured them in different cities. Walking different streets. But, in the end, there was no question. Leo wanted to be where they had figured everything out. Maybe they’d figure out each other, too.

“Italy,” Leo said. “I want Italy.”

~

He was nervous to see them, that was for sure. Cassie always followed through on her work quickly, but Leo felt like he had blinked through being home before he was staring down at an empty suitcase again. Italy. Milan. It would be warm. He’d be there for a week. Something casual for the shows. Something nice for press events. Something comfortable for…mornings? He stared in his underwear drawer for too long. When was the last time he’d had to care what he looked like in his underwear, much less what his underwear looked like. That turned into staring at his t-shirts for too long, only to pick up his Heartthrob O’Hara t-shirtand fold it into his suitcase. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and googled Logan Tremblay t-shirt. They weren’t that good. Grainy photos just plastered on fabric. He typed in Night Swimming lyric t-shirt. There were hundreds, but Leo had fun scrolling. He’d probably added too many things to his cart when he finally found what he was looking for. The shirt was white with four words in forest green on it.

OH MY

GREEN EYES

Leo bit back a smile and ordered it to be delivered tomorrow.

The next night, he was cooking dinner and squinting at his iPad, when the recipe webpage disappeared in favor of an incoming call.

“Milan?” Logan asked when Leo answered.

“Yep,” Leo said. He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Is that okay?”

“That’s longer,” Logan said.

“I know,” Leo sighed. “But it’s when I’m in between projects and can write your follow up.”

Finn mirrored his position, squeezing into the frame beside Logan. “Why don’t you come here right now? I’ll write you a note, get you out of school. Photoshoot tomorrow, you can watch us kiss on camera.” Finn snuck a hand out to grab Logan’s chin when he wasn’t looking and turned his face to kiss him, even if Logan was smiling too much to make it last.

Leo leaned forward. “I…As tempting as that is...”

“I liked it when we were your job,” Finn shot back. “You were around all the time.”

“Oh yeah? Not me,” Leo said. Finn blinked, and Leo fought a smile because he’d got him. “Kissing subjects is…”

“Fun?” Finn said. “A right we may exclusively reserve?”

Logan looked over at him with a smile and Leo was tempted to take a screenshot. He didn’t know how that would go over. He’d never taken a photograph of them himself. He knew that spooked some celebrities. In the beginning, he’d thought he’d die if he offended them. He still felt like that a bit.

“Shut up,” Logan said to Finn. “We don’t want to be Leo’s subjects.”

“I was kidding.”

“Listen,” Leo said. “It’s a right you can reserve, I’d just prefer you do it as you and not as Night Swimming.”

“Deal,” Finn said. He put his palm over the camera briefly, as if they had shaken on it. “What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking dinner.” Leo said, mimicking Finn’s sing-song—and then realized he’d basically just sung in front of Finn and tried to forget about it. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to come back,” Logan said.

Leo arched a brow. “To cook you dinner?”

“Non,” Logan laughed. He rested his chin on a palm, and Leo got basically an entire screen full of those green eyes looking over—him, he realized. Logan’s gaze darted over his face like he could do it for hours. “Other things.”

Heat washed over him, and Leo bit his lip. “Hmm…Play me more songs?”

“Can do, Sunshine,” Finn said.

They kept him company while he finished cleaning up, taking him through the packet they’d been sent concerning their photoshoot tomorrow.

“We’re doing it down by the sea,” Finn said. He was lounging on the couch, Logan at his feet holding a cup of tea. “And some house shots.” He tapped the leather couch. “Probably right here. Or the kitchen…Well, if it’s the kitchen, I know what I’ll be thinking about.”

Leo laughed as he shut his dishwasher. “Yeah, that kitchen gets a lot of action when I’m there.”

“Not when I’m there,” Logan said.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Finn said, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “We’ve got a pretty good track record in Italy, don’t we?”

~

Leo didn’t sleep much that night. He usually didn’t before a flight. Something about the anticipation. Not that this was bad anticipation. He let himself drift and think, rather than fall and worry. Still awake, but lighter. The story was out of his hands now, gone to turn into paper and ink. He would write his follow up, but then…

Just three people, Finn had said. Just three people.

On his nightstand, his phone lit up his dark ceiling. Leo turned his head. There weren’t many people who could get through his Do Not Disturb. Part of him got nervous, wondering if something was wrong, and he propped himself up on an elbow quickly, pulling the phone off its charger.

you’re awake

Three words, soft as a whisper. From Logan. Just Logan.

A moment later came the ?

Leo rolled onto his back, grinning.

are you spying on me somehow?

Finn said you have trouble sleeping, came the reply.

I do sometimes, Leo sent. And then, do you not like question marks or something?

I just thought I was right

Leo laughed out loud, all to himself.

well, I am awake.

are you okay? Logan asked.

Yeah. Just thinking.

A bit of a pause, just long enough to make Leo bite his lip.

about what?

Leo typed his reply out slowly, carefully. Savoring getting to say these words. Getting more than one kiss from you.

An immediate reply. maybe I won’t ruin it this time

Leo smiled. I think the last thing you did was ruin it.

:)

God. Smiley faces from Logan Tremblay.

go to sleep so you get here faster, Logan wrote. or just get here now.

Job—remember?

:(

Leo laughed again. I do have a surprise for you when I get there.

what is it? Logan asked immediately.

“Classic,” Leo whispered to himself, but just sent a smiley in return. Then, after a moment’s thought—

goodnight, green eyes

~

The article, when it came out, was hot as lightning. The photographs were gorgeous. Natural. They turned into each other like puzzle pieces, dressed in the muted, gentle browns of the house, and then the bright jewels of green and blue. But it was the opening show that came after it that caused the storm.

Leo didn’t get a single bit of work done—but neither did Cassie, so it was fine. He had never watched a grainy live stream closer and made Cassie go out and get him lunch so he didn’t have to get up. He brought his phone to the bathroom with him. He’d never refreshed Twitter so many times to find new photographs and videos. Finn, getting a pride flag thrown up to him at one point. The moments when they shared the microphone now sometimes ended in a kiss. A kiss. Leo was laughing and choked up all at once. Logan’s hat said rouge.

“Is there a reason you didn’t choose that show?” Cassie asked.

He’d thought about it. Being there. He could have gotten out of work—not in a I’m sort of kind of dating them and suddenly I miss them every second please let me go way but in a…this is important for the follow up way. But. He hadn’t. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to.

“This is a long time coming for them,” Leo said carefully, and found it true. “This is something they thought they’d never have. It’s theirs. And I wanted them to have it more than anything.”

Cassie’s eyes softened. She’d wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “They better know how lucky they are if they’re getting you.”

Leo smiled and tilted their heads together, turning back to the show.

“Well, fuck,” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium as he sat down at the piano. “You guys know what song’s coming by now, I guess.”

Rooftop, Leo thought, and shushed Cassie so harshly that she rolled her eyes and knocked him lightly on the shoulder.

Logan was still on stage, though, and getting up from behind his set. Leo’s heart leapt right into his throat.

“Something’s happening,” Leo said. “Something’s happening.”

“You shush,” Cassie said.

“Or at least you thought you did,” Finn said, then leaned back and laughed, the microphone barely catching it over the answering cheers. Logan crossed the stage, taking his time. Finn made room for him on the piano bench seat and Logan slotted perfectly against his side.

“No, look,” Finn played a few chords. “Rooftop has a special place in my heart, but it’s no part of tonight. Tonight…” He looked at Logan. “Tonight how about a little duet, Tremblay?”

Leo knew these chords. He loved these chords. And now, he could think of the lyrics that were about to come. They were probably some of the first words written about both of them letting themselves have each other…It was perfect. The crowd knew the song, too, and they were manic when Logan started playing the piano’s lower register, almost like a bass to Finn’s higher, softer melody.

A crew member brought out a second microphone and fixed it over the piano. Logan thanked him with a nod, and leaned in.

“You should have seen Finn trying to teach me piano,” his voice echoed.

Leo leaned closer to the screen. “Oh my God.”

Cassie sorted. “You’re so smitten.”

“They’re playing Keep.” 

“Yes, I know, I am a fan, too!”

I see you in the morning staring out over the waves.

I find I don’t need my instincts, never thought I’d see the day.

I could just roll over, yeah, I could close my eyes,

Cause I don’t have to grasp at glimpses, no, I’ve got my whole life.

I’ll tell anyone who asks, 

“Harmony, harmony,” Cassie said, imitating Leo’s accent.

Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and put his palm over her mouth. But she was right. The harmony, Logan joining in on the chorus, was exquisite.

I’ll show anyone who wants to see.

Like sea glass, or pebbles found on the beach.

Oh God, look at what I get to keep.

I’ll hold it as long as my breath lasts.

I’ll say it in all the languages they speak.

Like histories or songs sung while out at sea,

Hey Sunshine, what do you say you keep me?

Cassie made a strangled noise before Leo could. She pulled Leo’s hand away from her mouth.

“Sunshine? He just—They just changed the lyrics,” Cassie said. She got her arms around Leo’s waist and shrieked, making everyone in the office look at them. “He changed the lyrics.”

Leo was going to melt into his keyboard. Or cry? No. He was going to love them.

“I see you in the kitchen just before we go to sleep—” Finn gave his head a little, sharp shake, smiling, and when he looked up, Leo saw that he was crying, unable to sing through it. The crowd filled in. I find I don’t need my instincts, you are mine to keep.

Leo touched his lips lightly. Leo wouldn’t forget that sound, the stadium singing for them like that, even through a video. Not ever. He wouldn’t forget the feeling of knowing how much Finn and Logan deserved it. And how much he wanted them to have this. And how sweet is was when Logan played the last note, Finn wrapping an arm around him and pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, and Logan catching Finn’s tears with a gentle hand.

Finn found one of the stadium cameras, touched a hand to his mouth, and held it out.

Oh God, Leo was going to really love them.

~

Leo could feel the change in the air the moment he stepped of his airplane. Humid, but light. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-down and put his sunglasses on as he stepped into the warm afternoon. He was a little groggy from his flight, but not too bad. He was hungry, though, and in desperate need of a coffee—which he was most certainly in the right place for.

“Mr. Knut?”

Leo turned, pulling his suitcase up to his side. A man was standing there, sleek in a light gray suit and a driver’s cap. He had a neatly tripped gray beard, kind eyes, and a light British accent.

“Yes?” Leo said. “Oh, are you—”

“Mr. Tremblay’s driver, yes. Ralph, it’s a pleasure.” Ralph motioned towards his suitcase. “Might I take care of that for you, sir, on the way to the car?”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Leo said. “But thank you. It’s nice enough of him to send you to get me. Very kind.”

“Yes, he was very keen. This way, sir.”

Leo followed him the short distance to the car park, remarking on the weather just because he wasn’t used to being called sir. Ralph was kind about it, offering small talk right back. The car was shiny and black, the windows so dark and opaque that Leo guessed that was why Logan used it. He stored his suitcase and laptop bag and stuttered around Ralph opening his door for him.

“Oh, wow—thanks so much.”

“Of course, sir.”

Leo slid into the smooth, leather seat. The whole car smelled new. There was a water bottle waiting for him in the door side pocket, nestled into a tortoise shell cup holder. Leo took his sunglasses off just as the door shut—

And then someone was grabbing onto his shirt and tugging. An insistent, warm mouth covered his, swallowing Leo’s sound of surprise.

