#poly!plastics x reader

[rougecreator1]

NorthShore Nowheres // part 1

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader (bit of Cady x fem!reader) (btw I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: loosely follows the movie musical, with reader being Aaron (slight dialogue changes to fit Y/N), light swearing

|| Summary: you're the leader of the NorthShore Nowheres biker gang/clique. The plastics take an interest in you, but so has Cady...

Requested by Anon!

Requests open!

~~~

The sound of your motorcycle filled the parking lot as you zipped through and parked in your usual spot, taking your helmet off and twisting your head slightly in a way that fixed your hair. For the plastics, who had been watching you from the side steps of the school, time seemed to play in slow motion. Watching as you flick your hair and get off your bike. Your walk radiating pure confidence. The girls shared a look with one another.

"We're all in agreement?" Regina asked her girlfriends, who nodded and looked back at you. Watching as you walked past them, heading up the steps and giving the school's polycue a wink.

~~~

You sat in AP Calculus. Not listening to a word Ms Norbury was saying as she stood at the front, hands on her hips and looking out at the rows of students. You simply folded a paper airplane and tossed it at some random kid next to you, making another stifle a laugh as you smirked. The student swatted the paper plane away.

"Y/N L/N." Ms Norbury gave you that signature warning look, which made you roll your eyes and she continued on with her lecture," Chapter one! Limits and their properties. What the heck are limits, you say? If I write out the equation..."

You started zoning out, hand on your chin and elbow on your desk as you stared at the board blankly.

"The limit equals 3." A voice from behind you spoke up, pulling you from your day dreams.

"That's right." Ms Norbury said, sounding surprised. " Let's try another one. Find the value for K for which the following limit exists."

"K equals -3." The girl says again.

"Damn, girl!" Some mathlete kid piped up.

You looked behind at the girl and smirked," Wow. Are you trying to make the rest of us look like dumbasses?"

"No- I'm- I'm not- trying to it's just sort of happening..." She replied, stuttering as she stared at you. Adorable. You laughed.

"Oh? Is that how it is? Okay. Well..." You leaned a little closer," challenge accepted."

You turned around, looking down at your paper with a sigh. The new girl on your mind. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your pen then gently trailed your hand through your hair as you began working on your paper. Why did you sign up for AP Cal? This class was going to kill you.

Behind you, you heard something fall to the ground and looked to see Cady's pen. You bent down and picked it up, handing it to her with a smile before looking at the board again. You could have sworn you heard music coming from somewhere...

~~~

After school, you were outside with some of your biker gang. Just chatting and hanging out as you fidgeted with your phone. You happened to notice Cady watching you and gave her a small wave. Then turned your attention towards your gang again; when Cady almost got hit by the bus, your eyes widening slightly. You debated going to check on her. But she said that she was okay. Which made you sigh with relief from where you stood a bit away.

~~~

The following day, you and your gang sat at your usual lunchtable. Rough housing with each other, laughing and spreading gossip as you usually do. You glanced over at the plastics table, watching as Regina got up and walked away.

Karen and Gretchen were talking with Cady. "So, have you seen any guys you think are cute yet?" Karen asked.

"Oh, um- not a guy- but well actually there's this girl in my Calculus class." Cady responded.

"Ohhh, a senior! Who is it?" Gretchen replied.

"Ah, Y/N L/N." Cady replied, Karen and Gretchen shared a panicked look.

"You can't like Y/N L/N!" Gretchen said quickly.

"No, no bad, danger." The danger Karen said was loud enough to get your attention, you glanced at them in confusion then rolled your eyes and focused on your group again. Getting shoved by one of your friends who you playfully shoved back and smirked at.

"We're after her so you can't have her." Gretchen states, looking over at you and your gang's table," Crushes are off limits for friends that's just like the rules of feminism."

One of your friends in your gang wrapped an arm around you and started filming a TikTok. Instinctively you winked at the camera then laughed slightly and looked at your friend, who's name was Julia. But no one called her that, pretty much everyone referred to her as Jules. "Jules, girlie. What weird trend are you hoping on now?" You asked with your usual charming smile. Two things you had a reputation for. Being a bad girl. And then your charm, even if you weren't overly popular people still loved you. You just weren't Apex Predator worthy. Possibly like whatever was a few chains down from that, though.

"That one silent review trend. Featuring you." Jules pointed at you and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Definitely tag me in that." She nodded and you gave her shoulder a gentle pat.

~~~

At the end of the day, you and your gang hanged out at your usual bench. With you sprawled out across it and Jules laying across you. You guys were close friends, though there were rumours you were a thing. One of your friends made a joke and you laughed, though it was cut short as the plastics walked over. Regina with her arms folded, Gretchen and Karen following behind.

Regina's intimidation was enough to scare Jules off you (and the rest of your gang). They excused themselves as you sat up, watching the three in confusion. Once again you swore you heard music... with faint jungle sounds?

"Something I can do for you?" You folded your arms, a little annoyed Regina scared off your friends.

"You. Us." Regina gestures to herself, Gretchen and Karen," Date to the movies Friday night. Wear something nice." She looks you up and down, you glance at your baggy jeans and leather jacket before looking at Regina again.

"Is this you inviting me into your polycue?" If you're being honest, you have wanted them for a while. You just didn't want to risk making a fool of yourself. Regina's gaze tells you everything you need to know, so you nod." Alright. Friday night."

Regina smiles and walks over, kissing your cheek before looking towards Cady who had been watching. She beckons Cady over and then walks away from you. Gretchen and Karen linking arms as they giggle, Gretchen sending you a wink. Your face flushes and you look away, making a mental note to be extra careful. The last thing you wanted to do was piss off all three.

~~~

Feedback is welcomed! Probably going to make this a 3 part story (maybe longer depending), each part being about a half an hour chunk of the movie with extra bits added in between. Just so this doesn't become overly long, yk?

[meangirls-imagines]

Hi!!! I’m just wondering about any kinks reader might have in the poly!plasticsverse, and you know maybe any kinks the girls might have too

Poly!Plasticverse Kinks (18+):

Gretchen is a PILLOW PRINCESS

Has a praise kink AND a degradation kink

LOVES to be eaten out

Crazy for nipple play (she can cum just from that)

Loves to be choked (chokes herself sometimes)

Loves, loves, LOVES, dry humping

Loves being spanked (floggers, hands, etc.)

SHE HAS A PAIN KINK

HAND. KINK. (She gets caught staring at Y/N's hands while they play guitar and 9 times out of 10 leads to her getting plowed)

She loves being overstimulated

Gretchen is a squirter

Once in a blue moon, she will top one of the girls or Y/N (double-ended dildo)

Karen has a massive toy collection

COSTUMES!!

She loves to be gagged

She loves being tied up

She goes full shibari sometimes

LOVES SENDING NUDES TO HER GIRLS

Sends them spontaneously

Karen is into butt plugs and things of that nature

She misbehaves one day and Regina makes her wear a butt plug to school. Y/N makes her wear a bluetooth vibrator too.

MAJOR service submissive

She likes to clean the house, wash the dishes, gets punished when she doesn't do her tasks

BRATTY AS FUCK (Runs her mouth a little too much for her sake)

Knows her tits look great so she wears things that accentuate them.

Likes getting marked by her girls, likes wearing hickeys like they are accessories.

Karen is ticklish (sometimes its foreplay for her)

Regina George has a major breeding kink

Loves getting her hair pulled

Her neck is her weakness (kissing, nibbling, licking, etc.)

Regina gets WET (like dripping down her thighs wet)

Likes being bitten

She scratches down her girls backs

Likes to leave marks on her girls

Financial Domme

Def has an OnlyFans

MAJOR LEATHER KINK (leather, latex, PVC girly)

Sadist™️

Only lets Y/N top her (only lets Y/N fuck her ass)

Calls Y/N "daddy", makes Gretchen and Karen call her "Mommy"

Loves high/drunk/crossfaded sex (If Regina smokes, Y/N knows they are fucking)

Major exhibitionist (has a "places to fuck" fucket list)

The class she shares with Y/N is after lunch and on the days Y/N skips lunch to go smoke with Aaron and Shane, when they’re in class, all Regina has to do is whisper the word daddy in Y/N’s ear and she’s getting fingered while learning about the French Revolution

HAS A PINK STRAP

The council (@yungpoetfics) and I have decided Cady is babygirl and that is her kink.

Top-leaning switch

Sadist and Masochist

Very into suspension

Foot fetish

(Has chatted to Shane about celebrities feet)

Blood kink (loves period sex) (allegedly a vampire)

Knife kink

Bondage

Very into edging her girl

CNC

Wax kink

BODY PAINTING

Janis fucks her girl in the art room (has used a paintbrush as a makeshift dildo)

Collars/chokers

Girly is a GIVER (iykyk)

Y/N has topped her (multiple times)

Breath play

Loves Regina's boobs (the boobs that made her a gay boob girly)

Has read the kamasutra front to back

100% a switch (emotional bottom physical top)

Likes unusual positions

Super flexible

Firm believer of "sit on my face, don't hover. even if i die, SIT"

Proud member of the Mile High club (on a no fly list)

Shower sex enthusiast

Somnophiliac

Lactation kink

Dry Humping

Thigh Riding

SIZE KINK (2/3 of the plastics are taller than her and she's taller than, Gretchen, Janis, and Cady)

Likes being blindfolded

SEX ON THE BEACH

Fucking in crowds (fucked Regina at a Paramore concert)

Loves being called Daddy

HAS PEGGED SHANE

Wears a packer

BOTTOM!Y/N HCS BELOW

Whimpers if overwhelmed

Her sensitive spots are her back (scratches, massages, etc.) and her thighs

Brat

Likes being forced to submit (puts up a hell of a fight)

Thinks veins are hot (she likes fucking her girl after gym when she can see veins popping and her girl is sweaty and breathless)

Likes being choked

Likes being slapped (yes on the face)

"Hit me harder" "Show me no mercy"

Later regrets those sentences

VOYEUR (watches Regina fuck Gretchen and Karen and rubs one out)

Likes giving Shane head (He's rough) (SHE SWALLOWS)

Has had a threesome with Aaron and Shane (and a foursome including Cady in that group)

Note: @yungpoetfics and I got very VERY carried away with Y/N. Just know, the smut you guys will get from the poly!plasticsverse/y/n's harem is going to be HOT

[tvseries-writings]

@meangirls-imagines @yungpoetfics soo…Can I join to the poly!plastics x reader? :)

(Req. are open)

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEW JOBS AND DEATH THREATS — cod x reader

CRAVE YOU — call of duty x reader CHAPTER ONE

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + alejandro vargas + rodolfo 'rudy' parra + könig + keegan p. russ

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, prison au, serial killer au, reverse harem, therapist/patient, medical inaccuracies, graphic violence, depictions of murder, everyone's unhinged, poly tf141, minor ships, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, this is not medical advice!!

series masterlist. read on ao3.

Life was hard. That was a fact.

Bills and groceries didn’t pay for themselves. That was also a fact.

Adding these two factors together, the final product will be a high-risk job in one of the highest-risk places on Earth. That’s… not a fact.

And yet, here you are, standing at the visitor entrance of Las Almas Prison, sporting a disgruntled grimace and a new pair of black slacks that you’d splurged on. They, at least, made your ass look good, although that was truly the least of your worries.

No. Your current list of worries looked something like this;

Getting Murdered

Getting Attacked

Vomiting Within The First Five Minutes Of Your New Job?

…Yeah. Something like that.

The early morning sun is blinding where it sits, just off to the side of the giant concrete building that was the main offices and Visitor Centre. The fact that you were standing in front of what was only a small part of the overall prison grounds was… alarming.

You were well aware that this was the largest prison in your country, housing the most lethal and awful of criminals. Some you’d seen either on the news, or heard of in passing conversations.

This was the real deal. And, somehow, you’d managed to find yourself being hired to work here. You. Work with serial killers. The worst of the worst.

With the stress on your bank account, and the endless struggle that was trying to find a stable career in the current job market, you simply had no other choice but to accept the offer. It paid extremely well, had great benefits, and your safety was… fairly considered.

The amount of NDAs, liability clauses and agreements, however?

Not the best at calming your nerves, to say the least.

The biting chill of the winter wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself, leather bag slung over your shoulder as you finally step through the automatic sliding door.

You’re not surprised to find that the chill only deepens inside the concrete walls of the building, with no heaters or air conditioning from what you can see. There is, however, bright white overhead lights that do nothing except aid the throbbing in the side of your head – probably due to the restless sleep you’d had the night before, anticipation and anxiety warring inside of your thoughts.

There’s an office in front of you as you step in, with only a few decades-old couches to your right, in front of a dingy TV that’s turned off. Saving their budget for more important things, you suppose.

The walls are a pale, grimy yellow, with sparse photos hung about, framing newspaper articles that are surely from the last century, and black and white pictures of the prison’s opening.

It’s an unsettling place, that much you’ve already gathered.

You haven’t even actually been inside the prison, you remind yourself, your stomach churning where it now lays at your feet.

Without a second thought, you continue with hurried steps to the front desk, where scratched plastic encases the sole woman inside, sitting behind a monitor. There’s a circle of holes that allow for sound to pass through, but other than that, there’s no way of entering from this room. With a quick study of your surroundings, you see a steel door to the left of where the desk sits, with a small square window covered in iron bars.

…Jesus christ.

“Can I help you?” The woman drawls, sliding her glasses further up her nose. Her voice is nasally, and the words come out in a slow drawl as she looks you up and down, unimpressed.

You give her your best smile, although even you can tell that it’s an uneasy one. “Yes! This is my first day, I think I’m supposed to be meeting Kate Laswell?” You ask, nerves betraying your voice with unsteady breaths.

The woman snaps her gum.

You stand there.

She blows it again.

You continue to stand there.

Her gaze is bored and completely void of any thought, before she nods slowly. “Laswell… I’ll call her.”

Really, you couldn’t be more shocked if you tried. What the fuck was happening? How could one lack so much… professionalism?

“Hi, Kate. Yes, it’s Jenny. I have a new hire who apparently wants to see you…” Her voice remains that unbearably slow, sloth-like delivery, before her eyes unhurriedly meet yours again. “What’s your name…?”

