#//skipping birthday party stuff

[sunnysky-evans]

That would be a super cool name! Yeah. On account of that and also I'm just pretty much used to Sky more than Skylar. If my mom calls me Skylar probably I'm gonna be in some trouble. But I'm all grown up now so I don't get in trouble with my mom anymore. I will ask him but guess what? He was a baby so maybe he doesn't know about that stuff. I think probably he is more glad that his name is Dallas and not Sallad. I don't think I like that name even a little bit. I think people would really like a film club! That's like watching movies and things right? I help to take care of the slaves that are there. I do stuff to make them happy and make them feel loved and taken care of. We do sleepovers and pizza parties and just lots of cool things. If they need things to be happier or more comfortable, I get them those things.

Asakayalaaar! Right, you said it was on account of it being shorter, and because your mom said you are bright like the sky? It sounds like a plate of veggies that all taste different and don’t blend tastes. Yes, Sallad is Dallas in the mirror and it also starts with an S! Ask him if he is glad the nurse was looking in the mirror. Yeah! He seems very helpful and knowledgeable too. Ohh, so I can ask to start a club for people that like memes and discussing films. What do you do at the hotel? 

Yes! You are invited and I hope you come and I hope you dance and have a good time. Maybe you can show everyone your grogu tattoo! If you’ve already gotten it by then. Do you have any party tricks? Because it’s bite size? Maybe. If we start a game of truth or dare, sex stuff is bound to happen. But I am not thinking of a full on orgy.

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

-------------------

Part 2 is here now!

[johnbrand]

What Friends Are For

"Something wrong, bro?"

“Well of course I noticed. My soles are pretty sore, man, so the longer you go without giving them any attention the stiffer they get.

“Oh, is this about your birthday again? Look, I’m sorry about not texting or coming over, I was too busy. It’s not like you were all alone.”

“You were all alone? Dang, must suck to be you. That would have never happened to me. The bros and I party hard into the night. Don’t you have like a family or something that you could’ve celebrated with?”

“Yikes, I didn’t realize you’re not in contact anymore. Yeah I kind of missed your coming out, but it couldn’t have been that bad. I wish I could’ve been there to back you up but I had an emergency, so I had to put my needs before yours. This total babe I had been flirting with for weeks finally got drunk enough to text me back. By the time morning came around, I had already dumped a load on her titties and two more right up into her–unprotected! Best part was she didn’t remember a thing, so in a few weeks she’ll be in for quite the surprise.”

“Right right, we were talking about you. So your father didn’t take it well. A few bruises too? Yeah, I got some as well, from the gym though. Been experimenting with some new weights but things got a little messy. Don’t worry though, one of my bros was spotting and able to save me from any real damage. Can’t be putting the ladies out of all this masculine perfection, am I right?” 

“Speaking of the gym, they are increasing the membership price in order to finance some new additions. Nothing much, but I'm short a few hundred bucks. Thought you could help me out, you know being that I’m your best friend and all.”

"Dude, what do you mean you 'don't know'? It’s not like I’m asking for that much! Do you even know what this friendship means for you? Or how hard it is for me to be tolerant with such a whiny faggot?”

“Yes, I know I said I would stop trying to use that word. But I did not say it was my first priority, as apparently this friendship isn’t for you. Stop being so selfish, man.”

“See, wasn’t that much easier? You can just Venmo me. In fact, you should make it a recurring payment, that way I don’t have to ask again and then we can skip this whole debacle in the future.”

“Trust me, you won’t be needing that money in the future anyway. What would you have spent it on otherwise? Probably something to stick up your butt, right?"

“Why would you need to buy new bedding? This stuff works perfectly fine. Soft, expensive, and plushy; I always love laying on it. And if anything, my funky gas has only made it more valuable. You know, other fags online buy my sweaty gear, they even beg for it. You should consider yourself lucky that I fart on your bed for free. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah yeah, no more fag-talk, whatever. Now that your pity party is over, let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna be out partying with some bros later; you wouldn’t like it, closest bros only. So how about you put those hands of yours to good use, cause these Size 14s are feeling tight! You know, I could get lucky tonight. Pfft, who am I kidding–of course I will!”

[mnt-eevee]

he can’t really taste things :3

give me ur favorite wilbur fact

[macfrog]

wish you were here | one shot

thank you lovely anon for this gorgeous request which felt like a huge mug of hot chocolate and a pair of socks fresh from the dryer to write. i hope you enjoy.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)

warnings: fluff lmao, thirty-year age gap and u can stay mad, set around the holidays but no mention of christmas etc, nothing but love and two hints of sex. that's all. oh and no guitars were harmed in the making of this - joel canonically goes and gets the guitar after the fic ends. dw.

word count: 1.9k 

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤎

Jackson is alive with a thrumming heartbeat. Pulsing through the air, bumping gently against the quick-lying snow and filling the otherwise silent night. A steady, rhythmic heartbeat.  

A heartbeat which sounds a lot like Blue Monday, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

The holiday party is in full swing down in the Tipsy Bison. Seven o’clock ‘til late! on flyers plastered all over the commune for the last month. Tommy had tried relentlessly to convince Joel this morning on patrol – It’ll be a good night; You oughta come along, show face at least. At the same time, Maria was on your back about it in the stables.

Y’all hardly come to anything fun, she’d argued.

We come to stuff.

When’s the last time you came to anythin’?

We were – we were at Mike’s birthday dinner.

What – five months ago?

We like alone time.

Alone time? You’re never apart from one another.

Alone time – together.

Neither attempt had been successful. Tommy and Maria had exchanged a disheartened glance as the two brothers passed their horses to you on their return. Joel clipped your cheek, took his gloves off and fixed them onto your frozen hands before making off for home, a proud grin on his face. You’d held your own as well as he had: you two had a clear evening ahead.

He had lit and nurtured a fire, had made himself a coffee and heaped half a damn bag of tiny marshmallows into a hot chocolate for you, but when he’d come through to take his place on the couch, you were already stood out front.

It’s bitter out – a soft breeze, but a thick chill on its wings. The sky a washed gray, heavy clouds overhead. He slips outside, setting the mugs down on the table, and slings a blanket over your shoulders. Kisses the curve of your neck, scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

‘s freezing, pretty bird.

Then keep me warm, you whisper, turning into his arms. He steps back, settling into his chair, flicking his fingers for you to fall down into his wide lap.

You curl up against his torso, your head hooked beneath his jaw. Wonder how drunk Tommy is by now. What is it – nine?

His wrist lifts, moonlight gleaming in the reflection of his broken watch face. Just gone ten. I bet he’s on his ass already.

You giggle into his shirt, breathing in the scent of the pine trees, the smoke from stoking the fire inside, the bite of hot coffee. The echo of voices swelling in merry song turns your attention down the street – two figures hooked onto one another, stumbling through the powdered snow. Some slurred rendition of September melting into All Night Long before the smaller of the two tugs their partner off into a darkened house.

Joel laughs to himself, the bristle of his beard catching on your hair as he shakes his head.

You ask him softly, Will you play me something?

His breath soars, a cloud hot and pale white, past your temple and up into the pastel sky. Gets swallowed somewhere overhead by the wash of warmth from the porch light. He turns his mug until the owl faces the street, the bottom gnawing against the wooden armrest of his chair.

I’m serious.

What do you wanna hear?

That one you’re always practicin’. The plucking one.

Another rumble between your shoulder blades. His chest jolts with a solid laugh. The pluckin’ one.

You know the one.

I know the one.

Will you play it, if I go get the guitar?

Baby, his lungs nudge on your back as they fill, it’s late. We’ll wake the neighbors.

Everyone’s at the dance. C’mon.

And he can’t argue with that. The entire street lies dark, vacant. Yours is the only house with soft-glowing eyes, the muted orange of the fire flickering behind closed blinds. Two figures, tangled in a chair on the dim front porch; a hunting jacket around his shoulders, and his body around yours.

You tug on the blanket, wrapping it around your elbows as you stand. Just once. Play me it once.

Joel’s looking up at you, setting his mug down on the table. Play you it as many times as you want, pretty bird. Just – quietly.

There’s a spring in your step that drags another chuckle from Joel’s lips: the kind that drips like honey down your throat and warms the pit of your stomach – a sweet, comforting thing, a sound you swear was made purposefully for you. Divine and deliberate.

Like – all of him. Like the shape of your name in his mouth, the curl of his tongue as the sound surfs over it. Like the curve of his hand and the way yours so neatly molds into it.

The way it did the day he found you, crouched in the gray backroom of some butchers deep in the city, and took you all the way back to Jackson. Let you cling to him on the back of his horse; your weak arms around his waist, anchored by the heavy jacket he’d thrown over your back. Your ear between his shoulder blades. And that was that.

Fifty-six. One brown-turned-silver hair away from thirty years your senior. He still remembers before. Talks about movies, talks about computers. Talks about Sarah, when the sun hits the wall at a certain angle and he reckons he could see her standing right there, the soft shadow of her hair dark against the golden wall. When you make a joke and he laughs a ghostly sort of laugh, like he’s hearing the echo of her voice make the same quip three decades ago. He always says she would’ve loved you; you like to think he’s right.

He found you: a lonely little broken heart, and he pulled you to your feet with a rough palm against your own. Hands calloused only from years spent carving wood and pressing the hard strings of his guitar into the fretboard, and nothing else. No violence and no bloodshed; no survival or threat. Music, and patience, and kindness.

And maybe you found him, too, in the same sort of way: roughened up, awkward and messy stitches holding him together. Maybe the two of you nursed one another back to life; each brush of your hands in the dining hall and each meaningful glance while out on patrol sewing those wounds up a little tighter, a little safer.

He sits forward when you hold the instrument out, sweeping a broad palm down the slope of the body. Pinches the pegs one by one, twisting them while his thumb taps on each string.

Come here, he says, beckoning you forward with a flick of his chin. He taps on the seam of his jeans, widens his legs for you to curl up between them at his feet – the way you always do.

Your elbows hook over his thigh, ear pressed against the inside of his knee. Staring up, blinking slowly, eyes glazed with the cold and with the light and with love.

