#or not being clear enough with what I’m asking

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: reader is a bit insecure, little sprinkle of jealous eddie, reader wears glasses, smooching, also the finest cheese in all the land (i hope) <3

part one | part two

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this ended up bit longer than i intended so oops. but big thanks to @strangerstilinski for brainstorming some ideas with me to further cheesify the kissing scene. and another HUGE thank you to @undead-supernova for helping me with fix some things and for looking this over. I LOVE YOU BOTH <3

“What do you mean you didn’t kiss him?!”

You quickly turn to give Nancy a pointed glare before digging deeper into your locker to retrieve your biology textbook.

But really, it is a valid question.

“I— just,” you blow out an exasperated breath. “I panicked, alright? Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

While your date didn’t end on a bad note by any means, it definitely ended on a lame one.

When Eddie dropped you off at home after the two of you spent way too much time cozying up in a corner booth at Benny’s— you weren’t entirely ready to say goodnight to him yet.

But when he walked you to your front door and carefully started to lean in, those pesky nerves got the best of you. Instead, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before he had the chance to reach your lips.

Feelings of disappointment clawed at your insides once your lips brushed against the stubble on his cheek instead of his lips, your tinted chapstick leaving a tinge of pink in its wake. 

Eddie cleared his throat, carefully rubbing the back of his neck while he bid you goodnight. 

You’d barely shut the door behind you when your smile faltered and all those feelings of self doubt you’d managed to push aside all night came creeping back in. 

Everything was going so well, why couldn’t you just kiss him? It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed someone before. 

Your first kiss happened your sophomore year, with band geek Ray Howard in King Steve’s coat closet during a stupid game of 7 minutes in heaven that neither of you enjoyed. 

If you were brave enough to do that, why couldn’t you kiss the guy you actually liked? 

“Well, when are you gonna see him again?” Nancy prompts. You shrug once you slam your locker shut.

“I don’t know… I’m afraid he’s not gonna want another date. I mean, I gave him a peck on the cheek! How lame is that.”

You hug your textbooks to your chest as you head to class with Nancy, who is desperately trying to convince you that Eddie would be insane if he didn’t want to see you again.

You just hoped she was right.

When you don’t see him at lunch, you instantly deflate a little. The doom and gloom that lingers outside the school now mirrors your mood, taking any semblance of your appetite with it. You hadn’t seen him all day, so that only seemed to confirm your worries.

He’s avoiding you. What else could it be?

It’s not like him to skip out on lunch, so instead of heading further into the cafeteria you turn heel to head toward the library— 

And almost collide directly into Eddie.

His leather clad arms instantly wrap around you, a teasing smirk playing on his full lips. Lips you so desperately want to feel pressed against your own.

“Sweetheart, we really gotta stop meeting like this,” he teases, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “One of these days you’ll take both of us out.”

You let out a nervous giggle and an apology, relief filling your chest as his smile grows wider in response. Damn Nancy for always being right.

“Where are you headed in such a rush anyway?” he asks, finally letting you go, much to your dismay.

“Uh… the library. Wasn’t feeling super hungry.”

He nods, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He looks even prettier than when you saw him on Friday. His curls are a little more unruly, his stubble more pronounced. 

And when you catch the faintest hint of cigarette smoke lingering on his jacket and how it mixes with his spicy cologne— it has your heart stuttering in your chest.

“Well, anyway, I was wondering…”

A small grunt leaves his lips as his body is forced forward, directly into yours. The jock that just shoulder checked him mutters a “watch it, freaks” under his breath before continuing past you into the cafeteria.

The shove has closed the remaining distance between you, your faces merely inches apart now. Your palms resting against his chest, feeling how his breath slightly quickens beneath your fingertips. You could so easily kiss him like this, all you have to do is tilt your head up…

But you choke, eyes darting back down nervously toward your feet when you take a small step back.

“Are you alright?” you ask, meeting his eyes once more.

Eddie doesn’t even seem phased by what just occurred, his warm eyes entirely still focused on you.

“Oh, that’s nothing, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “I can handle myself.”

Eddie motions to his torso, lifting the lapels of his jacket as if to prove his point.

“See? Not even a scratch.”

And it takes all your self control to keep your eyes from wandering lower, past the soft cotton of his shirt, over the handcuff buckle of his belt…

Focus.

“Now, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” his voice raises in volume, eyes throwing a pointed glare towards the jocks table before they settle back on you. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Eddie nods towards the Hellfire table, your eyes drifting across the cafeteria. The familiar group of males are already seated at their usual spots, engaged in a heated debate over something.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eddie can sense your hesitation, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I promise they don’t bite.” He grins, beginning to lead you toward the lunch table. “Can’t say the same for me though.”

He whispers that last part, his lips playfully grazing over the shell of your ear. Eddie can feel how you shiver in response, thoroughly satisfied with himself as you try to compose yourself once you reach his friends.

The guys barely spare either of you a passing glance, still deep in their conversation when Eddie pulls up a chair for you. Right at the head of the table next to his own.

You take a seat with a polite smile, each of the members of Hellfire now noticing your presence. And they can’t hide their utter shock and surprise as Eddie takes his seat beside you. He introduces you properly, going along the table until he reaches the two youngest members of Hellfire.

“While we haven’t been able to coax Sinclair back from the dark side,” he sighs, resting his arm on the back of your chair. “You obviously know Wheeler and Henderson already…”

“Oh, Mike knows her alright,” Dustin interjects, mischievously glancing over at his best friend. “He used to have the biggest crush—”

Mike elbows Dustin in the side before he can even finish his sentence, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as he hangs his head.

“Would you shut it?” he hisses, already noting the way Eddie’s gaze hardens as he tugs your chair impossibly closer to his own.

“No… Henderson, please continue.”

A brow quirks up from underneath his bangs, and suddenly the whole table has gone silent, all eyes on their fearless leader.

Dustin nervously swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It was… really stupid kid stuff, not important! Just forget I even brought it up. It was just a dumb— ”

The younger male’s voice raises an octave when he laughs, his nerves shining through.

“— right, just a dumb little crush,” Mike finishes, but Eddie doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

When you suddenly rest your hand on his knee under the table, his composure begins to slip. His eyes soften when he looks down at you. The whole table is practically holding their breath, in anticipation for Eddie’s next move.

But you beat him to it.

“Someone had to be the president of my fan club, right?” you giggle.

Mike just groans in response, head falling to the table while the other guys begin to chatter amongst themselves again, that underlying tension now beginning to melt. Much like you are under the weight of his gaze.

“Well, I’d gladly take over that position, if you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the underlying meaning behind his words, and, god, you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you do right now.

When Eddie slowly begins to lean in, Dustin practically gags, the chiming of the lunch bell stopping everything in its tracks.

“Saved by the bell,” he mutters under his breath.

The brunette unwillingly rises to his feet and reaches out a hand for you to take, keeping you closely tucked into his side while he walks you to your next class.

Your mind was racing the rest of the afternoon, impatiently watching the hand on the clock tick by ever so slowly— desperately waiting for the final bell to ring.

After Eddie had walked you to history, he planted a playful kiss to the back of your hand. Giving you a dramatic bow before heading in the opposite direction toward Ms. O’Donnell’s classroom. 

You were a fumbling mess once when you took your seat next to Nancy, and you could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to know everything.

So you spilled the beans during your walk to English afterwards, a plan beginning to form in your head with each step closer to Ms. O’Donnell’s.

Three failed kissing attempts was all your poor heart could take, so you spent the entirety of the last period plotting how you’d be able to get Eddie alone.

Which was how you found yourself pacing back and forth on the football field, eyes scanning the trees for any possible signs of movement. The palms of your hands are sweaty despite the crisp air, the fabric of your sneakers dampening with each step you take through the wet grass.

And you’re wondering if maybe this was a stupid idea, that maybe you heard Jeff wrong.

You knew Eddie dealt weed, the whole school did. But having never dabbled with the leafy substance yourself, you weren’t exactly sure where he made his deals at. So it was a stroke of luck when you overheard Jeff mention it in passing to Grant during English.

Something about how he was going to be late for rehearsal because some jock wanted to buy a bunch of reefer behind the football field. And who was Eddie to refuse a good sale? Especially when the douche was offering him a lot of money.

You’re abruptly broken out of your thoughts when you finally see his lanky figure emerging from the tree line and your heart kicks into first gear— about ready to burst out of your chest with each step he takes towards you.

His curls are a little damp from the mist hanging in the air, that signature dimple indenting his cheek when a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

And despite your nerves, it’s a welcomed sight.

“Well, I didn’t take you for a stoner, sweetheart,” he begins.

But you don’t give him the chance to give you a proper greeting before you’re springing into action. Your fingers curl into the collar of his denim vest, meeting him halfway as you lean up to press your lips to his…

Only to end up knocking your heads together instead.

A small grunt of pain leaves him and your stomach twists in embarrassment, fingers gently pressing against your forehead as you wince.

“Oh my god, I am so—”

Those words barely have a chance to slip past your lips before he tilts your chin up and carefully molds his mouth over yours. His movements are slow but steady, as if gauging your response.

Your body reacts before your mind can fully process what’s happening, instinctively reeling him in closer and pressing your lips more firmly against his own. He hums softly, the sound setting your whole body alight.

As Eddie slips one of his hands around your waist, the other reaches up to tenderly cup your cheek. And when he begins to guide you backwards, you let him. Only stopping once your back is flush against the goal post. But even then, he doesn’t stop kissing you.

You can feel the cool metal seeping through the thin layer of your jacket, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface of your skin. But even with the cool air continuing to nip at your exposed skin, you feel like you’re on fire.

His lips are like molten honey, sugary sweet and practically melting you to your core. And you swear this is the closest to heaven you’ve ever felt.

When he eventually pulls away and you take a shuddering breath in, your eyes remain closed. You’re practically on cloud nine, basking in the lingering tingles that prickle over your lips. His hand remains on your cheek, thumb brushing over where his lips just were.

Eddie suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating against your chest while his breath washes over the apples of your cheeks. Only then do your eyes flutter open and you realize the reason behind his amusement.

Your vision is completely obscured, the round lenses of your glasses fogged over from the heat of his breath. You can just barely make out his smile through the frames, but the silliness of the moment has you letting out a giggle of your own.

“May I?” he asks, the tips of his fingers grazing over where the arms of your glasses meet your temples.

You nod immediately, allowing him to remove them with the utmost care. He untucks his Judas Priest t-shirt from his jeans, using the soft cotton to clear the fog away from your lenses. Even with your blurred vision, you manage to catch a glimpse of his tummy before it’s hidden away beneath his shirt again.

When his eyes flick up to meet yours, he can’t help but feel like he’s really seeing you for the first time. Not hidden away behind a book or the thick wire frames of your glasses. Just you, in all your unbridled beauty.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he carefully places your glasses back onto the bridge of your nose.

Eddie just grins, leaning his forearm on the goal post above your head. He smells faintly like weed and peppermint gum, and you really want him to kiss you again.

“How’s about I give you a ride home, hm?”

You can’t hide your smile, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie leans down to press one more searing kiss to your lips before he slips his hand in yours and pulls you along. The two of you now walking hand in hand across the football field.

“So, sounds like I’ve got some competition with Wheeler, huh?” he teases, squeezing your hand a little tighter in his.

“Oh come on, you’ve never had a crush on a babysitter before?”