You give it to her, tone only the slightest bit impatient as you roll back on the heels of your feet. You can only hope that your black boots are appropriate; you’d figured that they were safe, closed-toe and still somewhat professional.

Time would tell. Jenny was giving you the impression that they were more than acceptable, because at least they got you to do your job in a timely manner.

Jenny says a few more words to who can only pray is Laswell on the other end of the phone, before she places it back in its holder. 

“Laswell will be here any…” She pops her gum once more, and maybe, just maybe, you can understand the urge to murder. “Moment.”

You give her a tight, painful smile. “Thank you, Jenny.”

She doesn’t respond, and you decide to just stand back and wait. You certainly weren’t complaining – any more conversation with her would’ve ended with a severe lack of hair on your head.

A minute passes, before a buzz in the pocket of your slacks has your throat tightening. 

Pulling out your phone, your next exhale comes out shaky as you read the text.

Charlie: get milk otw home used it all

No ‘good luck’. No… ounce of care for you, or the absolute stress that comes with a new job, let alone one like this.

When you’d told him about the offer, all he’d said was, “It might make you worth something for a change.” Didn’t even question, not for a minute, the risks that came with a job like this. He simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Doctor?” The sound of a door opening, and the kind, almost motherly tone of the voice has you shoving your phone into your pocket once more as you turn to the source of the sound.

It’s a woman, her hair pulled back into a slick bun, one hand holding what seems to be a clipboard. Her other hand rests in the pocket of a white coat, not unlike one a scientist would be fashioning in a lab. Her smile is warm, the corner of her eyes crinkling as you direct a smile of your own her way.

“Kate Laswell?” You ask, extending your hand for her to shake. Taking her hand out of her pocket, she accepts it gracefully, nodding her head.

“The one and only,” she says, before gesturing to the steel door she’d entered through. “Now, today we’ll get you set up with a keycard, general rules, and I’ll have you meet two of your patients.”

You nod, following her as she swipes a card in a black reader, before the red light buzzes green, and she pulls the door open. Right behind her, you take an unstable deep breath as you take in the greyed, jagged walls, a complete contrast to the painted ones of the entrance room.

“We really are so glad to welcome you to our team,” she continues, her black work shoes clicking against the smooth concrete flooring. She doesn’t turn to you as she speaks, but her voice carries around the echoey hallway. “You’ll make a great addition. A necessary one, also. We’ve needed an innovative, young therapist for a while. Most of our… previous hires have held out-dated beliefs, and a lack of humanity for their clientele.”

That makes your brows furrow in confusion. “That’s… odd,” you murmur, before pausing your steps as Laswell stops, swiping her keycard, before entering another room.

As you step into the newly revealed space, your eyes go wide as you take it in. 

It’s a wide, large space, with several floors. Metal staircases sit at either end of the vast space, allowing access to every floor. Guards sit at every level, some walking around the space where you and Laswell stand.

It’s a lot, all at once. You’d never even stepped foot into a prison – not before now.

“Most inmates are at the mess for breakfast,” Laswell supplies, turning to you with a neutral expression. She gestures for you to follow her back out of the space, and you do with hurried steps. “The ones you’ll be dealing with, however… they usually eat by themselves.”

You don’t decide to push that statement, not now, as you continue to follow her down the hallway.

“You won’t be seeing much of the prison,” she admits. “There’s heavily guarded spaces on the top floor for your sessions, both for your protection and for the safety of our staff and other low-risk inmates.”

You nod, humming a sound of affirmation as the two of you start heading up the cleaner steps at the end of the hallway. The staff staircase, you suppose.

“Today, you’ll be meeting two of our more… understanding ambers.”

You raise a brow. “Ambers? What does that mean?”

She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough to shoot you a knowing look. “Ambers are our highest-risk inmates. We house ten of them, and you’ll be dealing with eight as per your contract.”

Your stomach falls. You’d known, of course, that the risks were high when applying for this role. But… this was more than you’d imagined, in a way. Ambers. Huh.

Silence falls over the two of you as you make your way up the never-ending steps, no windows in sight. It’s unnerving, in a creepy, strange way. When you finally reach the top, you try and hide how out of breath you are from that small exertion.

Fucking christ.

Laswell, for her part, looks completely fine in an effortless way. You can’t eve find it in yourself to be envious. The feeling’s closer to admiration.

“Here’s the files on them both. You’ll be seeing Kyle Garrick first,” she hands you the clipboard she’d been carrying, and you accept it with only a slight tremble. She doesn’t comment on it, and you find yourself warming up to her already. “They’ll be restrained, and there is heavy security, so you needn’t worry about that side of things.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you say earnestly, flipping through the files without reading much of anything, not yet. 

She waves you off with a soft chuckle. “None of that. Kate’s more than fine,” she insists, and you give her a bright smile in return. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad – a boss like this was much better than a creepy middle-aged man any day of the week.

You don’t realise you’ve made it to a small room until she stops walking, scanning her keycard and pushing the door open, gesturing you in. “While you have your first two sessions, I’ll sort your keycard and the rest of the processes out. I wish you luck.”

With that, the door shuts behind you, and you’re alone in a small room.

It matches the rest of the hallways you’ve seen – grey concrete walls, grey concrete floors. The only furniture, however, is one metal table drilled into the floor in the centre, one chair on either side. 

…It’s depressing. Not at all like you’d prefer, not for a fucking therapy session, but then again, you hadn’t met your clients yet.

Ambers. High-risk.

With a deep breath, you take a seat at the chair closest to you, finally reading through the top file on the clipboard.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. 

You skim over the height, weight, sex – immediately reading the comments made and his sentence.

Mass murderer. Motivated attacks.

Your eyes go wide, almost comically so, as you bite at your lip, folding one leg over the other as you continue to read. 

Of course, you’d prepared, been made aware that you’d be dealing with murderers. But having it in black and white, right in front of you, is a whole other thing entirely. 

Apparently, they were motivated attacks. Targets being large CEOs, specifically those with reported claims of misuse of power, and those against green laws. Anti-environment types.

The motive is… you’re aware killing is bad. You hadn’t spent years studying for a degree in Psychology to think otherwise. But it wasn’t as simple as some made it out to be. You’d done papers suggesting that certain motives implied healthier patterns, healthier outlets.

If you had to choose between him killing pregnant women, and CEOs with broken moral compasses?

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out your answer.

You’re about to flip the page when there’s a knock on the door on the other side of the room, before it opens.

There’s two guards that walk in, before a man in an olive green jumpsuit follows, hands cuffed tightly together in front of him, head down. Another guard from behind shoves him in, too rough for your liking. You sit up straighter, eyes assessing as you take in the man in the jumpsuit.

He’s forced into the chair opposite you, before one of the guards grabs his cuffed wrists and chains them to a rig in the middle of the table. You’re grateful for the precautions, but there’s a part of you that feels guilty watching the manhandling of the seemingly calm man.

“Half an hour,” the most brutish guard of them all grits out, beer belly spilling out over his belted jeans. He jostles the chain attaching his wrists to the table unnecessarily, and your eyes narrow.

He goes to leave, along with another guard, but one stands to stay in position inside, beside the door.

Your brows furrow, and you speak up before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sir, but my sessions will need confidentiality, as for the best results. I’m sure that I’ll be safe with his restraints.”

The guard stares you down, seemingly mulling your words over, before shrugging and leaving the room, door shutting behind him.

…Huh. Alright.

You find your posture relaxing, just slightly, which is odd, considering you’re now only a metre or two away from a convicted murderer.

His gaze is trained to the table, left foot tapping incessantly against the concrete floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz,” you say with a soft tone and a gentle smile. You figure that his nickname is the best bet, not wanting to stir up any possible traumas with his given name during your first session with the man. “I’ll be your new psychiatric evaluator.”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours, and he nods slowly, as if awaiting a punchline. 

“Is it okay for me to call you Gaz?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and flipping to an empty page to take notes on. You’d need to grab a notebook from home, you decide.

He relaxes, only the smallest of movements, and he nods. “Gaz, yeah.”

Your smile widens at the small victory. Any step towards progress was a huge one, in your eyes. You’d be facing a lot of them in the coming days.

“Do you have any advice for this place?” You push, trying to form a bond of trust with the dark-haired man. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first patient, and I’ve only met Laswell and… Jenny?”

His mouth quirks at that, a dimple showing to the left of his mouth as he looks back up at you. “Jenny’s a character, ain’t she?”

You laugh, a genuine one, and nod. “She certainly is. You’ve met her?”

He shrugs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Few times, yeah. She drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” His accent is only minimally apparent, but his voice is of a somewhat humorous tone.

Small victories.

“Well,” he exhales, settling into his chair a bit as he seems to ponder. “Do ya know who else you’re assigned to?”

You’d been sure to thoroughly go over your contract, and you were allowed to disclose your other patients between your others. They’d find out within the day, anyways, so there was no point in being discreet.

“It’s only you and a… John Price? Today. I’m sure I’ll find out the other six over the next few days,” you say, appreciating that he’s starting conversations. It’s more than you’d allowed yourself to hope for.

Gaz’s eyes light up, and even if you hadn’t been incessant in watching him, it’d be an obvious shift in emotions. “Price?”

You nod, quickly making a note on your clipboard, before folding your hands in your lap as you gesture for him to continue with a quick inclination of your head.

“He’s the best. Man’s a legend,” he enthuses. “Love ‘im.”

There’s… a hidden truth to that statement, that you make a mental note to unpack during a later session. Your smile is a natural one as you say, “He’s an amber, correct? Laswell told me I’d been assigned eight out of ten ambers… you’re one of them, right?”

Gaz seems to fold into himself, and you kick yourself for going back to square one. He answers, however.

“...Yeah. Only Ghost ‘nd Valeria are aggressive, though. We’re just… misunderstood,” he murmurs, and in the back of your brain, you find yourself believing his words.

“Thank you,” you smile, and he responds with a sharp one of his own. Maybe you’d covered more ground than you’d expected. “I think it’d been mentioned that I was only assigned men, due to the nature of the job, or something like that.”

Seeming to mull over your words, he starts to slowly nod. “Sounds ‘bout right. As long as you don’t get Graves, you’ll be alright. The others are… fuckin’ weird, but they’re good men. Mostly.”

That’s a lot of information at once, and quite frankly, it takes a moment for you to process. 

“‘Good men’. What do you think it takes to be a good man?” You ask, curiosity laced into your tone. Getting to ask such questions of a convicted murderer, it’s a thrilling, exhilarating task.

His eyes don’t shift as he replies. “Good men do the acts others are too scared to do. They see the evil in the world, and rid of it with their own bare hands. You can be an ethical murderer, Doc.”

Those words, they’re – they’re authentic, and conviction aches in their structure. 

You swallow around a dry mouth.

“You think you’re a good man?” You ask.

His smile would be seen as warm to any who weren’t aware of his acts, but to you – it’s chilling. Haunting in a way you’ve never experienced.

It remains as he answers.

“I think that I’m a man who people wish they had the bravery to be.”

a/n. okay so im really nervous about posting this, cause ITS EIGHT FUKCING LOVE INTERESTS and also im a humanities girl not a science one!! sociology all the way not psych!! so forgive me for all the inaccuracies and legality issues please. im just a girl. hopefully u guys will like this one? i mean, obsessed serial killers cod is smth i need so here we are. all comments and feedback mean so muchhh ty ily mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. [nothing to see here.]

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ SATORU, BE NICE! ❞

— poly! satosugu verse, satosugu x reader, feeding them, shoko cameo, satoru serial sweets devourer, kind of proofread, I wrote this in twenty minutes EUGH

You’ve never heard of ‘selective smelling’ before, but you think Gojo might have it. Not thirty seconds after you’ve taken the lid off your peach cobbler, there’s the quick scrub of metal against wood flooring, and you turn around to see him sitting next to you at your kitchen island. His gaze darts back and forth between yours and the dessert in front of you. It’s a silent, obvious question. Or more like a demand, because if you even hint at a refusal then he’ll whine about it for hours.

Sighing, you ask, “Do you want som–“

“Glad you asked!,” he interrupts, smile growing as Gojo leans forward, chin in hand. “Yes, indeed I do.”

Shoko chimes in from your couch. “Tell him to piss off, he’s so greedy.” Geto nods in agreement.

He turns to glare at her. “Shut up, she offered.”

“Yeah, because you were gonna stare her down otherwise.”

Your eye catches Geto’s, and you both share a grin and a head shake. Creamy, vanilla ice cream plops down from your spoon to top off the peachy dessert, and Gojo halts his bickering at the sound of metal scraping hard plastic. He looks to see you shoveling the spoon into your mouth, watches the content look on your face as you savor the flavorful taste. Comparable to a begging puppy he is, wide, pleading eyes and you can practically see a tail wagging behind him as Gojo hungrily eyes the bowl. Ocean blues flicker in your direction, brows raised in a ‘my turn?’ as his hand creeps toward the spoon.

“Ah, ah.,” you scold him. “I’ll do it, you might eat half of it in one bite again.”

You find Geto slipping into the chair behind you as you scoop up another, normal amount of peaches and vanilla on the spoon. Gojo’s eyes light up, bright and vibrant, you think you see a trace of drool on the corner of his mouth. Though his excitement is swiftly replaced with confusion when you pull back, avoiding the swipe of his hand to grab the utensil from you.

“Open up, ahhh!,” you mimic the command to him, holding a hand beneath the spoon to capture any drips. Satoru obeys without complaint, delight shining through his expression as you dip the spoon into his mouth, retrieving it from closed lips to find it now empty. In typical dramatic fashion, he gives a loud moan, beaming the whole time, enjoying the sweet taste of peaches and cinnamon.

“Good boy.” And you pat the white strands atop his head. Gojo’s eyes flit open at your praise, chews hesitating for a second, before flecks of red begin to sprinkle across his cheeks. Geto chuckles at his friend’s embarrassment, before looking at you offering him a taste.

“Want some?”

Gojo, face still a light shade of red, wraps possessive arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder to lean his head against yours. “Don’t offer him any, it’s for me.”