He plucks gently, slow at first. Letting the strings snap with a twang, vibrating enough that you feel the small rattle in your jaw. Your eyes fall closed, head rocking with the light tap of his heel on the porch. When you peer at him through your lashes, he’s watching the skilled movements of his fingers intently; as if he’s as much a spectator as you are – his body doing all of the thinking and working for him.

 So, he sings, and your stomach melts to a puddle, so you think you can tell –

Your eyes close again, the low rumble of his voice crisp in your ears. Like thunder, like the promise of something great and mighty. Something moving, something rolling and changing the landscape of your body, your mind and your soul. The lines between living and dying begin to blur, the seam tearing between this plain and the next.

Did they get you to trade – your lips parting to whisper the words with him – your heroes for ghosts?

His thumbnail dragging down the strings, his strong fingers flitting between chords. Like he was made to sit here, in the dead of night, and carve a space in the world for himself and his voice and for you – lain in the safe scope of his body, protected by his breadth and brawn and lulled by his sweet song.

His breadth and brawn – the parts of him which have kept him standing here. His skeleton, his muscle. But the thing that keeps you warm at night, buried side by side under a threadbare woolen sheet together, the thing that you link your arms around as he leads you home from the nights you dare to visit the Tipsy Bison: are his heart, his flesh, the gray-singed hair which falls in a featherlight wave over his forehead. The hair you sweep from his eyes when he’s on top of you, his hips cradled in yours, that all-encompassing feeling of every part of him filling every part of you.

It all feels that way. The warmth of him, the feeling of being wrapped around him. Hooked around his body, bones intertwined. Absorbing one another, his words breathing life into yours, slowly growing louder and braver with each pluck and strum of music.

We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.

Your makeups entangling, ribcages locking together, flesh meeting flesh and hair twisting until one day, Tommy will come looking for his brother and find the two of you here on your porch, your arms still draped over Joel’s thigh and his fingers still mid-song. Stuck, alone, together.

What have we found? Joel looks down to you as though asking the question – his eyebrows raised – and you reply, a dumb smile across your lips, The same old fears, and then, together –

Wish you were here.

He plays until his fingers must start to hurt, the way he clenches and loosens his fist. Setting the guitar against your chair, hands hooking under your arms to pull you back up to him.

That one your favorite? he asks, the cold tip of his nose circling yours.

You nod. Only when you sing it.

I like the way we sound together.

You smile, shrinking into his chest again, your fingers surfing back and forth on the worn shirt. I like the way we do a lot of things together.

His hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, massaging your waist. He dots a trail of light, damp kisses along your forehead, dipping to your temple, the angle of your cheek until your jaw lifts and his lips are against yours, his tongue parting to lick purposefully at yours.

I love you, pretty bird, he whispers, the words falling sweet and fair on your tongue.

You take a moment to let them seep into your skin. ‘s the first time you’ve ever said that, you tell him.

Joel smiles. He knows. But you knew it already, he counters.

You know, too. Mhm.

Alright, he groans, slipping his hands under your thighs and hoisting you up to his height, bedtime.

It’s only ten, you complain, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he carries you inside. It’s too early to sleep – Joel.

Didn’t say we were goin’ to sleep, he mumbles, kicking the door shut.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters

A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!

Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.

3.6k words

"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop. 

"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile. 

A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.

As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.

"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."

I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will. 

"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.

As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.

"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"

She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.

I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.

I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"

He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."

He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."

Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."

As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.

"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.

"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.

"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.

Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."

I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."

Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.

"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."

Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.

Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers. 

I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.

I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door. 

I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him. 

"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.

Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.

"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."

He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.

"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug. 

Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"

I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now. 

"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us. 

"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.

"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.

"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence. 

"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously. 

Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."

He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.

"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."

I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it. 

"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force." 

"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely. 

"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile. 

Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.

"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."

Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"

We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50. 

"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up. 

I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."

He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"

I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question. 

"Why?" I said with a stern face. 

Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."

He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"

I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed. 

"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way? 

I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?" 

Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.

"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.

Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."

He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate. 

"Fine." I said with a thin smile.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."

"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"

He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."

Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."

He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. 

I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment. 

I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door. 

That must be Logan. 

I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying. 

"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch. 

I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off. 

As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water. 

"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly. 

He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water. 

"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.

As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed

I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response. 

"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room. 

He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night. 

"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone. 

Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart

[phantasmicfish]

Long ranty list of stuff that majorly Sucked in s4 of tua:

- number one thing I loathe is the convenient way tua got their powers back. We get this brief vignette of them without their powers in episode 1, and then by the end of the episode they conveniently find the marigold and *voila* have powers. Where were the stakes? The consequences? Show me TUA struggling to adjust to powerless life. Five annoyed that he has to use the stairs to climb a four story building. Diego failing to chop expertly w knives. Luther struggling to open jars idk give me something. Don’t just do a six year time skip and ignore the mundane!

- Adding onto ^ that I feel like it would make more sense to me if we saw TUA without their powers for maybe 3 eps in s4, and they go through a mini Journey to get them back. Instead it’s like the entire hook of the s3 finale is immediately resolved in episode 1, it annoys me to no end

- Five working for the CIA I sorta get… cuz it’s sorta what he did with The Commission. So now unmoored and powerless he’d probably go back to that lifestyle. But Five, paranoid violent genius in the room Five, not noticing the completely obvious umbrella tattoo on his boss’ wrist?

- Jennifer being introduced, immediately shrugging off the fact that her entire town was murdered/a Truman Show sham, and joining Ben with basically zero questions

- Jennifer getting no character arc beyond she was born in a squid and she loves Ben

- Getting zero recognition that Reginald is an alien. Like. Hello?? You just found out your pos father is AN ALIEN! Are the siblings seriously not going to talk about this

- Also what year is s4 set in. Why do they always dial rotary phones but mention cryptocurrency? What is this universe where everybody knows Reginald and he’s colloquially referred to as “the elite?” Are Reginald and Abigail the�� President and Vice President? King and Queen? Just some people who started a massive corporation and got rich?

- No mention of Grace is criminal. It would have made waaaaay more sense if the lady who played Abigail was actually played by Grace. And it would add some heart to Reginald as a character too. Otherwise, instead of secretly loving Grace his alien wife, Grace is just some woman who was alive in the 60s and Reginald made a replica robot mom of her in 2019. For some reason. Idk I feel like the puzzle pieces were all laid out and for some reason TUA writers did not assemble them

- No mention of Pogo or Ray is also incredibly disappointing. Allison betrayed her siblings in order to be with Claire AND with Ray in one universe, but he’s not even in s4. Why even included him in the end of s3 then

- Okay maybe I’m pulling a blank but who tf is Quinn? Why does he know Klaus? Why does he hate Klaus so much?

- Why does Claire know Klaus is immortal? Why is all of sudden cool w her mom having eye glowy powers? You have no questions about that Claire huh…

- It also made sense to me that Lila and Diego would hate domestic life… and to me it seemed like even introducing their kids (not one, but three) was sort of silly. We only really saw Grace at the birthday party and then it seemed like Lila and Diego would forget and then remember the kids existed at weird parts

- Five and Lila giving up searching for a way out of the subway stations six years in seemed sus. Yes, take a break/eat strawberries but why would you stop searching for a way back? You’re supposed to be the best agents in the commission so like… where did that grit/determination go

- Ben dying and being mutated with zero understanding of what was happening to him… just sucked

[russellsppttemplates]

Hii🥺 so I was wondering since its gonna be oscars birthday on the weekend how about his first birthday as a dad and his partner surprise him even with flying his parents out there🥺

Love your works, have a lovely weekend❤️

Note: thank you! I hope you have a lovely weekend too (the rest of it anyway)! 🫶

"So you'll head straight to the hotel?", you asked Nicole over the phone, "this little guy is getting fussy like he was yesterday, so I can tell Oscar we'll meet him back at the hotel and he won't find it too suspicious", you reasoned.

"Thank you again for arranging all of this", your mother in-law thanked you, "I'll let you know when they pick us up".

Oscar's birthday coincided with the race weekend, and since it was the first one after Lucas was born, you thought it would be nice to have everyone together in the same place to celebrate your husband's birthday.

"Are you packing up?", Oscar said as he saw you pack Lucas' toys in the diaper bag, "yes, he's really fussy so I think we have to skip qualifying today", you kissed his cheek as he helped you, "you need a quiet nap, little one? You do, don't you?", he asked Lucas, bouncing him on his hip before he let you take him from his arms and into your sling, wrapping him safely against your body, "you and mummy enjoy yourselves and then I'll join you, okay?", he kissed the top of his head before kissing your lips, "stay safe, I love you", he smiled.

"Stay safe as well, okay? We love you and we'll see you at the hotel", you kissed his lips again, lifting Lucas' arm so he could wave at his father.

Arriving at the hotel just as Chris sent you a text saying they were on their way to the hotel, making you go up to the room and settle all your things, change Lucas' diaper and putting him back on the sling so you could go downstairs when they arrived.

"Grandma and grandpa are downstairs, my love, let's go meet them!", you spoke, grabbing the room card and heading to meet your in-laws.

"Look at the little one, he's gotten so big!", Chris was the first to speak as you stepped closer them as the man at the reception desk finished the details so he could hand them the card for their room.

"He looks so much like Oscar, but the lips are all you, Y/N", Nicole said, kissing your cheek, "how are you, dear?".

"I'm good, did you guys have a good flight?", you said as you stepped into the elevator, rubbing Lucas' back over the sling as he was fighting sleep, "He's been wide awake just taking in everything around him, but around this time yesterday, he started fussing so it actually works best to be here anyway - I can't wait for Oscar to see you guys!", you beamed.

Oscar arrived at the hotel and bid goodbye to the rest of the team before swiping the card on the door, ready for some cuddles with you and your little boy when he heard a laugh way too similar to his mother's, "hey, I'm back", he announced.

Chris got the small cake you got with the two candles, singing happy birthday as Oscar hugged his parents after gasping in surprise, "Happy Birthday to you!", Chris sang before Oscar blowing the candles, "what are you doing here?", he mused.