Eddie takes a step in front of you, beginning to walk backwards while simultaneously guiding you forward.

“Well… considering my only babysitter was starting to bald and my uncle,” he practically shudders, “I’m gonna say no, sweetheart.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan admitted with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[flowerfreya]

Normalcy

The office AU - Part 16

Reader just wants to get back to normal , but the boys just want to take care of you

Poly!141 x reader

Crazy , ex girlfriend was banned from the premises, if spotted the people in the building were told to contact the 141. She would be violating her restraining order ( you did not know about this) and trespassing.

In the hospital, you did decide to press charges but you made it known you didn’t want to go to court and all that mess. You just wanted it to be over.

The boys felt like they owed you one. But also they just wanted to be there for you.

You wanted to go back to work once the doctor cleared you to go home from the hospital, showing up to the building the next day , sore but ready to work. The boys did not like that. At all.

“What are you doing here?” , John snaps at you.

It has you looking up from the computer, confused murmur, “working”, you answer back.

“Don’t you have a concussion”, Gaz says as he strolls in from the annex. His forehead is creased and he’s straining his eyes trying to see if you are in pain.

“No, only some bruising and messed up ankle”, you answer, starting to get annoyed. They were at the hospital with you almost the whole time. Asked more questions than you did. You know they are just making up shit to coddle you, and you don’t appreciate it (yes you do but you don’t want to admit that yet).

“Maybe yer should on the typing, hen. Might hurt your wrist” , Soap says from his seat, twirling his pen but looking as intense as the other men.

You just wanted to feel normal again. And you don’t have that much saving and definitely not enough PTO to have all this time off.

“I just need normalcy, please”, and money , you say to John.

He is still staring at you. Trying to figure you. Maybe trying to read your mind you don’t know but you look down at your keyboard hoping for him to leave you alone.

~

In the break room, your warming up a very sad microwavable meal when Simon comes in.

You give a tight lipped smile, “sorry no leftovers today”. He touches your arm causing you to jump, “alright”, he ask.

Shrugging your shoulders, “not really”, you say truthfully. You don’t know but being honest with Simon is easy. Maybe because he doesn’t give you solutions but offers a listening ear.

“I used up all my PTO and I’m for sure in the negative and I can’t afford it”, you say starting at the microwave. Embarrassed. A little ashamed that you everytime something good happens to you another thing ruins it.

“I can donate some of mine to you”, he say.

Your turn to him , shocked, not wanting to get your hopes up. “Are you allowed to do that”, you ask.

(Well first of all , Price was going to pay your regardless, wasn’t going to use your PTO at all, it’s his company, his money. But Simon knows that you wouldn’t want that, he knows that you want to be independent at least for a little bit).

“Already asked the boss”, Simon replies.

You let a sequel, jumping up and down (as much as you could do in a boot). Wrapping your arms around his neck, “thank you , thank you , thank you”, you feel all the stress just about to leave your body.

He huffs, “calm down”, grabbing you by the hips , he holds you in place.

He holds you closer, your chest to chest. Unconsciously matching your breath with his as he leans forward and buries his head where your neck meets your shoulder and inhales.

“Everything okay”, you ask. Holding your arms in the air unsure what to do with them. You know for a fact this inappropriate for work.

“Missed you”, he mumbles.

You didn’t really get a lot of time with him before getting hit by a car and everything.

You close your arms around him, leaving a little kiss on his head, “missed you too”.

[gothlcsan]

could you write a kind of pt.2 to myung jaehyun "puppy play" where taesan later admits to hearing reader and jaehyun, and possibly joins?

꒰ PLAY DATE ꒱ 태산 - 재현

when your and your boyfriend’s best friend admits to hearing the two of you have sex.. and wants to join

genre smut, subs!taesan x jaehyun x fem!reader tws pet names (puppy/kitty), threesome, dom!reader, jealous and very possessive jaehyun, no protection (use protection), not proof read .. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ author note thank you for the request, hope this serves you well, hehe ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ word count 2370

There’s a knock against your bedroom door, turning to look over your shoulder.

“Come in.”

Taesan cracks the door open far enough to poke his head in, a shy smile on his face.

“May I come in?”

Looking down at Jaehyun who gives you a pout, you face back to Taesan and nod.

“Come in, baby.”

That gains an annoyed squeeze on your arm from Jaehyun.

Taesan walks closer to where you and Jaehyun were sitting, attempting to wedge himself in between the two of you.

“Let me sit here too,” Taesan whines, fighting against Jaehyun who was trying to push him off the bed.

“Why do you want to sit here anyways, go away.” Jaehyun quipped as he gave a final forceful shove that made Taesan stumble off the bed and onto the floor. Quickly he stands up and turns around to angrily face Jaehyun, shoving him backwards.

“You’re not the only one who gets her attention, you clingy baby.”

“She’s mine.”

“She’s ours,” Taesan yells, eyes welled up in his eyes as he turns to face you for help. With a snap of your fingers, Jaehyun apologizes to Taesan and curls back into your side, telling Jaehyun to move over so that you can make room for Taesan on your opposite side. He tries to protest but with a simple expression he quiets instantly, huffing as he scoots over. There’s a triumphant smile across Taesan’s face as he climbs into bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your stomach so that he can nuzzle into your neck easier.

There’s finally peace within the bedroom as both men laid snuggled on each side of you, until Taesan lifts himself up so that he’s resting on his elbow staring at the two of you.

“If you need to say something, speak.”

A blush decorates his nose and cheeks, his fingers anxiously playing with the strings to your sweats.

“You remember the other day?”

“More specific,” you say with a sigh.

Taesan whines, clearing his throat before trying again.

“The other day when you and Jaehyun played-“

He’s cut off as Jaehyun sits up with a loud, “hey,” you pushing Jaehyun back down telling him to quiet down so Taesan could finish what he was saying.

“- I’m sorry I listened and,” he whines with a pout, “I want to play with you too.”

An accidental smile forms on your lip, exhaling through your nose as you nod at his confession.

“You want to play with us, hm?” You reiterated, trailing your fingers up his thigh to make him squirm, successfully doing so as he whines from your subtle touching. Nodding, he asks if he can, pretending to ponder on the idea before agreeing, telling Jaehyun to stop whining who was grumbling at the idea of sharing you. Taesan goes to climb on top of your lap, pushing him off with a shake of your head. He stared at you in confusion, having just gotten your permission, both men watching as you sat up and crossed your legs.

“Both of you, up.”

They listen, sitting up and being sure not to break their focus on you.

“Kiss.”

They stare at each other then back at you, another confused look across their faces.

“Each other,” they questioned.

You nod.

“Prove to me that the both of you can get along, you both do want me don’t you?”

Looking back at each other, they both look nervous before Jaehyun rolls his eyes and grabs Taesan’s face.

“We both want her, let’s get it over with.”

Jaehyun pulls Taesan into the kiss, Taesan froze into place before leaning into it, tiny moans coming from them as they got into it. Sitting up on his knees, Taesan follows suit with Jaehyun, his fingers curling in the older man’s hair. You watch them try to fight for the higher ground, pushing each other not breaking the kiss once as Jaehyun groans rather loudly into Taesan’s open mouth as his hair is pulled.

“Come here, my pretty pets,” you beckon for them.

Their lips separate, a string of saliva being the last connection between them before it breaks. Turning to face you, their eyes beginning to become hooded and full of need, giggling at them in amusement.

“You two seemed to enjoy that more than you figured, hm?”

They try to deny it, waving them off as you tell them to come closer to you. Ordering them to help you strip, guiding their shaky hands to your shorts. You watch as Jaehyun walks Taesan through the process, Jaehyun sweetly asking you to lift your hips for him, doing so that he can slip the shorts down and then past your ankles. They’re discarded mindlessly onto the bedroom floor, Taesan whimpering at the sight of your thong that barely left anything for their imagination.

“Are you going to take these off for me?” You asked Taesan who stared down at your panties then backed up to gain your permission, asking if he’s allowed to. Multiple pleases falling from his lips until you give the go ahead, his fingers curling around the hands of your panties. A gasp comes from him as he pulls them off your legs, seeing your wet pussy for the first time. He chooses to ignore how hard he got near instantly, huffing at Jaehyun who tells him to stop staring so intently.

“Both of you stop fighting or I'll get off by myself,” you groaned, yanking Jaehyun to sit next to you by his arm.

He softly apologized as he helped pull your sweater off, kissing from your neck down until he could lean forward, his warm tongue licking your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. This brings a satisfying hum from you, petting the back of his head as you have Taesan your attention.

“You want to eat me out, kitty?”

The newly given nickname makes Taesan burst into an intense blush, something unlocking in his brain. Asking him again, he eagerly nods, inching closer to you so that he can lay down onto his stomach. He’s never given someone oral before, excitedly anxious as he stares up at you before leaning down to lick your clit. Giving him an encouraging nod paired with a moan, he begins to grow confidence bringing his fingers to tease your hole. Having them both work on you makes your head fuzzy, jumping back and forth complimenting each of them. Jaehyun grabs your chest, his fingers rolling the nipple in between his thumb and forefinger whilst his tongue works the other, your head rolling to the side watching.

There’s not much going on through your head besides pleasure until Taesan suctions his lips around your clit, making you instinctively grab at his hair. He’s a messy eater but that only intensified the feeling, moaning deep from your throat.

“So good, baby, so good,” you wistfully sighed, bringing Jaehyun up into a deep kiss. They’re soft against yours, giggling as he bites down onto your bottom lip, pulling back so that it snaps back from his teeth. Shared gazes soft yet full of mutual need, grabbing the back of his neck to continue the passionate kiss. Wet lewd noises fill out the bedroom and your ears, moaning into Jaehyun’s mouth due to Taesan slipping his fingers into your drenched pussy. It causes you to lose focus on the kiss, looking down at Taesan with your mouth agape, moans flowing from you. He stares up at you with a proud smile on his face, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit adding to the pleasure given by his fingers. Need filled out your veins, whining with a pout, tipping your head back to rest against the headboard giving yourself a few seconds to collect your thoughts before returning your attention back to Taesan.

“Come here, kitty.” Your voice is no more than a whisper as you speak.

Pulling his fingers out from you, you shiver from the sensation, sweating under your breath, Taesan crawling in between your legs. You reposition yourself so that you’re laying flat on the bed instead of sitting up, your head comfortably on the pillow, Jaehyun following suit with you. Staring at Taesan you gently reach for his wrist, giving him a sweet smile as you bring him closer.

“Be a good boy and fuck me, yeah?”

Jaehyun shoots an annoyed look at Taesan, giving Jaehyun a pet on the back of his head, as excitement fills out Taesan’s face. His dream was about to come true and he wasn’t going to let his overly possessive best friend stop him. He listens as you guide him, slowly slipping into you but not yet bottoming out so you’re able to familiarize yourself with him. Pulling out and returning back to his previous position, he continues doing so until you tell him to go ahead, flinching as you dig your nails into his wrist.

“Please, don’t move yet,” you pant in between each word, Jaehyun pressing encouraging kisses across your neck and cheek, nodding to let Taesan know he can start moving. His thrusts aren’t coordinated by any means but it’s not unpleasant either earning several moans from you. Facing Jaehyun, he blushes due to you telling him to strip off his sweats, not once glancing away as he does so obediently. Slipping off his shirt and discarding it onto the floor, he crawls back next to you, gasping as you latch onto one of his nipples with absolutely zero hesitation. The pretty soft pink bud hardens under your tongue, tugging it between your lips as you pull your head back. Jaehyun whines so softly, his eyes dancing to study the entirety of the scene before him. Removing your grip on Taesan’s wrist you bring it to wrap around Jaehyun’s dick, moving your thumb pad to repeatedly brush up against his slit. A raucous moan erupting from his chest as you squeezed the head of his dick between your fist.