And if Geto didn’t want some before, he definitely wants a try now. “Sure, I’ll have some.”

Call it utter betrayal, or Gojo’s craving for your attention at all times, but either way he doesn’t like the victorious look Geto gives him as he leans forward to take the spoon between his lips, allowing you to feed him in the same fashion.

“Oops!” Gojo looks away as he readjusts, bumping your arm and causing you to smear a dollop of ice cream on the corner of Geto’s mouth.

“Satoru!,” you give him a disapproving look, thumbing away the white cream and licking it off your finger, not noticing the way Geto studies the motion. “Be nice, or you don’t get anymore!”

He only gives a pouty ‘fine!’, and watches in what might as well be agonizing pain as the spoon disappears into Geto’s mouth. He chews it once, twice, a couple times, and then swallows it down.

“Like it?,” you ask.

“Very much.” Geto’s never been too big on sweets. “Can I have another try?”

Gojo leans forward to stare right at you, pulling you into hypnotizing rivers of sky blue. “No, it’s my turn!”

He’s never been one to argue just for the sake of it, but over you, Geto will gladly engage. “You’re gonna end up eating most of it anyway.”

“That’s not the point, and I got here first, wait your turn!”

And while they bicker, you just eat spoonful after spoonful, raising indifferent brows at Shoko and she smirks in return. Maybe it’ll be all gone by the time they decide who goes next, and neither of them will get another taste.

@staryukis satoru dog comparisons so I thought of u bestie <3

[moonstruckme]

hiiii sorry I feel like I request so much I just love your stories!!!! could you do an EMT poly!marauders where the reader is coming home from an injury or surgery or something and they’re just being all sweet and overprotective of her

Don't be sorry sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! <3

cw: mentions of hospital, surgery (no details), nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

“Careful of the step,” Remus warns as he unlocks the front door. 

James makes a disgruntled little sound as he passes over it with you in his arms, angling you sideways to get you both through the front door. 

“I know where the step is,” he says. “I’ve lived here exactly as long as you.” 

“I just wanted to make sure.” Remus heads straight for the bathroom. “Do you want to have some more ibuprofen, dove? It’s been long enough now.” 

“Yes, please,” you call after him. James sets you down on the couch, a divot forming between his brows at the thick quality to your voice. 

“Siri has your bag,” he reminds you. “You want it, just to be safe?” 

You nod, swallowing. 

Sirius hustles over, crouching in front of you and holding the plastic bag under your mouth. “Oh, baby,” he coos, setting a hand on the back of your neck while you shudder and cough unproductively over the bag. “I know, I’m sorry. Better make it aspirin, Rem,” he calls down the hall. “She’s still got a fever.” 

“How bad?” 

“I’ll check in a bit.” He presses his lips to your hairline, murmuring softly. “She’s under duress at the moment, aren’t you, poor girl?” 

You want to cry for the sweetness in his tone, not one ounce of teasing. It can be hard to tell with Sirius, sometimes, but when you’re not feeling well he goes gooey-soft and saccharine as honey, all pet names and gentle touches. His thumb strokes the baby hairs at your nape. 

Remus sighs as he comes back. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked her out.” 

“I didn’t want to stay there,” you say into the bag, and James splays a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. 

“We know, sweetheart.” He gives his fretful boyfriend a reassuring smile. Remus returns it wearily. “We can take care of you just fine from here, don’t worry.” 

Within an hour of waking up from your surgery feeling nauseous and pathetic, you’d been begging anyone who would listen to let you go home. The hospital had wanted to monitor you for a couple more hours, but after that your boyfriends had been able to exercise some sort of paramedic privilege and take you home early despite the normal two-to-three-day inpatient protocol. Your troubles hadn’t evaporated the way you’d expected upon getting out from under all that fluorescent lighting, but you do feel much better being miserable on your own couch. 

You cough into the bag a few more times before relinquishing yourself to the idea that you’re stuck with this nausea for the foreseeable future. “I don’t like this,” you decide, lowering the bag from your face. 

Remus tosses a thermometer to Sirius, who catches it with a good-natured eye-roll and sets it in your ear compliantly. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” James says, his hand migrating to your shoulder as you lean back against the couch cushions. “I know it’s rough right now.” 

The thermometer beeps, and Sirius reads the number aloud as he takes it out. You frown. 

“Oh, thank god,” Remus exhales. James chuckles at him. 

“It’s okay?” you check. 

“Perfectly okay.” Sirius kisses your temple. “That’s completely normal for the first twenty-four hours. You’re all good, sweetness.” 

Pathetically, you feel a bit invalidated. To feel as gross as you do, surely your brain would have to be fully boiling in there. James must see some of this on your face, because he scoots closer to you on the couch, leaning you against his side. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly. 

You can feel Sirius gaze boring into the side of your head as he perches on the armrest. “Not sure why you would be,” he mutters, worming his cold feet underneath your thigh, “but do go on.” 

“I made you all take me home and now I’m being difficult.” 

You’re not quite looking at any of them, but you could swear a collective sigh goes up from your boyfriends. 

“Dove,” says Remus, “look at me.” 

You do, shifting ever so slightly closer to James' side for comfort. A quiet chuckle rumbles through him, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your shoulder. 

Remus’ gaze is steady and kind, his usual remonstrance curbed for your sorry state. “You’re not being difficult,” he tells you. “You’re tired and not feeling well, and that’s to be expected after a procedure like this. I didn’t mean I regret us taking you home, I’m only nervous that you’d have been better taken care of in the hospital.” 

“Impossible,” Sirius remarks. Remus nods in grudging acknowledgement. 

“I’m glad I’m home,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice teeters on the edge of a whimper. “I’d rather be with just you guys, you know?” 

“We know,” Remus says gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” 

James makes a soft sound, rubbing your shoulder more firmly. “Are you feeling tired, angel? We could have a nap.” 

“We?” you ask.

“What, you think you’re the only one who deserves a rest?” Sirius wiggles his toes underneath your thigh. “You got to sleep just this morning. We’ve been worrying all day long.” 

You smile. He looks thrilled to see it, and James stamps a kiss of approval on your cheek. “Right, my bad. A nap sounds good.” 

“Perfect,” Remus agrees, standing. James needles his arms underneath you to pick you up again. 

“Fairly sure they said I could walk on my own,” you say. 

James only shrugs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Not sure I heard that part. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

[roosterr]

by your hand | 01

kyle garrick x gn!reader x john soap mactavish

wc: 3.4k summary: johnny leaves you alone again, and kyle is more than happy to fill the space he left behind. warnings: unrequited love (for now), love triangle -> poly pipeline, lots pining longing and desiring, gaz is kind of a nervous wreck, a tiny bit of angst, tasteful clichés, everybody is down bad

so,,, i'm starting another series. don't look at me. based on a request i got forever ago and this idea <3

will you let me know if john is coming home tonight? 21:04

the text from you sits open on kyle's phone, the only light illuminating his face in his otherwise dark living room. a deep sigh escapes him as he drags a hand down his face, a fruitless attempt to rid himself of the sinking feeling weighing down on him.

johnny's not coming home, kyle knows he’s not, and if you’re texting him then deep down, you must know that too. he’s meeting up with the same hookup from last week, some guy he met at the pub that kyle knows nothing about because he’d hung up the phone before soap could get too into his usual bragging; and though he hadn’t listened to the details, a twisting ache lingered in his chest for the rest of the day after that.

didn't he tell you? he's staying with another friend tonight 21:07

oh okay 21:11

your curt response sends another pang of guilt through him. how soap could be so blind – as well as just plain stupid – he had no idea, but he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of this opportunity.

his fingers hover above the keyboard, twitching over the letters as he tries to come up with something to say. he could do what he always does, tell you 'of course' and 'don't worry'; or, he could actually do something. he could give in to his selfish desires for once and allow himself to have you, if only for the evening.

and, really, it's been months of this; all the lingering stares he sends your way, touches that last just long enough to still give him plausible deniability – and when you text him like this, the going back and forth over whether it was the right time to make a move, but every time he he finds some bullshit excuse not to.

tonight is different though. he's been patient, and he's not sure he can stop himself from giving in this time.

the decision was made before he even finished the thought. he types out the message and deletes it five times before he decides to just bite the bullet and send it.

maybe i could come round and keep you company? i'll stop by tescos and grab popcorn and we could watch a film? just the two of us? 21:22

the minutes between him sending the text and you reading it are borderline painful. he doesn’t know how you’re going to respond, and that was utterly maddening. maybe he crossed a line, or maybe he'd come on too strong and you could tell how pathetically into you he was–

the buzz of your response cuts his overthinking short. he unlocks his phone with lightning speed the same moment the notification comes through.

that would be nice thanks kyle :) 21:24

his heart stutters in his chest, and an excited grin lifts the corners of his lips. he reads the message a few more times, just to make sure he didn't dream it up, but it doesn't change between blinks. a light feeling replaces the guilt from earlier.

you said yes. you’re going to watch a movie with him, in your flat, just the two of you. with a slightly embarrassing fist pump, he thanks the stars for aligning to make this happen and rushes to the front door. he grabs his jacket and pulls his shoes on in record time, and he's just about to slip his phone into his pocket next to his keys, but it buzzes again before he can.

get sweet and salty pls xxxxx 21:25

a fond chuckle passes his lips at that, the feeling in his heart only getting warmer as he locks the door behind him and makes a beeline for his car.

on it boss 21:25

less than fifteen minutes later kyle is standing outside your building, plastic bag in one hand and the other pressing the buzzer for your flat. he absently wonders what soap would think if he knew about this, if he’d object or if he’d even care in the first place, but once again his worries are interrupted by the click of the front door unlocking.

the easy, if slightly more toned down, smile from earlier is back on kyle’s face as he takes the stairs two at a time – the lift would’ve been too slow, he reasons, and he wants to make the most of every second he has with you.

his footsteps echo through the hall as he finally approaches your flat, his grip on the bag tightening and his heart rate picking up the closer he gets. he’s a moment away from knocking, fist poised above the door, when it swings open to reveal you with a similarly excited grin on your face.

kyle eyes gravitate to yours, lifting the hand holding the bag and somewhat awkwardly leaning the one still hovering on the doorframe. "package secured, boss."

his words get a soft chuckle from you, as you step to the side and gestures for him to come in.

"good work, sarge," you tease, shutting the door behind him and taking the bag from his hand as you make your way to the kitchen, "you can pick what we watch, i can't make a decision like that!"

"roger that," his smile is evident in his voice when he calls after you, "but you're not allowed to complain about my choice!"

"better not pick something shit, then!"

kyle watches you go while he undoes his laces, and takes the opportunity to admire the way you look in your pyjamas. it was just a big jumper and some comfy trousers, nothing special, but a burning heat still rises to the tips of his ears all the same.

this is what soap had to come home to every night? and he still chose not to?

he shakes his head to rid himself of the thought and hangs his jacket on the empty hook by the door, beside yours. tonight, you were his, and he was determined to push all thoughts about his idiot best friend out of your mind.

the movie he'd picked is already waiting for you when you shuffle into the living room, the bowl of popcorn in your hands as you flop down onto the sofa beside him.

"hot fuzz?" you ask, placing the bowl in the space between you and popping a few pieces into your mouth.

"yeah, you seen it?" he presses play on the remote, and you shake your head with a curious smile on your face. he grabs a few pieces of popcorn himself, and tilts his head to give you an eager grin. "oh, it's brilliant, love, one of my all time favourites."

you hum thoughtfully, and with your eyes locked onto the screen, kyle takes the opportunity to lay his arm across the back of the sofa, just behind your shoulders. his heart hammers against his sternum, and he subconsciously holds his breath when you settle further into the sofa, closing the distance between you ever so slightly.

"well, you've set my expectations very high, kyle." you shoot him a playful look that he readily mirrors, before focusing your gaze back on the movie. he breathes a quiet sigh of relief that you didn't comment on his manoeuvre, the nervous tension melting from his muscles.

it's hard not to be comfortable around you. even when you're just sitting in each other's presence, it comes so naturally, like it's by design. despite the movie being one of his favourites, he can't help the way his gaze drifts to your profile.

do you see this as a date? because kyle definitely does. or, he wants to, but does it really count if it's just him that thinks that way? was he reading too far into this?

lost in his anxieties, he doesn't realise that when he reaches to grab some popcorn that you do the same, and the sparks that fly up his arm from where your fingers brush startle him back down to earth. he braves a look at you, a bashful smile finding its way onto his face as he meets your eyes.

"you were right," you murmur, and dart your eyes back to the screen in an almost nervous way, "this is really good."

a satisfied feeling blooms in his chest knowing that you liked his choice. "it's part of a trilogy, y'know. we'll have to watch the other two at some point."

there's a pause then, where you get a contemplative look on your face, and kyle holds his breath waiting for your response.

"maybe not tonight," your gaze falls to your lap, and he's afraid for a moment that he'd overstepped before you continue, "but i'd like that."

he smiles at you again, giving your leg a small nudge with his own. "next time soap is out pub crawling, then, yeah?"

your expression twitches downwards, darkening for a split second that he just about catches, before you put on an obviously forced smile. "yeah, sounds good."

fuck.

why did he say that? soap is the last person you want to be thinking about, and the last person he wanted to bring up tonight, so why on earth did he say that?

the silence that follows is negatively charged. your eyes are locked onto the tv screen, but there's a distracted look in them now.

kyle clears his throat, trying to swallow down the hot embarrassment rising to his face, "sorry. shouldn't've brought him up, should i?"

you seem to flinch at his words, your head snapping to fix him with an incredulous look as you stumble over your words. "why– what? why? he does live here."

"i know you like him." kyle frowns when you click your tongue, continuing with a more serious tone than he's had all night, "and i know you know where he is."

you open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. guilt claws at the inside of his ribcage watching you swallow hard, blinking away the despair in your eyes as you face the tv again.