Logan. The warm, pine scent of him. The feeling of canvas when Leo made to touch his hair. The weight of him swinging a leg over Leo’s lap. Callouses on his hands where they smoothed up Leo’s neck.

“Hello,” Leo gasped. “Fuck.”

“Hi.” Logan barely said the word before he was kissing him again. Leo had to let his head rest back against the seat he was so dizzy with it. His mouth probably tasted sour, he was probably sweaty, maybe he even smelled from the plane, but Logan didn’t seem to care.

“Where’s—”

“Sound check,” Logan gasped, and then he had Leo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, pulling and letting go. “He’ll be at the hotel by the time we get there.”

“You don’t need—your sound checked?”

“I need this.”

From his place on Leo’s lap, Logan put a hand on the ceiling. For a moment, Leo wondered what the hell he was in for in the back of this car, but Logan’s fingers found a button that he pushed and up a partition between them and Ralph began to rise.

“Hotel, sir?” Ralph asked as the sheet rose.

“Merci,” Logan confirmed, and then the partition cut them off in a muffled, tinted-window bubble of their own making and Logan’s hungry green eyes were all Leo was left with.

Their breathing sounded loud to Leo’s ears. He got his first good look at Logan. White t-shirt, black cotton shorts. Green hat, backwards. Tan, gorgeous, just like Leo remembered him, but even more real. A small scratch on his cheek from somewhere. He’d cut himself shaving on his chin, a little red dot. Leo reached up and took off his hat, letting his bangs fall forward in their gentle waves. They were pretty light from all the sunshine.

“Can he…” Leo whispered. “Can Ralph hear us?”

Slowly, Logan shook his head.

Leo reached up and tucked his fingers through Logan’s hair. He could have lived off of the way Logan’s eyes slipped closed. “How long is the drive?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Hm.”

Logan’s smile looked like one of his soft, lulling songs. “What does that mean?”

Leo didn’t answer. He’d been taken by surprise, but that was fading now. All it left behind was want and relief. For now, he was done with the distance and the florescent lights of his office. He was back in Logan’s arms.

Thirty minutes felt like five. Logan’s soft sounds filled him right up as Leo kissed his neck—that was when Ralph’s gentle knock from the driver’s seat came. Leo broke off, startled. His mouth felt puffy—and good. Logan’s warm weight felt like the only thing holding him together.

“Ouais,” Logan called. “One moment.”

As Logan leaned their foreheads together, the world filtered back in. Leo became aware of the sound of a crowd outside, and had to laugh.

“Are we about to be photographed?”

“Probably a little,” Logan said. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t believe how many times Finn and I have had this happen.”

“What, got a little heavy in the car?”

Logan grinned, ducking to kiss Leo again. “Mhm.”

“That’s…” Really hot.

Logan slid off his lap, back to his side. They both spent a moment trying to pull themselves together. Logan would have to get out first, which made Leo feel a little better.

“They’ll bring your bags to the room,” Logan said. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “Ready?”

Hands banged against the windows, making Leo jump. There were some chants of Finn’s name, along with Logan’s, and Leo realized they didn’t know who was in the car. “I—yeah.” The room. “I think so.”

Logan considered him for a moment, then took off his own hat and placed it, bill forward, on Leo’s head.

“Oh,” Leo said. “Do I look—”

“You look how I want you to look. Merde, I want Finn to see you.” Logan grinned. “But it may be a bit much for a photo.”

Leo reached up and touched the hat. It was green and had said the word LOVE on it. That was a story Leo wanted to write. Logan could say a lot with his hats. There were whole twitter accounts dedicated to the way he hinted at future songs or albums with what was on his hat.

LOVE. Leo was wearing the word love.

“I know I shouldn’t hold your hand quite yet,” Logan began, trailing off.

Leo laughed. “That would spark some wild rumors.”

Logan looked at him over the rim of his glasses, the shadow making his green eyes bright. “Stay close to me, okay?” He popped the car door and the sound of the crowd doubled, frenzied, screaming, yearning. “Stay close.”

Leo could hear his own heartbeat. He could feel it in his throat. He did want to hold Logan’s hand. “I will.”

And Leo experienced the cameras and fans from an entirely different view. He’d followed Finn and Logan around. He’d never walked with them, not like this. Not side by side in a way that signaled to everyone he was with them.

He stuck close to Logan’s back, as promised. He caught some curious looks, felt phone cameras trained on him. The sun was bright and he was very glad for Logan’s hat. He tried to take it in, if for nothing further than that this was the biggest crowd he’d ever followed a star through from this close, but it was over in a flash. They were in a cool hotel lobby, marble and stone, and a smiling woman, motioning them to the elevator. Logan’s two security guards got in with them.

The sudden silence was loud. Logan took his sunglasses off, casually folding them into his shirt and leaning back against the wall as they rose.

“Here we go, Tremz,” one of the guards said, fist bumping Logan as he passed him through the open doors. “See you tonight. Remind Finn the dinner res he asked for is at eight-thirty.”

“Thanks, Paul.” Logan looked back from the hallway. “Leo?”

“Sorry,” Leo said and strode forward. “Thanks—Thanks, Paul.”

Paul was a massive guy, but when he smiled he looked like a teddy bear. “You got it, man.”

There was only one door on this hallway, right in front of them with a large brass knocker, and no sooner had the elevator shut than did it swing open to reveal Finn—sweaty, in a soft looking gray t-shirt and running shorts, and grinning.

“Jesus,” Logan said. “You scared me.”

“I heard the ding,” Finn said cheerfully.

He was looking right at Leo. Leo drew Logan’s hat off, trying to catch his breath.

“There were crowds,” Logan said, as if explaining.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Are you guys famous or something?”

Finn ignored the joke. He walked right up to Leo, wrapped him up in his arms, and held on tight. Leo had maybe been expecting a kiss—probably something a tad more obvious than Logan’s sneak-attack. But the hug was better. Finn was warm. He smelled like sweat and sunscreen from being on stage.

“Hi,” Finn whispered in his ear. He pulled back, holding Leo’s cheek briefly, then gently tweaked a curl of Leo’s blond hair. “Hi, Sunshine.”

Leo covered Finn’s hand, turning his mouth against it. “Hi.”

“Come here,” Finn said, laughing. “Come in.”

“Ouais.” Logan put a hand low on Leo’s back, guiding him through the suite door. “Where’s my surprise?”

“What surprise?” Finn asked as the door shut behind them. Sure enough, Leo’s bags were waiting there, neatly side-by-side near the small kitchen.

“Not till later,” Leo said.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “How later?”

“Tomorrow later.”

Logan huffed.

Finn came up behind him, pressing a small cup into his hand. Espresso.

“Oh, how did you know?” Leo sipped it down easily. Hot and slightly sweet with sugar.

“You’re in Italy,” Finn said. Next he was wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. “You understand that if it’s a physical surprise, he’s going to dig through your luggage?”

Leo toyed with his delicate espresso cup.“Not if I say not to.”

Finn’s chin hooked over his shoulder. Leo could feel his laugh against his skin. His strong chest against his back. His hips— “You think he’ll listen to you?”

They both regarded Logan, who was still glaring at them—and glancing at Leo’s suitcase.

“I think he will.”

“Hm,” Finn said, and Leo felt a kiss land on his neck. “I think you’re right.” Another kiss to the exact same spot. Over a mark Logan had made? “I see someone has already gotten to you.”

“I was accosted in the car,” Leo said.

“Classic.”

Logan just rolled his eyes and began dragging Leo’s suitcase into another room.

By that night, the fans who didn’t read up on their music stories had already figured out who he was. Leo Knut—last seen on the road writing the coming out piece on Night Swimming. Sure enough, Twitter was full of wearing Lo’s hat wearing Lo’s hat???

���Ooh, you’re so undercover,” Finn commented when he glimpsed Leo’s phone once they were back in the car, speeding through the night on the way to dinner. “They don’t know what’s coming for them.”

Leo clicked his phone off even as Cassie texted nice hat. He looked at Logan, at a purplish bruise Leo had left on his neck. “No, they really don’t.”

Logan covered the mark with his palm and grinned out the window. Leo laughed, looking, too, then paused.

“Hey, are we leaving the city?”

“Yep,” Finn said.

“Where?” Logan asked.

Finn shrugged exaggeratedly. He’d changed into a dark blue button down, light slacks, and pretty brown leather shoes that Leo badly wanted a pair of. He’d pushed a dark green button down towards Logan, dark trousers, and white, pristine sneakers. He’d taken one look at Leo and told him he was perfect, but Leo had showered and changed anyway. Dusty red shirt. He’d followed Finn’s lead and left the collar loose.

Logan kicked at Finn from his seat across from the both of them. Finn just stuck his tongue out and took Leo’s hand across the console between them. Leo stared at it for a moment. Finn’s pale fingers that would be playing a guitar to thousands of people tomorrow were right there wrapped up in his own.

“Where?” Logan insisted.

“Jesus, Lo, can neither of us try and surprise you? I know you found all your presents as a kid, but you’re not finding the ones I give you.” Finn dropped a wink. “I’ll give it to you when I decide.”

Apparently where was a castle. Literally a castle. Soft lights flooded up the old stones to reveal turrets and archways. A man in a tuxedo was waiting for them at the entrance. They were given champagne in thin, airy glasses and leave to roam the lit gardens before their dinner was served. The air was mild, but the feeling of Finn and Logan at his shoulders was better. Finn had something to say about every flower, every piece of architecture, as if he had studied up for this night. They ate dinner under the stars, watching fireflies dart through the greenery.

It wasn’t until they had been served an array of desserts and left truly alone that Leo thought to bring up the article and how they were doing—it was different to ask without a screen between them.

“We’re so good,” Finn said. He looked at Logan, who nodded. Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s chair, scooting it closer to his. Leo watched him lean into him. His brown eyes flickered to Leo even as his lips brushed Logan’s skin. “Lo?”

“Ouais, I…” Logan gave up on words and tucked his face into Finn’s neck, laughing.

Leo leaned back in his chair, glad the table let him stretch his still plane-cramped legs out under the table. “It’s so nice to see you up there. Really. I can’t wait for tomorrow. You just look so…free.”

“We feel free,” Finn said. “And it’s thanks to you.” He held out a hand across the linen tablecloth and, after a moment, Leo took it. “How are you, Le?”

Leo let out a slow breath, watching the way Finn’s thumb tracked across his knuckles. “I’m…” He laughed a little. “That’s quite a question. Really quite a question.”

Logan laughed, and when Leo realized he was laughing at him, he threw a sugar coated almond at him in a neat arc across the table—which lost all its effect when Logan caught it in his mouth.

“Non, seriously.” Logan leaned more into Finn’s side. “Leo?”

Leo looked around them. They both had a knack for finding these slices of paradise. Though, lately it had been feeling like any where they were was heaven, even his own kitchen.

“Being on tour with you was wonderful,” Leo answered. “And Nice was, of course, perfect. So beautiful…God, this is beautiful.”

“Why am I sensing a but?” Finn asked, brows drawn together. Logan looked downright nervous.

Leo shook his head, bringing his other hand to hold Finn’s as well. “No. Well, yes, but not like that.”

They both looked at him expectantly. Patiently.

“You’ve been sweet in waiting for me. And honest about wanting me.”

“We fumbled and recovered,” Finn said.