“It hurts,” he struggles to get out, his breath getting caught in his throat by the intensity of your grip. Jaehyun adored the addition of pain, a sadistic smile that shined on his face, by giving just his tip a few rough strokes. The need for more swelled in the pit of his stomach but he didn’t dare to voice that, not yet, not wanting to lose your touch due to his impatience. Taesan's sudden quickened thrusts yank your focus from Jaehyun, your hand pressed up against his stomach telling him to slow down. Scrunching your eyes trying to swallow your shaky moans in an attempt to collect yourself bringing your hand back to wrap around Jaehyun.

“Be a good puppy and I might just let you cum,” you whisper into Jaehyun’s ear, giving his dick full strokes from the base to the tip, his lips pursing as he collects the sheets in between his fingers. Pleasure flowed throughout his veins like hot magma making him moan frantically not being able to hide his intense response. You giggle at Jaehyun’s reactions loving the way he squirms under your touch, glancing at Taesan with a smile.

“You’re doing such a good job, kitty, making me feel so good.”

Taesan manages a “thank you” before leaning down to place a hand on each side of you, deepening his thrusts. Tossing your head back on the pillow you laugh in a mixture of both pleasure and disbelief, the growing sensation in your abdomen becoming noticeable.

Tightening the hand around Jaehyun, you tease him asking if he was going to cum already, watching in amusement as he shakes his head no, promising to hold out for you.

Everything was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on, your strokes messy as Taesan began to messily rub your clit with his thumb, moving your head to mark Jaehyun’s neck as a distraction. You were determined to let this continue longer, loving having both men under your control but it was all too much, Taesan hitting your sweet spot repeatedly and becoming less coordinated as he begged to cum. Desperately you swallowed hard trying to collect your composure, quickening your pace around Jaehyun who began moaning and squealing in surprise.

“Be good boys and cum with me, okay?”

They both agree, Taesan’s bangs halfway sticking to his face as he pulls his hand away from your clit and to hold both your legs together over one of his shoulders. That deepens his thrusts, gasping as you pressed your lips against Jaehyun’s. It tastes salty, his tears cascading down his cheeks and onto his lips, moaning at the taste. Jaehyun’s hand clings to your thigh as you three collectively reach your highs, squealing into Jaehyun’s mouth as you cum around Taesan who in return, cums in you. Warmth spills over your closed fist indicating that Jaehyun came as well, his chest heaving trying to find his breath.

“Fuck..,” you whimper as Taesan slowly pulls out, your body sensitive and trembling as he crawls to lay next to you. His arm naturally wraps around your torso, inching closer as you three laid there trying to catch your breaths not speaking a word.

Taesan is the first to break the silence, pressing several kisses on your cheek.

“Did I do good?”

The question earns a giggle from you, nodding.

“Yes Kitty, you did so well for me.”

The praise earns a grunt from Jaehyun, turning to look at him, sighing with a laugh. Giving him a playful smack on his bare thigh.

“You did really good for me too, pup. No need to be all pouty and bratty.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder in response.

“No sleeping just yet, we got to clean up, okay?”

Both of them whine simultaneously, shaking your head telling them that you three can shower together. Swearing if they had tails they’d be wagging from how quickly and excitedly they climbed over each other and yourself to get to the bathroom.

You sat there until they came running back to the bedroom, both of them grabbing a hand each to help you toward the bathroom, giggling at their behavior the entire time, reading yourself for another round.

[oliviablancmom]

"Enemies - Pablo Gavi (Part IV)"

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x OC!reader

A/N: And finally, we have the fourth part. I hope you enjoy it. It’s so hard to write them, but I feel so happy seeing the path they take. I hope you like it.

Gavi realized he still hated the cameras, and the media side of football was something he had carried with him since he was just a kid. Yes, he was only 17 years old, and as he grew, people always said that his shyness around cameras would eventually pass, but it wasn’t. He still got embarrassed during interviews, felt equally uncomfortable in photo shoots, and, above all, it was still strange to see his name in newspapers and gossip pages. That’s why he had mentally cursed the person responsible for the chaos he had been dealing with in the past weeks.

Journalists kept speculating about the nature of his relationship with her, weeks after the confusion during El Clásico. He had hoped it would have blown over, but on the contrary, people loved talking and making things up. What comforted him was that maybe she was also suffering from the incident, as she had locked her Instagram account, which was previously public.

"What are you thinking about?" Pedri asked. Gavi looked up at his friend, who had an inquisitive look on his face. That was another thing he had to deal with—Pedri had been a little annoying lately, especially when the subject involved the Madrileña.

"Don't you think this should have blown over by now?" Gavi asked. "I’ve already made it clear that I was just helping her, and people keep making things up. It’s annoying," Gavi huffed.

"Well, it’s a hot topic—‘Barcelona’s son and Madrid’s daughter,’" Pedri said dramatically, referencing a magazine headline. Gavi's scowl was immediate as if the title itself had struck him. He hated the way those words sounded like they were trying to tie something between him and Florence. It was ridiculous and infuriating. Not just because it was a media invention, but because there was something uncomfortably real about how people insisted on placing him next to the girl. Gavi huffed, frustrated with himself.

"Why do I care so much about this?" he asked almost unconsciously. It was just a stupid phrase from a magazine, but his mind kept returning to his interactions with Florence as if trying to decipher something beyond his understanding.

"So, what’s your thing with her, anyway?" Pedri pressed.

"There’s no thing," Gavi said quickly.

"That’s not what it looks like. You get all worked up about her," Pedri pushed further.

"I don’t!" His voice came out louder than he intended, but he couldn’t let Pedri think he was right. Not when even he didn’t fully understand what was going on. The silence that followed made his stomach twist. He glanced at Pedri, who had raised his eyebrows.

"Your reaction proves my point," Pedri laughed, and Gavi rolled his eyes.

"Why are you being so annoying about this?" Gavi asked defensively.

"I’m just worried. You get too affected by what she says." Gavi abruptly stopped his workout, his mind flashing back to a similar accusation Florence herself had made.

He didn’t care that much about what she said; she was just... Boring, and someone had to tell her. Now that he knew who she was, she probably didn’t hear it enough. So, if the task fell to him, he would make sure she knew.

"If it were just a back-and-forth of insults, I wouldn’t be worried. But the problem is, it bothers you. I’m concerned it might start affecting your game," Pedri said with honest concern. Gavi swallowed hard. To him, Pedri’s worry was exaggerated. He didn’t care about what she said, quite the opposite, so he didn’t see how it could affect his performance. "I think you should ignore it if you want my advice."

Gavi thought about it and suppressed the urge to say he didn’t want the advice, but he didn’t want to be rude to Pedri. He understood his friend’s concern, but it was unwarranted. He wasn’t affected, and he wouldn’t let it impact his performance on the field.

"Yeah, I think I’ll just ignore it," Gavi said, avoiding Pedri's attentive gaze. Gavi remained silent for the rest of the training, lost in his thoughts.

******************************************

Florence used to love parties and gala dinners. Since she was a child, she was used to attending these events with her grandfather. They were her playground, where her favorite characters—football players from all over—were the main stars. She was always walking around, paying attention to conversations and taking photos.

But since her grandfather had turned it into a professional obligation, the events had become dull. Especially now, Florence felt he was still punishing her for the mess she had caused during the last El Clásico, which had drawn the kind of attention Florentino hated.

The King was hosting a special dinner for the Spanish national team, a sort of good luck in advance for the Nations League finals.

Florence was accompanying Carvajal, the Real Madrid player who had been called up. Both were greeting the royal family and had engaged in conversation. Florence listened carefully to what the princess was saying, but she wasn’t paying attention. There was something about her that got on her nerves, though she couldn’t explain what it was. That’s why she internally celebrated when others approached, allowing her to step aside.

"A little more of your visible irritation with the royal family, and I think we’d be kicked out," Carvajal whispered as they sat at their assigned table. "Princess rivalries," he joked, and Florence laughed.

"I’m not in the mood to be social tonight," Florence shrugged.

"Is your grandfather still making your life difficult?" He asked with concern, knowing well the expectations the man placed on his heir. Florence shrugged, choosing not to respond so the conversation would end quickly. She didn’t want to be there, and she didn’t want to talk about her grandfather.

Carvajal started a conversation with other players sitting at the same table, and Florence looked around the room, noticing a few important people. Her grandfather always said these events were about being noticed and building connections, and she was sure that when he saw her, he would ask for a summary, so that's why she walked gracefully around the room, greeting some important people.

But before she could venture further into the hall, she stopped as some speeches began, including one from the king. The man and his family loved sports and were always present when the Spanish national team was playing, so there was always a higher level of formality. Florence sighed in boredom; at other times, she would have loved all of this. As she watched the king’s speech intently, she felt an irritatingly familiar presence beside her and didn’t suppress the urge to roll her eyes. As if she had developed a sixth sense for noticing the player’s presence, she could use that to avoid running into him. After all, Florence was furious; because of him, she was at odds with her grandfather and had to deal with stupid, baseless rumors.

Gavi stopped next to the girl, and though she didn’t bother to look at him, the way she took a deep breath showed that she had noticed his presence.

"Is your mood bad because your team is doing poorly this season?" Gavi teased, and she finally looked at him.

"We’ll eventually find our way back, unlike you guys, who start well and then it’s a complete disaster." Gavi’s expression hardened, and a smile appeared on the girl’s face as he rolled his eyes and looked forward again.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Gavi looked at her again, his brows furrowed.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"The last time I saw you, you had that same confused look on your face. Have you figured out what it was?" She asked with a shrug, and Gavi’s mouth dropped in surprise at how well she had read him. Gavi quickly glanced back, seeing that Pedri had a watchful eye on him. Gavi gave a small smile to his friend and turned his attention back to the girl beside him, ignoring the memory of the conversation he had with Pedri.

"No," she concluded, turning to face forward with a smug smile.

"It wasn’t anything important." Gavi replied, trying not to lose face, and she looked at him, surprised.

"Are you sure? You seemed really bothered," she insisted.

"Oh, querida, is this concern for me?" Gavi joked, watching Florence grimace.

"Never," the girl quickly retorted. Gavi nodded with a smug smile, raising his glass to his mouth.

"Why aren’t you over there with your girlfriend?" Gavi choked on the liquid he was drinking, drawing attention from a few people, and felt his face heat up. He looked up at the girl in front of him, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on her face.

"What are you talking about?" Gavi asked, clearing his throat. Florence tilted her head in a direction, and Gavi followed it, seeing the king and his family in the distance. This time, Gavi's face twisted into a grimace.

"Your fans attacked me for days, claiming I was ruining their couple," Florence said humorously, remembering the numerous hateful messages she received after the confusion in the last El Clásico. Gavi had seen some fan pages sharing things along those lines—it was funny. The player looked at Florence, who remained focused on the royal family’s table, and then looked back at him.

"Would you leave your career for her?" Gavi resisted the urge to choke on his air.

"What are you talking about?" He asked indignantly.