"i don't like him." you mumble, pulling your knees up to your chest and pointedly ignoring kyle’s eyes on you.

he wants to say something, to make this better somehow, but the damage has already been done. god, why did he even start this in the first place? everything was going so well before he said anything, so why did he have to spoil it? 

your brows pull tighter and tighter the longer with every second that goes without a response from him, until you eventually get tired of the concerned look he's giving you and snap. "i don't, kyle! and why should i care what he does with his free time? he's his own man!"

there's a waiver to your voice that only adds to the heaviness building in the pit of his stomach. he shifts his arm from where it rests on the back of the sofa to curl around your shoulders. the movie is still playing in the background, but neither of you are paying attention to it anymore.

"i'm not judging you. we both know how much of a dickhead he is." kyle murmurs, a soft attempt to comfort you while he gently tugs you closer to his side.

you turn your head towards him again, a drained look in your eyes. they glisten with steadily building tears, and kyle's heart breaks at the sight.

"but he's not, not to you or your friends, it's just me that he's– he's like this, i…" your words get stuck in your throat as the first few tears spill past your eyelashes. "...why did it have to be him? i don't–"

"hey, hey," he coos, moving the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table so he can pull you fully into his embrace, "take a deep breath for me, alright?"

you bury your face into his chest, but he still hears the way your breath hitches, and feels the subtle trembling of your shoulders. he draws soothing shapes over your shirt, and he knows that now is the most inappropriate time to be thinking this, but when his fingers brush the skin of your upper arm, the sparks from the contact are impossible to ignore.

the minutes that pass by listening to your muffled sniffling could've been hours and kyle wouldn't have known the difference. he wishes more than anything that he could take your pain away, but the most he can do is be your listening ear and your shoulder to cry on.

eventually you do lift your head from his chest, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks and facing the tv to avoid his eyes. "i'm sorry, i don't know why i'm– i ruined tonight–"

"no you didn't, i'm the one who upset you," kyle murmurs, still with his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. he tilts his head to catch your reddened gaze in the dim light from the tv screen, watching you slowly nod in response.

"god, fucking hell…" you mutter, leaning forward with your elbows n your knees, dropping your face to rest in your palms. his frown deepens as you slowly release a deep breath, the anxiety from earlier returning to worry him that he'd crossed a line.

"if you need some space, i can go?" kyle removes his hand from where it rests on your back, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you had just been – and the hot feeling of his blood as it races through his veins. "if… if you want, yeah?"

"no, no. i– don't go." you stutter, lifting your head just enough to give him a weak glance from the corner of your eye.

"alright," he murmurs, feeling a sense of relief that you didn't outright tell him to piss off, "i'm here."

he moves his arm to rest on the back of the sofa again, an open invite that he's desperately hoping you'll take.

for the second time tonight, the stars align perfectly in his favour, and you lean back to fit seamlessly to his side, your head resting on his bicep. he has to force himself to relax, and consciously remember to breathe.

he would've been satisfied with just that, your proximity to him more than he could've hoped for, but then you whisper something that threatens to stop his heart completely.

"...why couldn't it've been you?"

what?

…what?

did he hear you right? you want it to be him? it could've just been a throwaway comment, but kyle’s never felt such a light feeling in his chest, his head spinning like he might wake up from this dream at any second.

but it's not a dream, because when you stiffen in his hold, he feels the way your muscles pull taught, and he feels your lungs expand with the sharp intake of breath as he says his next words, barely more than a whisper.

"...it can be."

time seems to freeze as you both process what he means. his stare doesn't falter on your profile, watching every minute expression and waiting with bated breath for a response. moments go by with nothing but the white noise of the tv in the background, illuminating the room in multicoloured flashes that highlight the wide-eyed expression you wear.

"what?" you mumble, slowly turning you heard as your eyes give in to the pull of his, meeting kyle’s equally astonished gaze as the air between you turns thick.

he swallows hard, resisting the nervous urge to look away. "it can be me, if that's what you want."

you stare at each other, a good kind of tension sparking in the distance that still separates you.

"kyle, i… i can't do that to you." you murmur, your brows tilting in a display of the turmoil just under the surface. "you deserve more than that…"

you blink and turn your gaze down to the buttons on his shirt. he still stares at you. he takes your hand with his free one, dragging his thumb tenderly over your knuckles. you look back to him, uncertainty swimming in your eyes.

"i– i don't care," the blood rushes in his ears, anticipation and disbelief lighting his nerves on fire as he stares intently into your eyes, not even daring to blink, "i've always wanted you."

"kyle…" you whisper, quiet and unsure, but you don't pull away.

he's toeing the line, he knows, but you're not rejecting him. there's something in him that just can't ignore the fact that he's making a move on his best friend's flatmate, especially when he knows you like soap – but there's a bigger part of him that doesn't care, that just wants you in any way he can have you.

he lets go of your hand to cradle your face, moulding his hand to the shape of where your jaw meets your neck, and edges his face closer to yours.

"tell me you don't want this," kyle murmurs, watching your lashes brush your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed, "tell me to stop, and i will."

he waits, his breathing shallow, for you to say something. he almost wants you to stop him, if only so he doesn't get a chance to fuck this up – but you don't.

you lean further into him, placing your own hand over top of his, and respond in a breathy sigh that he just about hears, "...don't hurt me."

and without a second of hesitation, kyle whispers in reply, "wouldn't dream of it."

he only just gets the words out before you're gently slotting your lips against his. there's a split second of shock where all kyle can do is reel from your touch, but he quickly shakes it off and reciprocates with a shaky sigh against your mouth. he uses the hand on your face to draw you even closer, moving to hold the back of your head while his other arm winds around your waist. 

everything except you is completely forgotten – the drag of your finger as they find his neck, the soft noises you let out under his ministrations, and the dizzying, borderline addictive feeling of your body against his.

he can't help the groan that escapes him when your nails meet his scalp, the blunt scratch only adding to the list of sensations that he'll be thinking about long into the night.

there's a twinge of disappointment within him when you eventually pull away, both of you breathing heavily and holding each other as close as you can. kyle watches your eyes flutter open again, looking deep into his with a hazy, unfocused look to them.

an easy smile pulls at his lips, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek where his hand still rests. you let your own hand fall to his chest, a tiny smile of your own finding its way onto your face.

"we can take it slow, yeah?" kyle murmurs, searching your eyes for any hint of uncertainty that could be hiding there.

"yeah." your voice is airy, still somewhat out of breath as you rest your forehead against his. "you're too good to me kyle."

kyle huffs a quiet chuckle at that, leaning back just enough to be able to see you properly. "'course i'm not, you've just never been treated right."

he feels the heat that rises to your face, and sees your smile grow before you tuck your head just under his collar, turning your attention back to the movie while he chuckles at your reaction.

for the rest of the night, it feels like he's on cloud nine. even as the movie ends and you agree to call it a night, the only thing on his mind is when he can see you again.

"next week," you promise, "we can watch the next one."

he's never wanted the days between today and next friday to pass him by so badly.

when he stands in your doorway and gives you one last peck on the cheek, the smile you give him makes his head and heart feel unbelievably light. even as he's leaving, sending a longing glance back down the hall just before the doors of the lift close, that giddy feeling doesn't leave him.

soap doesn't deserve you, he never did, and kyle would help you finally see that.

[vivwritesfics]

A Swing and a Miss

Crazy golf with the boys

Landoscar x reader

I'm in such a landoscar//poly-fic mood rn (pls send me thoughts/requests/recs)

"I'm gonna kick your asses," Lando said to Y/N and Oscar as they approached the first hole.

F1 drivers were insanely competitive, both on and off the track. Y/N should have realised they were going to all be in competition together when she suggested crazy golf to blow off some steam.

It was a sunny day, a seaside town. The crazy golf place had way too many different themes, from animal safari to pirates cove and the Jurassic age. There were at least twenty five holes, all of them spiralling out away from a bar that sat in the middle. This was shaping up to be a fun day.

Oscar went first, since it was his rookie season. It had taken Y/N a hot minute to convince Lando to let him go first. The golfer was buzzing - Y/N had to wrap her arm around his waist to keep him there.

The first hole was in the animal safari part of the course. It was incredibly simple, with it being the first hole and all. There were no obstacles, just a couple of plastic lions to the side.

Oscar was no golfer. Lando watched in pain as he missed the hole again, and again, and again. It should have been an easy whole in one (at least for Lando).

"Oh, Osc," Y/N laughed at she wrote a five on the score card. "Baby, that was..."

"Shut up," he groaned as he strode back over, letting an impatient Lando began his turn. "I don't spend my my spare time golfing, like you nerds."

Y/N snorted as she wrote down Lando's very low score. "We're not nerds, Oscar. We're civilised."

It was Landos turn to snort. "Sure we are, cupcake." He smacked her ass as she walked up to the hole, taking the score card from her hands.

Y/N did it in two easy shots and the three moved onto the next hole. For this one, you had to hit it through a snakes mouth for it to come out in the ideal place.

Again, Oscar went first. Again, Oscar did terribly. The Aussie was was visibly tense as he walked back over to his partners.

As Lando took his go, Y/N pit her things down and placed her hands on Oscars broad shoulders. "Baby, relax," she said as she rubbed. "You're all stiff and locked up. You need to be loosey goosey, baby. Loosey goosey."

Loosey goosey. Oscar could do loosey goosey. He watched Y/N (there was no point watching Lando, who took golf way too seriously. He played much more than Y/N and, when they played together, they didn't get much golf done). He watched as she played down her pink golf ball and swung.

Her ball went straight through the snake and out the other side, appearing just beside the hole. When Oscar had tried he'd hit the side of the opening several times before giving up and hitting around it.

For the next few holes, Oscar was still trying to get into the swing of things. He was doing better, definitely, but he was still oh so many points behind Y/N and Lando.

"Drinks?" Lando suggested as they finished the safari section of the golf course.

He left Y/N and Oscar as the first of the jurassic holes as he went to get them drinks. Only beer that'll last them most of the course. When he walked back over Y/N had her hands wrapped around Oscar, helping him to putt. It was an adorable site, one Lando couldn't take his eyes off of.

Not only adorable. It was funny, too. Lando was taller and broader than Y/N, who was having a hard time wrapping her arms around him.

"We're not telling Lando about this, right?" He asked as he watched his ball roll into the hole.

"Of course not," Y/N replied and she reached up to kiss him.

Lando stood back for a moment, letting them have their moment. As Oscar pulled away from her he stepped forward, placing the drinks on a barrel beside the hole. "You two having fun?" He asked as he set himself up to take his shot.

"Yep," Y/N answered, her voice a higher pitch than usual. "Yep, did it in three shots as well. All on his own."

Oscars elbow hit Y/Ns arm, giving her a soft jab to tell her to shut up. But, when Lando laughed, he realised he knew. Lando knew what they had done. And he wasn't saying anything.

As Y/N took her go, Lando wrapped his arms around Oscar. Even with their height difference, Lando was always stood behind Oscar, holding him that way. The boys watched as Y/N hit the golf ball towards the hole.

The three of them drank their beers as they moved from hole to hole. When they moved from the jurassic section to the pirate seconds, Y/N let Oscar carry her golf club as she jumped on Landos back. "Thanks, Lan," she said and kissed his cheek as he walked.

When Lando put her down, he demanded a proper one, not just one on the cheek. And then he insisted she give Oscar a kiss for good luck.

Towards the last four holes, the competition got fierce. There was cheating involved, Lando using his foot to block their balls and Y/N hitting their balls into the shallow water that surrounded the holes.

The day was a day full of joy and laughter. There was a point where Oscar wrapped his arms around Y/N and lifted her up just before she took her shot.

"And our loser is," Y/N began as soon as they had finished the last hole and given back their clubs. "Oscar Piastri!" She called and clapped.

"Well done, Osc," said Lando as he kissed the side of his head.

"Yeah, yeah," Oscar muttered as he turned his head to kiss him properly.

Y/N cleared her throat, regaining the boys attention as she read out the next score. "In second place we have me," she said as the strode forward to give her a kiss on each cheek. And then she got a proper kiss from each of them.

"And the winner is Lando! But, seriously, did we expect any difference."

"No," Lando said as he grinned. He two got kissed by his boyfriend and his girlfriend. To celebrate properly, the day was filled with whatever Lando wanted to do. Which meant more golf, a nice dinner and a night in the bedroom, without much sleeping.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi!!!! could you do polymarauders reacting to reader getting a tattoo (or multiple!) dedicated them? love u!!! 🧁

Thank you for requesting, lovely! gn!reader x poly!marauders.

cw: tattoo, swearing, Sirius being himself

681 words

You knew the secret was out when you had flinched away from James. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just didn’t know. When his hand found its usual spot on your ribs as you were laying down on the couch with him, you couldn’t hide the discomfort you were feeling as his hand pressed into the tender flesh. James, of course, had no clue. 

“What’s that for, baby?” He looked a mix of concerned and amused. “Did that tickle?” He turned mischievous as he tried to worm his fingers into your side again. Remus flit his eyes to you both, stifling chuckle. You hissed, squirming away from your boyfriend's hands, no matter how gentle they were. 

“Ouch, Jamie.” You said before you could stop yourself. This made Remus drop his book. 

“What hurts, lovie?” His eyebrows rumpled, leaning closer to you and James. 

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You said, looking panicked. It seemed like Sirius could smell the trouble, because he stood up from where he sat at Remus’ feet, crawling over to you like a cat. 

“You hissed when Jamie touched you here, dolly.” He wriggled his fingers over your side, looking surprised when your shirt moved oddly slickly over your skin. You tried to bat his hands away, but he didn’t move. 

“Siri! Get away.” You tried to seem unsuspicious, but you mostly gave up on the act. 

“What’ve you got under here?” Sirius waggled his dark eyebrows at you, pulling your shirt up until your whole torso was exposed. You almost felt bashful at the realization that your whole chest was pretty much exposed, but they weren’t looking at it. Instead, they all looked varying levels of surprised. Remus moved faster than you’d ever seen him, crouching at your side next to Sirius. But it was James who spoke first. 

“Sweetheart! When did you get that?” He kept looking between your face and your ribs. Underneath the plastic cover was a small tattoo over your ribs. Lined up was little drawing of a moon, star and sun. 