"Y/N flew us over so we could spend your birthday together", Nicole offered, kissing his cheek.

"Look who's up", Oscar cooed as Lucas looked up at him, stretching his arms so his father could pick him up, "hey, buddy, we're having a little party of our own, aren't we?", he gushed.

Nicole offered to put Lucas to sleep while Chris unpacked their stuff in their room so you and Oscar could go to the hotel restaurant and enjoy a meal together without the baby, "thank you for doing this, love", he kissed your knuckles.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[livwritesstuff]

It’s late in the day when Sam Owens first approaches Eddie.

Eddie is sitting in a lawn chair on the edge of Joyce and Hopper’s backyard in Hawkins, Indiana, and sort of trapped there ever since his and Steve's daughter Moe had dozed off in his lap a little while ago.

For the record, Eddie and Steve don’t live in Hawkins. They’d have to be insane to stick around after everything this hole of a town put them through, never mind willingly choose to raise a child there. No, Hopper had bullied them into making the trek home to celebrate Moe's first birthday (Jesus H. Christ, she's one) and by the looks of how crowded the yard is, he'd done the same to practically the entire rest of the Party too.

Eddie isn't actually trapped either. It's true that he doesn't really want to tempt fate by waking Moe up from a nap that he and Steve had sort of resigned themselves to skipping that day, but he could get up if he wanted to. He's a whole sap in his big age of thirty-six though, and extremely aware of how quickly Moe’s first year of life had flown by. He'd be a damn fool to not relish in these moments, when Moe is a baby still, when she's little enough to fall asleep in his lap like this.

So he's sitting and he's letting his mind wander down whatever rabbit-holes it ventures upon because he's not just a sap these days, he's getting retrospective too.

Twenty years after all the shit that went down in his Hawkins, Eddie considers himself a secondary character in it all (even though it hadn’t felt like it at the time – that’s for fucking sure). 

Honestly, he'd really only been involved in about five days out of several years of that shit – not in the know yet for the first part, and unconscious for the end of it – secondary character stuff, in Eddie’s opinion (and as a two-time published novelist, he’d be the one to know).

It's probably for the best, to be honest. He barely survived even the secondary stuff — with a mostly-full picture of everything that happened over those three years he feels pretty positive that if he’d gone through anything more he wouldn’t have been so lucky. 

And these days, in July of 2002, he’s feeling pretty lucky too. 

“Doc,” Eddie nods as Owens takes the empty chair beside his own.

Owens is another one of these secondary characters in everything. Owens is…Eddie isn’t sure who Owens is, to be honest. A doctor in some capacity, he's fairly certain, and also a scientist too in some capacity given how he’s still in Hawkins doing research on all that shit — and he roped Dustin into it too (though as far as Eddie can tell, Dustin is a more-than willing victim in it and goddamn thrilled to be taking over his work someday too).

Someday soon, Eddie would wager, because Owens is well and truly reaching retirement age – he probably should have retired already, honestly, but Eddie can also sort of see why it might be difficult to step away from the kind of work he’s spent his life doing.

“Mr. Munson,” Owens greets him in return. Eddie watches his eyes flick down to Moe for a moment, “Or is it Pops these days?”

“That’s Steve, actually,” he replies, tipping his head in the direction of Steve, who’s standing at the grill with Hop (they’re listening to Dustin ramble about something and wearing matching beleaguered expressions).

Owens seems to understand the implication, because his only response is another one of those wry smiles and an exhaled laugh.

“Well, congratulations either way. I was very happy for you when I heard the news about the adoption.”

“Still keeping tabs on us after all these years?” Eddie asks, mostly joking because he knows the answer is yes. He knows they’ll have eyes on them for the rest of their lives for one reason or another (which he’s nearly made his peace with by now).

“Well, old habits die hard,” Owens replies somewhat tiredly, “Or something to that effect.”

Eddie doesn't really have anything to say in response, so he opts to say nothing, instead running a hand over Moe's hair — it's getting long these days, not quite long enough to style yet but long enough that she shakes her head to get it out of her eyes and knocks herself off-balance which is so so cute.

“I’ll admit," Owens continues after a while, "When I first met you, this isn’t where I thought you’d end up.”

“Yeah, you and me both, Doc," he laughs, because it's true.

“What I mean to say," he pauses, "It suits you.”

Moe chose that moment to finally stir, snuffling a bit as she lifts her head and looks at him with those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

"Good nap, bug?" he asks quietly.

She responds with a bleary, "Dada" (which she had only just started saying a few weeks ago and it goddamn kills Eddie every single time) as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

He hears Owens let out a soft chuckle.

“You’re really milking this, bug," Eddie says as presses a kiss onto the top of her head, "I think he gets it.”

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Birthday Plans - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 5161>

warnings - smut near the end, nothing too hardcore

The bright sunlight streaming through the curtains of yours and Charles' bedroom window disturbed Charles, and gently ushered him awake. He turned onto his side, expecting to see you lying beside him. Much to his disappointment, you weren't there.

"Baby?" he called out, but his voice was drowned out by the silence of your apartment. That was odd, he thought, since he hadn't noticed your departure. Normally, he would feel the temperature drop beside him and the bed would shift slightly, but he hadn't even realised.

Wanting to find you, he reluctantly pulled himself out of the warm and cozy confines of your bed, and padded through your apartment to find you. As he walked through the hall, he spotted random pieces of confetti sprinkled about the floor.

That was when it dawned on him. Checking his phone, he saw what day it was. 16/10/23. He couldn't believe that he'd actually forgotten that today was his birthday, and he realised exactly where you were. He also couldn't believe that you had let him forget.

For the past three years since you had been together, you had made his birthday the biggest deal of the year, without fail. Whether it be organising the biggest party he had ever been to, fully comprised of all of the people he loved and cared about on his yacht, to a quiet day in with his family.

This year, he had asked for nothing too over the top, since he just wanted to spend the day with his favourite person in the world. "My love?" he called out again, but he didn't expect a response. The double doors through to the kitchen were closed, which was odd, since you usually left them open.

Opening them, he was greeted with the loud pop of a confetti cannon, and a shower of red confetti. "Happy birthday baby!" You shouted as he walked through the door. Charles gazed around at the balloons stuck to the walls and lying on the floor, and plenty of birthday banners plastered about the room.

"Thank you, my love," he smiled, pulling you into a hug.

Turning out of the hug, you stepped over to the kitchen table, before skipping over to Charles and placing the party hat atop his ruffled locks. "Seriously?" he asked with a cocked brow. "Obviously, the birthday boy has to wear a party hat!" you playfully scoffed, putting one on too.

"Well thank you for all of the effort, sweetheart, I appreciate it," he told you, pulling you in for a kiss. Even if he was certain you enjoyed the thoughts of his birthday more then he did, it was always made a better celebration when you were planning it.

He wasn't looking forward to the fact that he was turning a year older, he was looking forward to the bright smile on your face when you got to show him whatever you had planned. Despite him telling you over and over that you didn't have to put so much effort into it, you always ignored his protests and did it anyway.

He always put effort into making things special for you, so you thought it was only fair that you did the same for him at any given opportunity - even if he didn't allow much room for someone other than you to be spoilt.

You just enjoyed the day that you got to celebrate him, since he was always celebrating you and you were able to make him priority for this one special day.

"Would you like to know what I have planned for today?" You asked, leaving your arms linked around his neck as his stayed on your waist. "Yes I would, I want to hear what you're going to do to try and outdo yourself," he told you.

"Well then you might be a bit disappointed, it's not very flashy" you winced, knowing this year's plan wouldn't be as extravagant as those of previous years. "I don't need it to be flashy, baby. You know we could do nothing and it'd be a great use of time spent," he said.

"So, I have invited Carlos, Arthur, Pierre and Kika over for some drinks and maybe some games, y'know, fun stuff," you explained, hoping he would like the sound of it. "Now that is my kind of night," he smiled, gently kissing your forehead. 

"I'm glad you think so,"

—

"Does anyone want another drink?" You asked, hopping out of your seat and looking around at the group of people sat around you. "Y/N, I can get them, you sit," Carlos offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm already up, but thanks," you dismissed, collecting empty glasses that wanted to be filled. Charles watched intently as you were running around, playing hostess. You were making sure everyone was well taken care of, and he could see you pacing around the kitchen, making sure everyone got the drink they wanted.

He was mesmerised by the way your dress clung to you in all of the perfect places and he was infatuated by the way you moved. You brought through the numerous different drinks that everyone wanted, and Charles noticed that you didn't have one when you sat down.

"Are you not having one, my love?" Charles leant in to ask while the others talked about something that you weren't quite listening to. "No, I've had two, so I'll stop there," you smiled, not wanting to get too drunk.

"Come on, have a bit of fun. It is my birthday, after all," he said, giving you those puppy eyes that were too damn irresistible. "Fine, I'll have one," you caved instantly as a triumphant grin spread on Charles' face. That was the grin that came out when he'd gotten his own way.

You went to stand, but a firm hand on your shoulder pushed you back down into your seat. "Sit, I've got it," he said, standing and disappearing into the kitchen. He was back shortly after, handing you a glass with some sort of clear, bubbling liquid inside of it.

"What is it?" You asked, sniffing it to try and discern what it could be, to no avail.

"Drink it and I'll tell you," he smirked. You took a sip, and you still couldn't quite tell what it was. It was slightly bitter, but the edge was taken off by a hint of sweetness, and it tasted faintly of some sort of berries. "That is very nice, whatever it is," you told him, drinking some more.

Suddenly, that triumphant grin appeared on his face again. "I knew I'd get you to like gin and tonic at some point," he chuckled, winking at you. 

"This isn't like the stuff you've been giving me," you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

"It's the one Arthur brought, it's in the kitchen if you want more," he smiled, taking your free hand in his and intertwining your fingers together. "Y/N, have you still got Twister?" Kika tipsily giggled. Her, Carlos and Arthur had been drinking slightly more than you, Charles and Pierre, so they were all rosy cheeked and giggling a lot.

"I sure do," you smiled, going over to the cabinet and producing the colourful box of the beloved game. Kika clapped, and Charles looked downright mortified. He was never a massive fan of the game, but he liked to see you have fun, so he allowed it.