“We do want you,” Logan said earnestly.

“Well, I…I hope so,” Leo said softly. Finn’s hand tightened around his.

“Yeah?” Finn whispered.

Leo nodded. Logan couldn’t quite reach with the angle, but he reached for Leo, too, hand on Finn’s wrist.

“It’s been—what? A week and a half of video calls? You know all these glorious places are amazing, but when we’re just sitting around…I mean, when we’re just talking… Or you’re watching me wash dishes, do laundry. And I start to feel like…”

He felt the words well in his throat like tears as he looked between them. He understood Cassie’s hesitation. He understood his own hesitation. He’d been nervous that he’d come back and something would have changed. Like adrenaline leaving the system. But it hadn’t.

“I’ve never not known how to be without someone before,” Leo said. “But you make me feel like I don’t remember how to be alone.”

Finn’s smile was tearful and Leo realized he felt a little like that, too, even as Finn leaned forward and kissed him. It dissolved into a laugh, into kiss to his cheek. A piece of silverware clattered to the ground as Finn tugged Leo’s chair closer and hugged him as best he could.

“Rouge, you’re pulling the table cloth, the table—” Logan’s voice came, laughing. Leo heard his chair scoot back and then there was another pair of arms around Leo’s neck, Logan leaning over the back of his chair. He managed a sloppy kiss to Leo’s mouth, despite the angle.

Leo closed his eyes and held on. He waited for Finn to make him laugh. Or Logan to say something in French. But they stayed quiet, surprising him. He peeked one eye open, only to see that Finn, whose forehead was pressed against Leo’s temple, had his eyes closed, too. Leo didn’t dare move him to try and get at Logan, but the content sigh he felt against his neck was enough to go on for him. Wind whistled through the trees around them, bring the smell of some sweet flower. Leo closed his eyes again and leaned back into Logan’s shoulder and Finn’s arm. It was like a blanket, their quiet. They’d been more serene than he’d expected from the beginning—puzzles, dinner, reading, morning runs. This was something deeper. It was as if something unhappy had finally been able to settle for them, too. The questions were still there. How will this work? What will people think? But they were muted and far off.

They looked up at footsteps on the patio, only to find a surprised waiter holding a pitcher of water.

“Ah,” the waiter said. “Pardon me. Uh…”

“Hi,” Finn said, only lifting his head. “Yeah, we’ll take the check.”

~

They laughed about it on the car ride home, the waiter’s face. Speeding through dark hills, and then streets still filled with chatter and light. Leo watched out the window as they slowed in narrower streets. It gave him a glimpses of passing faces. Laughing, eating, kissing.

Finn’s hand pressed to his thigh. “Are you composing sentences right now? I think you are.”

Leo looked over at him. “Maybe. And you?”

“I’ve been watching you two write in your heads for the last ten minutes,” Logan said. He’d stretched his legs out so their feet slotted together in the car space between them.

“Well, no one got on my lap, I had to do something to pass the time,” Leo said, squeezing one of Logan’s ankles between his own.

Logan just looked at him with bright eyes. “I don’t want to have to stop.”

Leo let his head fall back against the seat and he put his hand over Finn’s. “You just deal with that every day?”

“All day,” Finn said. “You don’t even want to know the things he says to me before we go on stage.” Finn laughed and scooted over in his seat, pressing right up against Leo’s side. “Actually, you probably do.”

No one was waiting at the hotel this time. There were no bright flashes to catch what Leo was sure was an intense flush on his cheeks. They stayed close in the elevator, their security shaking their heads at how giddy they probably sounded—all that content silence had bubbled into talking over each other and far too loud laughter. Finn fumbled a little with the hotel key, but then they were inside the suite and met with a blast of AC. Finn went to turn it down, but Logan got his hands on Leo’s waist and pulled until Leo had him pinned right up against the side of the entrance hall.

“This is how I first met you,” Leo said, staring down at him. He traced a hand under Logan’s jaw and watched the way he bared his neck for more. “I was so surprised. And you were so beautiful. And also you literally did not stop making out with Finn which was, like, okay then.”

Finn’s laugh reached them. “I asked him that after you left. I was like, how long was he standing there actually? And he wouldn’t tell me.”

“What’d you want, Lo?” Leo whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Me to walk in ready to go right then?”

“Non, I wanted to see if you thought I was hot,” Logan said, then laughed as Leo pulled back to follow Finn’s voice into the living room. He called after him, “And you do!”

Finn had his dress shirt half unbuttoned and his belt in one hand, frowning at something on his phone.

“You okay there difficult rock star?” Leo asked, trying not to stare at his pale chest against the blush color.

Finn looked up, all big brown eyes suddenly—how did he do that? Switch between unbearably hot to unbearably sweet in two seconds—and smiled. “Oh. This isn’t what it looks like.” He gestured to himself with his belt. “I just wanted to change. And yeah, just tomorrow’s call times.”

Call times. Show tomorrow. Leo took a breath. Right. What time was it? Midnight? One? Leo knew they should sleep. He’d seen them on the nights before shows many times now. Logan drank mint tea. Finn read. Unless they had friends at the shows, or family, they tried to get as much sleep as they could. Logan slept in as much as he could. Finn seemed incapable of sleeping in, but he went for a run and he ordered up a big breakfast. God, Leo wanted to make them breakfast again. He wanted the way they sat with him, looked at him, made him coffee.

Leo nodded. He emptied his pockets, setting his phone and wallet on a side table. “I hope it’s not too early? I know your routines the night before a show and this isn’t it. It’s early for me, technically. But it’s late for you.”

Leo’s eyes drew down Finn’s body again. The half-untucked shirt. He was pretty sure those socks he was wearing were the ones advertised on TV offering arch support. Why, why was that hot right now? It was. And maybe Leo wanted the way Finn looked right now to be exactly what it looked like. What then?

Finn was quiet, glancing at Logan as he came into the room and sat on the back of the couch to look at Leo. Finn drew in a slow breath, stretching his arms up and behind his head, so that when he spoke his voice came out tensed like his muscles—which Leo could see more of now, the sharp cut just above his waistline. “I mean, you could…” He grinned, dropping his arms and relaxing. “We could get you on the right time zone.”

Leo bit at the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t exactly the line he’d heard in Finn’s voice during all of his laundry-folding day dreams, but it was so very Finn that it was better.

“What did your team think when you said I’d be staying with you?” Leo glanced up around the room. “I mean, in the same…” Bedroom? “Suite.”

“They’re our team for a reason,” Finn said. “They know what’s their business, and what’s ours.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “And my being a reporter isn’t their business? I bet at least a few people would disagree with that.”

“You’re not the kind of reporter they worry about,” Logan said. “Unless you suddenly revealed a long-range camera in your suitcase.” He tilted his head teasingly. “That’s not the surprise, is it?”

“No,” Leo laughed. “Definitely not the surprise.”

“And just to be clear,” Finn said. “Because looks like we’re not great on being clear—”

“Room, not suite,” Logan cut in.

“Jeez, way to grab my punchline and yank it out from beneath my feet.” Finn strode closer and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “But yes. We were hoping…I mean, there is another room. Two other, in fact, for you to choose from.” He tilted his head. “But I was hoping just your suitcase would be staying there.”

“We,” Logan said, rising from his seat.

“We were hoping.”

Logan stood in front of Leo. He held out his hands palm up, and Leo put his palms into them. Logan gave a gentle tug. When Leo hesitated, worrying the inside of his cheek, it took about half a second for concern to flicker over Logan’s face.

“Le?” he asked gently. “What…What did I do?”

“No, no, no,” Leo said. “Nothing. I want that. I really, really want that. I just…” Leo sighed, cursing himself. The nerves he’d felt while packing sprung back at him. Look at them. Look at them.

“It’s been a while for me,” Leo said softly. “I mean—I mean a while. And you two know each other—so well. I just don’t want…to, like, disappoint, or…”

“Non,” Logan said.

“You couldn’t,” Finn added. “Leo, you couldn’t disappoint us. Like, ever.”

Leo knew that. He did. He even believed it. It didn’t stop the idea that he would from making him want to crawl under the covers and hide.

“I’m looking at two people who know each other inside and out,” Leo said. “And I love that about you two. But—yeah. That’s all.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other. Leo didn’t mind the silent communication ability. He even liked it. It was sweet. In his dreams, he got that ability with them, too. One day.

Finn stepped forward. It wasn’t the stage walk. It was just him. Even in the button-down that Leo now knew to be the softest linen, it was just him. Not all the photos Leo had seen of fans catching him on the street—sunglasses, t-shirt, notebook or coffee…smiling, talking with them, and uncapping Sharpies with his teeth. Leo had looked at the photos from that particular day a lot. A lot. Summer in New York, headed to the recording studio, stooping so a girl could slip a necklace she had made him over his head.

“Okay.” Finn smiled softly. “There’s one thing we can do no matter what. It’s late. We can just get ready for bed and…and then whatever you want.”

Logan nodded. “Whatever you want.”

“We do know each other through and through,” Finn said. He tucked a stray curl behind Leo’s ear, but Leo felt it spring back into place. “Which is why we know how much we want you here.”

Leo shook his head, putting a hand against Finn’s chest. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just…” Leo looked to Logan. “I…This is like a dream? A really good dream.”

“Leo.” Finn’s voice was overly serious, but Leo caught the spark in his eye. “Were we your celebrity crushes or something?” 

Leo’s laugh surprised him, head falling back. “Finn.”

“Aw,” Finn wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist. “I embarrassed him. Look, Lo, we were his celebrity crush.”

“First, I meant because you’re so sweet. And second, I’m pretty sure you could attempt world domination with the number of people who would name you if asked who their crush is,” Leo said.

“Maybe,” Finn replied. “But I only care about one.”

It was the little things, first. Logan left small pools of water all around the sink when he washed his face. He went to Leo’s luggage, and Leo only had time to call out a warning don’t before Logan was pulling out a t-shirt with a delighted laugh. Thankfully, it wasn’t his surprise one…But it was Finn’s.

Leo was brushing his teeth next to Finn O’Hara in Italy, and Logan Tremblay was holding up his HEARTTHROB O’HARA t-shirt with a grin on his face that said it all.

“That was also a surprise,” Leo said around his toothpaste. He groaned, and put a hand over Finn’s delighted eyes as passed him to go rinse his mouth.

When he leaned up from the faucet, Finn was there, rinsing beside him. Leo cleared his throat, laughing a little under the feeling of Finn’s gaze. He tried to escape, honestly he had no idea what to say, but two hands caught his hips and a hard, warm chest met Leo’s back.

They looked at each other in the mirror. The lights were soft and dim, bringing out each of Finn’s freckles. Leo put his hand over where Finn’s rested low on his stomach.

“I’m embarrassed,” Leo said, smiling down at the sink. “It’s stupid, right?”

With a slight pressure to his hip, Finn turned Leo around. Leo rested back against the counter’s edge, and Finn nudged his way to stand between his thighs. He carded Leo’s hair back from his face, the ends damp from washing his face.

“Nothing about you could ever be stupid,” Finn said.

Leo traced the N of his NASA t-shirt, then one of the trails on a shooting star. “You probably see people in that shirt all the time. Probably have signed that shirt a million times.” Leo closed his eyes. “Shit. I’d say I’m not some crazy fan, but younger me was definitely a crazy fan.” He looked up at Finn. “But you know all about crazy fans.”