“Well it was gon’ be a surprise.” You playfully scolded. “But I got it a week ago. It’s… it’s for you three.” You turned shy on the spot. You thought you would’ve had more time to get over the sliver of anxiety you felt. You had all been together for a long time, you all loved each other very much, you were all each other’s emergency contact even! But this was a big step, permanently marking them on your body. 

Sirius gently thumbed the skin next to the tattoo, looking in awe at your rib and leaning down to kiss over the plastic cover, being featherlight to not irritate you further. He knew from experience it was probably still sore. “I fucking love it.” He whispered against your skin. 

“Lemme see better.” Remus (gently) shoved Sirius out of the way, making him squawk offendedly. Remus didn’t care though, he looked entranced. James squeezed you tighter to him. 

“I can’t believe you did this and didn’t tell us! We would’ve gone with you, baby.” He trapped you in a kiss before you could respond, rubbing his thumb over your jaw gently. Sirius snickered at your dazed look when he pulled away. 

“Like I said,” trying to push away your flustered state. “It was a surprise.”

“Hell of a surprise.” Remus had nuzzled into your waist. “I’m gonna need one too.”

“Ooh, I like that.” James said at the same time that Sirius whistled.

“Oh yes fucking please.” He dramatically fanned himself. “You too Prongs,” He licked his lips looking at your boyfriend. James didn’t know whether to feel objectified or very flattered. (As how Sirius usually left people feeling). 

“I should, now that I’m the only un-inked one in this relationship.” He playfully jostled you. “You’ve abandoned me, lovely.”

“Don’t worry, honey.” You kissed his cheek. “I’ll pull you to the darkside with me.”

“Oooh, you minx. Thankfully I’d let you three corrupt me any day.” None of you would complain about that.

[kaciidubs]

hey kacii boo 💞 i have a request if that’s okay?

hear me out ☝️

a/b/o OT8 skz x omega reader and reader finds out she is pregnant? the boys start noticing her acting different and she accidentally leaves a pregnancy test on the counter, causing the boys to see. When she gets home, the boys sit her down and talk to her about it ending in group cuddles from the boys 🫶🏻

I'm in love with this, truly! ❣ Word Count: 1.9k [I did not mean to type that much] ❣ Warnings: A/B/O Poly! SKZ x Omega! Reader, pregnancy, angst if you squint, mention of birth control, fluff, comfort ❣ Additional Tags: Mentions of Chris being an alpha, Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin being omegas as the only specific pack roles, no clear mated pairings within the pack but it's sort of Chris x Reader centered toward the end

It would begin with the most intuitive of the pack members noticing your extremely slight deviation from your usual routines - Felix.

He was a fellow omega, like Jisung and Hyunjin, but he was the most aware of everyone's trends and habits; which meant it was immediately apparent to him that something was wrong when you start doing small things like wearing pajama pants around the house as opposed to your favorite, work out pajama shorts.

Eventually, the small things he noticed began to grow into big things that the rest of his pack mates would catch onto, such as the way you turned away your favorite snacks when Changbin offered them, or the way you couldn't seem to stand the smell of Seungmin's shampoo though you spent countless nights washing his hair with the same product before. There was even one night where you snapped at Jeongin when he tried cuddling up to you when you least expected it, then immediately started crying because you felt bad.

Since that night you'd resorted to staying in the "guest room", which was simply a spare room for anyone who needed their own space for some time - which was highly disliked by each of your pack mates, but they wouldn't take away your decision.

One day, when you were out running a few errands, Minho was the brave soul who would venture into your temporary room to do a bathroom sweep to clean and take out any trash. What he didn't expect, however, was the waft of an overly sweet scent overwhelming his senses the second he opened the door - nor was he expecting to stumble across a plastic pregnancy test on the counter.

When you walked through the front door, reusable bags in hand, you were met with eight pairs of eyes staring at you, freezing you in place as you stared back with worried confusion.

"Um... Hi?"

The mix of scents usually eased you, but with the thick layer of anticipation and worry threaded throughout, you weren't sure what to expect.

"Kitten, can you come sit with us for a minute?" Minho offered softly as Changbin was the first to stand, walking over to take the bags from your hands and bring them to the kitchen for the time being.

Left with no other choice, you walked into the living room and sat in the empty space between Felix and Hyunjin; Jisung sliding onto the floor to rest against your leg while Jeongin and Seungmin settled against the opposite, before Changbin filled the space behind Hyunjin while Minho remained next to Felix.

Easing into the comfortable, impromptu cuddle puddle, you figured the impending discussion was going to be simple until Chris stood before the group - directly in front of you.

"Love... You know you can tell us anything, right?"

You bristled at his cautious tone, though the feeling of Hyunjin's hand grazing against your own eased your guard. "I know I can - what's this about?"

"You've been acting different lately, and at first we just thought it was because of a period, or a new symptom of your heat coming up, but then you started avoiding food and smells, and isolating yourself from us." Chris tried his best to keep his tone level, to keep the authority that swelled within him at a tolerable value, but his unwavering gaze showed all of his emotions. "Then Minho found this-" reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the same device that had thrown you into a panicked fit, so much so that you had to leave the house for a sudden errand run, "-and it all started to make sense. Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant, love?"

A pang of shame shot through your heart like an arrow, and judging by the disheartened whines from the boys immediately around you, they already felt the shift within you.

"We aren't upset, Jagi," Jisung pouted up at you as he nudged your thigh with his nose, round eyes filled with love.

Hyunjin nodded against your shoulder, bringing your hand up to press a soft kiss to the back, "We're just worried about you, muse."

A shivering breath rattled through you as you blinked back hot tears, looking up at the eldest, the head alpha among your unlikely pack.

"C-Chris, I- I don't-" You sniffled, cursing the tremble in your voice, "I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, I swear - I knew something was different but I didn't want to assume anything until I took the test last night and-" Biting back a sob, you felt a soft touch against your cheek - Minho's hand wiping away a stray tear. "I just... I didn't know how to say it so I went out to clear my head and figure out the words to say to you - to everyone because I- I'm not sure who got me pregnant! I didn't even skip my birth control, for fucks sake!"

This wasn't planned - despite a few discussions here and there about the potential idea of introducing pups in the future, none of you had done the true mating bond to solidify who would be the one to directly grow the pack with you, and the stress of it all had pushed you to isolation without you even realizing until you'd moved yourself to the guest room.

"Bunny, please take a breath for us." Changbin pleaded, leaning over so you could have a clear view of his comforting gaze, "You know none of us would be any type of hurt over who's pup you're carrying, not when it's the miracle of you being the one bearing them. It doesn't matter who did it, we'll figure that out when the time comes, all that matters is you being healthy and cared for - no more isolating."

"Bin's right," Chris piped up once more, drawing all attention to him with ease, "all we want to do is make sure you're okay - no matter how sudden this is, I don't think any of us weren't aware of something like this potentially happening. None of this is anyone's fault, none of ours and none of yours, you hear me?"

Nodding softly, you smiled at the subtle sensation of Seungmin squeezing your calf in a hug of sorts while Jeongin nuzzled against your thigh.

Minho cleared his throat softly, leaning forward to take your free hand within his, "I... I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, Kitten - I would never look through your things without you knowing, and I'm sorry for not going to you first."

You squeezed his hand, looking at him with warm, glimmering eyes, "It's okay, Min, I know you meant well - I'm not mad at you at all. Honestly, it would've only been a matter of time until someone clocked it was pregnancy, anyways."

"You do have a new smell, Pup." Seungmin muttered from the floor, Jeongin nodding alongside him.

"Felix thought you were falling out of the pack - Chan had to talk him off the ledge," Jisung laughed, earning a few chuckles from Changbin and Hyunjin at the recollection of the memory.

The blond whined, lips pursed into a pout, "I was worried we did something wrong! I'm sorry I'm the only one who thinks of these things!"

Cooing, you nudged the side of your head against his, "It's okay, Lixie, there's no way I'd ever think of leaving any of you, you guys are my home."

He hummed softly, and you could feel the cuddle puddle slowly begin to set in but there was one final thing missing before you could truly feel at ease with the situation.

Untangling yourself from the tangle of bodies and arms, you made your way toward the eldest who was watching the scene with warm eyes and a soft smile - something he'd taken a liking to doing when he thought he wasn't being watched.

Without a moment to spare, you wrapped your arms around his middle, melting into the familiar mahogany and coconut scent as his arms wrapped around you in kind, securing you in a natural protective hold.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Channie." You murmured into his chest before leaning back to look at him, "And I'm sorry for not saying anything when I first felt off, I genuinely didn't think it could've been this."

"You don't have to apologize, baby, you were only doing what you felt was right at the time." Pausing for a moment, he studied your face slowly, "I know this whole conversation was a lot to throw at you so soon, but I just want to make sure... Are you okay with this? Do you want to have a baby right now?"

You nodded before he could even fully finish his second question, "I'm sure - I know I was scared on how to say it, but I never felt scared about not being able to take care of this baby, not when I have the world's most amazing pack to raise it in."

It was the truth, there wasn't a single doubt within you that made you believe that having a pup would be difficult in the pack - it was a possibility, a thought that had been floated around enough to start considering the full mating process, and now was the time to turn that thought into a processing reality.

A deep rumble vibrated through Chris's chest and he ducked his head in an attempt to hide away from the blush that had already consumed his ears, the sound making you melt against his body and draw the attention of the seven boys watching from their seats.

"Someone's happy to be a dad," Hyunjin teased with a grin, earning a scoff from Minho.

"Who says it's him?"

"I'm just saying it cause of his reaction! Technically we're all dads until she gets a scent tie, so why can't I place my bet now?"

Jisung groaned, "Placing bets on a baby is so inhumane... I bet it's Changbin's."

"What?! Why is my name in this now? What if it's Jeongin's?"

The youngest made a sound that could only be best described as confused shock as his head shot up to look at the man, "Listen, I'd be honored, but I can say for a fact it wasn't me! I'm too young to be a father!"

"That's not what you were saying when-"

Chris cleared his throat with a pointed look, "Okay, how about we not have this debate and go cuddle and think about dinner, yeah?"

With that, the mini crowd dispersed in a jumble of comments, heading down the hall toward his room since - in an ironic retrospect - that's where the biggest bed was put.

As the living room grew quieter, he looked at you with warm eyes, "I have a feeling it's mine."

You laughed in shock, hitting his chest lightly, "What happened to 'let's not have this debate', Mr. Bang?"

"It's not a debate! It's just a... speculation, a theory, if you will." He murmured softly, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a quick kiss. "Now come on, the last time that combination went into my room, they turned my bed into a wrestling ring and I just found a replacement for my lamp online."

Letting him lead you down the hall, a soft smile settled onto your lips as your free hand came to subconsciously rest over your stomach - the pride of the new life growing within you and the one changing before your eyes filling you with a new sense of optimism and anticipation.

[unedited]

[rougecreator1]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[meangirls-imagines]

DISCORD SERVER (18+)

Please be aware that I did make the server 18+ since we will be talking about sex related things and as feral as @yungpoetfics and I are, it gets DIRTY.

This link will expire in a week!

[britany1997]

Hi! I saw that requests were open, and I was hoping I could requests Poly!Lost boys (or/and with Michael if you can!) with a reader who’s owns a bakery? The boys take notice of a new shop on the boardwalk and peek in to see you.

(Reader is GN, and likes to dress cutesy as well!)

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie…

AHHHHH Michael my love🥺 yes of course I can write this for you💕💕 hope you like it!

Poly! Lost boys & Michael x GN cutesy Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A bundle of black leather flashed down the boardwalk as Paul zoomed around. Marko was on his heels, laughing and trailing after him, “I told you we should have put him on one of those animal backpack leashes,” Marko called back at Dwayne as Dwayne followed the two blonds.

“If he doesn’t behave he’ll find himself on a different kind of leash.” Dwayne warned.

“Ooh Paul, hear that? you’re in trouble,” Marko singsonged.

“Yeah jokes on you Dwayne, I like that shit!” Paul yelled back as he ran.

Dwayne groaned.

David smirked as he watched Dwayne attempt to control the chaos twins on his own. David much preferred to hang back, his hand possessively wrapped around Michael’s neck as the two strolled along the boardwalk.

“Stay close pet, don’t want you running off like those two,” David cooed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and slithered out of David’s grip, “I’m not a child David, I think I can manage myself on the boardwalk,” he paused, “and I’m not your pet either.”

David chuckled to himself, “whatever you wanna tell yourself love,” he said as he slid his arm around Michael’s waist, pulling him against his side.

He leaned in to whisper in Michael’s ear, “but I know you don’t mind what I call you when we’re at home. Maybe you’re just a house pet huh baby?”

Michael shivered as he felt his cheeks flush pink

“Stop it,” he whispered back nervously.

David pouted in reply, “thought you liked it when i played with you pretty boy.”

Michael’s blush deepened, “can’t you keep it in your pants till we get home?”

David smirked, “what can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Michael smiled softly as David leaned in.

“HEY GUYS,” Paul’s booming voice broke the pair away from their sweet moment.

“This better be good,” David grumbled.

Paul tapped his foot as he waited for the others to catch up.

Marko and Dwayne slowed to a stop in front of the blond boy, David and Michael not far behind. They looked curiously as Paul gestured to a little white shop they’d never seen before.

As the other four boys took in the sight, Paul pressed his face up against the giant window at the front of the store. He admired the pretty cakes, beautifully frosted and decorated with plastic floral arrangements. He drooled over the warm brownies wrapped in cellophane and tied with pink bows. But his eyes widened when he caught sight of the rows and rows of cookies displayed in a tray behind the glass. He’d swear he could already taste them.

He turned back to his boyfriends, “please, please, please can we go in and get something? I’ve been so good lately!” he begged.

Dwayne scoffed, “no you haven’t.”

Paul dropped to his knees and inched towards Dwayne, his hands clasped together, “please please please please,” Paul chanted, giving Dwayne his best puppy dog eyes, those always seemed to make him cave.

Dwayne sighed as Marko bit his thumb to keep from laughing. “David, what do you think? We got time before morning?”

David checked his watch, his arm still around Michael’s waist, “yeah we got time.”

“Yes!” Paul whisper-cheered to himself.

“Not so fast blondie,” David raised an eyebrow, “you got bakery money?”