"For you to date someone from the royal family, you wouldn’t be able to be a football player anymore. Because of all the rules they have to follow and everything," Florence explained. Gavi scanned the girl’s face for any sign of mockery, but she was serious. For the first time, they were having more than just teasing conversations, and it stirred an odd sensation deep in his stomach.

"I’m not going to stop being a football player," Gavi said impatiently, just thinking about it gave him a headache. Florence tilted her head, analyzing him.

"So how are you going to be with your princess?" Gavi rolled his eyes.

"Stop it," he said, feeling frustrated, his face heat up. A mocking smile appeared on Florence's face.

"Or, she’d have to stop being a princess to be with you, which honestly would be a mistake. Imagine, giving up being a princess for you." Florence looked him up and down, and the action deeply infuriates Gavi.

"Have you stopped being a disappointment to your grandfather?" Gavi asked all at once. The words flew out of his mouth so quickly that even he was surprised. Here's the thing: she pushed a nerve in him, something that drove him crazy, something he only felt at the height of adrenaline in a tight game. Gavi had seen that her grandfather’s approval was important to her, and the silent, hidden crying he had also witnessed, told him that he had hit a sensitive topic. The girl looked at him in shock, her eyes wide for a moment as if he had just struck an exposed nerve. Anger flashed across her face, hardening her expression. For a moment, her lips trembled as if she were about to say something, but the words failed to come out. Instead, Florence clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, and with a sharp motion, she pushed Gavi. She spun on her heels, her legs rigid as she marched toward the exit, each step echoing on the floor like a relentless beat. Involuntarily, Gavi found himself following her.

"Leave me alone," Florence said over her shoulder, visible irritation in her voice.

"You’re losing your talent for insulting me," Gavi said, more annoyed than he wanted to admit. Florence turned to face him.

"Don’t worry about that. You’re an idiot, a terrible player, with a huge ego," Florence said all at once, and Gavi laughed.

"If I’m such a terrible player and I still beat your team, what does that make them?" Gavi asked humorously, and Florence rolled her eyes.

"You got lucky. You can’t rely on luck forever, Pablo," she said with a shrug, and Gavi was a bit shocked because up until then, she had never mentioned his name.

"Oh sure, when you lose it’s the other team’s luck, but when you win, you’re extraordinary, practically a Renaissance masterpiece," Florence furrowed her brows and let out a small laugh at the insult but quickly tried to hide it, turning away and continuing her escape from the hall. Gavi promptly continued following her to a distant area. On the way, they bumped into someone. An older man, accompanied by what was probably his family, looked familiar—some director of one of the leagues or something like that, Gavi couldn’t quite remember.

"Miss Perez, your grandfather hasn’t replied to my emails," the man said bluntly. Florence took a step back, bumping into Gavi, visibly uncomfortable.

"He’s busy," Florence said simply, ignoring the man’s outstretched hand, and then he turned his attention to the player.

"Gavi, you’re having a brilliant season."

"Thank you, sir," Gavi replied, returning the gesture. The player couldn’t see Florence’s expression clearly, but he was sure she was rolling her eyes.

"My daughter is a fan, Charlotte," the man turned to the shy girl behind him, who took a step forward. Gavi extended his hand to greet the girl, who blushed. Florence rolled her eyes—seriously, what was it with girls and their fascination with him? Florence impatiently poked him, and the player quickly turned, seeing a disapproving look on Florence’s face.

"Oh, so the rumors are true," the man pointed to the two of them. "I thought Florentino Perez would never allow it, but it’s good for the new generations to understand that rivalry is only on the field." Gavi frowned, trying to decipher the director’s words. Gavi turned his attention back to the man, visibly confused by the direction of the conversation. "A beautiful couple."

"Yes, we have to go," Florence quickly interrupted, grabbing Gavi’s arm and dragging him away from the conversation before he could process what was happening.

"What was that?" Gavi asked, his voice filled with irritation and confusion. "You just implied we’re together. Have you lost your mind?"

Florence gave him an impassive look. "He was going to ask for a picture, and believe me, you don’t want to be associated with that man. I did you a favor."

"Favor? You’re just making everything more complicated," Gavi shot back, his eyes fixed on Florence, searching for an explanation. There was something more behind that gesture, something he couldn’t quite grasp but that made him uncomfortable.

Before he could press her further, Pedri appeared beside them, a mischievous smile on his face. "Hey, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?" He asked, clearly curious about the tension between them.

Gavi averted his gaze from Florence, his blood boiling with frustration. "No, she’s leaving," he responded brusquely, his tone colder than he intended.

Florence raised an eyebrow, defiant. "I’m not. Nice to meet you, I’m Flo..." She extended her hand to Pedri, but before she could finish the introduction, Gavi grabbed her hand and dragged her away, his touch firm and decisive.

As they moved away from Pedri, Gavi led her to the table where a player from her club was sitting, but when they got there, he hesitated. There was a palpable tension in the air, a heavy silence that neither of them knew how to break. Florence looked at him, perplexed, her expression shifting between confusion and frustration.

Gavi abruptly let go of her hand, the warmth of the contact still pulsing on his skin. "Why do you feel the need to disrupt my life?" he muttered, more to himself than to her, but Florence heard him.

She took a step closer, narrowing the distance between them, her eyes shining with an intensity that made him hold his breath. "Isn't that what we both do?" she replied quietly, her voice laced with something deeper, something Gavi wasn’t ready to face. "Why are you so upset about this?" Her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion.

Gavi stared at her for a long moment, lost in the intensity of that gaze. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words failed him. The strange sensation in his stomach that he had felt earlier was now almost unbearable. He knew he should say something, anything, but all he could do was shake his head and walk away, leaving Florence behind, unsure if he was running from her or himself.

Gavi walked away, the feeling of disorientation growing with each step. As he moved further, he realized that contrary to what he had imagined, Florence's presence still lingered in his mind, like a persistent echo. He tried to convince himself that the discomfort was just irritation, but the image of her intense gaze wouldn't leave his thoughts, her voice was imprinted deep in his mind. It was deafening and maddening, the space she had occupied in his head, and he couldn’t understand or control the effects she had on him.

**********************************************

Gavi walked quickly through the hallway leading to the box where his family was. For the past few weeks, he had been avoiding the people who knew him so well, especially his sister, who could read his mind with just one look. With the mess inside his head, he decided he didn’t want to face them, which is why he hadn’t been going to his family house. Instead, he hid away in his apartment in the city center, so he could be alone with his confusion without anyone asking him about it.

He hugged his family quickly and exchanged a few words, a slight discomfort hanging in the air. Then he said goodbye just as quickly, but not before his sister Aurora stepped in front of him and looked at him intently.

“What’s going on?” she asked directly. Gavi frowned and grimaced.

“Nothing, Aurorita.” Gavi forced a smile and saw the frown deepen on his sister’s face.

“You only call me that when you want something or are hiding something from me,” she concluded.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gavi shrugged.

“But something is going on. You’ve been avoiding us, you look exhausted, and according to your friends, you’re more annoying than usual.” His sister looked at him with concern. Gavi swallowed hard, feeling the anger rising within him, but he knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on his own family.

“I swear, it’s not—” Gavi didn’t finish his sentence, because the voice he heard echoing from the hallway caught his attention. He looked back so fast he felt a strain in his neck, but there was no one there. Great, that damned voice was stuck in his head.

He turned his attention back to his sister, who was watching him curiously, but before he could continue speaking, the voice echoed again, this time louder. “I have to go,” he said quickly, kissing his sister on the cheek before pulling away.

He walked fast down the corridor, but his steps were cautious, once again that feeling that a monster might jump at him at any moment crept in. In an involuntary gesture, Gavi clenched his fists, a growing anger, a strange sensation burning in his chest. As he rounded the corner in the hallway, he saw the monster that had been haunting his mind.

She was leaning against the wall, her phone pressed to her ear, one hand on her hip. Florence’s eyes were closed as she listened attentively to the voice on the other end of the line. She seemed completely absorbed in the conversation, her face drawn in visible frustration. Gavi, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, watched the scene with a sick satisfaction. Seeing her suffer comforted him in a way he refused to admit. It was a relief to know that, like him, she was also under pressure.

“What do you want me to do?” she said in a louder tone, breaking the bubble of concentration she was in. Gavi narrowed his eyes, realizing she hadn’t yet noticed his presence. A sly smile formed on his lips as he impulsively decided he wanted to interrupt whatever was happening.

“You’re not at your home to be yelling like that,” he said casually, not caring if the person on the other end of the line could hear him. And there it was, big blue eyes, looking straight at him. Florence’s response was an eye roll as if his presence was insignificant.

“No, I’m not,” she said into the phone, completely ignoring Gavi, which instantly irritated him.

.“I can’t do that, and I won’t,” she continued, her eyes now fixed on his. He saw impatience growing in her, but he also noticed something deeper, something he rarely saw: her eyes began to shine with a repressed emotion. She was becoming emotional, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Without thinking twice, Gavi crossed the hallway with firm steps, snatching the phone from Florence’s hand and ending the call without ceremony. The gesture was brusque and impulsive, but seeing the surprise and anger in her eyes made him feel... Something.

“What did you do?” Florence practically shouted, her voice filled with disbelief. Gavi froze for a second, only then realizing what he had done. Her expression grew even more perplexed when, out of pure reflex, he covered her mouth with one hand.

“I already told you, you’re not at your home to be yelling like that,” he said quickly, trying to maintain control. She frowned, and with a swift movement, pushed his hands away, her blue eyes sparkling with fury. Gavi felt a current of electricity run through his body at the brief contact, and he hated how that kept happening. His eyes locked on hers for a second longer than necessary, and he found himself wondering if she felt it too.

“Have you gone mad? He’s going to be furious,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, which only increased the tension. Florence made a desperate attempt to retrieve her phone, but Gavi lifted it out of her reach.

She grunted, frustrated and visibly exhausted. “Can you stop being so annoying?” she asked, almost in exasperation. For a brief moment, Gavi let his eyes wander over her face, and suddenly he understood. The weight of the conversation. It was about her grandfather. Of course it was about him.

Florence rarely showed vulnerability, especially not in front of him. But whenever her grandfather was involved, it was like an invisible wall came crashing down around her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice lower now, but still full of tension. Gavi frowned, confused.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her body in a gesture of self-protection. Gavi noticed the movement. It was subtle but clear. A barrier. He knew that gesture; he had seen it many times. Maybe she wasn’t as impenetrable as she wanted to seem. And knowing that made him feel a mix of power and discomfort.

“I don’t pity you,” he replied, letting out a short laugh. She rolled her eyes again, but this time, without the same force. When she didn’t throw a quick retort, he decided to press her. “Quite the opposite... I’m just making sure you behave. Like I said, you’re not at home.”

“Thank God I’m not,” Florence shot back. “I’d be extremely upset if this were my house.”

Gavi narrowed his eyes. “Are you ready to lose?” he asked, his voice dripping with provocation.

“Vinicius is going to destroy you today,” she replied confidently, making Gavi laugh out loud.

“You wish, querida,” he said with disdain. At that moment, Florence’s phone vibrated in his hand, and without thinking, Gavi glanced at the screen. The sight of a photo of Florence with the other player, he felt anger someway...

“Of course...” he muttered to himself before tossing the phone back to her, his irritation now evident.