"Ok, so we'll do the Leclercs' vs the rest of us,'' she said, and you were slightly confused.

"Four on two? How is that fair?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed.

"You're technically a Leclerc, so you play with Charles and Arthur," she smiled, and Carlos and Pierre smirked at Charles. "You might as well be at this point," Charles muttered, smiling at you. Without anymore deliberation, Kika leapt up and set the plastic mat out on the floor.

"Charles, pick your challenger," she said, gesturing towards Pierre and Carlos, who were both reluctant to play - but it was all in good fun. "Carlos, you're one of the least flexible people I know, come on," Charles said, pushing himself off of his chair.

As the round went on, you span the spinner to see what Carlos would be doing next. "Carlos, left foot red," you laughed, looking at the tangled mess that he was in. His arms were crossed, and he somehow had to get his left foot under the entirety of his body to reach the red dot.

"It's not possible!" He complained as he tried to stretch his leg underneath him. As he groaned in discomfort, everyone was just laughing at him. Charles, who was also in a pretty compromising position was laughing too as Carlos' limbs collapsed beneath him and he clattered down to the floor with a thud.

"That was impossible," he huffed as he led on the mat on the floor as Charles stood and stretched his arms and legs out. "Good game, mate," Charles cockily grinned, offering a hand out to Carlos to help him up.

"Yeah, whatever," Carlos chuckled, hoisting himself up with Charles' help.

"So that is 1-0 to team Leclerc, Arthur and Pierre, you're up next," Kika smiled, straightening the mat out for the next round. Pierre and Arthur both groaned, reluctantly standing out of their chairs and standing beside the Twister mat.

Unfortunately for Team Leclerc, Pierre bested Arthur, leaving the game on your's and Kika's shoulders. "Y/N, you and me, let's go," she challenged, kicking her heels off to the side.

"Oh it's getting serious now," Pierre teased as he had to miss the flying heels that were coming in his direction. "I don't like to lose," she smirked, pointing at her boyfriend.

"Neither do I," you countered, leaving your heels beside Charles' chair as you stood to challenge Kika. "It's 1-1, let's see who can come out on top," Arthur said like he was presenting a football match or something. "Wait, so you're telling me we could have just let these two do it and our rounds didn't matter for anything?" Carlos asked.

"Yes," you nodded, and you watched the poor guy's face just drop.

"So I didn't even have to go through the pain and suffering that I went through?" he asked again, and everyone started giggling at him. "Sorry Carlos, the game is the game," Charles laughed, and Carlos looked dejected. "I am never hanging out with you guys again," he scoffed with feigned seriousness.

"Sure you aren't, Carlos," Arthur said, receiving a playful punch on the arm due to his comment. "OK, you two, OK, Y/N, right hand blue," Pierre instructed, flicking the spinner with his finger for Kika's turn.

You had your back to Charles, so you bent over to place your right hand on the blue circle. Your dress only barely covered your ass, and it took every ounce of self-control that he held in his being to not find an excuse to get you into any room in the house and have his way with you.

But, he had to remain a gentleman while your friends were there - even if he was going to find that incredibly hard. Especially when you looked as good as you did. He had to avert his eyes and look anywhere in the room but at you, but he was struggling immensely.

Thankfully for him, or not so much, his sinful thoughts were interrupted by Pierre giving you the instruction to put your left foot also on blue. He had dodged a bullet there, but Twister was most certainly going to send another huge one flying at him.

"Are you kidding me?" you exclaimed a few rounds later, as your left hand was supposed to go on the nearest yellow, which was underneath Kika's back. The problem with this was you were doing a crab over Kika, so you wouldn't be able to balance. "Just give it a go, you'll be fine," Carlos collared, loving seeing you two in a compromising position too.

By some miracle, you managed to balance yourself whilst still hovering over Kika. "So the next one is..." Pierre dragged out as he slowly spun the spinner.

"Pierre, hurry up!" Kika squawked, and you wanted him to hurry up too. Your muscles were aching as you held yourself in place. "OK, so, Kika, left foot green," he said, and all she had to do was stretch her leg out by one circle. "Y/N, right foot blue,"

"If I do this, I will flash you all, so look away," you tipsily laughed. Normally you wouldn't have done it, but there was alcohol running through your veins, so the logical and self-preserving part of your brain wasn't in full working order.

Arthur and Pierre averted their eyes, but Carlos looked for that second too long. "Carlos." Charles scolded as the Spaniard defensively held his hands up. He wasn't being disrespectful, he simply reacted too late.

Charles couldn't take his eyes off you, spread out all pretty for him as he uncomfortably shifted in his seat. His resolve was crumbling, and he was counting down the seconds until everyone left you alone. As soon as that door was closed, his hands were going to be all over you.

"Kika, left hand-" Pierre started, but her limbs too gave in under her. You breathed a sigh of relief as you were able to stand up, and your muscles were aching. "And team Leclerc win!" Arthur exclaimed, raising his arms in celebration.

"That was a tough one," you sighed, high-fiving Kika as she took a seat next to Pierre. There weren't any seats left, since Carlos had sat on the floor before Twister started. "Y/N, sit here, I can move," Arthur offered, noticing how there weren't any seats left.

"No, no, you sit down. I can sit on the floor," you dismissed, walking to Charles' side and attempting to sit down. "Absolutely not," Charles said, grabbing your wrist and tugging you onto his lap. You draped your legs over the side of the chair as your arms comfortably wrapped around his neck.

His hands found their perfect position on your waist as you leant your weight onto him. "My girl doesn't sit on the floor, especially not on my birthday," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

His words sent tingled up your spine, and you had to repress a shiver as you sat with him. "Can we do a round of this?" Kika piped up, snatching the Five Second Rule from the shelf beside her, and everyone audibly groaned.

"Just one round, please?" she asked, and you all caved in and thought it could be fun.

"Charles." You stated, tilting away from him as you looked at the car in your hand.

"Baby." he responded, intently looking at you as he waited for you to read him the prompt. "Name three vegetables!" you told him, turning the 5 second timer upside down as it made that strange noise. "Carrot, pea..." he fumbled, his brain short-circuiting as he couldn't think.

"Carrot!" he exclaimed as the timer ran out. For a second, everyone fell silent, and Charles looked utterly confused. "Carrot pea carrot? Name three vegetables and you say carrot pea carrot?"

"That's three vegetables, isn't it- Oh shit," he said as he realised what he had done. Everyone started chuckling, and you were just flabbergasted. "Carrot and carrot are the same vegetable, Charles. I know you don't cook very often, but I'm sure you have the ability to know that carrot and carrot are the same thing!" you ranted, and everyone was crying of laughter.

"Baby, there's no need to make it personal," Charles chuckled, trying to keep a straight face. "There are so many different vegetables in this world, and you name two of the most basic ones, and one of them twice. You adore pasta, and you have forgotten about the humble tomato. Maybe a pepper?" you carried on, and Carlos was practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

"I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry," he laughed, kissing you on the cheek. You simply rolled your eyes at him as everyone calm down. "Carrot pea carrot my god," you muttered, and Charles chuckled at you.

As the six of you talked and sipped at the remnants of your drinks, you slowly shifted on Charles' lap to get more comfortable. "That is a dangerous game, baby," he said lowly in your ear. You couldn't help but shift a little more, as his hands braced on your waist to keep you still.

One of Charles' hands steadily moved along the inside of your thigh, his fingertips tracing the skin. He was getting dangerously close to you, as his fingers brushed over the thin lace that was the final barrier between him and you.

"Hey, later," you winked at him and you pushed his hand away. There was no chance you'd be able to keep yourself from being calm and inconspicuous if you let him do what he wanted to do. You wanted it, but you would never be able to live down the embarrassment if anyone caught you.

You all talked for another hour or so, and they all stood up to leave. You hugged everyone and waved them out of the door, and you were glad the night was such a success. You had enjoyed yourself, everyone else had enjoyed themselves, and -most importantly- Charles had enjoyed himself.

Once you had closed the door, you picked some glasses up off the tables and took them over to the sink to wash them. You couldn't be bothered to wash them now, so you just left them in the sink. You were putting away some of the bottles into the cupboards, and Charles appeared in the doorway.

For a moment, he just let himself watch you. He had behaved for the whole night, but now his resolve had fully crumbled and he rushed up to you. "Hey, you-" you started, but were abruptly cut off by him pressing his lips to yours as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter.

The marble was cold on the backs of your thighs, and it sent shivers through your body. "You have been driving me crazy all night, you know that?" he told you between kisses. You could taste the alcohol on his lips as his kisses became more aggressive, more desperate.

"I probably could have guessed that," you smirked against his lips, running your hands across his chest and over his shoulders. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress over your thighs and hips.

As your fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, you saw the hunger in his eyes. The pure lust. "Just because it's your birthday, you can do whatever. You. Want," you whispered, and you knew you could have just gotten yourself into something dangerous. 

"Well then that makes this easier," he smirked, his lips ghosting across your neck and down your chest. "I have been wanting to do this for hours, but you just had to go and make things difficult for me, didn't you?" he playfully scolded, gently nipping at the skin on your shoulders.

The white fabric of his shirt was sent fluttering to the floor as you slid it off and over his shoulders. Your hands moved to his belt next, but he effortlessly tugged your wrist away. "Not yet, I want to see you squirm for me first," he said, slithering his hands up the sides of your thighs and to your hips, his fingers hooking into the flimsy slithers of lace that sat there.

He slipped the garment over your thighs and down your legs, discarding them to the floor just like his shirt. Charles looked at you with those big green eyes, keeping them locked on yours as he sunk to his knees in front of you. His eyes still trained on yours, he placed a hand on either knee and spread your legs as he slotted himself in between them.

"God have you been this wet for me all night? I would have sent everyone home earlier if I had known," he smirked, placing soft kisses up the insides of your thighs, nibbling on them every now and then. You shuffled closer to the edge of the counter, hoping he would take the subtle hint.

"So desperate for me, but I'm feeling nice. How could I make my gorgeous girl wait?" He teased, kissing dangerously close to you. You were desperate for it, he had gotten that completely right. You were positively throbbing for it. Without another word, he licked a thick stripe up your dripping folds.