Paul’s demeanor deflated as he looked through his shoe and cringed. “Michael?” he asked sweetly.

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, “yes Paul?”

Paul pouted at Michael, jutting his bottom lip out and furrowing his brows.

Michael laughed, “ok fine,” he walked over to hand Paul a five dollar bill.

Paul sprang up and wrapped his arms around Michael, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

“I love you Michael!” Paul exclaimed as he pulled away.

Michael smiled and blushed, “I love you too Paul.”

Paul smiled and skipped into the store, Michael’s five dollars in hand, while David crossed his arms and grumbled.

Dwayne bumped David with his elbow as Marko and Michael slipped through the door. “C’mon, they need constant supervision,” he reminded David.

“Been tryna kiss him all night but nooo crazy blond shakes him down and he gets a smooch. Bullshit.” David mumbled under his breath as he followed Dwayne inside.

As David passed through the doorway his jaw dropped.

Michael, Marko, and Paul were already crowded around the counter talking to the most attractive human he’d ever seen (besides Michael of course).

You were wearing the palest pink uniform, and the brightest smile. He found himself absolutely transfixed.

As he approached his circle of boyfriends, he heard Paul’s persistent flirting.

“All these snacks baby but you gotta be the sweetest thing in here,” Paul winked, leaning over the counter.

You blushed, “that’s so kind of you to say, can I get you anything?”

“Yeah honey, give me three sugar cookies, I’m not real liquid right now…” he said as he hid the fiver in his back pocket, “you take kisses?”

You smirked and laughed, “I take money.”

He mock-pouted, “that’s ok sugar, I was gonna give ‘em to you for free anyway.”

Paul leaned in, but was caught by the back of the collar by Michael. “Sorry about him,” he said blushing.

Michael swiped the money from Paul’s back pocket and handed it to you, “for the sugar cookies,” he said, flustered.

“I’ll bring them right out,” you smiled.

Michael sighed wistfully as he watched you turn to grab the cookies from the back.

“What the hell man?” Paul asked, “I was about to seal the deal!”

“Paul,” Dwayne interjected, “what did we say about kissing strangers?”

“It’s fun?” Paul guessed.

“Don’t do it.” Dwayne and Michael corrected at the same time.

Paul pouted.

You pushed past the double doors, your arms filled with sweets.

“You all are the first customers I’ve had since I opened so I threw in a couple extra things,” you blushed.

You handed Paul the three sugar cookies, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek.

He flashed you a dopey smile as his hand flew to his cheek. “I’ll never wash this cheek again,” he sighed.

You giggled, “I sure hope that’s not true, you’d think you’d wanna keep a pretty face like that clean.”

It was taking all of Paul’s self-control not to jump over the counter and shower you with sloppy wet kisses.

You turned to Marko handing him a Sfogliatella. His eyes widened in shock, “I love Sfogliatella! I haven’t been able to find them anywhere,” he told you.

“My grandma’s recipe,” you smiled, “I love them too, I haven’t really seen ‘em anywhere in the U.S., so why not make them myself.”

Marko melted.

You looked at Dwayne, placing a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “Dark chocolate chips instead of milk chocolate,” you told him.

“For a richer flavor?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Exactly!” you beamed, “thought you’d like it.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, “thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

You moved to Michael and offered him a big, gooey, brownie.

He blushed as he took it from your outstretched hands, “these are my favorite, how’d you know?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

You shrugged, “call it baker’s intuition, you strike me as a brownie guy.”

He blushed, “talk about a sixth sense,” he mumbled, “you really are the sweetest thing in here.”

Your face flushed at his words as Paul grumbled that Michael had ‘stolen his line.’

David cleared his throat, “nothin for me love?” he raked his eyes over your form.

You laughed, “you just didn’t strike me as a sweets guy,” you clarified as you poured him a cup of coffee.

When you finished, you offered him the styrofoam cup, which he took from your gratefully.

“Clever little thing aren’t you?” he flirted.

“I like to think so,” you winked.

David’s smile spread across his whole face, “well if you aren’t the cutest thing…” he trailed off as he leaned on the counter.

Dwayne cleared his throat, prompting David to check his watch. Shit. Sunrise was coming.

He frowned, “gotta get goin’ sweet but we’ll be back,” he promised, winking.

You bit your lip, “I hope so, I’m here every night.”

You blushed as each boy reluctantly pulled themselves away and strolled out the door.

You couldn’t help but think moving your business to Santa Carla was the smartest decision you’d ever made.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@consuming-karma @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @bloodywickedvamp @pixielostboy @gothamslostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @warrior-616 @anna1306 @riz-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

[lizthewriter]

i'll take care of you, that's true / poly!billy loomis & stu macher

PAIRING  billy loomis x stu macher x fem!reader

SUMMARY  it's been plainly obvious to your group of friends (and probably everyone in the entire school at this point) that you, stu, and billy harbored a heaping amount of feelings towards one another. see, the problem was that while billy and stu were completely aware of their feelings for each other and for you, you had made no efforts to be as obvious with your feelings as they did. stu was always launching some flirty line at you that made your heart stumble and insisted on paying for anything you wanted when you went out - billy offered to carry your book bag from class to class and you always caught him staring at you with this hungry look in his eye. you hadn't expected to spill your feelings towards them in the oddest way - when your depression claws it's way back from the dead.

TAGS  billy loomis x stu macher x fem!reader, fluff, angst, no hurt just comfort, happy ending, idiots in love, soft!romantic!stu, billy is a lil' inexperienced with those things called emotions, but we ball, reader is quite feminine, reader loves pink, reader has depression, no ghostface we die like men, implied stalking

QUOTE  "stand beside it, we can't hide the way you make us glow . . . i'd take care of you if you asked me to," - take care by beach house

WORD COUNT  1.5K

WRITTEN  10.25.2023

Stu thought back to the previous morning - you had walked into school in one of those cute pink numbers of yours that he knew Billy secretly loved. He watched you approach your locker from across the hall and open the door. Hoping to suprise you, he snuck up and hid behind the door, waiting for the inevitable moment when you would slam the door close and jump in suprise at his sudden appearance. It happened exactly as Stu predicted - you placed one last book in your locker and closed it shut, suddenly jolting when you noticed Stu, and clutching your heart through your chest.

"Geez, Stu, you scared the crap out of me," you said breathlessly, your mind on a heightened alert from the adrenaline of the jump scare. You noticed he was holding something behind his back and furrowed your brows, a questioning smile spreading across your face. "What's that?"

"Suprise!" Stu exclaimed loudly, revealing what he was hiding behind his back. You ignored the stares from your other classmates in the hall and bit back a grin as you graciously received his gift. Filled iside a plastic box were shortbread cookies filled with strawberry jam, powdered sugar covering the top.

"Aw Stu, you really shouldn't have," you said, unable to stop the flush from rushing to your cheeks. "Thank you, these look amazing! How did you know I liked shortbread?"

Stu shrugged as though he just happened to select the right cookies. But really, he had seen you buy something similar when he followed you out into town once. He also knew of many other foods you were paticularly fond of, which lead you to joke around that he had some sort of superpower, always knowing what food you liked. "Dunno, just reminded me of you, babe."

-

This morning, however, a very different aura surrounded you. You came in wearing one of your usual outfits, offering what seemed to be sweet smiles to classmates who greeted you in passing. But something was utterly wrong and Stu could definitely sense it.

This morning, he stood by Billy's locker, which was a little down the hall from yours. Stu had been so preoccupied in his own thoughts about you, wondering what was wrong and how he could fix it, that he hadn't been paying attention to Billy. He felt someone rap him sharply on the head and let out a yelp, turning to face Billy.

"Hey, that hurt, man!" He exclaimed, rubbing the back of his now stinging head.

"Well don't ignore me next time." Billy slammed close his locker and glanced back towards Stu. Curious about what had his friend so preoccupied, he followed Stu's line of sight to you. The edge of his lips curled up slightly. "Oh, I see what it is. That pretty little minx has you all wrapped around her finger, huh?"

"No - well, that too, but something's wrong with her," Stu said, worry etched into his expression. He watched as you slowly filled your locker with textbooks, your arms shaking weakly.

"Are you sure? I mean, now that you say that, she does look a little . . . pale." Billy went silent as the both of them watched you, mentally debating what to do. "I'm not really good at all that 'emotions' stuff. I think it would be better if you talked to her."

"All right, but at least come with me." Billy huffed, pretending as though it was all an inconvenience, but immediately followed Stu as he cautiously approached you. Today, there was no jumpscare when you closed the door to your locker. You offered yet another fake smile to the boys, but Stu couldn't help but notice the bags under your eyes.

"Hey boys," you said. "Look, I have a class soon, so I really think I should -"

"Are you okay?" Stu asked softly, bringing a hand up to caress against your cheek gently. You cringed away from him, causing a pang of hurt to echo through his heart.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You couldn't meet his eyes anymore, much more focused on your feet now. What were you supposed to tell him? That you cried yourself to sleep last night? That there was some sort of gaping hole in your chest? And you couldn't even figure out why it was there? That, what, you barely enjoyed any of your old hobbies, that everyday chores were beginning to turn into difficult tasks?

"Please, Stu, just -"

"Don't push us away." Both of you glanced towards Billy - the two of you were surprised to hear him speak. "We just care about your well-being, that's all."

"Yeah, come on, just talk to us? We just want to help you, make you feel better."

You bit your bottom lip and the gears in your head turned - the boys could see the internal debate going on in your head. You grabbed both of their wrists, leading them to a nearby janitor's closet. Although it was only a few steps away, it felt like forever walking there, especially when you felt as though you were about to cry again.

Billy shut the door behind both of you, causing you to dissolve into a blubbering mess as soon as he did so. "I feel - so terrible all the time and . . . don't know why - can't talk to anyone." Your words were interrupted by sniffles, hiccups, and sobs.

"Babe . . ." Stu said with a frown, sitting you down on the janitor's small desk chair. Your gaze was directed towards the ground, so he got on both knees just so you would meet his eyes. "It's okay. I get like that too sometimes . . ."

"You . . . do?" Even Billy tilted his head, glancing towards Stu with an arched brow. Funnily enough, in their relationship, Billy had always been the one to talk about their problems, but never Stu.

"That's right babe. And most of the time I don't get it either - I just get sad and hopeless. And sometimes nothing can make it better. But I feel less shitty when I'm with my friends." He grabbed both of your hands and held them in his own, offering you a kind smile. "Hm? You can talk to us, pretty."

All your thoughts came out faster than intended and soon enough you were ranting quite vivaciously to the two of them, who both listened patiently and waited for you to finish before saying anything. You felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of your chest with each and every word that spilled from your lips. You wanted to say more, to get it all out. Suddenly, one paticularly heavy secret came to mind and you found guilt seeping through every vein in your body. You glanced between the two boys with trepidation. While Atu was watching you in admiration and understanding, Billy seemed lost in his own world, almost like he was in longing.

You had to admit that you were attracted to both of them, something that made you feel incredibly guilty. They were both your friends and you always felt as though you were hurting the other when you were paying paticular attention to only one of them.

"What is it, baby? Is there something else you want to get off your chest?" Stu asked.

You withdrew your hands from him, causing him to furrow his brows. "Well . . . there's something I need to tell the both of you. I owe it to you, to tell you . . . So, uh . . ." Your voice trailed off as you met Stu's puppy eyes once again. "I like you, both of you."

Stu grinned. "We like you too!"

You shook your head, standing up. Stu rose from the floor with you, a confused grin on his face. "No, you don't get it. I like like both of you and it's obvious the two of you feel the same way, but . . . I don't want to have to choose."

"No, I don't think you're getting it," Billy said, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against and approaching you. "We like you too. We want you."

Stu grabbed your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Don't you see, we both love ya!" He exclaimed excitedly. A small bit of hope leaked into your expression and you looked up at them with those adorable, innocent eyes that had the both of them reeling.

"Really?"

"Really," said Billy.

"We'll always be here for you -" Stu boomed your nose, wrinkling his with affection. "- whenever and however you need us. So . . . let's play hooky! The two of us will take you out and we'll have a blast! Turn that frown upside down! What do you say?"

You bit back a shy smile and nodded. "That actually sounds . . . really nice."

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')

A Good Father

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost is anxious about being a father.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble

Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^

Masterlist

It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.

It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.

He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.

When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.

There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.

At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...

...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.

A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...

Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?

Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.

But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.

The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.

It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.

Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...

Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.

You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.

Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.

It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.

"Do you think I'd make a good father?"

The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.

"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"

He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."

"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."

Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"

"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"

You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.

"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"

Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.

"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.

"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."

"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."

"The news?"

"Your first step into motherhood."

You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"

"I found the pregnancy test."

You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"

The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."

You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.

"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...

"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"

"...Wha'?"

"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."

Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"

"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."

No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.

It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.

"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."

You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.

"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."

You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.

"You'd make a beautiful mother."

"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."

Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.

"We're not getting any younger."

(╹◡◠)

[kedsandtubesocks]

cowboys like us

Bull Rider!Din Djarin x F!Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

summary: one cowboy is already a challenge, but two is either going to be your best blessing or worst curse

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern rodeo cowboys AU, Din is still a papa and has his baby, light discussion of the rodeo and events, light angst & miscommunication with eventual resolution, Jack & his sweet talk with calling reader ‘baby, honey, sugar,” bar scene with moments of drinking, heavy making out, intense grinding & dry humping, spicy moments, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship

word count: 5.9k

a/n: welcome to the first fic of the ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series! I know, I know, this is such a strange combo & AU but I’m such a sucker for cowboy Din and of course Jack decided to barge in and here we are lol, the biggest and deepest thank you’s go to @perotovar @lowlights @nothoughtsjustmeds & @beskarandblasters - this wouldn’t be here without y’all and I’m so eternally grateful…and to you if you’re reading this thank you so much

You wonder if maybe you’ve unknowingly slipped into a strange country song and not realized it.

Popcorn litters the floor all around. The plastic arena seat is a bit uncomfortable. A drunk woman behind you almost spilled beer on you but apologized profusely. There are more cowboy hats here than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

But as you sit in this strange existence a voice over the loudspeaker comes and sparks up your soul. As the announcer’s voice booms, loud screams swallow up the air of the stadium.