Finn smiled a little. He barely had to tilt his chin forward at all to brush their mouths together. “I do know a little about that.”

“So maybe the shirt doesn’t even matter?” Leo asked hopefully. Finn’s brown eyes were staring at his mouth—that still had toothpaste on it maybe?

“Everything about you matters,” Finn said, and kissed him.

It brought back the rush of the ocean. The heat of the sun, sitting against those cliffs when Leo had been so confused, so in want. He knew how to hold himself together. God, if there was one thing he was so very good at in this world, it was holding himself together.

“Maybe I’m your crazy fan,” Finn whispered. “I’ve been stalking your writing for long enough.”

Leo laughed. “Mm, that’s true.” He reached up for Finn’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

He didn’t want to hold himself together anymore. He didn’t want to hold back. Nothing he knew even compared to this. Not the fame, not the novelty. This. Worn out t-shirts and getting to have a perfect fit in a legendary love like theirs. These were new muscles, letting himself go, and he’d been straining them with these two. They felt stronger now.

The band of his pajama pants was wet from being pressed back into Logan’s puddles. Finn tasted minty, and with him standing between Leo’s thighs like this, Leo got to tilt his head up into the kiss.

“How do I look?”

They broke apart to see Logan standing in the bathroom doorway. He wore a soft looking pair of gray boxers, and his chest and arms filled out Leo’s t-shirt in a way Leo had never, would never have even thought, to imagine.

While Leo sat there staring, Finn laughed. “That thing looks like it’s about to fall to pieces.”

He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole near the collar, the letters were faded at the edges. But it was so damn soft from years of being washed that Leo couldn’t bare to part with it. He reached up and pushed his fingers through Finn’s hair. That gorgeous red hair. Maybe there was so much more he couldn’t part with now.

“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. Leo didn’t know what he was talking about until he walked forward and reached up for Finn’s hair, completely messing it up. “Everyone’s obsessed with it, but how can you not be?”

Leo laughed as Finn squinted one eye shut but let them have their fun. It was soft and thick, the sorter strands at the sides feathering through Leo’s fingers like velvet.

Finn put a hand on Logan’s chest, tapping over the letters of Leo’s t-shirt. “I always guessed that was why everything they put my name in is red, too.”

“Marketing?” Leo said.

“Yeah.” Finn sighed, shrugged, then smiled. “Le, that shirt really is about to fall apart.”

“I…wear it a lot.”

“Oh yeah? All around the city with my name on your heart?”

Leo bit his lip. It was more than that. It was what he wore when he was sad, or had had a bad day. When he was sick, or exhausted, or angry.

And then, over the past month, that comfort had shifted to them. A bad day at work ended with four hour FaceTimes until Leo was too sleepy to talk anymore and Finn’s soft voice. Goodnight, Sunshine. And when he couldn’t sleep, somehow Logan always knew. The soft light of his phone lighting up his bedroom from his nightstand and never letting him feel alone or sinking or like he would never sleep again.

“Le?” Finn asked softly. His hair was a mess from their hands. His eyes were pure syrup again, asking, checking, worried—loving?

“Hi,” Leo said. “Sorry, hi.” He put a hand on Finn’s cheek and looked at Logan.

Logan tilted his head. “What are you writing right now, Soleil?”

Leo closed his eyes briefly at the nickname, leaning his head back to bask in it. “Dialogue, I guess.”

“Ouais,” Logan said, wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. It completed the circle of the three of them. “Of?”

“How to ask you to take me to bed,” Leo whispered.

“Yes,” Finn breathed, and then Leo was being kissed.

He’d written a lot of words in his life. It was almost funny to be asked what he was writing right then. He wasn’t even sure this was something that could be written. What did kiss have on what Finn gave him? It was just what Leo remembered. The heated energy from that middle of the night kiss in Nice, only tripled.

“Hey.” Logan’s voice was low. Leo felt fingers tighten in his hair and he gasped, breaking Finn’s kiss long enough to be pulled to another mouth. The ocean and the shade. The shade and the ocean. Finn’s laugh echoed against the bathroom tiles. He was watching them. He had a hand on Leo’s back, and probably Logan’s, and let them kiss.

No, Leo couldn’t have written this down. Logan, pulling him towards the bedroom. Finn flicking off the bathroom light and leaving them in the yellow-pink glow of a reading lamp and the moon.

“I’d raise the sun if I could,” he said. He caught Leo up around the waist again. “Just because it’s dark in here doesn’t mean I want it to be.”

“Finn.” It sounded pleading, but Leo hadn’t meant it that way. Not stop. Not more. Just… “Have some compassion for how full my heart can be right now, O’Hara.”

And then Leo took that famous NASA t-shirt right off of him. The stars and the comet trails, they were still there. Finn’s torso was its own sky map and Leo, wondering what Finn liked, bent to kiss a trail of his own along one thin collarbone.

What words existed for the feeling of Finn chest rising and falling against his mouth.

What words could Leo have used to describe the smile Logan gave him as he let Leo pull his t-shirt off of him next? All Leo could comprehend was the sheer strength of his arms and the dark trail of hair that led down into his boxers.

There were no hesitations, like Leo had thought there would be. The pauses were woven in, just turns and folds and lifts like pages. Yes? This? Grins and breaths and—Logan’s sounds. Logan. Logan knew what he wanted. Finn knew what Logan wanted. Leo, very quickly, knew what Logan wanted and shared a slightly dazed grin with Finn about it. He got to watch Finn’s practiced fingers, and see how much Finn enjoyed giving Logan everything he could possibly desire. It was as sweet as it was unbearably hot. Finn looked so pale against Logan’s tanned skin. Marble. That was a word Leo had used before, but it applied. Jesus Christ, it applied.

What did grip have on the way Logan clutched at Leo’s shoulders when they were at last as close as anything could be, his thighs shaking against Leo’s. Bliss, certainly, was nothing compared to the look on Logan’s face when Finn’s hand pressed over the strong curve of his adam’s apple and asked him how he liked it, told him they looked gorgeous. Throbbing held nothing to the way Leo’s heart pounded, and more than nothing to how close those words brought him to the edge. Rhythm. That’s what Logan had. Leo set his hands against the small of his back—two dimples there, made for Leo’s thumbs—and held on.

“Mm—” Logan’s breath came out short and he froze, mouth open against Leo’s neck. His back was slick with sweat now. Finn sat back on his heels just beside them, working himself slowly.

“What you waiting for, baby?” Finn breathed. He’d not been moving much, but there was a sheen over his nose and temples, too. Just from watching. Now, he shifted behind Leo and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling under his jaw.

Leo reached between them and Logan muffled his sound in Leo’s neck. Logan hadn’t been warm from the second he met him, but oh, he was warm now. Burning in Leo’s hands, against Leo’s body.

“I just want it to last,” Logan said shakily, but he was moving again, like he couldn’t help it. “You’re leaving in two days.” Logan wrapped his arms fully around Leo’s shoulders. “Don’t.”

“Don’t even know how—” Leo’s eyes slipped shut and he tried to breathe through the mix of white hot pleasure and blue tenderness pulsing through him. “How to think about leaving.” He smoothed his hands up Logan’s back, feeling the way it flexed as Logan moved against him.

“Ouais,” Logan said, a smile slipping across his face. He pulled back, his breathing jumping as their hips shifted. He kissed Leo hard, then cursed softly and let his head fall back. “Fuck…Leo…”

With his hair falling back and out of his eyes like that, Leo’s language left him entirely. He’d seen him like this on stage, lost in the music. He’d watched from the VIP booth, from the wings. Logan was closer to him than Finn was, always staying in one place. He’d seen the lights catch his every angle as he threw his head back, sweat dampening his dark hair, and played with everything he had. Tonight, Leo felt like theirs in that same way.

The sheets were kicked towards the end of the bed, or pooled on the floor. Leo’s head was on Finn’s chest, Logan’s forehead pressed to the top of his spine. Leo couldn’t stop touching them. He trailed his fingertips down Finn’s chest and watched goosebumps follow in their wake. Logan had a thigh thrown over his hip and Leo stroked the unbearably soft skin behind his knee. He dipped his thumb in the divot below Finn’s bottom lip.

Finn smiled sleepily, his eyes closed. His eyelashes were dark just now. In certain lights they tinged lighter, like his hair. “You’re ticklish.”

“You’re soft,” Leo replied.

“Is he asleep?” Finn whispered.

“Non,” came Logan’s voice, though he sounded part of the way there.

“I’m not kidding.” Leo reached back to hold Logan’s hip. “I’m getting up if I start keeping you awake with my tossing around.”

That was a lie. There was nothing that could haul Leo out of where he was right now.

“Nu-uh.” Finn kissed Leo’s temple. “No tossing. Not with the weighted blanket I have.”

“You travel with a weighted blanket?” Leo asked skeptically.

Finn reached out and picked up Logan’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Sure do.”

“Oh,” Leo laughed.

“One-hundred percent effective, I promise.”

When Finn turned the lights off, it sent the room into near complete darkness and so Leo could do nothing but feel, in every nerve, and expanse of exposed skin, the way Logan nudged his nose into the soft hair at his nape, and the way Finn rolled onto his side to hold them both.

“Show tomorrow,” Finn whispered. “You ready?”

Leo smiled. “Do I have to be ready? I think that’s supposed my question to you two.”

“You have to be ready,” Finn placed a kiss to his neck. “It’s a Leo show.”

[blackknight-kai]

Let me start saying I love your blog, reblogs and headcanons, truly, all of the above🩷🩷

If you’re comfortable with the question, do you have any for the Destined One with a female virgin reader?

So I wanna say thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I haven’t quite shared my own head canons much but I don’t have any issue sharing them 🫶 others do a much better job of it so I’ve left it to them. But! Your ask comes at a wonderful time as I needed a break from writing a fic 💀 (kill me im up to 20k)

Let’s get after it! Destined One & a female virgin head canons? I’ll give it a shot! There will be a nsfw section below sorry if that’s not your thing. I wasn’t super explicit on body parts etc but let me know if you guys want a Sun Wukong one? I’d try.

If you’re NOT in a relationship yet and he finds out? (Be it you told him outright or it comes out in passing conversation)

He’d would remain expressionless and quiet as usual. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it and remain respectful

But if you look closely you can see him swallowing thickly at the new information

Will NOT treat you differently

He has a LOT of feelings for you and knowing you haven’t shared yourself with someone else, while not a huge deal he’s never really cared one way or another, it’s something he finds himself thinking about often.

It makes him a little hot under the collar sometimes when he looks at you and remembers what you’d said.

NSFW - on the very rare occasions that he takes some time to himself or you’re not around, in the quiet he puts his goal to the side for just a moment and allows himself to think about his wishes and whims. Specially how he’d touch you and make it good for you because you deserve to be treated like you’re special and HE wants to be the one to do it.

If you’re in a relationship and it either came up naturally or during a more…heated moment.

Would absolutely freeze. Like body full on screenshot kinda freeze - only his tail would flick and twitch as he processes

Because honestly it hadn’t occurred to him before but it is NOW. He’s thought of you and making love with you but first or not first hadn’t been a topic of thought

He’d probably internally get flustered and his heart would race ridiculously but on the outside his expression would appear stoic or mildly surprised

Wouldn’t try to pressure you or make a big deal out of it, as though it doesn’t matter one way or another besides making extra sure you’re comfortable

His tail would eventually give him away though as it would be swishing behind him happy and interested as the information settles in his brain

Dude would be first and foremost HONORED If you shared that news with him and were giving him your first

Probably a first for him too ngl. I see him as someone who was so focused on his path that warming another’s bed wasn’t something he was willing to spare time on.