You leant back against the kitchen cabinets, tangling your hands in his hair as he kept your legs split open with his hands. Every now and then, he would attach his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerve endings, just to keep you on edge. His tongue teased your entrance as you tugged on his hair even harder.

You pressed your hips into his face as he smirked against you. "If you wanted more, all you had to do was ask," he told you, sucking and nibbling on your clit as you moaned out in pleasure. It was like sparks of electricity pulsed through you every time he made the slightest movement on you, and it was becoming almost unbearable.

"Fuck, just like that," you mewled, running your hands through his hair again. He kept on licking and lapping at all of the right places, and you felt like a volcano was going to explode inside you. "Shit, baby, I'm-" you started, but you were cut off by him slowing his movements.

"You close, my love?" He mumbled, running his tongue over your clit again. You were so sensitive, moaning with every movement he made. "Mhm," you hummed, not able to form full words without moaning out. Charles knew you were close as he carried on teasing you with his tongue.

Just as you were about to come undone, he pulled his mouth away from you and kissed you on the lips. "You really thought I'd give it to you just like that? You made me wait, now you've gotta wait too, it's only fair," he mocked with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

"Baby," you whined, looking at him with those eyes that told him everything he needed to know. You needed it, and you needed it badly. But, he wanted to hear you say it. "Beg for it, baby. Tell me how much you want me. How much you need me," he instructed, sinking back down to his knees again.

He planted excruciating kisses on the insides of your thighs as he waited. "Please," you whispered, jolting your hips forward, desperate for the extra contact. "I can't hear you," he dismissed, nipping the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Please, Charles," you groaned, louder this time.

"What are you saying 'please' for? What do you want?" He grinned, adoring the control he had over you right now. "Please, baby, I need to cum," you practically shouted, hoping it was enough for him.

"Oh you need it do you? Do you need me then, my darling?" He teased.

"I need you so bad right now, I'm aching for it baby," you grovelled, and that was like music to Charles' ears as he came closer and closer to you. "That was exactly what I needed to hear,'' he told you, diving straight back into you. His tongue circled your clit perfectly, and the extra pressure you had been so desperate for was being granted.

"Is this good, my love? Is this what you wanted?" He mocked, tasting the neediness on his tongue.

"Fuck, yes," you moaned, tipping your head back. Your breaths were short and shallow as you felt yourself crumbling. "I'm going to-" you began, but Charles pressed your clit that tad bit harder, and you felt a tingling wave of pleasure wash over you as you cried out for him.

He stood back up, aggressively kissing you as you could taste a mix of yourself and alcohol on his tongue. But, the taste of him was far more intoxicating than any alcoholic beverage could ever be. It ran through your veins and made you drunk on pure lust, and it felt better in every conceivable way.

As he kissed you, Charles thought over where he could take you. He didn't want to keep you on the counter, but your bedroom was far too far away for how much he needed you now. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the empty dining room table, and it was the perfect option.

He held his hand on your bare ass as he carried you over to the table and sat you down on it. He slipped the remnants on your dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him as your nipples pricked up in the cold. "Fucking hell, you're so goddamn beautiful, baby,"

He stole yours lips with his before you could say a response, and he wasn't in the mood for waiting any longer. You could sense his neediness, slinking your hands down to his belt and unbuckled it. He didn't have any protests as he kept his hands on the sides of your face, holding him there as he kissed you.

You pushed his pants down to his knees, and he couldn't be bothered to kick them off - he didn't need to, anyway. Charles pushed your legs further apart with his knee and stepped impossibly closer to you. "You ready?" he asked, despite the fact that he already knew the answer.

"Yes," you breathed as he gently eased into you, and the feeling of him filling you up was like pure ecstacy. He gave you a second to get acclimatized to the stretch before slowly starting to rock his hips into yours.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock was unlike anything, and it sent straight euphoria surging through his veins. He touch every inch of your insides as he moved, the tip of his dick hitting that one spot that nobody else seemed to be able to find with every thrust.

You didn't know where to put your hands, so caught up in what he was doing to you. You linked them around the back of his neck, nails digging into his flesh as you came closer and closer to release.

"How the fuck did I get so lucky?" he groaned, hands gripping onto your hips so hard you were certain they'd leave bruises there in the morning. But you didn't care. "My girl is the sweetest in the whole world, and her body is perfect in every single way. It's like you're made for me, baby," he rambled as he picked up his pace.

His head was spinning as he leant in and peppered random kisses all down your neck. He was addicted to the way you made him feel and the way he made you feel.

He could feel your legs start to shake, but your walls were already clenching around him. "You close again, baby?" he spat through gritted teeth, rutting his hips into you harder and harder. "Mhm," you hummed, not able to formulate full words. 

The feeling of you combined with the sweet sounds of you moaning for him sent him over the edge, and you dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulders as you came with him. As you both rode out your highs, letting the tingles slowly fade away, you clung onto him. 

The room fell silent, before Charles broke the quiet with a, "Thank you, my love. You're amazing, and not just at that, of course," he softly chuckled, holding you in his arms for a moment. 

"Happy birthday, baby," you smiled, leaning into his embrace as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. "And this has been the happiest of birthdays for me. Yes, I love the yacht parties, but a quiet night in with my favourite people is all I need," he told you. 

You sleepily smiled at him, holding your eyes open as you looked at him. "Are you tired, my love?" he cooed, looking at your half open eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair was all puffy, your lips red and puffy from how much he had kissed you. 

There were small red marks over your neck and shoulders from where he had gently nibbled at the skin as he gently ran his fingers over them. They were just small reminders of who you belonged to, even though there was no doubt in anyone's mind of who that was. 

"Yeah, but we can stay up. Whatever you want," you said, suppressing a yawn. 

"We can go to bed, I need birthday cuddles," he said, hoisting you up into his arms like a bride on her wedding day. "You get cuddles every night, what makes them different because it's your birthday?" you giggled, clinging onto him for dear life. But, you knew he would rather die than drop you. 

"I don't know, they just feel more special when it's on my birthday," he explained, dropping you down onto your bed. He threw a hoodie from his drawer at you, before slipping some sweatpants up his legs. 

Just as Charles hopped into bed beside you, you remembered something. "Shit, how could I forget?" you scolded yourself, scrambling out of bed and into the kitchen. 

"Baby? You alright?" Charles asked, wondering why you had disappeared so quickly. 

"Close your eyes!" you told him as you stood outside the door. Charles did as he was told as you walked into the room, trying not to drop what you were carrying. "Happy birthday to you," you started to sing as Charles opened his eyes. "Happy birthday to you," you continued as you perched on the bed beside him.

"Happy birthday dear Lord Perceval, happy birthday to you," you finished, completely off key. Charles saw the very poorly done Ferrari logo on the top of the cake, the prancing horse appearing to have three legs and his eye was very wonky. In the top corner, you had hand-piped a list of all the races he had won, as well as your favourite podiums of his. 

"Blow out the candles," you told him, moving the cake closer to him. The orange flames on the 2 and the 6 were extinguished as he blew them out, unable to wipe the goofy smile off his face. "When did you make this?" he smiled, taking the cake out of your hands.

"Yesterday when you were out with Arthur," you told him, glad he had noticed that you had made it. "I know it's a bit shit, but I tried,"

"I prefer this to the actual one any day of the week," he said, grabbing his phone and taking a picture of the cake. "It's perfect, thank you baby," he thanked, looking at the cake again. 

"Happy birthday, Charles," you said again, and you both hoped there would be many more to come. 

A/N - Tanti Auguri to the love of my life, and the guy who makes everyday that slight bit easier. Forza Ferrari, and Forza Charles Leclerc ����

|masterlist|

[mopopshop]

Ur Best Friend

Inspired by the song “Ur Best Friend” - Kehlani and Kiana Ledé (such a good song oml 🙏🏾) 

Paige x fem!OC (cause ion do that y/n stuff, no hate but I don’t🧍🏾‍♀️)

Featuring: Jalen Suggs

Words: 2k

Themes: 

-drinking

-cheating (sorry fam)

-slight sexual content

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the backyard, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. It was my boyfriend Jalen's twenty-third birthday, and I had spared no effort in planning the perfect party. A few weeks earlier, we’d just celebrated our five months, so I had to have a party to top the last. The decorations were up, the music playlist carefully curated (tons of Rod Wave and Bryson Tiller), and the scent of food filled the air.

Among the guests was Paige, Jalen's best friend since eighth grade. I've always been cordial with her, exchanging polite smiles and casual conversation whenever she was around. But something had shifted in the past few weeks. A subtle tension lingered between us, sparking whenever our eyes met, igniting something unfamiliar yet exhilarating.

She'd gotten more touchy with me as well, a hand on the lower back and a hushed "excuse me" to get past, a casual arm over the shoulder during group hangouts, a hug or two, but up until a few weeks ago, I'd seen these as nothing less than innocent.

She's a friend, you know? Jalen's friend at that, so no way in hell I'd ever try anything with her. Not to say she's not, you know... good-looking. She'd 100% be my type if it wasn't for Jalen. Paige's tall, she's blonde, she's funny, has a nice smile—did I mention tall? Sometimes she wears these glasses which make her look—

"Aniyah!!"

I'm pulled from my thoughts as my friend Gigi waves me over to her.

"Come on, we're about to sing happy birthday," she smiles and rushes over to me, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the kitchen.

As I followed Gigi into the kitchen, my heart skipped with something unfamiliar upon seeing her. Paige was already there, chatting with a few other guests and standing next to Jalen. She was wearing a grey Nike tech sweatsuit under the jacket, a white tee, her classic braided ponytail, and topped off the look with white Jordan 4’s.

As I moved through the crowd, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. At times, we made eye contact which deepened the flush in my cheeks.

I’d told Jalen earlier that week that I wanted to toast to him before we sang for the cake, and I’d prepared something ahead of time, but now as the moment approached, something about it just hadn’t felt right. In the midst of my thinking, I don’t notice Jalen coming up to me with open arms.

“Hey baby, you good?” He says with a look of worry.