Florence caught it in the air and looked at him for a moment before shaking her head, clearly exhausted from the exchange. Gavi, on the other hand, felt something shift inside him. He was eager for the game, not just because it would be the last El Clásico at Camp Nou before the stadium renovations, but because, somehow, something else was consuming him from within. Something he couldn’t name.

When the ball started rolling, Gavi played with unmatched intensity. He was truly having the game of his life, but his teammates didn’t seem to keep up with his pace. Misplaced passes, missed goals—it all piled up. He was furious.

"You need to tone down your intensity, or you’ll end up getting sent off," Xavi warned during the halftime break.

Gavi let out a sarcastic chuckle. "If the rest of the team was playing, I wouldn’t have to," he muttered. The locker room fell silent for a brief moment. He waited for some reaction, but nothing came. Xavi kept talking, and everyone started getting ready for the second half.

As he put on his jersey, he felt Pedri’s gaze on his back, watching his every move.

“What?” Gavi asked, frustrated.

“I thought we agreed you’d ignore her,” said Pedri, reminding him of the last conversation they had. Gavi rolled his eyes.

“I am,” he replied, frowning.

“Then why did Aurora text me asking what you had with her?” Pedri turned his phone, showing a picture of Gavi and Florence in the hallway.

“Aurora are being nosy. And so are you,” Gavi said, his patience running thin. “And why are you so interested? Are you interested in her?”

Pedri laughed. “As if you’d let that happen.”

That phrase hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. It bothered him deeply. “Man, I’m not trying to push your buttons,” Pedri started, but Gavi cut him off.

“Then don’t,” he shot back, his voice cold. “You’re annoying me with this. Nothing is going on, so stop getting involved.”

Pedri raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. But Gavi was already at his limit. He stormed out of the locker room, bursting with pent-up energy.

In the second half, his intensity only grew. The frustration with Pedri, the confusion about Florence, the team’s mediocre performance—all of it boiled inside him. When Vinicius Jr. ran down the left side of the field. Gavi didn’t think. He slid in, taking the player down aggressively.

Chaos ensued. Real Madrid players rushed at him, and Gavi, of course, didn’t back down. He shoved Benzema, who was yelling in his face until the referee intervened. Vinicius got up with a mocking smile, and Gavi tried to go at him again, only to be held back by his teammates.

The red card was inevitable.

Laughing in disdain, he walked off the field. His eyes drifted toward the box seats as if trying to spot Florence. The anger boiled inside him. As he shrugged off Xavi, who was both trying to confront and reprimand him, he headed straight for the locker room, ignoring everything and everyone.

When he turned the corner, there she was, sitting on a bench. He huffed, frustrated.

He huffed, frustrated. "Not now, Florence. I’m not in the mood for your provocations." His words came out harsher than he intended, but it was the truth. Her presence stirred something in him that he didn’t know how to deal with. She slowly raised her gaze from her phone, with an expression he couldn’t read. The air between them suddenly felt heavier, as if something unspoken hung in the space between them.

"Not everything I do is about you, querido." Florence shot back, but this time, there was no teasing. The absence of mockery in her tone threw him off. It was rare to see her like this, without her usual wall of sarcasm. And for a second, he felt an opening, a crack in the wall she kept so high. "But if you want some advice..."

"I don’t," Gavi said sharply. What was it with the people close to him today wanting to give him advice and tell him what to do? Florence stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and Gavi felt his throat go dry at the sudden closeness. His eyes ran over her face—there was no sign of irony, no sign of irritation, but still, Gavi could see that lingering glimmer in her eyes, the one he had promised himself he would strip away so he could see it more clearly.

"Your intensity and provocation on the field will be appreciated up to a certain point. But at some point, it’s going to get annoying, to the point where even your fans will start to hate it," she said in a surprisingly calm tone. That caught him off guard. Florence rarely spoke with such gentleness. She looked him straight in the eyes, and Gavi felt a discomfort growing in his chest.

That was new, and he didn’t know how to handle it. His mind immediately went back to when he saw her at the gala dinner hosted by the king, and she stopped him from taking pictures with a guest, someone Gavi later realized wouldn’t have been a good association. He looked at her, confused.

Florence raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response. He wanted to speak, but he didn’t know what to say. Could she be right? The doubt appeared quickly and annoyingly, but he pushed it away. No. He was playing well, and giving it his all. There was nothing wrong with that. Still, the uneasiness grew.

Ignoring how he felt, he turned his back on her and headed for the locker room. But no matter how hard he tried, her words echoed in his head. The discomfort increased. Why was this bothering him so much? Maybe she wasn’t wrong. Maybe he was so surprised by the calm and honest tone that he didn’t know how to react. That wasn’t her, that wasn’t them. The player stopped on his heel and turned back. Immediately, a smirk appeared on the girl's face.

"You know what, I don’t need your advice. You can’t just sit on your pedestal and think you have any superiority to talk to me." Gavi snapped, completely annoyed.

“Okay...” she replied with amusement. “I told you I wasn’t your good luck charm.” She raised her brows. Gavi furrowed his, confused, and then his mind recalled when he had made that connection. There it was—the provocation, the irony. That he could handle, that he could push back against. Gavi chose not to respond, so he turned and continued on his way without saying another word.

Gavi had declined his usual ride with Pedri, still embarrassed by the way he had treated his friend. He also didn’t want to go with his family because they would ask questions about his mood and his expulsion, especially his sister, who would bombard him with comments, and the last thing he wanted was to be rude to yet another person that night.

So now he was with his friend Chris, about to enter his friend’s girlfriend’s house. It was funny how Chris had a key to her parents’ house and everything, for someone who swore the relationship wasn’t serious, it was at quite an advanced stage.

“Baby,” Danielle said as soon as Chris walked in, kissing and hugging him. Gavi quickly looked away from the scene, feeling awkward for a few minutes. “Oh, you brought company,” Danielle said, stepping away from her boyfriend and greeting Gavi with a quick hug.

“You're okay with it, right?” Chris asked, and Gavi wanted to kill him because he had sworn he had already talked to her.

“Yeah, it’s just... well, I had to bring someone too,” Danielle said, somewhat hesitant.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not like we’re short on rooms. If it’s a cute girl, they could even share a room, and Gavi could finally get out of his rut.” Gavi flipped his friend off while Danielle let out an overly loud and awkward laugh. Chris looked at her, confused.

“They’d kill each other before that happens...” she muttered under her breath, but Gavi heard it, which confused him until he heard footsteps coming from the stairs and a familiar voice that had been haunting him everywhere.

“Dani, are these the only towels you have?” Silence fell when the figure appeared at the top of the stairs, distracted by something on her phone, not even bothering to look up. Danielle quickly glanced between her boyfriend and Gavi.

“Florence, darling, I told you we don’t have 500-thread Egyptian cotton towels or anything like that. We’re mere mortals. My mom was hoping you’d bring some so she could steal them from you,” Danielle said, walking toward what Gavi now realized was her friend. The girl finally lifted her eyes to her friend and then noticed there were more people there.

“Oh, hi, Chris...” She came down the last step and then got a full view of Gavi. “You’ve got to be kidding me...” she said, shocked. Gavi rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right,” Chris said, finally catching on. “You guys are enemies and all that,” he said, moving to stand next to his girlfriend. Gavi was in his bubble of shock. He quickly glanced around and realized that Danielle’s house was the same one where Chris had hosted his last party, where he had also ended up running into Florence. Gavi had always wanted to ask how his friend knew Florence but had never had the chance—or needed to.

Florence crossed her arms in front of her body and raised an eyebrow at Gavi. If she expected him to greet her, she could keep waiting. All he wanted was to end the night in peace; she had already disturbed his life enough that day. He must have seriously offended the universe with how it was playing tricks on him. With the distance between Madrid and Barcelona, and considering the teams only had four Clásicos that year, their encounters were becoming strangely frequent.

It was almost as if his hatred for her had the power to transport her directly into his reality.

Gavi looked at his friend and saw him whispering something to Danielle, who was watching the scene, concerned. Before anyone could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“Thank God...” Danielle exhaled. “It must be the pizza.” She laughed awkwardly and walked past everyone to the door. Before Gavi could see who it was, he noticed Florence’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in shock, which made him turn quickly, seeing a tall man dressed in a suit.

“I’m not going back,” she said, her voice rising, with something Gavi couldn’t identify as anger or disappointment.

“Come on, Florence, your grandfather told me not to leave here without you. And if necessary, to carry you.” The man sounded impatient. Gavi looked back at Florence; her eyes were bright, and her face was turning red. That strange feeling inside Gavi returned.

“Well, tell him you didn’t find me,” Florence said simply.

“Your grandfather knows this is the only place you’d come. He asked me to remind you that you’re still a minor, and he’s responsible for you when your parents aren’t around.” The man continued. Florence let out a bitter laugh.

“Well, you’ll have to carry me then because I’m not going voluntarily,” Florence retorted, defiant. Gavi glanced at the man by the door. Despite his cold posture, Gavi could sense worry and hesitation in his face.

“He said if you don’t come with me, he’ll disinherit you, and you’re fired from your club duties.” Silence fell over the room to the point where even breathing could no longer be heard. Gavi lowered his eyes to the floor, somewhat shocked by the direction the conversation had taken, and also refused to look at Florence because he knew if he did, that strange feeling inside him would return to haunt him.

“Incredible,” she said with a shaky breath, and it was impossible not to look at her. She swallowed hard, her eyes briefly falling on Gavi’s, and he saw her face turn red again. Gavi wanted to make some sarcastic comment, maybe smirk at the situation, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to; he just kept his eyes on hers.

“Florence, your grandfather will disinherit you when he finds out about this,” the man said more firmly, noticing the exchange of looks between the two. Gavi looked at him, confused about what he was referring to. Florence sighed heavily and walked past everyone, grabbing the bag that was on the couch. She quickly hugged Danielle.

“I’ll see you in Madrid,” she said, kissing her friend on the cheek and heading out the door, bumping into the driver.

Danielle quickly closed the door and then turned to Gavi.

“I know you love provoking her, but if you tell anyone about this or use it against her, I’ll kill you myself,” she said firmly to Gavi, who widened his eyes. He didn’t know if he was more shocked by the way she had spoken to him or by the fact that Florence had talked about him with someone and even blamed him for their situation. If it was her who provoked him, ironically, Danielle’s words had no effect, as Gavi couldn’t suppress the internal laugh at the thought that he now had something to continue his exchange with Florence.

**********************************************

a/n: I hope you guys have like this one, let me know... We probably won't have the same scheme as it was with pedriii, with three chapters, and bonus ones.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Hello! Epicbuddieficrecs here :) ⚡️⚡️⚡️🏫🏫🏫

Hey you! 💗

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

“I’m sorry for just uhm-…” Buck clears his throat as he picks at the hem of his shirt, unable to make eye contact with Eddie.

He feels bad. Feels bad that he just left Eddie hanging after he poured his heart out to him. Feels bad that he hasn’t replied to any of his calls or texts since last night. It leaves him with a sinking feeling in his chest as he glances up at Eddie, seeing the soft creases in his forehead deepening. He has seen that look before and knows exactly what it means. Eddie isn’t angry, isn’t upset but rather confused and hurt and Buck can’t really blame him.

“Running off?” Eddie says, his words laced with a hint of sarcasm and a bit of hurt. Scratch that, a lot of hurt. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he laid all his cards on the table with Buck last night but it definitely wasn’t being ignored.

🏫🏫🏫🏫

“You wanna talk about it?” Shannon asks carefully, slowly moving away from Eddie and leans back against the counter, palms pressed against the cold marble.