If it’s not a first for him too then it’s not something he’s done often and isn’t an expert

Would definitely thank you for trusting him with sweet reassuring kisses (if they are a little heated don’t blame him too much)

He is respectful! As I said no pressure. No rush. But would the information please him? Yes.

Definitely adds fire to his belly because HE will be your first

Sends a note of possession through him not because he’d “own” you but because regardless of being a first or not you’d be his and he yours.

NSFW:

Regardless of if you’re shy or ready to get the show on the road he’d be so gentle and would be careful, really careful.

Probably a bit unsure and might move a little too fast accidentally in his own lust but would immediately sooth you as soon as he realizes

Looks to your expressions and sounds to make sure you’re feeling good and safe

He wants to treat you WELL views it as HIS duty to make sure you’re happy

It’s a lot of pressure but he’d do his best and set his mind to it being nothing but perfect for you

I imagine at first his hands would be so feather light letting you get used to him and his touch as he undresses you piece by piece- he’d watch his claws unless he finds out you enjoy them grazing across your skin

He’d brush his lips across every piece of new skin revealed to his eyes unable to help himself

Finds out he really loves your chest, both feeling you & tasting you. as well as napping on you later

But over time as the act went on he’d be more confident, still tender but less unsure

He’d be enamored every time he got you to sigh or make a pleased sound

It’s his goal to hears those often

When he discovers how turned on he’s made you it would send waves of pride crashing over him, he had done THAT

Overall though he’d take his time

He probably won’t speak much if at all, but he’d make sure you’re ready every step of the way. If he does speak it’s not more than a few words here or there, low and only for you to hear as he nips your ear

Multiple check ins

He’s a giver, and while he isn’t practiced whatsoever he’d use his mouth and fingers to bring you pleasure, finding out exactly how you like it by listening to the way you moan or the way your body shivers and trembles with specific movements

He 100% will become VERY VERY good with his hands and mouth

His tail is sneaky, he’d use it as a way to hold on to your leg (holding you open while one of his hands is occupied) or would brush the the furry appendage across your skin just to see goosebumps rise in its wake

When you’re finally connected, after time spent letting you get used to him (and him you because let’s be real he’d be overwhelmed by the feel of tightly wrapped around him too) he’d roll his hips gently

He would make sounds, sighs and groans in your ear.

He’d love it if you cling on to him and tell him he’s doing something good

Full on shudders if you scratch his back or dig your nails into him - he loves it and he might accidentally thrust too hard when you do it

Wants to hear you 👏👏

Would keep control for as long as he could but would listen to your requests almost instantly if you asked him to move faster

Would love it if you moved his hand exactly where you wanted him to touch you

Would suck marks on your skin - thighs and neck, wherever he absentmindedly ran his lips. Would be shy about it later but would touch them possessively or when you’re dressed his eyes would stray to where his marks are on your skin.

Afterwards he’d silently but tenderly wipe you down and then pull you into his arms

Would nuzzle his face against you and breathe your scent as you both relax and come down from your high

Would massage any soreness you have that he could and feel pride at wearing you out, although his face wouldn’t show it

His tail would be like a vice around your thigh all night and trying to get out of his hold in the morning is a chore

He’d 100% take care of you especially for a first time is basically what I’m saying. After, he may be a bit rougher with his movements or may be impatient at times especially after a tough fight and adrenaline is still kicking but will always treat you tenderly as you guys build confidence together.

[olderthannetfic]

Someone recently left a comment on one of my fics that they were disappointed I wasn't addressing any of the criticism or comments I got on Goodreads. After all, I reply to comments on the actual fic. Why am I ignoring the Goodreads commenters?

Well, 1. I didn't know there was a Goodreads page for my fanfic 2. I think if they wanted a reply they'd say it where I'm known to reply to every single comment without fail and 3. the kind of dumbass who treats 800k of free fanfics in a series like something they paid for is not the sort of person I want to engage with. If 800k of stories, with main stories, tie-ins, prequel asides, missing scenes, etc. for free wasn't to your liking, just... go read another? We have stories in this fandom whose whole series clock in at over a million words. We have stories where people have done fan songs and fanart and fancomics tying into their main work. We have stories with multiple timelines. You have so many options, all of them totally free and easy to access. If my stories, which I fully admit ares flawed and show some of my weaknesses as an author, don't do it for you, you have options. You have wonderful options.

If I had an editor and a publisher and my stories were actual books, I wouldn't have this reaction to this comment. But these stories have one person working on them total. I'm not making income off of this. This is what I write while working two jobs, for fun. As much as I do view writing fanfic as something that helps me learn the ins and outs of writing and put my all into it, it's going to be rougher than if I'd had help with it or had time to do more drafts than the three I normally do.

And if I was known for ducking criticism, I would get having comments on another site. There are authors in my fandom who delete anything that's not praise. But I have had long conversations with my haters in which I take everything in good faith and explain my writing choices, word choices and ideas. I have my tumblr which is just about my fandom stuff listed in the AN of every chapter. DMs are open and anon is on. My Dreamwidth account, also under the same name, also has DMs open. I have publicly stated when I have made shit narrative choices and owned that yes, sometimes I have genuinely dropped the ball. This has influenced later chapters where things go off of the original outline in order for the shit choice to have consequences in a way that makes sense and feels true to the characters in the story.

So "why are you hiding from the Goodreads commenters?!" feels like the most baffling thing I've ever been asked. I tried to be nice about it, but all I could think was, "why didn't the Goodreads commenters who wanted a reply post their comments where they know I 100% would've responded to it?"

--

Madness!

(Also, lol, half the pro shit with a lot of comments on Goodreads is barely edited. Maybe they were bitching about content? But if it was whining about craft, the bar is in the floor and they have nothing to complain about.)

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 15

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Chan has thought up a punishment for you that doesn't really help your mental state; someone thinks of a plan to help.

chapter warnings: smut! unprotected sex

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

That’s the sound you get accustomed to a few times throughout the day. It’s Chan, unlocking the door to let himself in. Every time he brings in a tray of food for the two of you to eat, and most of the time you pick at it but you can’t find too much of an appetite. 

The first few times, you don’t talk to Chan at all. You’re completely silent, looking out at the forest through the barred window. Occasionally you would watch his mannerisms or react when he moves something a little bit too loud. Other than that, you make it a point not to speak at all. That’s how it started, at least. 

Each time a few hours pass in total isolation, you slowly become more and more stir crazy. Mostly, you look out the window. Sometimes, you do situps and pushups or practice the self-defense exercises that Changbin and Felix had taught you until exhaustion. You take a few naps. You take a shower. You finish the latest book that Hyunjin let you borrow. Chan visits you for dinner. You do not speak with him, eat your meal in silence, and watch as he leaves. You go to sleep for the night with an empty, hollow and rotting sensation in your chest that you have never experienced before. It might be anger directed towards Chan, but also an empty feeling knowing that you are unable to see Felix, who is in the same house as you. You wonder if he feels the same as you right now. 

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

You wake up to the sound of Chan unlocking your door in the morning with breakfast. You break your silent treatment, finally, though probably more out of boredom than anything else. You only respond to his small talk, tell him that the food is alright. 

The longer increments of time that would pass, the more anger you would find bubbling in your chest. 

“Do you really expect to keep me locked here forever?” you snap at one point. You have just finished rereading The Stranger by Albert Camus for the third time. “You know that’s how people start to lose their minds? Is that what this is? A torture device? Or is it still a sick, twisted ploy to get me to fall in love with you?” you walk around the room, pacing. Your hands are strung through your hair haphazardly as you let out a laugh. “Some sort of Stockholm syndrome to the extreme? You already fucking tried that, Chan! I’m stuck in this house with you, I can’t leave, and it didn’t work. What is your plan here?”

He blinks at you, sitting on your bed and crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.” 

“You… you don’t know?” 

He chuckles and you feel your blood begin to boil. “Well, I mean, I don’t know how long I plan to keep you here. At least until the Heeseung drama boils down. Until I feel confident that Felix is just as broken down about this as you are? I mean, it’s the point of a punishment, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Obviously I know you aren’t going to fall in love with me right now, not like this, yeah? But the thought of you and Felix, it’s so wrong, y’know? So I gotta nip it in the bud.” 

You blink away a tear but wipe it away quicker than he can see. You won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see you cry. 

“I hate you,” you spit. When Chan stands, he closes the distance between the two of you. He swipes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You might want to watch your mouth for now, especially when you’re the one who’s not in control,” he coos. “If you want to start getting your privileges back, you might want to consider upping the sweet talk.” He leaves as a chill racks through your body and the door slams shut, lock clicking into place behind him. 

You’re not quite sure about *sweet talking*, per say, but you suppose you could calm it down with Chan for now in order to get things back to the way they were. It’s really hard, with the way your anger bubbles every time he enters the room, every additional hour that passes. You start to feel delirious, depressed with nothing much to do, sleeping far too much and eating far too little. 

The flowers start to wilt. 

The flowers that Chan had given you for your date. You don’t even know how long ago that was at this point, feeling a bit too disoriented. You watch over days as the petals start to turn brown, curling up into themselves and falling to the floor. It’s only once every flower has finally turned to black that you convince Chan to let you leave your room. 

It’s only to Hyunjin’s room that he lets you go at first. He supervises your visit. You sit on the corner of Hyunjin’s bed and you sit and talk, nodding politely when he speaks. He updates you on Seungmin’s condition, shows you his newest painting (which is stunning beyond belief), and talks about his latest venture to the bookstore. It’s more than he’s ever talked to you at once, and you’re sure he’s doing it because he knows the effects that the isolation has had on your head, but you appreciate it more than he could ever imagine. 

Chan checks his wrist watch, clearing his throat. He tells you it’s almost time for you to go and you can’t help the panicked feeling that bubbles in your chest. You know that Hyunjin notices it too, the frantic look in your eye as you look to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You wonder if he and Chan got into a disagreement about it, if anybody besides Felix had the gall to stand up to him about your circumstance but it’s unlikely. 

As Chan guides you out, Hyunjin remembers something, handing you a new book as if it were an afterthought. A brand new copy of Wuthering Heights is placed into your hands. 

“I think you’ll really like this one,” Hyunjin muses. “I hope we get a chance to talk about it soon. I purchased this at that bookstore I was telling you about. Let me take you there one day, okay?” 

You smile at him. A true, genuine, smile before Chan takes you back to your room for dinner. Feeling a little more hopeful, you eat more than usual and talk to him more than yesterday. You think he’s expecting you to thank him. You don’t. He wishes you a good evening before he locks you in your room for the evening. 

Something about Hyunjin’s words had struck you as odd. “I hope we get to talk about it soon.” Since you moved in and Hyunjin had started giving you new books to read, although he was always very sure of himself in his choices, you had never really talked about your choices. Even today during your conversation you didn’t talk about Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which you had read a whopping four times since your isolation.

This is why you’re not as surprised when you open the book and you find a note, wedged neatly between page eight and page nine. It’s not Hyunjin’s handwriting, but Felix’s. You can’t help it when your heart picks up and beats against your chest, a smile against your face despite yourself. 