I’m startled by the sound of his voice and am quickly ripped from my thoughts.

“Hey! Yeah yeah I’m fine… just hoping you like my toast,” I breathe out, praying he doesn’t press the issue.

He smiles and says nothing, placing his hand on the small of my back and directing me towards the front of the crowd… towards Paige.

I lock eyes with Paige again and I rush to look away, but as I go to look back, I notice she’s still staring.

What was this tension between us? And why was it becoming harder to ignore?

Gigi nudged me playfully, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Girl what is going on with you today, you gonna do this toast or what?”

With a deep breath, I grab my shot glass and get everyone’s attention.

“Hey y’all, before we sing happy birthday, I just wanted to make a toast to my man. Tonight, let's raise our glasses to celebrate Jalen's 23rd birthday. Jalen, you're more than just a boyfriend; you're my rock.”

Even as I say these words and the more I go on, I don’t feel as though they’re genuine. All I can do is think of Paige…

“Your kindness, strength, and passion inspire me every day. Your laughter lights up any room, and your presence warms my heart. Here's to another year of smiles, laughter, and adventures together. Happy birthday, Jalen! Cheers!”

I tip my head back and down the shot, feeling the lukewarm liquid burn its way through my throat. Bringing my head up, I catch Paige’s gaze once again, and this time I don’t look away.

Suddenly my view of her is obscured as a group of Jalen’s friends come from the hallway with his birthday cake. Everyone gathers around Jalen, me on his right side and Paige on his left while Jalen holds the cake in the middle. We quickly sing happy birthday, and he blows out his candles. He turns to me to go in for a kiss, but I catch sight of Paige behind him and end up swerving his kiss.

“Yo.. seriously you good babe?” Jalen spews sort of irritated.

“Fine! I’m fine,” I squeak out, “Just…”

My gaze falls over to Paige, seeing her fight back a smile or maybe a chuckle at the sight of me rejecting Jalen’s kiss.

“… distracted.”

“Uh.. cool, okay,” I see him look to his friend group.

“I’m just gonna go and talk with the boys for a minute,” and he presses a brief kiss to my cheek.

“Have fun!” I turn around and try to yell over the music, but I can tell he’s already forgotten about me.

When I look back, I see Paige again. She makes prolonged eye contact then trails her eyes to the porch outside. Cocking her head towards the door as if to say “let’s talk out here” and promptly turns around and heads out the back doors.

I wait a few minutes before heading out to follow her because as much as I long to talk with her, I’m not trying to look desperate. Slowly but surely, I make my way over to the doors, pushing them open to see Paige leaning with her forearms on the railing.

“What are you following me out here for?” Paige teases turning her head with a smirk. I laugh quietly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

She stands up straight, turning around to face me, leaning her back on the railing, crossing her feet and arms.

“You're trying to be shy so bad, get your ass over here,” She laughs.

I throw my hands up defensively, my voice pitching up a little bit, “I’m not being shy! I just don’t know what to say right now.”

Paige reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me entirely too close to her. “You don’t have to be so weird, it’s just me,” she says softly while caressing my fingers.

“I just- I.. I don’t know! Everything’s just so complicated right now,” I confess.

“Well talk to me about it,” she continues caressing my fingers, which makes it increasingly hard to think straight.

“I can’t.”

“Why not, mamas?”

That god damn nickname.

“I can’t because it’s about you.”

“What about me?”

“I can’t say! I just- it’s like- If I say how I really feel about.. you know everything, It’s gonna be real, and I’m not sure if I want it to be real.”

“Ma, you’re not making any sense right now.”

“I know!” I throw my hands up in frustration, I feel hot and flustered, and Paige being less than two feet from me isn’t making it any better.

Paige grabs my chin, bringing me closer and forcing eye contact.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Seriously breathe through it, you’re okay,” She says calming me down. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

I take a deep breath and back away from Paige slightly, letting the word vomit take its course.

“Every time I see you, my heart races, and my palms get all sweaty. I try to play it cool, you know. But let's be real, I am desperate. Desperate to talk to you, to be near you, to just be in your presence. And when I finally gather the courage to make my way over to you, my knees feel like jelly, and my words get all jumbled up. But you! You just stand there with that smirk on your face, teasing me, and you know you have this effect on me, you love it. I know you do.

And then you show up to Jalen’s party, making all the faces and giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes, and it’s just- it’s a lot to deal with! So I come out here to shut it down, but you make it so fucking hard by pulling me closer, rubbing my fingers and shit, making it impossible for me to think straight. And then by asking me what's on my mind, what's bothering me, you’ve become a better partner to me in ten minutes than Jalen ever has in these past five months.

And I know I should just spill my heart out to you, which I quite literally am doing right now, and tell you how I feel and hope for the best. But it's not that simple. I am scared, scared of losing you, of ruining our friendship, of making things awkward between us. But I can't help the way I feel, Paige. I just feel like the biggest asshole for doing this to Jalen because even though he’s not the best boyfriend, he’s still a good guy. I don’t know…”

I take a deep breath after that, looking at Paige’s face for any sign of disgust.

“Aniyah, I…” she starts.

“See, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I told you it was stupid! I knew you didn’t feel the same, and I opened my mouth anyways,” I quickly backtrack.

“Paige, I’m sorry, I’m just acting all crazy because Gigi’s birthday dinner's in a few days, and I have an early exam tomorrow, just super busy with things! Again, so sorry I-“

I’m quickly cut off by the feeling of Paige’s lips crashing onto mine and her arms wrapping around my waist.

“Don’t apologize for anything,” she breathes out in between kisses.

After a good minute or two of deep kisses, we break apart with our foreheads touching. I bring my arms around her neck while hers stay around my waist, rubbing the material of my black mini dress.

The air around us feels charged with electricity as we stand there, our breaths mingling in the warm night air. Paige's touch sends shivers down my spine, and I find myself lost in the moment, forgetting everything else except her and the connection between us.

"Aniyah," Paige whispers, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of music and chatter from the party.

"Yeah?" I respond softly, my heart still racing from the intensity of our kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, her blue eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation or regret.

“Same,” I smile, and we both laugh.

“This… this is not a good idea,” I sigh out.

“Probably,” she jokes. “But I really wanna kiss you again, so maybe let’s have this conversation in the morning,” Paige tilts her head back down to kiss me again.

I squeal, “Paige! Hold on, Jalen’s still here. So is literally everyone else.”

“C’monnn.. Jalen’s probably blacked out or cross-faded by now. Let’s just sneak past everybody…” She leans down, kissing up my neck.

“I… Paige..” I breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Seriously.. hold on two seconds. Just let me check on him.”

She rolls her eyes sassily, gripping my waist again, “Fine.”

I pull her hands off my waist, interlocking our fingers and dragging her with me back into the house full of drunken young adults. We continue to weave our way through the house finally getting to the room packed full of loud frat guys, including Jalen.

As Paige predicted, Jalen’s 6’3 self passed out on the couch surrounded by his friends in equal states.

“I fuckin’ told you dude,” Paige nudges me with her elbow.

“Shut up!” I laugh turning around and pushing her back slightly.

She grips my wrist, pulling me into her body. “Now can we…? You know..” she says smirking.

I burst out laughing, “Yes! Jesus, you—horndog.”

“The fuck is a horndog, bruh?” She replies chuckling.

“Girl I don’t know! And by the way, don’t call me ‘bruh’ when you’re trying to shove your fingers ins-“

Slapping a hand over my mouth, “Okay okay!”

We both laugh to ourselves as we stumble up the stairs with our mouths attached, bumping into walls and pictures along the way. Finally reaching my room and falling through the doorway.

[coupleoffanfics]

My friend y/n Wayne Part. 1

Yandere! Batfam x Batsis! Reader Summary: Norah was y/n's closest friend. Well she might have been her only friend.

y/n had trouble making friends. The thought of meeting and talking with someone she never met was stressful. What if she said something weird? What if she wasn't talking enough? What if she was talking too much? She never really had too much time interacting with people in the past.

She went to gala's and put on a false smile while staying close to her family. She went to school, but she never went out of her way to talk to her peers. She was never one to make the first move. While of course there were some attempts at befriending the Wayne. She hardly had the time to hangout outside of school. Leading to some alienation.

Yet there was one girl that somehow stuck around. Eleanor Spencer or just Norah. She didn't pester y/n to hangout or force her into something. They're friendship was like a cat and its owner. y/n is off doing her own thing mostly, if not all the time and Norah is willing to wait with open arms. Norah had her own life of course. She wasn't waiting to be at some random person's beck and call, regardless of if they're a Wayne or not.

Still it was a nice dynamic for the two. Any school activities or even social events y/n Wayne would skitter over to Norah and almost hide behind her. Shielding herself from other people as if she didn't have any power behind her name. As if she wasn't a Wayne but then again that could have been why y/n clung to Norah so much.

Their status or name didn't matter to Norah. She was also so confident in herself but not to the point of being cocky. She never cared for what others thought of her while she kept true to herself. She was kind yet never let others push her or others around.

Norah was everything y/n wanted to be and maybe to an extent Norah saw that. She wanted to teach the girl to have a backbone, but y/n always had a bleeding heart.

There were only a handful of times Norah had been to the Wayne manor. They were always for y/n's birthday. She can remember her 9th birthday and how many kids were running around the backyard. There were some parents huddled together chatting with each.

All the other kids were playing while y/n clung to what was her older brother, Jason Todd. Norah remembers how he looked so fed up with the whole thing and overheard him asking Bruce if he could leave when y/n went to the bathroom. Of course the man told him no without hesitation and he pouted which made Norah roll her eyes.

It was only after Jason's death was when the big birthday parties for y/n stopped. It was clear as day how much her adopted brother's death hurt her as she started skipping school and rarely saw out in public. Even though Norah was a little young, she could see how she looked at Jason as if he put the stars in the sky just for her. Considering the snippets of memories she has of the two, she's sure Jason would have if he could.

After that she always tried to make sure the desk next to her was empty. If y/n did come into school, she didn't want her panicky looking for a place to sit. Norah wanted to be her safety net and it seemed like y/n notice as she'd always give her a small smile. Seeing that smile regardless of how small it was made Norah return one of her own with a little nod. Almost as if they were saying thank you and no problem.