“It’s nothing, it’s fine” Eddie says as he slides past her, grabbing a glass from the cabinet next to her head. Sometimes he forgets how in sync they have been because Shannon ducks her head almost instinctively and then tilts it back upright, curious eyes not leaving him alone.

“Eddie, come on. We talked to Doctor Callahan about this” Shannon says and Eddie grits his teeth a little as he fills the glass with water, almost letting it overflow as he disappears into his own head. He doesn’t like Doctor Callahan, not because she’s a bad therapist but because she’s making him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel and think things that he doesn’t want to think about and because she’s squeezing every hard earned dollar out of him. As if getting separated hadn’t been costly enough. Both emotionally and financially. And Eddie hates that the latter is what comes first in his mind. Not when it comes to Chris but when it comes to him and Shannon, sure he loves her but he doesn’t love her the way that she deserves to be loved.

Make me write ✍🏻

Using this as my tease tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bidisasterevankinard and @jesuisici33 💋

No pressure tagging 💗(let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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[raineandsky]

Bite at the Hand That Feeds

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

tw: burns, abuse

“Pretty close,” the villain says brightly, “but you’ve done this four times now, and pretty close isn’t close enough. Give me your arm.”

The idea of trying to do anything the villain demands with all of the asshole’s disappointments laid on the hero’s skin is becoming a nightmare. “No.”

“Give me your arm, [Hero], or I’ll take it myself and do it twice.”

Twice the pain. The hero forces his arm out to the villain, his entire body straining to stop him, and with a disinterested hum the villain lays the end of his cigarette on his skin.

“Okay,” the villain says once he lifts the cigarette back to his mouth, relighting its end. “Do it again.”

The hero carefully poises the dagger in his hand, his entire arm screaming with the motion, and brings it down in a carefully practised sweep. The cushion he’s been tragically gutting tears clean open and flicks its fluffy insides all over the floor.

The villain doesn’t say anything for a long moment. The hero risks a glance back at him; the cigarette hangs loosely from his fingers, smoke wafting in front of his face as he stares blankly at his now barely existent cushion.

“Huh,” he says eventually. “You’re finally getting it.”

“If you want me to protect you, why don’t you just let me use something I’m already good at?”

The villain’s gaze slowly tips back up to the hero. “Are you talking back?”

The cigarette moves purposely in the villain’s hand: a promise, a warning. “No, of course not,” the hero says quickly.

“I hope not. I actually want to have a smoke without having to put you in line every five seconds.”

Being out of line is an exaggeration. Sometimes the villain comes home and the hero thinks he might just be looking for an excuse to take his frustration out on his new toy. There’s no rules with the villain—that alone makes it hard to do what he wants.

The villain sighs. “I can’t be bothered with all this. Put that back.”

The hero can feel his stare boring into his back as he carefully lay the dagger on the shelf. This entire room is a death trap; there’s knives and swords and crossbows all over the place. One wrong move and the room would probably kill you. The agency would blanch at a place as unsafe as this.

The villain doesn’t move when the hero stops at his feet. He’s already one stair up, and he’s using the slight height to his advantage. “Do you want to know something, [Hero]?”

There’s a lot of things about this situation the hero would like to know and probably never will. Whatever this is will probably end in one more burn to add to his collection. “Sure.”

“I never asked for this.” The villain’s sigh is punctuated by a stream of smoke from his lips. “I was surprised to find you in my living room because I never wanted you here.”

The idea that the villain is offering a way out is too obviously a trap. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” the villain says, and it’s the closest to remorse he’s ever been. “But [Supervillain] gave me a gift I couldn’t turn down and now I have a whole second person living in my house that I’m meant to keep alive. Plants die fast in this place—I’m amazed you’ve outlasted them.”

Being compared to a plant is not the lowest the hero has been since getting here.

“Anyway.” The villain clears his throat awkwardly, like he’s just realised what he’s said. “You’re the bane of my existence and I’m unfortunately stuck with you until [Supervillain] forgets you exist. Stay in your lane until then and pray that I feel merciful once they stop asking about you.”

The supervillain is in the villain’s hair every time they see him, wanting to know how the ‘training’ is going and whether his guard dog is more dog than guard yet.

The hero prays for that every day and still doesn’t get it. He’s stuck here. Probably forever.