‘Dear Sunshine,

I am so sorry for everything. Each day that I have not been able to see you and that I have known that you have been behind those doors has been Hell for me, as I’m sure they’ve been Hell for you as well. Let me take you far, far, away from this place if you would let me.

If you will take me, if you want this as much as I do, let us leave tonight. Leave your bathroom light on tonight and I will know that it will be okay for us to make our escape. 

Love, LF.’ 

Are you really reading this correctly? 

It was the first night here that Chan took off his belt and whipped you with it just for leaving when he told you not to leave. What would the punishment be if you and Felix were caught? You knew the answer, and you found yourself grimacing as you thought about it. If Chan found out that you and Felix had escaped—and you had a very, very short window of time before he came looking for you, until breakfast tomorrow—he would surely kill the two of you in cold blood.

Felix, was he really to risk it all for you? No questions asked? You knew you were. 

Turning off all lights in your room, leaving just your bathroom light on for the signal and to light up your path, you get ready. You throw on some clothes, a pair of thick socks and a pair of sneakers, athletic pants and a t-shirt underneath a hoodie. You try to dress both light-weight but also warm, easy for mobility in case you have to do some running. And you take a quick nap, since it’s still light out and you’re sure that the plan won’t take place until after nightfall and you should probably be well-rested. 

You’re right. You wake up a few hours later and it’s dark outside. Felix still hasn’t shown yet. You sit right by your door and wait for him. You wait and wait and wait, your heart beating so heavily out of your chest it might explode. You literally have to calm yourself down with breathing exercises several times because you find yourself so worked up. You can’t help it–you’re so nervous about seeing him again, and about the escape, about his plans, though you’re sure he has something planned out. 

After some time has passed, you almost wonder if maybe he isn’t going to show, but you laugh at that thought. It’s Felix. Of course he’s going to show. You have never met someone more true to his word and dedicated. You just hope that everything is going according to plan. And sure enough?

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

Light from the hallway spills into your room, encasing the darkness that surrounded you. When you jump to your feet, Felix pulls you in for a very chaste kiss. His name spills silently from your lips and you see him smile before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a silent run down the hallway. You can already tell that there is going to be a long night ahead of you, though you’re relieved when Felix leads you to a mundane car, a dark mini-van, and you can’t help but think thank god we aren’t literally running away. 

You hurriedly get into the passenger seat, Felix the driver’s seat, and the two of you drive away. You watch as the house gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror behind you until it completely disappears, and most of your anxiety along with it. 

“You came for me.” you say finally. 

“Of course I did,” Felix says, his voice soft. “I just had to work out the logistics. I’m so so incredibly sorry it took me that long. I hope you can forgive me.” 

“It’s really happening?” you ask him. “We’re really leaving?” 

Felix only smiles. “I did everything I could. I was even able to get your sister out of your house, I sent her somewhere safe where Chan can’t find her to retaliate.”

“Thank you, Felix,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Really, really, thank you.” 

He reaches over the center console and grabs your hand, bringing it to his face to kiss along your knuckles. 

“You have no need to thank me. This is my escape too. In reality, I owe you just as much.” Your heart squeezes at his words. You don’t really understand the weight behind his words but you hope that he will open up to you about them one day. About his past and his history with Chan. You stare at Felix, at the way the passing headlights illuminate his face and accentuate his features, and you just sit there and watch and watch, drinking him in and hoping that you will never have to let him go again. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re expecting to arrive at some sort of hotel/motel, similar to the one you and Felix had shared after the night at the gala. What you weren’t expecting was an apartment building, at least ten stories tall in the middle of a city a few hours away. 

Felix parks the car, a protective hand around your waist the whole walk to the building. He holds you so close you find it almost difficult to walk. The elevator takes you up to the eighth floor, where Felix leads you down the hall. The building looks well-kept, maintained inside, contrasting from its run-down exterior. 

Felix leans over the door, typing a code into the keypad. It swings open revealing a large furnished studio apartment. 

“This place looks really nice,” you admit. “It is a step-up from the motel. How did you…” 

“Chan isn’t the only one that has his connections,” Felix says, sighing as he throws a backpack down next to him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. He walks around the apartment several times, making sure that every window is locked and secure as well. “It’s safe here. We should be able to stay here for a few days before we need to pick up again. But this place is completely alarmed and equipped with security codes. He won’t find us here, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod. You really do trust him. You feel safe. 

“The password for the front door is 0325,” Felix tells you. You don’t know why that action alone makes you want to tear up. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re really free. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, shucking your hoodie off of your body. You don’t miss the way his eyes rack over your frame at the way your shirt picks up slightly. How does he still manage to make you blush? “How did you get the code for my door?” you ask him. You had been wondering about it for a while, as there was no way that Chan had given it to him. 

“Hyunjin told me,” Felix discloses. “He was the only other person besides Chan that knew the code, in case of an emergency or if Chan was away and he needed to give you food.” 

“He was the only one?” you ask. “But that means… Won’t Chan know that Hyunjin…” 

“Hyunjin has already come to terms with things,” Felix says remorsefully. “I didn’t want it to go down like this either, but Hyunjin really was willing to make a sacrifice for you. For both of us. Nothing horrible is going to happen–he isn’t going to be killed, but I’m sure the punishment will be brutal.” 

You shake your head, unwilling to believe his words. “I can’t believe Hyunjin would do that for us. I really thought he was loyal to Chan.” 

“At the end of the day there must have been something he found more important to put his trust in,” he smiles. “I think he realized how bad your mental state was after spending over a week in that room.” 

“It was over a week?” you nearly cry. Felix holds you tight to his chest. You don’t cry–you’ve already come to terms with what has happened. When you pull apart, you look into his eyes and find that he has tears of his own that have started to build up. Now that is something that you had not anticipated. 

“I’m sorry–” he starts to say, but you crash your lips into his instead. Your hands pull into his hair and you push your body into his, do anything you can to get your body as inhumanly close to his as possible, so that you can feel every touch of his skin against yours. 

Felix’s hands wander underneath your hoodie, tugging off the material and throwing it to the floor in a desperate show. His hands roam your body, his lips never once leaving your skin. This time he makes it a show to suck a mark into any available surface, licking and sucking dark purples and pinks into your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts–any area of skin that was once pristine now has Felix’s claim on it. 

“You’re mine, do you understand? You’re mine and I’m yours.” 

“Yes, Felix, yes,” you agree, letting him push you back against the bed. He towers over you for a second, dropping to his knees onto the floor so that he can pull off the material of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to. You push your thighs together, utterly exposed in front of him but also so aroused by his stare and he grabs your thighs, pushing them apart. 

“Beautiful,” he comments. You throw an arm over your face, embarrassed by his comment. “Don’t hide from me, angel,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “You’re mine, right? Can I compliment what’s mine? You’re not going to hide away what’s mine, hmm?” When you don’t immediately answer him, your chest rising and falling rapidly from his words, you feel a slight pinch come from inside your thigh. You look down at his mischievous face to realize he has just lightly slapped your inner thigh to get a response. 

“N-no, Felix,” you moan. 

“No, what?” he teases, his mouth going higher and higher still, his breath right above your center but waiting. 

“No, I’m not going to hide from you. Yes, you can compliment me,” you reply.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he groans. “Prove it, then. Open those legs wide for me.” And you do. You spread your legs as far as they would go and Felix rewards you by immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit like a man starved. As much as your thighs tremble and shake and threaten to close, you don’t let them. Your eyes stay on Felix, and his eyes on yours. 

Suddenly, Felix pulls away with a pop. 

“What–”

He climbs onto the bed and lays down, leaving you utterly confused before he grabs you by the waist, manhandling you effortlessly by the waist onto his face. 

“Felix, what are you doing?” 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs as if trying to coax you down to properly take your seat. 

“Are you sure? I–”

“Please, just, use me. Make yourself cum, and then I’ll fuck you open on my cock.” You can’t deny how appealing his words sound, and he had already worked you up just seconds ago so you can’t find the resolve to protest much longer. Eagerly, you sit. His tongue prods your entrance, pushing in as far as it will go. You rock yourself back and forth on his face, your clit occasionally catching on his nose, and you find Felix’s hands taking place on your ass to help you find your pace. 

Once you build up a rhythm you ride him in earnest, like nothing matters but him beneath you right now and your climax building up. He knows you’re close when he feels your thighs clench tighter around your head and your back starts to arch back, and your noises have become louder. You do exactly what he told you to do–you use him for your pleasure until you’re having one of the longest, most drawn-out orgasms of your life. 

When you finally crawl off of him, Felix wastes no time before flipping your positions, making your stomach turn with butterflies. He pulls his pants off in one swift motion and you take a moment to look at him in awe, to really just appreciate him and his beautifully toned body despite seeing it a few times before. 

You watch as he strokes his cock a few times, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He pushes forward, and just to tease–intentionally catches the head of it on your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. 

“Felix!” your hips buck up, your legs wrap around him, doing anything you can just to get him to enter you properly. 

“Do you want me that bad?” he asks with a smile, his voice a low timbre in your ear. 

“Yes, Felix, stop fucking teasing me, you know I want you–” and with that, he pushes right into you, fully sheathing himself in one thrust. Your hands come up to push crescent fingernail indents into his shoulders, just to ground yourself from the overwhelming sensation. 

Felix wastes no time before fucking you like he really means it, his hips pulling out to meet yours flush each time. The way his hips roll in a fluid motion into yours has you crying out, wrapping your legs around him. 

“Fuck, you’re clenching me so tight,” he pants. “I’m going to cum soon, baby. Where do you want it?” 

You wrap your legs even tighter around him. 

His hand snakes up to your neck, just placing it there, not even squeezing but it still causes you to cry out with a moan that is borderline pornagraphic. 

“You’re being so dirty, baby. Are you trying to tell me something? You want me to cum inside? Because you’re going to have you use your words to tell me that or else it’s not gonna happen,” he grins. 

His hips snap into yours so hard it’s almost bruising, but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you think you could fall over the edge any second. 

“FELIX,” you finally cry out. You’re sure the scratches you’re leaving into his back are going to leave marks, if not bleed. 

“Fuck, you gotta tell me now.” 

“Inside! Inside! I want you to cum inside, fuck, I love you Felix, please!” you sob. 

He kisses you. Rather, his lips smash into yours so hard you’re not sure what is happening, but you’re cumming so hard it’s blinding. You can feel him still as he fills you up with warm ropes of his cum. 

When you both finally come down, Felix flops beside you and you immediately curl into his chest. He embraces you, his hands stroking unknown symbols into your skin. 

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks. 

You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. “Yes,” you reply. “I think I’ve known it for a long time.”

“I love you, too.” Felix tells you, grabbing your chin so that he can press another kiss into your lips. “You mean the world to me.” 

That night, Felix looks around the apartment again, making sure that everything is in its place. When you see that there is both a couch and a bed, you make a joke about sleeping on the couch that causes him to quite literally pick you up and throw you into bed with him. You fall asleep like that, intertwined in his arms, not worried about accidentally getting caught and what the consequences might be tomorrow. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You toss and turn. Images plague your mind. A guilt-ridden feeling plagues your gut. 

Minho, who gets anxiety on missions, who wanted to get away from his family and the life of crime from his childhood, but couldn’t let Jisung go alone for fear of what Chan would do to him.