Then came Tim Derek. He was only adopted just about nearly a year after Jason had passed. At first it seemed like Tim was pestering y/n and often whispering to y/n about God knows what. He acts like he idolized y/n for some reason while also treating her like an animal he's about to dissect. It was weird and clearly put y/n on edge which meant Norah had to do something.

It often led to Norah dragging y/n away to talk about "important girl stuff" that was top secret. The two would look over their shoulder to make sure Tim wasn't following them. y/n would always give an apologetic grin with a wave and Norah would give a sharp glare as if she'd cut him into two if he followed them.

That period wouldn't last long as it didn't take long for the two to start actually being friends. Norah doesn't know what made them shift to this, but she didn't mind as long as y/n was comfortable. Though she can say that she never really got around to being that close to Tim no matter how much y/n tried to push her two friends together. They just never clicked.

That's just how they worked.

Until the last years of highschool. y/n suddenly have more free time. It was almost like she was let off a leash and taking in her freedom. She joined clubs, did a lot of volunteering, and even got a boyfriend that would end in travesty. Norah knew there was something different about him but she never said anything since he made y/n happy. That was a whole can of worms that didn't need to be opened today.

All that really mattered to Norah was that y/n was safe and happy.

With all that free time she began to become really good friends with y/n. They weren't just acquaintances anymore as they have had sleepovers nearly every night at Norah's. She even learned that y/n was skilled in many arts including illustrations, culinary, and even martial arts.

Of course y/n taught her the basic martial arts though she'd always shy away from any complications given. Always saying, "I'm not that good. You should see Tim fight, he's ten times better than me." The thought of that scrawny nerd being a better fighter than y/n always made Norah chuckle under her breath.

It wasn't uncommon to see the two glued to each other. Norah did theater and other clubs to build up her resume, while y/n did fencing and charity. They mentally promised each other to never miss each other's events. y/n would always show up to Noah's musicals with the most colorful bouquet despite Norah only being a background character. In turn Norah would show up to y/n's fencing matches and would cheer for y/n at the top of her lungs even if she got a few weird looks.

Over the years, Norah helped her become more disconnected from her family. y/n has explained a few times about how lonely it was living in the Wayne manor. She'd talk about how there really wasn't any there for her except for her butler, but even then he'd have had his own things to do. Her brothers weren't in her life anymore despite living under the same roof.

Even when she did get some attention it was usually from her younger brother. Bruce Wayne's only biological child, Damian. Damian was known for having a bit of a temper, but overall indifferent most of the time. y/n talked about some of the insults that were hurled at her. How Bruce basically told her to ignore it. It felt like she was holding back some details, yet Norah couldn't push for more answers when even talking about it made y/n tear up.

Norah began to understand y/n's people-pleasing behavior. While there wasn't anything inherently wrong with wanting to please someone. It wasn't healthy to hang onto other's approval and validation like it was your lifeline. So Norah did her best to help y/n break some habits and get her out of that emotionally neglectful environment. It was slow work. Yet Norah made sure to be patient with y/n. Things like things weren't easy, it was only natural.

The biggest step y/n took towards Independence was moving out. Getting a nice apartment for herself. Though her father was paying for everything until she finished with college and got a steady income. At least he did something Norah guessed, but it was too little too late in her opinion. Still it was victory for y/n and Norah couldn't be happier for her.

Not being used to living alone she asked Norah to sleep over for a couple nights. Since her boyfriend was too busy being a nerd. Norah never saw what made Xander so special, but whatever. Whenever there was anything y/n needed help with, Norah would always try to find a solution. 

It was almost funny in a way. Norah had never cared too much about anyone aside from family and here came y/n Wayne. The embodiment of a shivering wet cat. Norah wanted nothing more than for that poor forgotten cat to turn into a tiger. y/n was far from becoming that fearless tiger, but at least she wasn't shivering wet cat anymore.

Things were looking up for the two friends. Until Gotham was welcomed to another psycho. The charity ball certainly gave this new member of the community a warm welcome filled with screams and blood. Oh, but sweet y/n became the apple of their eye.

y/n was swiftly taken away by the new villain when the police showed up. Norah constantly hits herself for not going to that gala to protect y/n, but what would she really have done? It wasn't surprising y/n had a target on her when she's a Wayne, regardless of if it was planned on or not.

The new psycho had y/n ride in the car with him along with one of his henchmen. From what y/n recounts the bastard was talking normally in a sense. He still had erratic behavior, but somehow spoke casually. They had a conversation though y/n said it was more one-sided than anything else.

She was sitting in the backseat with her hands being tied together behind her. He and the henchmen were in the front. Both had guns and- God damn. Norah wanted to ask why the hell y/n thought it'd be a good idea when she first heard it. He was driving.

Whoever tied her hands together clearly didn't know how to tie their own shoes together because she was able to slip out of them. With her hands free, y/n immediately started strangling him. This took him by surprise and the car started to swerve. She and the henchmen momentarily froze when he started laughing at what she was doing. It was like he wasn't even registering what she was doing.

The henchmen grabbed her arm with one hand and by the hair with the other. No matter how hard they tried to pull they couldn't get her to budge. y/n was seemingly hellbent on strangling this man.

The last thing y/n remembers was the non stop laughing from the man as she slowly lost his breath. And in the corner of her eye she saw the henchmen pull something out of their pocket. That's when they crashed. That's how y/n woke up in the hospital bed with Norah, her boyfriend, and Tim waiting beside her bed. She seemed more surprised that Tim was there than learning she hadn't been shot. To be honest Norah was a little surprised when she saw Tim walk in.

The two girls noticed how distraught y/n's boyfriend was getting when she told her story. It wouldn't have been so odd if he wasn't normally so stoic. Tim suggested that Norah take y/n's boyfriend out to calm down while he talked with y/n. Norah didn't want to leave y/n behind, but she knew y/n wasn't in any danger. y/n seemed fine with this and her boyfriend did look like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

It took almost half an hour for her boyfriend to calm down. When they returned y/n was already out of her hospital gown and in some casual clothes. Norah didn't have to ask when y/n explained that she was going back to the manor. Tim added that she would be safer there.

This was when things really started to go downhill.

Masterlist Here

[arginnit]

my ocs valentina and aldana :)

aldana amado (tall one with black hair) is romans sister and valentina is both alans girlfriend and tomas's classmate

ive touched on aldana before and will do so again in a moment but heres some valen lore

shes 19, she used to go to aldanas school and thats how they know each other but changed schools after getting held back a year for the second time (aldana romans and alans school is a private school and her parents where tired of paying for it)

she ended up in tomas's school on the same grade as him. she sits next to him cus shes actually trying to get good grades this time around and hes quiet and never tries to talk to her (still she sometimes tries to strike conversation with him, something he actually starts to aprecciate after he starts to actually try and socialize with people)

shes pretty laid back and chill, she likes to say that she minds her own bussiness but shes huge into gossip. thats the main reason shes dating alan actually hes like deep into that shit and always finding stuff out. she kinda finds him weirdly interesting and thinks his generall inexperience with women is kinda charming and also likes that he isnt overly romantic or too clingy (hes too dedicated to his grind really)

aldana thinks shes fucking crazy for dating a loser like alan, specially since alan hangs out with roman and she hates him. but shes also really jealous of her having a boyfriend and jealous of basically everything about her so she kinda shuts up about it

aldana herself is 15, shes generally very insecure in typical teen girl fashion, she looks up to valentina as someone who has everything she wants "shes prettier than her, shes got bigger boobs, she has a boyfriend, she more likable, shes everywhere and everyone likes her" etc etc

she belives that the first thing on her way to being like her is her relative lack of independence. shes very often forced to stay at home to watch her little sister Pilar and beacuse of this she skips a lot of "teen activities" that she sees as crucial to her social life (theyre not really, she has plenty of friends and theyre actually pretty nice about her not being available a lot) she envies how valen doesn't seem to give a fuck about anything and wishes she was like that

she resents her parents for this but she also resents her brother roman, who never helps her at all and mostly just dips for the entire day every day and only seems to cause trouble.

she met valentina at a random birthday party and they clicked veyr quickly, becoming #besties. shes very tall for both her age and being a girl so valen kinda thought she was older, something that aldana was really happy to hear

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Next chapter

a/n look I am wine drunk and I have thoughts. 🤷‍♀️

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was silly truly. You weren’t big fan of parties. You didn’t ever go out really. In the beginning, it was because people didn’t invite you anywhere. You weren’t the cool kid and nerds, well, they aren’t loved all that much through high school. Then you simply outgrow that phase. Life and real responsibilities caught up with you and now you would rather spend your time at home, curled up with a book than drag yourself home from god knows what parts of the city at odd hours.

But this Friday was different. Your friend and her partner were hosting a shared birthday party. And while you could have excused yourself if it was only her boyfriend's party now that she was also celebrating hers, it meant that you didn’t have it in yourself to lie through gritted teeth. So that’s how you found yourself a homemade pie in hand, flowers beneath your armpit as you waited for someone to open the door.

“Y/n”, a loud squeak made a smile break out on your face, “And with your infamous pie. Matt, she brought the pie I told you about”, Emmy turned back, yelling over the corridor. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it”, she clasped your upper arm in excitement, “It’s just been me and the guys, need to balance it out, you know”, she chuckled, ushering you inside.

“Everyone this is Y/n, the best friend!”, Emmy skipped into the kitchen, gesturing to you as if you were the prized possession that had to be shown off. You felt your face heating up immediately. You hated being put in a spotlight like that, yet you managed to give an awkward wave. Trying to listen in to all the names shouted around the room. Letting your eyes fall from face to face carelessly. The chances of meeting these people…

Your gaze halted as you did a double take. Bringing your gaze back to those warm chocolate orbs that looked directly at you. It seemed as if everyone had moved on. Bickering about toppings for pizza. But it’s as if you two had been glued, nether managing to look away. “Matt, the boyfriend”, you blinked a couple of times turning your attention to the side. “So the friend finally meets the infamous man”, you chuckled under your breath, leaning into the side hug he was offering. “She talks loads of you, shame I’m only meeting you now”, Matt smiled at you and you quickly returned the gesture, “Trust me, I know awfully a lot about you too”. “Should I be worried?”, he chuckled, eyes falling on Emmy, fighting her way over cheese by the counter. “No, it’s mostly good stuff”, you shrugged, as you both chuckled to yourselves.