He tries his best to accept this as he follows the villain back upstairs.

~~~

Taglist: @epiclamer @nevermore-ramblings

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sunshine in the Clouds

This is an incentive request from my dear friend @laffy-taffy-creations. Congrats on finishing your class!

The house was empty, save for Hero’s slumped-over form in the kitchen. This was their third drink of the evening. Funny, they never touched a drop of the stuff before… well, before everything happened. Hero had drawn the curtains, the sunlight outside was too harsh even though it was a cloudy day. They wished it would rain. They had stopped being able to cry weeks ago. Now it was just them and the house.

The TV was on, like it had been for days on end, but Hero had long since tuned it out. Still, they refused to turn it off. If they did that, the silence would be deafening. They hated how quiet it was. They got up and chucked the empty bottle in the trash can, passing a picture of the group. They all looked so happy.

Hero blamed themselves for all of it. They were a Hero for goodness’ sake- they should’ve prevented the murder. Friend had said it wasn’t their fault, but even if that was true, they should’ve seen the signs in Friend at the very least. Why couldn’t they do anything right!? Was this their punishment for not being observant enough? What did they do wrong? Why couldn’t they-

“Breaking news, a fire at [Address] has spread across the entire apartment complex, with many tenants still trapped inside. Firefighters are on the scene. We’ll keep you updated as we learn more.”

Hero sighed. Okay. Let’s get this over with.

…

Hero handed the last child to its mother. Hero was covered in smoke and sweat, and they had a few burns from the fire. Ice covered the entire apartment building where flames had been raging just minutes beforehand.

“Great work, Hero,” the fire brigade captain said warmly.

Hero briefly nodded, then started to make their way through the crowd that had gathered.

“Hero!” a reporter shouted, “where have you been these past few weeks?”

“No comment.”

“Are you heading to the hospital after this?” another asked.

“No comment.”

“Has something happened in your personal life that-”

“I said no comment!” Hero snapped.

As they spoke, a blast of ice erupted from their hands. They crowd recoiled back from the icicles that formed around the crime-fighter. Hero shook their head and stepped over their little fortress. They left, ignoring the cameras that flashed and the buzz of the crowd.

…

Hero flopped on the bed and scrolled through their phone. The doorbell rang just minutes later. Hero grumbled, getting up and answering the door. They hadn’t even changed out of their suit. What did it matter anyway? So what if someone saw them like this?

“Wow, you, uh, you look terrible.”

“Villain,” Hero said flatly, “what do you want?”

“I saw the news,” Villain said, “I was worried about you.”

Hero’s eyes swept over Villain’s figure. In their hand was a backpack, it seemed to be stuffed to the brim.

“So, uh, can I come in?”

Hero looked away, then stepped aside so Villain could enter. Villain thanked them as Hero closed the door.

Villain saw the state of the house. If they were judging, they didn’t give any indication of that.

“Have you eaten today?” Villain asked.

Hero snorted.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one. Have you?”

Hero gestured vaguely to the empty glasses littering the table. Villain nodded, unzipping the backpack and pulling out some TV dinners, soup cans, ramen packets, and basically the easiest meals to make a la microwave.

Villain sat Hero down at the kitchen table, clearing it off and setting a bowl of soup in front of them.

“Eat.”

Hero didn’t want to, but their stomach had other plans. After growling at them, Hero acquiesced and started taking small bites. They only ate half of it before pushing it aside.

Villain looked down at the half-finished meal.

“Fair enough, we’ll work on that,” they said.

Villain took Hero by the hand and led them to the bathroom. A bath had been drawn for them.

“Take your suit off,” Villain said.

“Villain, I’m not going to-”

“I’m not going to do anything frisky,” Villain said, “but if you won’t take care of yourself then I’m going to do it for you. Suit. Off.”

…

Hero sat on the edge of their bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel. Villain came in with Hero’s pajamas, fresh from the dryer. They looked away while Hero got changed. Hero cleared their throat so Villain would know they were dressed.

“Okay. Thank you. You can… you can go now.” Hero said.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” Villain said.

“It doesn’t matter either way,” Hero replied quietly.

Villain sat down next to them.

“I know how-”

“Don’t pretend to know how I’m feeling,” Hero snapped.

Villain held up their hands.

“Alright.” They said, “but you shouldn’t have to grieve by yourself.”

So Hero didn’t grieve by themselves. Villain came by every day to help them live in a world that they didn’t feel like being in. Little by little, piece by piece, they started to inch their way back into the land of the living. The curtains had been opened, and though it was a cloudy day, the sunlight was just starting to peek through.

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU Wip (Part 16)

After Sanji’s nosebleed stopped, they finished eating in silence - both a little lost in their own minds. Zoro thought about the possibility of Sanji getting a nosebleed because of him and not because of high blood pressure. Sanji, on the other hand, thought desperately about anything different than Zoro, saying he has a vagina paired with his very hot body! Fuck he always knew he was into guys, too - maybe even more than into women. But if a guy had a vagina? He felt the tickle of another nosebleed and thought about dead dog puppies and sad things like that to stop it.

“What’s for dessert?” Zoro asked with an impatient smile.

Sanji looked up. Fuck him; if he were a bit more confident, he’d say “me”. But he couldn't…He couldn't say that, right? He didn't even know if Zoro was into him.

“Vanilla ice creme with hot Raspberries, if you want? Since you don't like sweets too much, I thought the sourness of the Raspberries would be a good pair with the ice cream.”

“Never tried it, so why not?”

Sanji beamed at Zoro, and honestly, that was enough to endure a bit of sweet food. Zoro helped put the dirty plates into the dishwasher and sat down on the bar chair again. He already loved watching Sanji cook - even if he just heated a bunch of frozen Raspberries. He took out two fancy-looking bowls and put the ice creme into it - topping it off with the Raspberries. They took the bowlers over to the table again and sat down. Sanji’s eyes were glued to Zoro as he took the first spoon.

“Aaaand?”

“It's…not as bad as I thought?” Zoro offered - despite the sour Raspberries it was still too sweet for his taste.

“You’re a bad liar!”

“I just don't want to make you feel bad.”

“Thanks for that,” Sanji smiled. “If you want, you can leave this for me and take the rest of the Raspberries.”

“You sure?”

Sanji nodded, and Zoro pushed his bowl over to him. After that, he went to the kitchen again and grabbed the pot with the warm berries. Coming back over, he heard Sanji snort and look at him unquestioningly.

“Seems to be delicious when you can't even get another bowl but eat straight out of the pot.”

“Am I not allowed to?” A tint of red colored Zoro’s cheeks.

“You are! I just found it funny, that’s all. To me, it’s just such a single live behavior to do that. You don't worry about a plate just because it seems unnecessary to dirty it if the pot is already dirty, and you can also eat out of it.”

“That is exactly what I tried to explain to Nami for years!”

“Well, you don't have to explain it to me.”

They both smiled and ate in comfortable silence again. It was Sanji breaking the quiet atmosphere with a blurred-out question that made his face red as a tomato only a second later.

“Are you single?”

Zoro choked on a spoonful of Raspberries and started coughing.

“Sorry! I shouldn't have asked out of nowhere! You don't have to answer! Sorry!” Sanji’s voice became more and more shrill as he spoke.

He shot up from his chair, his face now completely red, took the two bowls, and headed to the sink. Busining himself with washing the dishes as Zoro stared holes into his back while coughing.

“I…” Zoro rasped, clearing his throat a few times - choking on Raspberries wasn't pleasant; it stung and burned.

“You really don't have to answer,” Sanji said again.

Why did he even ask? The possibility of Zoro being in a relationship was so high! He didn't want to hear that he was taken. Not knowing at least meant he could pretend that this was a date. A bit fucked up, but that was what his mind was set on since Zoro agreed to come over and let Sanji cook for him.

“I am.”

Zoro’s voice came from behind but not from way back at the table. He stood behind him, Sanji realized. What did he say?

“Hm?” Yeah, such a brilliant way to ask him to repeat his words…

“I said I am, Curly. I’m single - for a while now, actually.”

“O…kay…Great…” Sanji blurred out - again without really thinking about his words. “I mean, not great! I’m sorry! Should…should I be sorry?”

Zoro chuckled behind him, and Sanji blushed an even deeper red.

“Sorry, I’m not good at this…fucking shit, this is so embarrassing…”

“I think it’s cute,” Zoro laughed - his voice even nearer to Sanji than a second before.

Sanji felt his heart taking a leap, and he felt breath ghosting over his hair. Shit, Zoro was standing close. Another breath, and he shivered so much that one of the bowls slipped out of his hand and splashed water onto his shirt as it fell into the sink.

“What about you?” Zoro asked casually.

“W…what?” His brain seemed to be turned off.

“Are you single?”

“Yes…”

Another breath, a deep one directly at the back of his head. Hell, what was Zoro doing to him?! His whole body shook, his heart seemed to want to break his ribcage, and his cheeks were burning like on fire.

“Good,” Zoro said. “Otherwise, this would be a bit awkward.”

“What do you mea…”

Sanji swallowed the rest of his question as Zoro’s arms wrapped around his body. He could feel his face pressed against the back of his head, inhaling deeply. A low sound - almost like a grumbly purr - came from Zoro and made Sanji shiver. At first, he was stiff as a plank, but he relaxed quickly and let himself sink against Zoro’s body.

“Go on a date with me, Curly?”

“I…”

“Please?”

Sanji wanted to tell him that, at least for him, this was already a date. But maybe it wasn't for Zoro? He didn't say anything about it, just smiled as he felt Zoro’s hand softly brushing over his belly.

“Yeah, I’d love to do that.”

Prev/next

First part

[craziness2345]

First Mission

Chapter two

A/N a little bit of warning there's some fighting in this one mention of blood. let me know what you think of it i promise we will have more wandanat just trying not to rush it to fast.

It’s been a month since I became a part of the team and surprisingly Wanda and Natasha and I have gotten quite close. They've been inviting me to go out on walks with them, even watching movies in the living room. They’ve even invited me on a couple dates with them which I declined not wanting to intrude on their time together. It’s also not helping that I've grown a crush on them so I kind of try to avoid them a little bit but they don’t let me. I let out a groan rubbing my sides slightly to relieve the pain “ Fuck Nat whats the point of training when i’m on the floor “ I grumble as she let’s out a smirk” Not my fault you can’t keep up” She shrugs, scoffing I walk away “ Bullshit” I grumble “ Language” Steve hollers as i frown “ how the hell” I grumble “ you’re not even near me “ I comment “ I have good hearing “ He shrugs.

I roll my eyes as i head on out of the training rooms running into a body i start to fall before my body stops a force holding me up i realize it’s wanda i let out a slight smile” Hey there thanks for keeping me from falling” I comment as she smiles shrugging “ It’s no problem detka just be careful don’t want you hurting yourself” She comments causing me to salute “ ma’am yes ma’am” I say softly grinning at her. This causes her to roll her eyes at me “ you're insufferable” I scoff “ I thought i was your friend “ I comment grinning causing her to roll her eyes again “ go away” she laughs. I hum and head down the hall “ yeah yeah i’m going see ya” I call out heading to my room to shower i get changed tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper i sigh. 

“ Y/N your presence is being requested by the Director” I jump still not used to the AI “ Oh uh thank Friday” I mumble rubbing the back of my head i head out of my room heading up to the meeting room i head in seeing Tony and steve in there i nod too them seeing the director and Maria standing up. “ Y/L/N  how have you been holding up?” Maria asks, causing me to smile “ Not too bad, starks a bit annoying but it’s been good” I comment tony giving me a dirty look” Hey! I gave you my credit card and this is how you show your thanks?” HE says jokingly, causing me to laugh.

Fury clears his throat” It’s good to know you’re handling it all well Agent now i called you three here for a mission it’s pretty simple in and out.” Fury says pulling the files out and handing them to each of us “ You’re leaving in ten it’s a hydra base but i need stealth tony you're extraction steve you’re on incase it goes haywire and Y/N you are going in I chose you for you’re invisibility power so please don’t use the heat vision i need you guy to break into the lab and get all the information onto this drive” he says as i nod” Yes sir” I say grabbing the drive. “ Okay good you three get ready quinjet leaves in ten” He announces.

I get up heading out with Steve and tony. I head straight to my room packing up and changing into my suit and heading out bumping into Natasha and wanda “ Hey i thought we were going out for lunch?” Wanda asks in confusion causing me to wince “ Shit sorry i was given a mission i have to go Raincheck?” I ask, feeling bad as wanda looks at me worriedly Natasha humming “ Be careful don’t get hurt” Natasha says finally as wanda nods in agreement. I give them a smile “ You got it” I say heading down the hall in a hurry. Getting in the elevators I wave to them before they close.

I take a deep breathe nervously looking at the time as i get to the helipad where the quinjet is i head on tony and steve already in “ Took you long enough kid” Tony teases causing me to roll my eyes playfully “Sorry my suit doesn’t have the function to dress me itself” I say sarcastically causing tony to grin “ Thanks for giving me an idea for you’re new suit” He comments excitedly causing me to roll my eyes as i sit down steve driving the quinjet to the coordinates. “ We’ll be in there in an hour” He calls out. I sit back to relax as tony does his own thing.

I decide to pull the file out going over the mission in my head and studying the layout. Not much later we go towards a spot pretty ar from detection i get ready to head ou as we put our comms in.” ok Y/N this is a pretty simple mission let us know if you end up with any problems okay? Tony will be on standby and also be you’re eyes he’ll be hacked into the camera systems to help you just incase. “ Steve says standing by “ just let me know when you need extraction incase of an emergency i’ll be there to get you” He says. I take a moment to digest everything he says before nodding “ Okay got it “ I say heading off the quinjet i wave before going invisible tony grins” That’s so cool” HE mumbles steve shaking his head. I head in the direction quietly before geeting to the base.

I watch the guards going past them and silently following one inside making sure my breathing is slow and quiet as i make my way behind the guard going down a hall i quickly move against the wall as a groupd of hydra agents walk past. I wait a few minutes before walking again as i go down another hall recalling the lay out i stop at a door praying i went the right way as i open it slowly seeing a few hydra agents i curse before quietly and quickly taking them out thankful that there were only three. I appear back as i start tapping into the system tapping on the comm in my ear “ Okay i made it Tony i need you to get on the cameras outside the room to let me know of anyone coming in this is gonna take a minute” I say

“ Alright i got in Kid youre all clear now” He says causing me to nod as i focus on the computer putting the drive in to start the downloading process “ Okay tony we might havea problem” I say “ Whats wrong?” His voice comes through with concern in his tone “ They know i’m here they must of had something that tripped in the files “ I say as he curses” Yeah theres a group of agents heading your way now” He says quickly causing a groan to leave my lips “ Oh of course why wouldn’t there be” I grumble turning to the door as it breaks open “ on my way kid “ He says quickly i just let a noise out in reply ducking out of the way of a hydra agent as another one goes for a punch i quickly back up again kicking his chest. One goes to shoot at me but i quickly pull the agent next to me causing him to get shot as i push him into the other agent cursing since i cant use the heat vision in this small room. I try my best to keep them away from the drive glancing to see how long it has before duck when one of them goes to hit me with a baton “ why the fuck do you have a electric coming from that you psycho” I exclaim ducking again.