Changbin, who has only wanted to protect his family, but instead Chan has held that over his head.

Hyunjin, who didn’t really know how to find himself after being told who to be, who didn’t know what to do with his life, exploited by Chan. 

Jisung, who has never had anybody tell him that he is good for more than shooting things and a life of violent crime, and had Chan take advantage of that. 

Seungmin, who had only one dream and had it taken away through an injury, was falsely promised by Chan that one day he could get the surgery and recover to play baseball again. 

Jeongin, who turned to a life of crime but was told he could have the money to go to fashion school, all if he would become Chan’s lackey. 

Even Felix, who you’re sure has been through something just as horrible, though he hasn’t told you yet… 

At the end of the day, there’s one common factor in all of this evil. 

You know that you can’t stay here and live a fantasy life, where you get to escape and be free while the rest of them are trapped there and still living in a nightmare. At the end of the day, you have started to develop close relationships with each and every one of them, and you can’t bring yourself to think more about the horrors that Chan continues to inflict on them each day while you get to run away with Felix. 

Picking up Felix’s arm, you kiss him on the head. You feel very remorseful for what you’re about to do, for the amount of mental anguish you are probably about to put him in when everything was finally going to go your way. You wish you could have relished in this a little bit longer. 

Opening up the bedside table, you grab Felix’s car keys and his gun. 

This has to end, and it has to end now. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: we're getting close to the end! two main chapters and two mini chapters left!! sorry for the delay today guys, I only had this chapter half written i wrote the rest in a coffee shop lol <3

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[cumaeansibyl]

The Substance

short version: five out of five stars, I had so much fun, for God's sake read the CWs. there are so many needles in this.

further thoughts: I think the viciousness of this movie rests on Elisabeth (Demi Moore) having built her career on promoting the very same unattainable beauty standards that she finds herself in conflict with. It's no coincidence that she's not just an actress, she's a celebrity fitness instructor. Going on TV every morning to tell us all that our bodies aren't good enough. She threw her lot in whole-heartedly with the beauty merchants, she preened and profited, and then she was shocked -- shocked! -- when they inevitably, predictably turned on her.

It's also telling that once she's injected the titular Substance and generated a new, young, beautiful version of herself, what does she do? She goes right back to the same business as before. Being sexier, fitter, more desirable than anyone else. Telling everyone their bodies still aren't good enough. Well, why not? Even her own body wasn't good enough for her anymore.

Coralie Fargeat has zero fucking sympathy for her and I feel the same. Oh, is it hard now? Is it alienating and dehumanizing and humiliating? Did you never bother developing yourself as a person because you were too busy peddling feminine oppression for Dennis Quaid, of all people? Fuck you! Suffer harder! You are complicit!

I would love to know how this lands for conventionally attractive women -- I never put in a sustained effort of this kind because it was made quite clear to me from a young age that the "right" kind of beauty would not be available to me. That comes with its own pain and its own fantasies about a "perfect" version of myself, but I suspect it's a different set.

I also wonder what trans women think of it, because while it's a very cis woman story (in that Elisabeth has always been a conventionally attractive girl and woman) it's also like... about transforming into a more desirable version of yourself, which, come on.

Finally, I feel like there's some disability commentary to be had in here, though that's not a subject I'm well versed in. I did find myself thinking, from time to time, that to many people it would be very tempting to have a body with no pain, a body that always moved easily and performed all its functions with no trouble. Even if only sometimes.

[fallenneziah]

hello!!! Sorry to bother or bother you, but I was wondering if you could tell me Tmnt Bayverser's reaction to a reader doing parkour? like they are very good at it, but as no one is perfect sometimes they end up with some marks on their bodyfor example, the reader reaches out to greet Bumblebee and the Optimus eyes fixate on the purple bruise on the reader's skin

Optimus: You're running again, aren't you?

reader: yes!!! I broke my record!!

At first I was a tiny bit confused since you seemed to reference Ninja Turtles but then you brought up transformers... So I'm assuming you want Transformers. Thanks for the asks anon, I apologize for this being stuck in my drafts for so long. 😓

Transformers x Reader who does Parkour.

I'd like to think that they aren't that new to the concept. Thri seeking, tricks, jumping around on things and still doing it even after getting hurt.

I'm sure other than the very extreme gladiator pit and other training arenas that they had things like that on Cybertron.

Although you are different from them, so Optimus doesn't totally understand why you would do something that would cause you pain.

When he saw your bruises and callouses when meeting you he was curious.

He bent down, looking at you, scanning you. Then he introduced himself. "My name is Optimus Prime," you do your best to shake his hand, holding onto his finger. That's when he noticed a bruise on your bicep.

He hummed thoughtfully. "You're injured." You looked down and chuckle. "No, I'm not, I'm actually just a sporty person. The bruises are normal."

"Do you need medical examination?"

"Nah, I'll be alright." You smile at him, and Optimus nods.

Overtime of your friendship with the team they come to understand more of what you do. Bumblebee will drive with you to the outdoor climbing park so he can watch you from some feet away as you do your thing.

He used to be something of a parkour artist on Cybertron as well I would think. But they did become much more concerned for you.

You returned to base early, huffing and puffing, covered in sweat when you saw Optimus, his attention stolen by your state. "Y/n, I'd wondered if you'd disappeared. Are you alright??"

You nodded, bending down and settling your hands on your knees. "I'm good, big guy- phew- oh man that was fun."

Optimus raised an optic ridge and approached, kneeling down to you again. "You've been running again then?" You nod, leaning against his hand that he offers so you can relax. When you grab on he notices a few setting bruises.

"Seems you've been busy."

"I had to break my record." You pant, looking up at him with an electrifying smile.

Optimus firmly nods, hearing the sound of bumblebee coming over, noticing you. His radio going off with a "Hallelujah everybody!"

You chuckle breathlessly and smile. "Hey 'Bee! I broke my record!!"

Bumblebee revs his engine and bends down next to Optimus, who leans you back up and steps back for some space.

"Oh yeah 'Bee." You showed him your watch, which had recorded your time. "Look at that 😄"

Bumblebee whirred loudly, giving you a fist bump.

He noticed the bruises, whining softly, checking them. "Oh they aren't too bad 'Bee. I'm just a little banged up."

Your way of explaining bruises to the team had been it's essentially buffering, the dent stays for a bit until your body buffers it out.

'Bee nodded, gently patting your head.

Now, If Ratchet ever saw your injuries you know he's be ready to lecture you. Telling you how humans are inherently stupid for getting themselves hurt all the time. Unless you point out how they fight and get hurt all the time... Then he'll shut up and just look you over.

He doesn't dislike you, he cares for you and your fragile human body very much.

Overtime they get used to you coming back with minor injuries like bruises. Bumblebee even gets into how big can the bruise get?? And you entertain the idea while the others just... Watch in disbelief of you two.

And then one day you come back with a little more than a bruise. Bumblebee came to pick you up, whirring when he saw the wrist guard you were wearing.

"It's ok 'Bee, just a sprain."

'Bee whirred his engine. and on the way back to their little hideout you told him what a sprain was.

Yeah, don't even get me started on what happened when Optimus saw that. Sauntering into base without a fully functioning hand!? Off to Ratchet!

"Y/n, you need to be more careful." Optimus said while leading you to Ratchet.

"I know, but we've got medical tools to help me heal Optimus, it's not like I'm dying." You teased.

He shot you a look, a brief note of frustration, before resting his expression again. "I am still going to let Ratchet look at you."

You gulped. Aw man...

When Optimus brought you in, Ratchet reacted how you can expect. He crossed his arms and took a look at your hand. "You aren't being careful." He said firmly.

"I am-"

"No more running, even after you heal." He said firmly.

"Yeah, well you can't ban me." You also crossed your arms.

Optimus sighed softly, giving his old friend a look. They didn't understand, but hey, if you wanted to do it, they couldn't stop you. They just worried when you got hurt.

[icarusredwings]

This post may not be suitable for littles or people who get uncomfy with mentions of baby making stuff. IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK THO I SWEAR!!!!

Wade:

Thinking about how much Wade loves babies when he's small.

He's holding Logan's hand down the street as they're running errands, and he's being so good, like SUPER good. Not running away, litsening to instructions, using his words in a way Kitty can understand.

He doesn't even have Fluffy with him either, so he's doing all of this with minimal emotional support, just his chewy star necklace and one of Logans big hoodies. He's in some colorful leggings, though, and in his pocket is nothing but a snack. Not even his cup.

Bro is raw dogging the adult outdoors as his small self with practically nothing. He's still wearing his dog tags, though, just in case he gets lost, they're used as a source of identification.

Ealier, when Wade wanted to pet a stray cat instead of just running off, he gasped and pointed to it. "Kitty!" Which is obviously code for "Look! A cool thing!" So when Logan looked, he saw how polite Wade was behaving.

"Be gentle, okay? Sometimes, they don't like humans." He tells him, carefully walking him over in which Wade just squats down to pet the cat very nicely. You would think 'yeah no duh he wouldn't hurt it,' and you would be correct, though sometimes he pets them too rough or moves too quickly so they get scared and scratch him.

Right now, he's bored, leaning on his shoulder and starting to get fussy because paying bills is boring, and he wants to go home. Chewing on his star, he stops, and his eyes light up, seeing a stoller.

Wade loves strollers. Because where there is a pram- Theres a babe. And babies were great. (Unless they were screaming, and then they were not)

He tugs a bit on Logan, but he's ignored because he's trying to ask the internet service people why they charged them 15 extra this month when nothing changed. "Kitty!" He points, looking at him for consent to go see the baby. Frustrated, confused, and not looking, Logan assumes that he sees another cat and waves a hand. "Yeah, sure. Be gentle."

So, being given the okay, Wade practically skips over to the stroller and crouches down to see a chunky cheeked baby boy. His mum is busy on the phone, so she doesn't even notice a grown man cooing over the child.

Giggling to the baby, he lets him grab his finger and nibble on it. Tickling his cheeks and stuff, you know. Baby stuff. So when he takes off his hood to let the baby play with his necklace, the baby gets upset and starts to cry.

I think we would all cry if we saw a glowy yellow eyed man smiling at us like that with such unfarmiliar skin. You have to remember, babies only know what they're shown, and I doubt it's ever seen anything like this before.

Of course, it cries. And the crying alerts the mom. "Ooh shh, Steven, you're al- Ahh!! Who are you! Get away from my baby, you freak!"

Getting shooed away, he whines, unsure of what he did wrong. Was it bad to play with babies? His head said No.

"What is wrong with you!?"

"I-i... but.." he dosn't know what to say, tries to explain that he didn't do anything bad and that he was sorry but she dosn't seem to care about his words. This is New York afterall. Kids are stolen all the time here.

The yelling, of course, makes Logan think "Great some idiot made the baby cry," only to pause and wonder where Wade went. "OH SHIT that's MY idiot." He thinks and instantly becomes protective, growling as he gives in and throws the extra money at the tiller. Coming outside, he steps in front of Wade. Sure, Wade is a weirdo, but he wouldn't do anything to the baby. Right??

"What's your deal lady!?"

"He tried to take my son!!" She says, assuming the worst.

Logan gives a glance to Wade, who's already crying and shakes his head, unable to get any words out, but "I'm good!" Seeing as various times today, Logan has praised him for behaving. "You're being so good today, kid."