You spot him already climbing onto the bronco and your heart jumps into your throat.

“The man smooth as whiskey!” The announcer screams clear and booming with an accented southern pride.

“Give it up for Jack Daniels!”

Shrill shrieks erupt fanatically loud as if the place now morphes into a boy band concert instead of a rodeo competition.

That is until the alarm sounds. The chute opens, and the ride begins.

Focusing on Jack is chaotic. The bronco bucks frenzied trying to throw the cowboy off with a wild strength. His black Stetson hat goes flying and your stomach drops at how rapidly his body whips around. Back and forth, back and forth, he tries holding on with simply one hand.

It’s terrifying. It’s hypnotic.

Then it’s over fast.

The beautiful horse flings off Jack and he lands on the dirt. You clutch the edge of your plastic seat. The horse continues bucking and your mind rushes to the worst case scenario of the creature’s strong might rearing down on Jack.

Then the cowboy springs up like nothing.

A smile even illuminates his handsome face and it ignites the crowd into a gleeful roar.

You don’t even know if he did good. You barely understand the point system or average or whatever it is.

The horse thankfully settles and Jack struts away effortless.

Suddenly Jack’s salt of the earth eyes flick up. He scans the crowd until his gaze lands on you.

The seat you’re in sits close to the edge of the arena, on the floor just right outside the ring.

Then, with all the confidence of a man whose job it is to ride a bucking bronco, Jack blows you a kiss.

The drunk woman behind you along with her friends scream their heads off thinking he blew the kiss to them. Maybe he did. He’s a damn flirt. You even glance backward to see one of the girls, very drunk, tries to calm herself down from freaking out.

Jack now walks heads to the side to exit. His eyes however stay glued to you. And the minute you turn back to stare at him…he winks.

Then he vanishes.

This cowboy might be this event’s closer, but this isn’t the end of the rodeo for you. The incoming bull rides shift the air. It’s considered another heavy hitter main event and the anticipation bubbles.

Unlike Jack, who arrives like a firecracker ready to brighten up any room he enters, this cowboy emerges like a shadow.

Keeping his head down, it doesn’t help that a protective mask covers his handsome face. However, the energy radiating off the cowboy’s deadly focus composure is like a quiet storm on the horizon.

He stays silent, doesn’t even lift his eyes up, almost in a focused trance.

“Mr. Silent and Deadly himself… Din Djarin!” The announcers boom out his name.

Then you watch as the man becomes a myth, one who tames a wild force of nature.

Din and bull fly out of the chute with a choking force.

In the same way your breath stopped watching Jack getting bucked around, the same dizzying panic fills you as Din battles the same force.

He stubbornly stays on, rides as the bull thrashes around. You wonder if this is where some mythologies stem from because it is something unreal watching this man move with this powerful creature.

The crowd hoots and hollers cheering Din on. You stay petrified in your seat.

Then the ride finishes fast.

Din flies off the bull and your breathing stops. Rapidly the trainers along with other cowboys scramble to settle the bull and check on Din. The bull rider casually rises up unbothered, unshaken, and the crowd goes wild.

You exhale a loud shaken sigh of relief. Your body feels like jello, as if fear has finally been exorcized from your body leaving you a boneless mess.

Suddenly Din rips the guard mask off and all attention falls to him. Sweat adds a shine to his face and his hair is a tousled mess but he’s never looked more gorgeous.

“What the fuck?! Dude, he’s hot too?!” Someone squawks out.

The ladies sitting behind you of course notice Din and squeal out feverishly. Unlike Jack, an actual peacock who owns the crowd basking in the attention, Din’s face stays lowered with his eyes averted shyly.

Until his dark eyes suddenly flicker up, like a viper peering out from a cave. His eyes find you surprisingly fast.

You and him simply stare at each other. Then so quickly Din averts his eyes away again and heads off.

The shakiest exhale leaves you.

Your heartbeat drums loud in your ears as if you were the one who just finished the wild rides. And maybe you did in your own way.

“Oh my fucking god!” Behind you one of the girls screams. “So many hot cowboys! Like, how the fuck do you pick just one?!”

Alcohol drenches her playful words. However, to you they become barbed and catch on your heart. Because how do you pick between two handsome cowboys different as day and night.

“Babe!” One of the girls giggles. “That’s the secret, you don’t pick just one! You have ‘em all!”

She howls a wild laugh and the others scream scandalized but gleeful. One of them even jokingly says ‘so you gotta catch ‘em all like pokemon!’ which almost makes you laugh.

But the words hang in your heart like a rusting anchor.

Grabbing your bag, you head out. Arriving at the backstage area of the arena, you flash the visitor’s access pass to security who lets you through. You’ve only done this a few times before but your heart still races getting this type of entrance.

Earlier today Din said he’d wait for you after in the small rest waiting room. When you open the door, you stumble upon a sight.

Jack's hand firmly holding Din’s face -

As the two men passionately kiss each other.

Jack’s taller than Din, slightly, not by much. Din’s build however is firmer, solid, compared to Jack’s sleek stature.

Immediately they both break away from each other as if electrocuted.

Din and Jack’s eyes catch sight of you and their faces fall. Din whispers your name out while Jack stays silent.

Reality rams into you like a released wild bull.

Because you realize you’ve interrupted them. You're barging in, an actual third wheel.

You want to move, want to say something. But you can’t even imagine what. It clicks that you read this whole situation wrong. Maybe neither of them actually held feelings for you.

A sudden loud knock on the wall makes you and the cowboys practically jump.

One of the event announcers pops his head in casually.

“Hey sorry, but you’re needed out back Djarin.” He says to Din then leaves.

Even with the surprise arrival and then departure, the thick tension doesn’t leave the air. If anything it’s caused a strange vacuum to form.

Jack now breathes out your name hesitantly. Yet, his eyebrows are furrowed hard, concerned and upset. Din’s dark eyes shine so visibly soaked with worry.

Before you can even say anything one of Jack’s main coaches and manager, Champ, waltzes in. He’s a striking presence that draws all the focuses to him

Champ whistles loud. “Who died in here?”

No one says a word.

“Alrighty then,” Champ shrugs, not wanting to dive into whatever he senses.

“Daniels come on,” he urges. “I ain’t waiting anymore. They’re probably waiting for you too Dinny.”

Champ’s nickname for Din, which Din himself detests, makes you smirk and brightens your spirit for a moment.

But the awful tension stays sticking to your skin allowing a poison to seep in.

“Hey there, sweet pea.” Champ nods his head acknowledging you. With a weak smile you nod back.

You politely excuse yourself and leave.

The walk out of the arena is the longest of your life.

Everything you just saw flashes through your mind a rapid flip picture book. You can process what you saw but can’t fully grasp it.

Even outside, the roar of the rodeo swirls around even in you.

You might have wandered into a country song earlier but you didn’t realize it was going to be a heartbreak one.

You met Din first in a grocery store parking lot.

It had been a total accident. Literally. You had gotten into a small fender bender with him in the parking lot of a grocery store.

He drove the oldest silver Honda Civic ever still existing and still can’t believe it didn’t even manage to take a hit. You were also horrified when you saw there was a baby sleeping away in the car.

Yet the entire time Din was so kind and concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn’t realize it then, but that shy and very handsome scruffy man with his ancient Honda Civic would change the orbit of your life.

Because that day you accidentally collided with a cowboy, it opened your world like a vast desert horizon.

Jack arrived soon after.

If Din was the soft daybreak, then Jack came in like a dust devil.

Though they competed in two different categories, you discovered many rodeo circuits crossed paths.

When you went to visit Din months ago at the ranch housing many of the cowboys for training, that’s when you first met Jack.

He walked straight up to you and asked if you were lost because he was concerned heaven was missing an angel.

He hasn’t shut his mouth since.

Before it was simply you and Din. But Jack is a force that seems to barge his way in like the wild broncos he rode.

He is shameless in flirting. He often playfully touches yours and Din’s cheeks often, or casually drapes himself over you or his fellow cowboy.

Din on the other hand is quietly sweet. He routinely sends you photos of the sunrises of all the cities he travels to.

So opposite, they almost are like the sun and moon.

You began caring for them fiercely and fell so fast.

But now, you contemplate if you simply played yourself a fool becoming your own rodeo clown.

All the ideas, all the heavy conflict of having to pick between the two of them, taste bitter on your tongue. You take a long swing of your drink to hopefully wash it away. It doesn’t.

Din texted you asking to please meet him here at this bar near the secondary training arena and now you wait.

It’s lively tonight. Even after being thrown into the world of cowboys, or rodeo circuits, sitting in the honky tonk bar feels as if you’re on another planet. The music thankfully has a nice beat so you enjoy the song playing.

Someone slides in besides you, not even sitting on the bar stool.

“You seem lonely.” The voice of a stranger.

Besides you, a lanky college freshman looking guy leans against the bar staring at you.

“Just waiting for a friend.” You politely answer.

“Well, maybe you’d like some company waiting?”

You’re about to decline when a looming presence arrives at your back.

“Sorry there buckaroo, but this lovely peach is taken for the night.”

Jack’s smooth voice rings out and shocks your system.

The stranger’s face drops comedically fast and the punk scrambles away without another word.

You turn around and it isn't just Jack behind you but Din is as well.

Jack wears his black cowboy hat and you’re surprised to see Din in one as well. He rarely wears his Stetson but it transforms him.

In typical western, the dark midnight cowboy hats are that of the outlaws, the bandits. One of Din’s managers, an older man named Cobb Vanth, once told you that.

And maybe these two are.

Yet, even as bandits, they stand before you like two country romance song dreams. The kaleidoscopic lights dance and radiate off them.

Din mutters your name with hesitation swirling in his eyes.

Panic prickles against your skin. You’re not ready yet.

So you turn to the bartender and order three rounds.

“Honeypie, we gotta talk.” Jack says low, strikingly somber.

Shaking your head, you swallow hard. “Not now. I just…can we just please…just wait for a moment.”

Please let’s just enjoy this false dream a little longer, is what your heart whispers out.

“Of course.” Din mutters and they both move to sit on either side of you, a sort of barricade you’re already missing.

The drinks come and in a nervous quiet move you and the cowboys cling your glasses together. Everyone tosses the shot back. The tequila burns and helps slightly.

You decide if this a goodbye to this dream, you want to at least enjoy it a bit tipsy. So you order another round.

“Careful.” Din urges, ever the cautious one.

“Come on.” You now perk up. “You two both scored high yesterday! We gotta celebrate.”

Which is true. Even with your brewing heartbreak, you still got excited seeing their scores from the app alert. Because that’s the person you’ve become. You have apps on your phone dedicated to rodeo cowboy scores. Well, you might be deleting those apps soon.

You move to take the next shot.

You raise your glass to your two dear cowboys - the ones who you text everyday, the ones you try facetiming as much as you can, your dearest friends.

And maybe that’s all they will be.

You toast to their scores and to them.

Din’s eyes hold a pained shine in them that makes your heart twist. Jack instead wears a rather terrifying steeled up composed face.

You feel empty taking this shot and only Jack throws his back with you. Din even doesn’t touch his drink.

This time the tequila goes down warm and numbing.

The alcohol begins to work its confidence magic in you as you tease Din for not wanting to drink with you. He however glares at you and you’re reminded of an unwavering mesquite tree.

Maybe this is a bad decision.

You can’t be selfish about this. These two found each other. All those moments you thought they had feelings you simply had read the situation wrong.

“Look,” you sigh now, deflated. “I’m sorry-”

Jack suddenly smacks his hand against the bar countertop. It’s aggressively firm, a loud startling whack of a noise.

“Dancin’.” Jack declares loudly. “We’re gonna dance.”

“What? You and him?” You ask over the music.

“No.” Jack snaps. “We’re all goin’. So get your asses up.”

Din scoffs.

Jack, with firm hands yanking on yours and Din’s sleeves, actually drags everyone to the dance floor.

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. The floor is heavily crowded and no one notices three more additions.

“I don’t dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

Both you and Din fling out the same hurried replies to Jack.

He barks a laugh.

“It ain’t about being good at dancin’. S’about feelin’ the music, feelin’ the beat.” He yells back and then instantly transforms into a commanding force.

Sliding behind you, Jack turns you around to face Din.

His and your eyes go wide.

Jack then reaches to yank at Din’s dusty jacket, effectively pulling him forward -

Straight to your front.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears, so loud it drowns out the music blaring.

“Relax.” Jack purrs out. “Just…feel.”

You want to bark back about how that’s easier said than done. But your tongue gets tied up so badly you can’t form words.

Then one of Jack’s solid hands moves to your hips while the other reaches across to rest against Din’s shoulder.

You’re locked into them.

Jack begins to move you slowly.

The music shifts into something sultry, almost aching to be a slow dance, but a lively beat keeps it moving. You didn’t even think country songs could have this kind of vibe. Even though Jack mainly guides your hips, you already start swaying to the beat on your own.

That’s when Jack slowly bumps and nudges his hip against yours, fully pressing you closer to Din.

The position isn’t lost on you. It’s undeniably intimate, overly sexual, and you’re worried how this looks to others in the bar.

Then Din presses forward firmer against you and your mind blanks for a moment. Now sandwiched between a cowboy canyon, a dangerous heat burst from your chest.

Jack moves his nose against your face.

“Relax gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

Your eyes hazing over flicker to Din who stares out with a deep desire swimming in his eyes. Cautiously his hands now move to rest on your hips. One of them goes on top of Jack’s.

You swallow hard and pray the lingering liquid courage will bless you.

Deliberately, sensually, your hips wiggle and grind between the two of them. You might not be properly dancing right or even swaying to the beat, but desire is the one guiding your body.

Many times nights alone in your bed you've thought of them like this with you. And now, you’re here caught in the sticky heart of that passionate desire.

Din dives forward and presses his face against yours.

Jack groans as his nose buries into your hair. Their cowboy hats create a sort of cover over you casting a shade against the glittering bar lights.

You’re literally under their shadow.

“Oh baby.” Jack whimpers.