I quickly knock another down getting a bit overwhelmed by the mount coming as im distracted i feel an electric current hit me cuasing my body to jolt i fall to the ground for a second groaning in pain.i quickly shake out of it when one of them starts to grab me groaning i throw my head back hitting them in the nose when they pull me up kicking my feet out to knock him down i end up getting punched in the face before tony breaks in “ fucking took you long enough” I snap as he deals with the rest “ sorry sorry i took a wrong turn “ He says as i roll my eyes and start pulling the drive out “ yeah yeah get me the fuck outta here “ i say as he grabs me blasting his way through as he flies us out to the quinjet landing i stumble a bit before standing straight and getting in as we get out of there i buckle up and lean back in my chair tony handing me a rag “ you’re nose is bleeding kid” he says cuaisng me to thank him laying it on my nose pinching it as i lean back tiredly. “ you did good kid “ he says patting my shoulder before sitting down aswell not long later i fall asleep.

                                                      ___________&___________

A 8 year old Y/N runs along the road giggling “ come on Jake were gonna be late to the movie!” Y/N exclaims as Jake her 15 year old brother laughs “ I’m coming i’m coming” He says jogging up to catch up with her as he picks hers up tickling her she starts to laugh wiggling a little in his arms “ now stay with me don’t want you getting lost” he says softly as she pouts “ I’m sorry jake” she say as he sets her down “ It’s fine cutie” he says messing up her hair “ I’m just kidding i would never lose you i’ll always be by yourside “ he says as she looks up “ promise?” She asks quietly as he nods kneeling downto her height he holds his pinkie out “ I pinkie promise” He says causing her to smile widely wrapping her pinkie around his.

                                                     ___________&____________

I shake awake when the quinjet lands rubbing my eyes i realize they were wet quickly looking to make sure tony didn’t notice before relaxing realizing he was sleeping aswell clearing my throat i unbuckle as tony start waking up steve comes out of the pilot seat “ alright don’t forget to fill out your mission reports” he says tony groaning and grumbling as he leaves and i just nod heading off heading straight inside as much as i wanted to bathe i needed to get the mission report done before i forget so i head straight into one of the meeting rooms and sitting down getting started on the mission report making sure to write down each detail of everything that happened. 

I end up losing track of time as i work on the report before not long i hear a person clear there throat. Jolting me from what i was doing i look up to see natasha arms crossed as she leans on the doorframe “ You should get cleaned up “ she states states studying me as i sigh “ i know but i prefer doing the  report now while it’s all on my mind “ I shrug leaning back in my chair “ Yeah well you look like shit with that black eye and swollen bloody nose” she deadpans causing me to roll my eyes “ Thanks” i say sarcastically. 

I lean back tiredly “ I will i’m done anyways” I sigh putting the report away i stand up “ I gotta give this to maria first though” i comment holding the drive in my hand as she hums taking it out of my hand” Go wash up” she orders “ I’ll do this” she says leaving causing me to blink dumb founded by that i sigh getting up and trudging to the elevators going up to my floor i get out and head down to my room pressing the button the doors open up for me as i trudge in undressing i wince looking down at my sidd where i got shocked my skin turning black and blue “ fucking asshole sucha cheap shot” i grumble heading into my bathroom i turn the shower on looking in the mirror hissing at the dried up blood and swollen right eye i touch my tender nose” Fuck you look ugly” i mumble to myself as i head in the shower. I start washing away the dried up blood and wash my hair enjoying the hot water as it relaxes my muscles. Letting my eyes slowly shut enjoying this moment. I stay in the shower for a bit longer before getting out and drying up i stumble out of the room and get changed heading out to the kitchen my stomach grumbling as i go through the fridge “ I left you food in the microwave detka” a sweet angelic voice says turing around i grin “ wanda you are the best” i say happily opening it and pulling the plate out to see its spaghetti i grin excitedly setting it down as i shovel it into my mouth as wanda shakes her head “ Slow down” she scolds causing me to eat slower “ sorry” i mumble with a mouth full of food.

She rolls her eyes “ make sure to ice that eye of yours” she warns as i nod grinning at you “ yes maam” i mumble eating some more of the spaghetti happily. She shakes her her head and hums” don’t forget to rest tommorrow” she says softly before heading off to her and natashas room. I finish eating before heading back to my room collapsing on the bed i turn the tv on and just lay there. My thoughts traveling to old memories of when i was younger hating that i keep going back to that horrible day i shake my head i cover my eyes in annoyance trying to keep my emotions at bay. As i rub my face some more i stare at the tv deciding to just stay up not wanting to relive anymore of those moments. 

                                                     __________&__________

[paddockletters]

PLS WRITE SMTH ABT MARC BERNAL 🙏🏽🙏🏽

against the odds- marc bernal

paring:marc bernal x reader summary: An artist meets football star Marc Bernal, and their bond quickly grows. But with his demanding career and media pressure, their relationship is tested. author's note: Omg, I’m so sorry for the delay, but I hadn’t been around here for a while. You didn’t tell me what kind of story you wanted, but I tried my best to come up with something good. I hope you like it. Again, sorry for the delay. Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

The streets of Barcelona buzzed with the usual evening rush. People hurried through the fading light, but Elena moved at her own pace, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat. She hadn’t meant to end up here again—at her favorite café, a place she usually went to escape her own thoughts. Tonight, however, it felt different, heavier. She had recently broken up with someone she thought was "the one," and it had left her empty in a way she couldn’t explain.

As she settled into her usual seat by the window, her sketchbook open in front of her, Elena found it difficult to focus. The memories of her ex still tugged at her mind. The same questions—Why hadn’t it worked? Was she enough?—kept swirling in her head.

Just as she was about to pack up and leave, the door swung open. The warm glow from the inside illuminated the tall figure stepping in, and a wave of recognition hit her. Marc Bernal. One of Spain’s brightest football stars. His presence filled the small café, but what surprised her more was that he walked straight towards her.

"Hola," he said with a soft smile, his voice deep but gentle. "¿Te importa si me siento aquí?"

She blinked, unsure if she’d heard him right. “Oh, um, no… claro, siéntate,” she managed to stammer.

Marc smiled and took the seat across from her. The café was unusually empty tonight, so they were mostly alone.

“I’ve seen you here before,” Marc began, his eyes flicking toward her sketchbook. “Always drawing.”

Elena gave a shy laugh, glancing down at the pages. “Yeah, it helps clear my head, I guess. Not a lot of that happening tonight, though.”

"Lo entiendo," Marc said, leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to clear your mind, it sticks around. Los pensamientos."

She met his eyes, surprised at how easily he understood her. “Yeah, exactly,” she murmured, feeling the familiar weight of her unspoken thoughts. But for the first time in a while, she felt... seen.

Over the next few weeks, Marc and Elena began spending more time together. It started as simple conversations at the café, but before long, they were texting late into the night, sharing stories about their lives. Marc would talk about the pressure of being a football star, the overwhelming media attention, the constant scrutiny. Elena, in turn, opened up about her art and the lingering heartbreak that still haunted her.

It was during one of their late-night chats that Marc invited her to a match.

"Come and watch," he had said. "I’d love to have you there."

Elena had hesitated at first. It wasn’t like her to get involved with someone whose life was so public. But there was something about Marc, something warm and genuine, that made her want to say yes. And so she did.

The stadium was packed, the roar of the crowd like a living, breathing entity. Elena sat in the VIP section, feeling slightly out of place. But as the game started, she couldn’t take her eyes off Marc. Watching him in his element, commanding the field, was mesmerizing. His confidence, the way he moved with ease—it was intoxicating.

After the game, she met him outside the locker rooms. His hair was still damp from the shower, his smile easy and tired.

"¿Qué te pareció?" he asked, pulling her in for a hug.

"It was... amazing," Elena said, her voice breathless. "I didn’t realize how intense it all was. You’re incredible out there."

Marc grinned. “I’m glad you liked it. It means a lot that you came.”

But that night wasn’t without its complications. As they left the stadium together, cameras flashed, and reporters swarmed. Marc’s grip tightened around Elena’s hand, guiding her through the chaos.

"Lo siento," he whispered, his voice tense. "This part... it’s not easy."

She had known it was coming—the media attention—but it still rattled her. She wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t used to being in the spotlight.

As their relationship deepened, they found themselves struggling to balance their lives. Marc’s schedule was relentless. Training, traveling, games. Elena’s own artistic career was picking up speed, with exhibitions and commissions that demanded more of her time.

“Marc, we haven’t seen each other in weeks,” Elena said one evening as they lay in his bed, the glow of the city lights filtering through the window.

“I know, lo siento, mi amor,” Marc sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Es difícil. Sometimes it feels like I’m always one step behind.”

Elena turned to face him, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “It’s just... I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. I miss you.”

Marc pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “I miss you too. I’ll figure it out. I don’t want to lose this. No quiero perderte.”

But things weren’t as easy as either of them hoped. The distance grew, the missed calls piled up, and soon, Elena found herself questioning if she was enough for him—if they were enough. One evening, after a long day of work, she sat in her apartment, staring at her phone. Marc hadn’t called like he promised. Again.

Her frustration boiled over, and she dialed his number.

“¿Marc?” she began, trying to keep her voice steady. “We need to talk.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Elena, estoy en medio de una cena con el equipo. ¿Puede esperar?”

Her heart sank. “No, Marc. It can’t.”

Silence.

“¿Qué pasa?” he asked, his tone softening, sensing her distress.

Elena closed her eyes, the words she had been holding in for weeks finally spilling out. “I can’t keep waiting for you. This... us... it doesn’t feel like we’re a priority anymore. I’m always the one waiting, and I just... I need more.”

“Lo sé,” Marc said quietly. “You deserve more. Pero, I don’t know how to fix this right now.”

Tears filled Elena’s eyes, and she knew this was the moment. The moment she had been dreading. “Then maybe... maybe we need to let this go.”

Despite their deepening bond, cracks continue appering. Marc’s demanding schedule grew more hectic as the season progressed. The media was relentless, constantly hounding him, and it began to take a toll on their relationship. Elena tried to be patient, but the late-night phone calls and missed plans started to wear her down.

“Marc, you missed dinner again,” Elena said one evening, her frustration barely contained.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” Marc sighed, running a hand through his hair. “El entrenamiento se alargó más de lo previsto.”

“Siempre es lo mismo,” Elena replied, her voice breaking slightly. “I feel like I’m always waiting for you.”

Marc’s face fell. “No es lo que quiero para ti, Elena. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Marc. Just... be here. Be present. I can’t do this alone.”

His heart clenched at the sight of her pain. “No quiero perderte,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Te necesito.”

“Then show me,” Elena whispered, her voice trembling.

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of their love hanging in the air between them. Marc wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He kissed her hair, her forehead, finally pressing his lips to hers, desperate to hold on to what they had.

The next few months were a turning point for them. Marc made sure to carve out time for their relationship, and Elena found herself thriving in both her art and her love life. They had found a balance, a way to be part of each other’s worlds without losing themselves.

One evening, as they sat together on the balcony of Marc’s apartment, watching the sunset over the Madrid skyline, he took her hand.

“¿Sabes qué?” he whispered.

“¿Qué?”

Marc smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m happier with you than I ever was on the field.”

Elena smiled back, her heart full. “Yo también.”

[fountainpenguin]

I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. But I can't get over you City Lights AU Dale. The man looks like he has all the issues and is hanging on by the thinnest thread. One more problem and he will just fully collapse.

😂 I'm eating your asks like sandwich.

^ He is overworking himself in a desperate attempt to make peace with the fact that he never got to hear his late father say "You did everything I ever asked without complaint; you are such a good son and you've made me so proud."

Push him near a goalpost and he'll panic and kick it across the room. We don't know how to process feelings of achievement and pride in this family. Those are Bad Emotions that will get the company steamrolled by competitors... You could lose everything... Is that how you want to be remembered?

I've been waffling on whether to share this WIP or withhold it for in-the-moment drama, but just for you... a treat.

His back ached from hunching; his feet stung from dirt. Vicky didn’t leave me down there; she always came back. “Do you know what that means?” Without waiting for an answer, Dale grabbed Timmy’s shoulder with one hand and pumped his fist with the other. “I’m still her bestie! She didn’t replace me!” “She locked you in a cellar for 7 years,” Timmy started, but Dale cut him off by slamming the bathroom door. And he laughed at nothing, clutching fingers in his hair, because… He really had to talk to her. They could clear this whole mess up! Now, let’s get one thing laid out crystal-flat. Dale knew Vicky had locked him up down in Dimmsdale’s tunnels, sure. He wasn’t stupid. But she wouldn’t have done that at all if he hadn’t threatened to tell untrustworthy adults about The Accident that kicked the lemonade business off in the first place, and it wasn’t her fault he’d been a disloyal friend. He really put her in a bad position there- That can’t be denied. Dale dragged his hands down his face (and dragged his butt down the door) until he thumped on freeze-dried tile. His toes gripped the bathmat. He wrapped his arms around his knees. I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I'll be better. I'm ready to listen now.

Prompt #96 - "You Deserve It"

My terrible headcanon is that if it took 7 years for Dale to work up the courage to open a trapdoor and crawl out, and he didn't file charges severe enough to stop Vicky from babysitting Timmy, he is not the kind of person who would stop hanging out with her SDLFKJ.

Also, here's a sketch I made for this post. I opted not to post it there, but I think it captures My Vision really well:

Toxic ex-BFFs with a very weird dynamic post-lemon pit torture, gossip buddies, and a secret 3rd thing... silly little guys.

He hates the fighting, but he craves the structure... Being nice to Vicky is the safe option... It's such big "Get real, Dale- No one will ever want to deal with you and your problems; I'm the only one who can put up with your baggage" vibes...

He can tolerate the bruises; he can make little exceptions; friends forgive each other and not forgiving her would mean throwing away the 3.5 years they had before the Real Trouble Began... Do u understand...

I've been brainstorming another WIP of Dale fantasizing about terrible things he wants to do to Vicky, but I'm not sure I'll actually write that one because it's pretty dark SLKDFJ

Listen, I just want Dale to slam Vicky against a wall and it turns out Mark was shapeshifted as her handbag and OH, HE PROTEC-

It's extremely important to me that Dale is nice and sympathetic enough that Dev believes if he can just pry his dad away from business, they can play and have fun. Dale being "sweet and engaging and loving" around his wife and during the holidays has done a NUMBER on Dev's psyche.

[starlooove]

Not the stop clogging the Duke tag page getting ppl mad

[deus-ex-mona]

little brothers and their will to #slay, man </3