"No he didn't! Now take your ugly pup and get!"

A bit more of arguing, and she finally goes on her way, complaining about New York Weirdos.

After that, he starts asking Wade why he was touching a random baby and honestly just running his mouth that he knows better and shouldn't do that, etc.

Almost instantly, it stops, though, because he's already crying. He lets out this huge sigh. "Fine... Im sorry.. I know you like babies. How about I give you a baby. Would you like that?"

Logan doesn't mean it in the way Wade thinks, obviously, as his eyes widden, sniffling. "You're gonna give me a baby!?"

"Yeah, sure-"

"We're gonna have a baby!!!??"

"WAIT- No! Not like that!"

He squeals and excitedly flaps his hands, continuing to go on about how 'Mommy tried to give him a baby, but it didn't work'

Slapping his hand over his face, he's so embarrassed, blushing all the way down his neck and up his ears. He shakes his head and growls. "SHHH!!! That's not what I meant!! We can't even have a baby moron!" I mean, who wouldn't be embarrassed about their partner OPENLY talking about their past relations in public?

So- He does what every person does when their partner is obsessed with babies by can't have any.

He takes him to the thrift store to pick one out.

[erabu-san]

First of all, I would like to thank you so much for all your support and your kind message !! Thank you so much for being patient with me too !! (you will see, I thanks a lot in this post lol)

Haha tbh I believe that ignoring and move on is a great way too! Yeees when I read this anon ask, I was wondering if they are living somewhere where pale person are oppressed and they are personally in this case and it affects them so badly that they have so much hate in them or they are just being hateful toward poc w/o any explication ? It was a bit uncomfortable And what is appealing with Genshin Impact (for me) is the fact that they use real culture to create their game ; even in the last survey, they ask if we like Natlan's authenticity (weird they only ask abt environment and music, i think they know they have issue with character design bahaha). I learn a lot about persian, algerian, but also chinese and even about french culture ! It is because people recognize themself that they start talking about it. I know there is a lot of controversial topic in Natlan, but because of this, I learn a lot on Hawai'i 's culture too. So yes, even if it is fiction, representation *is* important. And it is because they take inspiration of their culture that there is people who want a better representation, and in my opinion, this is something to not ignore !

About taking well what anon said, thank you so much ! If i can be honest tho, I didn't take it very well neither, or just I don't know how do I really felt at the moment I am an adult but I still hard time to distinguish what is morally okay or not, what is bad and good ? So if someone doesn't tell me they are explicitly a bad person with bad intention, I won't get it haha (ofc I grew up and now I identify my value and morals, but I still questionning if my morals are objectively great or not- yeaaah i was called weird for that, I am aware) Since forever I always try to understand other so I can communicate properly (at least I try), and that's why I am always interested on how does people think, why do they react in this specific way etc etc. Pro, I am patient and can take even the most violent take "well" (all depends. I am still a human) Con, I give free speech to those who have a "bad" take </3 and I apologize for that aaaa

KFSDLFSD I wish to express my angryness sometime but I just don't know if it is really adequate What if I interpret their text in wrong way as they initially try to say ? I wasn't feel offended by what they said, I was just uncomfortable because their opinion is something I consider hateful. and what if i was wrong??? But reading you all's opinion just affirm that's they were indeed rude ! I should stop overthink, life would be easier Maybe next time I have a doubt I will ask my friends's opinion before answering ksdkfsf

Oh my god thank you !!! If i can be honest, I draw Kinich this way because when I draw him w a darker skin for the first time, I thought "Oh !!! he looks so cool !!!!" and seeing a lot of positive comment abt my Kinich just makes me happy so I keep him like this ! And thank you for sharing with me informations !<<333 This is not overstepping at all ! And it is a reciprocate feeling anon ! It might be a bit weird but "angry" is such a complex feeling for me. I feel it but I don't really know how to express it in the most healthy way and it is super frustrating. So... seeing people getting mad at something I also disagree on makes me feel better !! And for this, thank you all !

I SNORT SO HAAAARD Damn Macron you again..........!! I didn't put all ask here but I read them all !! Thank you for sharing with me your opinion and reaction, it is truly interesting (and way more relaxing that the hater anon kskskss) !! and again, your support is truly meaningful for me. You all have sincere gratitude Hope y'all have a great day !! Stay hydrated too <3

[writeriguess]

instead talking about Bakugou a little older than the reader? he in comparison has had a lot of experiences compared to her, but she in fact feels insecure about this, and would like some reassurance, but at a certain point Bakugou has a fit of jealousy and at that point she makes him understand how much he loves her, it would be too cute🎀 (+smut) THANKS

You had always admired Bakugou Katsuki from afar. His fiery personality, his unrelenting drive, and his overwhelming confidence made him impossible to ignore. Now, being with him felt like a dream—but sometimes, that dream turned into insecurity. After all, he was older, more experienced, and you often found yourself wondering if you measured up.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Bakugou was pacing the room, towel draped over his neck after a long, hard day. His messy blond hair was still damp from the shower, and the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. As you watched him, the words that had been bothering you for days finally tumbled out.

“Katsuki… you’ve been with more people, right?”

His movements froze mid-step, and he turned to look at you, brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”

You lowered your gaze, unsure of how to voice the insecurities swirling inside you. “It’s just… you’ve done a lot. Been with people, had more experiences. And I’m just—well, I feel like I’m behind. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His eyes softened, but there was a fire flickering behind them. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakugou’s voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I care about any of that?”

You blinked, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. “I mean, you’ve done so much already, and I’m just… I don’t know, Katsuki. I feel like you deserve someone who’s on your level.”

His scowl deepened, but this time it wasn’t directed at you. “Tch, you’re an idiot sometimes, y’know that? You think I’m with you for your ‘experience’?” He crouched down to your eye level, his intense crimson eyes burning into yours. “I’m with you because you’re you. Don’t need anyone else, don’t want anyone else. Got it?”

You felt your heart swell at his words, but before you could fully process the warmth, Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he stood back up.

“Wait… is that why you’ve been talkin’ to that extra from your class? The one always hangin’ around you?” His fists clenched, and you could practically see the jealousy bubbling up in him. His jaw tightened as if just the thought of it made his blood boil. “You think you need someone like him instead of me?”

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t mad at you. He was jealous. Bakugou, for all his confidence and bravado, was actually worried about losing you.

“Katsuki, no,” you said, standing up and grabbing his arm. His muscles were tense, but you held on firmly. “He’s just a friend. No one comes close to you. No one could ever replace you.”

He turned his head away, still refusing to meet your eyes, but you could tell his resolve was cracking. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled your ears.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re all I need. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that.”

Bakugou’s hands hesitated before they finally settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip tightened as if he was scared to let you go.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “I love you, idiot.”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, his lips demanding yet gentle against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself being backed up against the bed, your legs hitting the edge.

“Katsuki…” you breathed out as he guided you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.

His eyes darkened with desire, the jealousy from earlier replaced by an intense need to remind you just how much you meant to him. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with need. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”

Bakugou’s lips crashed against yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your body. You gasped as his touch ignited a fire inside you, and before you knew it, your clothes were discarded, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your body as if he was trying to commit the sight to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “Katsuki… I love you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed anyone. He leaned down, kissing you softly before whispering against your lips, “I love you too.”

Katsuki’s hands were anything but steady as he started fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. His fingers, usually so sure and precise, trembled slightly in a way that was endearing—like even he was nervous despite how confident he usually seemed. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes locked onto yours as his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Damn thing,” he muttered, his impatience getting the best of him.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to still his hands. “Here, let me help,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing against his. His gaze softened for a moment, and he watched as you slowly undid the rest of the buttons yourself.

As the fabric parted, revealing more of your skin, Katsuki’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He slid his hands over your now exposed skin, his touch sending sparks of warmth through your body. You shivered, not from the cold but from the electric connection that pulsed between you.

“Katsuki,” you breathed his name, drawing him closer as your blouse slipped off your shoulders, landing softly on the floor. His mouth found yours again, but this time, his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of the possessiveness he had over you.

“Don’t know why you worry so much,” he murmured against your lips before kissing down your jawline to your neck. “You’re all I ever want.”

His words melted your insecurities, and you tilted your head back to give him better access. Each kiss, each graze of his teeth against your skin, sent a wave of warmth coursing through you. Your fingers tangled in his messy blond hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved lower.

“You’re perfect, you hear me?” Katsuki’s voice was rough, breathless, his jealousy from earlier forgotten as his focus shifted entirely to you. “No one else could ever come close to making me feel like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the haze of warmth and desire that clouded your mind. “You always know what to say, Katsuki.”

His response was a low growl of approval, his lips grazing your collarbone as his hands roamed lower, exploring the newly exposed skin. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed what you already knew: you were all he wanted, just as he was all you needed.

Katsuki’s lips trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The tension in the room thickened, his hands now tracing over the curves of your waist, gripping your hips with a possessive yet tender touch. As his lips hovered just above the edge of your bra, he paused, glancing up at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with need. He kissed the swell of your breast softly, almost as if he was holding himself back.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Katsuki…”

Hearing his name on your lips like that seemed to spark something in him. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and this time, there was no fumbling. He made quick work of it, tossing the fabric aside before lowering his head, lips grazing the newly exposed skin. His kisses turned hotter, more desperate, as his tongue flicked over one of your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch set your skin on fire, each kiss pulling you further into the storm that was Bakugou Katsuki.

You could feel the tension building between you both, the room growing hotter with every second. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, eager to feel his skin against yours. His muscles flexed under your touch, his body hard and warm as he pressed himself closer to you, almost as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I need you…”

The words seemed to unravel something inside him. His lips crashed against yours again, and in a rush, his hands went to the waistband of your skirt. In one swift movement, he pulled it down, taking your panties with it, leaving you completely bare before him.

He paused for a moment, eyes raking over your body, as if he needed to take you in—every inch, every curve, burning the image of you into his mind.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he was on you again, his hands sliding down your thighs, parting them gently as he settled between them. The intensity in his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly despite his strong grip, only fueled your desire. You reached for him, tugging at the waistband of his pants, needing to feel him, needing to close the distance that still remained between you.

“Katsuki, please…” you whispered, your voice heavy with need.

That seemed to snap whatever control he had left. In a blur of motion, his pants were discarded, and he hovered over you, his skin warm against yours as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—nothing else mattered.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words raw, almost vulnerable as he aligned himself with you.

Before you could respond, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he held himself still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

“You feel… so damn good,” he breathed, his voice strained with the effort it took to stay still.

You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin as you whispered his name, urging him to move. And he did, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours with a delicious rhythm that had you trembling beneath him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in him.

Katsuki’s pace quickened, the desperation in his movements mirroring your own. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, as if he wanted to merge with you entirely.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened with every thrust. “Only yours, Katsuki…”

His response was a low growl, his grip tightening as he drove into you harder, faster. “That’s right,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine… all mine.”

The intensity of his words, the sheer possessiveness in his voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry, your body tightened around him, pleasure exploding through you in waves as your climax washed over you. Katsuki followed soon after, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own release, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

For a moment, the world was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you clinging to each other as you came down from the high.

Katsuki collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close.

“I love you,” he whispered again, quieter this time, but just as sincere.

You smiled, snuggling into his warmth as you whispered back, “I love you too, Katsuki. Always.”

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