Your hands, which you awkwardly kept close to your chest almost afraid to touch this dream and have it pop like a soap bubble, now tingle. You want to touch them both as much as you can.

So one of your hands slides up to hold onto Jack’s face while your other runs up Din’s broad chest to his shoulder. Your hips continue to sway and grind between them.

Then, like a spark ignited, something shifts.

Maybe it’s more people crowding in on the dance floor, or the heat finally bubbling over, but you’re suddenly squished firmly between them, practically glued together. Din’s face, his striking nose, presses against yours while Jack burrows the side of his face against your cheek.

They purposely rut into you. You think this is maybe the closest taste of what it would feel like for them to fuck you and you drown in it.

With Din and Jack, both hard, grinding against your front and back, your eyes close. A debauched sensation sinks its claws into you. It’s sinful and utterly deliriously delicious. You worry you’re about to melt.

Lust rips through you, an incinerating beast, and you bow to it.

In that haze, Din leans down and licks the sweat on your neck. His tongue against your skin, electrifies you. You ascend out of your body and moan.

Your body bucks up hard begging for attention and release only to find you’re still firmly caught between a cowboy canyon.

Jack shushes you firm but low. “G’damn y’all ‘re gonna be the death of me.”

His voice slurs, almost sounded drunk in something dangerous. Din continues licking at your neck not stopping once.

Suddenly Jack moves and shifts your body. The jostling breaks the movement and snaps you aware, like you’re slowly waking up, wearily trying to recapture your focus.

Quickly he snags your hand and Din’s. Out of reflex you clutch onto Din’s jacket. Jack, now a focused man on a mission, guides the three of you out of the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Din mutters against your face.

“Don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

You can’t tell where Jack guides you. The haze still fogging up your focus keeps you surprisingly pliant. It also doesn’t help that Din now practically drapes himself against your back, a protective cowboy like cloak. His lips continue to softly try and kiss any inch of skin he can reach.

You never thought he’d be the greedier one.

Jack guides everyone down a hallway past the restrooms. He even shouts a friendly greeting at someone. Of course he would know people here.

“Get your asses in here.” Jack now growls and his accent seems stronger.

That’s where he opens a door to a small back office type room and barrels everyone inside.

Jack’s not gentle. He almost yanks everyone in like a panicking kid trying to hide something from their parents. The door slams behind him. You’re transported into a badly lit mess of an office.

Jack whips around, pitches forward and before you can react he moves to attack your neck alongside Din.

His tongue licks a possessive strip up to your jaw then starts biting at your skin.

A wild moan escapes you as your eyes blissfully close.

You’re burning up. Your body, now molten, is only held up by your cowboys pressing flat against you. Both Jack’s mustache and Din’s faint beard scrape against your skin beautifully. Two tongues maping out your skin makes your mind evaporate. Every inch of your body screams for them.

That’s when you feel Jack drag his tongue on your neck down towards Din.

With another playful nip at your skin, Jack moves to lick against Din’s mouth still on you.

The wildest moan escapes you and you almost come right then.

Both cowboys almost kiss each other while also trying to still taste at your neck has you absolutely dizzy.

It’s hot and consumes every inch of you. You’re panting ridiculously loud and you can’t even hold back your whines or whimpers anymore. Slick pools between your thighs and sticks to your body. Your neck feels just as wet with the spit covering your skin.

Suddenly a loud aggressive bang rattles the door and your perfect illusion pops.

Panic barrels into you like a wild bull and your eyes go wide.

But your cowboys react fast. Din protectively curls his sturdy arm over you and draws you closer. Jack whips around and stands protectively in front as if to block the view.

Thankfully no one opens the door.

“Ya better not be fuckin’ on my god damn couch, Daniels!” A man howls with laughter.

“No fuckin’ way in hell.” Jack hollers back. “Not when your nasty ol’ ass calls its home.”

From the other side of the door the owner of this room laughs electrically loud. The man smacks on the door twice, an almost playfully goodbye.

The blazing heat that was melting you now simmers out like a fast dying out ember. An awkwardness settles in its place.

Your mind sorts through the heavy doubts again. Were you just a toy for them to play with? And even though a more aggressive side urges you to just enjoy and not think more into this, you don't want to be seen as just an accessory to their duo.

So slowly and quietly you untangle yourself from them.

Din mutters your name slightly confused and Jack turns around looking towards you.

“Where ya headin’ out to, peach?” Jack asks surprisingly composed.

You quietly tell them you’re gonna head home. A thick tension returns, choking the room.

Din calls your name, solid and striking.

“We need to talk.” His words are firm.

You want to make a sarcastic quip that they weren’t much for talking a few moments ago. But you don’t. You want to go home, maybe wash your skin off till you reach bone. You want to wash them away because it’s sinking in.

This last taste of desire is maybe your goodbye.

“Now why ya gotta make it sound like we’re talkin’ about a goddamn funeral, darlin’?!” Jack huffs annoyed.

Din shoots him a sharp annoyed look.

Darlin’

You’ve never heard Jack call his fellow cowboy that.

His nicknames for Din ranged from ‘pigeon’ to ‘sourpuss’ all were affectionately teasing in nature. Now the tender pet name holds the unspoken truth, as if seeing them kissing didn’t solidify it earlier.

“I’m sorry, I just…I read this wrong…” your voice becomes small and deflated. You would head home with a broken pride, but you didn’t want to be bitter about this.

Your eyes flicker up to them.

“You two… I’m glad you both found each other.” You smile weakly, the strongest attempt at being honorable and good. Yet the words turn to ash on your tongue.

You promise you’ll text them when you get home and now turn to leave again.

“The fuck s’that all about?” Jack snarls and his words snap your spine straight.

“Jack.” Din chides him sharp and your attention whips back to them a bit panicked.

Anger, along with the faintest edge of annoyance, colors Jack’s handsome face as he glares at you.

Your face scrunches up confused. What is he so upset about?

“The three of us were practically just humping like fuckin’ barn animals in heat and you wanna say shit like that?” A hot flash runs in Jack’s eye and you swear he even sounds hurt.

“Don’t say it like that.” Din glares.

Your eyes flicker between them and an edge of panic starts crawling on your skin.

“Wait, what?” You mutter out confused.

Silence suffocates the room and it feels like you’ve entered into a classic western standoff waiting to see who will strike first.

“Oh baby,” Jack’s gentle exhale shatters the moment as his eyes stare so directly at you. “Ya haven’t realized it?”

“What?” You squeak out confused.

“We’re crazy for ya… like a bunch of fools tangled up in a damn lasso.”

Jack’s words ignite a flurry of sparks within your chest that knock you breathless.

Turning towards Din, you notice his Stetson hat slid off, possibly during the heat of the moment earlier. But it allows you the clearest view of his gruff face and you think he’s never looked younger. His face is open. Hesitation and worry linger in Din’s dark road eyes reminding you of how secretly tender hearted this cowboy is.

Then Din nods so slowly, agreeing.

You almost choke on an inhale.

The sudden thought of picking between them has a fanged spike of anxiety rushing through you.

You didn’t want to pick. But, were you being selfish because of that?

Sensing your hesitation, or catching whatever emotions now flood your face, both cowboys now hesitantly move towards you.

“Talk to us, please.” Din softly urges.

Your voice cracks, tripping on itself annoyingly conflicted. But you manage to cough out that you don’t think you can pick between them. You don’t think you ever could and you’re worried your heart might not even handle it.

“Oh sweet baby,” Jack breathes out.

Suddenly the back of his hand tenderly strokes your cheek. Din gently glides his hand to your back and softly rubs you soothingly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at their sudden shift in affections.

“You don’t have to worry…or pick.” Din explains softly and with comfort.

Wait.

“You both…” you exhale shakily. “You two want me? Want us?”

For some reason, the notion of ‘us’ strikes you right then and there. That idea of you and them becoming an ‘us’ feels like the most natural progression in your mind.

Your best friend, when you told her about you and these cowboys, had cautiously asked if there was maybe a possibility of a poly type relationship happening. You immediately shot her down, not even wanting to think of the option.

But if you had been honest, a part of you started feeling guilty at the thought of wanting that. You enjoyed spending time with Jack just as much as Din. And you enjoyed spending time with them together.

Now you stand on the new ground of something beautiful waiting for you to step into.

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to ya…but we’ve been an us even before our dumbasses even realized it.” Jack snorts.

Din rolls his eyes and you snicker. But Jack is right.

Tentative date-like nights included Jack joining. Jack constantly invited both you and Din to his ridiculously lavish RV he used for the rodeo road trip days. That eventually led to days where you and Jack waited together for Din to finish. Or Din and you watching Jack practice. Din even began bringing his adoptive son over and Jack took to the baby like a fish to water.

This path you unknowingly had been on now is about to be crystalized before you and it warms every bit of your soul.

But a sharp fanged doubt suddenly gnaws at you.

“Wait,” your voice wavers. “This…this isn’t the alcohol talking right?”

Din sighs, shaking his head no but Jack answers first.

“‘Fraid not gorgeous. Been wanting this for a while.”

All worries get snipped and float out of your body leaving you so limitless.

Din leans to draw you into his side embrace and burrows his face against you.

“Sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.” He mutters. “It all just…kind of happened.”

You understand and lean back against him. Din exhales shaky, soaked in a relief you can almost feel in your bones.

“Now, now, you two angels can’t go leavin’ out ‘ol Jack.” Of course Jack chimes in.

“Maybe it’s time we rethink this.” Din dryly comments and you laugh when Jack squawks out like a disgruntled crow.

But he effortlessly manages to borrow against both you and Din. It’s a little cluster, a soft clanging of bodies, but it’s cozy and feels right.

Someone yells outside the door laughing and your heart jumps.

“Whose office are we even in?” Din mutters out.

“Jimmy’s. Well technically mine too since I own the bar with him.” Jack casually drops.

Of course he did.

“And as cozy as it is here,” Jack adds gently. Both of their hands now intertwine against your hip.

“I say we move this little party somewhere nicer, like let’s say…my trailer?” Jack offers.

His RV is nice. Din’s is very spartan compared to Jack’s that had a full king sized bed and jacuzzi.

They truly are your sun and moon, so opposite and yet so beautifully brightening up your sky. A beautiful buoyant bliss fills you knowing you’re in their orbit, just as much as they’re in yours.

Din’s baby boy is a fidgety one. While he enjoys running around, he also loves to watch the world form anyone’s welcoming arms.

Which at the moment happens to be yours.

The baby chews happily on his favorite adorable stuffed longhorn plushie while the two of you enjoy the peace of the arena.

Without the noise, the yells and commotion of the crowd, or the sea of cowboy hats, the arena is strangely quiet, almost church-like in its own way. You understand now how it can even inspire a deep devotion.

After all, you see it through the eyes of two cowboys.

The baby happily shrieks and begins twisting in your arms. You turn to see what’s gotten his attention.

“Why howdy there my lil’ tumbleweed!” Jack warmly cries out and without hesitation scoops the sweet little boy into his arms.

The baby squeals in delight as Jack peppers him with kisses. Your heart melts at the sight.

“Don’t worry, didn’t forget about you too darlin’.” Jack winks and leans to kiss you soft now.

His mustache tickles your lips and you smirk. He also playfully and lightly smacks your bottom. You shoot him a look while Jack innocently shrugs.

“Our cowboy come out yet?” He asks.

You shake your head. Not yet. Din being ever the respectful man he is, allowed the others to use the practice bull first and took the last slot available for the practice times.

However, his team and the others arrive just as fast. Din steps out, the true silent assassin he’s regarded as. He’s memorizing to watch, so deeply focused and intense.

The baby now whines at being held and demands to be put down.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch him, you watch Din.” You reassure Jack while he places baby boy on his feet. The baby immediately waddles away, absolutely giddy to be free.

“Lil’ stinker.” Jack affectionately teases with adoration shining in his eyes.

Your eyes now watch the curious little babe you treasure so dearly. Behind you though, the training starts.

The clang of the chute being prepared and the commotion of the team getting ready fills the arena.

Then the alarm blares. The loud noise has the baby jolting in surprise. Before he can cry at the sudden noise, you quickly scurry over and swoop him back in your arms. You playfully press a loud raspberry against his sweet chubby cheeks and he giggles.

The noise of the ride erupts with the thrashing of the bull and the upheaval of the dirt.

Then, it’s all over.

“Attaboy!” Jack cries with a loud proud clap.

The baby, now fully distracted by the commotion, seems happy in your arms again as you approach Jack’s side.

Quickly your gaze goes to the arena to make sure Din’s alright.

“How did he do?” You ask about Din.

“Better! Still ain’t as good as yesterday's time but rides like these just help keep ya warm and flexible.” Jack explains.

With the bull settled, Din moves towards Vanth to discuss the ride.

Din draws his helmet up and already has so much sweat on his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is, rugged and adorably scruffy.

“Bweh!” The baby happily spots his papa and squeaks.

The noise causes all in the ring to turn towards where you three stand. Cobb Vanth grins kindly and Din’s eyes soften immediately spotting your little cheering group.

“Yeah lil cowpoke, you didn’t get to see how good your papa was, but he did great.” Jack coo’s as he softly smooths out the baby’s hair.

With a pat on the back from his manager, Din jogs over to you and Jack.

It’s unique, this new carved out existence of yours with them. But it’s beautiful and feels as if it’s always meant to be, like this has been in your veins long before you even knew.

Din reaches the edge of the ring and you and Jack shower him with praise. It’s adorable watching him get flustered at all the attention given to him, especially when you lean and Jack lean to kiss his cheeks.

“Seems like your ridin’s was a little rusty today though, cowboy.” Jack purrs. “Maybe we should all have a nice private lesson after this.”

“Hope those lessons aren’t with you. Last time you were out by the second count.” Din, like the surprisingly snarky man he is, effortlessly replies back as snatches the baby wiggling trying to for him.

Jack squawks hilariously upset and you snicker as your heart fills to the brim.

The arena is quiet, a sacred space that watches over all of you together like this. And it’s special, having this moment here with both of them.

You think there might not be many country songs about snagging two cowboys, but it’s okay.

You find this song in your heart feels eternal.