While the evening was fun the more the time passed the more the house turned into a frat party. You glanced at your phone for what felt like a thousand times. The location of your apartment was typed into the Uber app almost an hour ago, making you feel like a shit friend since for the most part all you had been thinking about was going home. That and the brown eyes that had followed you through the night.

“Wine?”, you flinched slightly, locking your phone. “Or are you already going somewhere else?”, startled you turned to the voice behind you, ready to give your best excuse only to feel them all die down at the sight of the same brown eyes. You simply turned your glass towards him, while trying to come up with anything proper to say.

“I’m Noah by the way”, he mused tilting the bottle to fill up your glass once more. “Yn”, you muttered. “Oh, I remember”, he smiled up at you, making your cheeks turn crimson even more. “Sorry, just so many people and faces, I’m awful with names”, you whined giving him an apologetic smile. Noah simply shook his head, “Trust me, it’s almost refreshing”. You let his words wash over you as you both fall into silence once more.

“So… Where were you planning to run off to and can I join?”, Noah’s words took by surprise as you turned to him once more. A light chuckle slipped past your lips, “I was planning on going home”, you admitted with a little shrug. “Matt’s cooking not to your liking?”, his words instantly sent panic running through your veins. “Oh, no, no, it was so good. Emmy talks about his food so much and…”, you instantly felt like defending yourself, “Hey, I’m only joking”, Noah cut in, “I didn’t… Shit did I just get you all worked up over that?”, he ran a hand over his mouth looking at you.

You started at one another for a while before both falling into fits of laughter. “Sorry, shit, it’s been a while”, Noah shook his head. “No, it’s fine, I’m too introverted for this”, you brushed him off, reaching for your glass. “Can I be honest?”, Noah asked, stepping closer so he could stand beside you. You simply nodded, watching him take a sip out of the bottle. “I haven’t been able to look away from you”, he admitted, “Sounds so fucking childish but… There’s something about you”, Noah mussed turning to look at you once again. “Maybe it’s the wine?”, you shrugged, trying to not let his words make your heartbeat pick up. “I was dead ass sober when I first saw you, sweetheart”, he muttered, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you tried to keep that smile at bay. His fingers carefully caressed your jaw before brushing over the bottom of your lip. “You would never like me sober”, you mussed pulling back. “And how would you know that?”, he pushed on, determined to keep you close. “I’m nothing like Emmy”, you pointed out, glancing back towards the kitchen where people were dancing around the counter. “Who said that I like girls like Emmy?”, Noah’s words made a shiver run down your back. “Guys always choose girls like her over girls like me”, you chuckled, taking an eager gulp of the wine in your glass. The last thing you needed was to unload years of insecurities onto a stranger.

“Funny, girls only started looking at me now, I was never the first choice”, Noah shrugged making you glance back at him. “Yeah, right”, you snorted, not able to imagine a universe where someone would pass an opportunity to date someone like him. “A strange nerd with a lisp doesn’t rank highly, darling”, he grunted making you frown, “Don’t say that about yourself”, you argued back. “Ah… But you can put yourself down?”, he smirked back at you with that knowing grin.

“Fine, we both are weird. Happy now?”, you shook your head. “Would be happier if you would go on a date with me”, Noah’s words sent another cold shower down your back. You watched him for a heartbeat. He looked like a lover boy. A black hoodie, sweet eyes. That smile. Only the tattoos covering his hands indicated a more dangerous side of him. The side you had a feeling would pull you under. “Very funny, but I’m not falling for this”, you shot him a tight smile, reminding yourself that there wasn’t a universe where a guy like him would fall for a girl like you. “You don’t know me, yet you are putting labels on me”, his hand wrapped around your upper arm as he made you halt in your tracks, “you wound me, sweetheart”, Noah muttered, leaning in.

“And who’s worried about how much you will wound me?”, your words seemed to sober him up in an instant. A frown replaced a smile that was previously there. “Why would I…”, he breathed out. “Thank you for the wine”, you lift your glass slightly towards him, “And for the chat. Tell Matt he’s a wonderful cook”, you cheered him, clicking your glass with the bottle in his hand before turning away from him. Heart beating so fast in your chest, it was making you dizzy.

“Hold on, YN”, you heard his voice as you moved across the room, avoiding contact with people. Quickly lowering your glass onto the nearest table before heading towards the door. You couldn’t look back even if everything in your body screamed for you to. Noah’s voice hunted you till you slipped outside, hurrying towards the gate, hands quickly looking for the first possible Uber.

[thelovelylolly]

Silver Screen Sweetheart

Summary : You were just his co-star, even if you both wanted to be more, and he thought he lost you to the wasteland. - Warnings : we got some angst, we got some yearning, we got reunions, all your favs, fem! reader (she/her pronouns used), mentions of drinking, canon-typical violence, not rlly proof read (let me know if i missed anything :)) - Word count : 1.17k - Notes : i know i havent posted an original fic in a while, but why not bring them back with cooper howard bc I LOVE COOPER HOWARD AND FALLOUT RAHHHHH this is basically the storyline of my fallout oc lol (also, divider by @saradika-graphics they're so good)

Cooper Howard wasn't supposed to live this long, especially after the bombs dropped. He was a man with a long history. He had fought in a war, became a movie star, got married and had a daughter, became the inspiration for the poster-boy of the company selling the end of the world, divorced is wife, lost his family, became deformed from the radiation. He could go on and on about his past.

However, there was one part he always skipped around.

His old co-star, you.

You walked into his life one sunny afternoon, and he didn't know it then, but it was the start of something he shouldn't want. You were his co-star and played the love interest in one of his movies. Your chemistry on-screen together was amazing, causing fans to want you to return and you quickly became a staple in Cooper Howard movies.

Then, the chemistry bled into real life.

You both knew it, but you both refused to acknowledge it. Cooper was married, and you were a rising star. He couldn't risk his wife and family, you couldn't risk ruining your budding career. So, you danced around each other. Your on-screen characters were the only time you two could lean into the feelings you had, but it was pretend. Acting.

Still, the two of you were close friends off set, so it wasn't uncommon for you two to be spotted together. He'd invite you over for dinner with his wife and daughter, you'd invite him to a party with other movie stars. Everything was simple, easy. It was good.

But all good things must come to an end.

Cooper didn't know where you were when the bombs dropped. He had seen you the night before. He came over to your house for drinks, something he started to do more often now that the divorce was settled and he saw his daughter every other week.

"What are you up to tomorrow?" You had asked.

"I'm picking up Janey, then we're going to a birthday party. Got hired to do some tricks and stuff for the birthday boy."

"Sounds more exciting than what I have on the agenda. My agent wants to talk to me about doing ads, like you and Vault-Tec."

"Want some advice?"

You nodded.

"Don't."

Maybe you had gotten to a vault, or maybe you weren't that lucky. The only thing that helped Cooper with the loss of you was one thought: you wouldn't see him as the deformed ghoul he became.

Cooper's bounty was allusive and turned a usual 2-day hunt in 5. He was getting tired and fed up, rudely asking anyone he came across for directions before shooting them and taking anything of value. One person gave him directions to a small home and said that the person living there had plenty of information and supplies.

Cooper thought 'what the hell' and set off, grabbing a few bottles of chems from the person's dead body.

He found the house pretty easily, having the only green grass and lush trees in the dusty desert around. He readied his pistol at his side as he started to approach the house. He took a few steps onto the property before stepping onto a trap and getting caught up in a net that was hung on the tree.

"Shit!" He hissed, trying to figure away out in the cramped area. He lost his grip on his pistol and he couldn't reach for his knife, leaving him helpless until someone could find him and cut him down.

A horse's neigh caused him to look up where the house was, only to see a person on a sleek, black horse riding towards him. They pulled the horse's reigns and stopped a few feet away from Cooper and got off, a shotgun in hand.

"If I get you down, you gonna shoot me?" The person asked, a feminine voice coming through a black bandana obscuring half of her face. The black hat sitting on top of her head obscured her hair and shaded her face from the beating sun.

"No promises," Cooper replied, grunting as he struggled against the rope net.

"Then I can just leave-"

"I just need some information, I heard you were the person to come to," Cooper quickly cut her off, "I'll leave after that."

He was good at lying. He was an actor after all, as soon as he got what he wanted, he'd raid this woman's home and leave.

The woman in front of him tilted her head to the side for a moment, then raised her shotgun and shot the rope holding Cooper up. He hit the ground with a thud, but quickly untangled himself from the rope. He pushed himself to his feet, but before he could reach for any of his weapons, a lasso was wrapped around him and pulled tight.

"What the hell-"

"Shut it," she said sharply, "I know what kind of a person you are. I know what you really want, many have tried and failed."

Cooper laughed dryly. "Really, sweetheart? You think a little rope would stop me?"

The woman studied him for a moment, her eyes fixed on his face. He didn't know what she was looking for, the radiation took away most of his features.

"Cooper...?" The woman asked after a few moments, shocking him. He opened his mouth to answer, but any words he had were lost as she took off her hat and pulled the bandana down.

You. You were still alive, you still looked like how you did centuries ago. Of course you recognized him, only you could tell it was him after all the radiation and harsh conditions of the wasteland.

His said your name weakly, not believing that you were standing in front of him. He thought he lost you, he thought you were dead from the bombs or lived the rest of your life in a vault. "How are you here?" He asked.

"They froze me in my vault, woke up a few centuries later, and left," you answered, stepping closer but not letting go of the lasso. "I'm surprised you haven't gone feral."

He smiled, the same classic smile that had given you butterflies all those years ago. "I figured out how to survive up here, seems like you have, too."

You nodded, glancing over your shoulder at your home. You looked back at him and stepped closer, pulling the lasso off and hooking it onto the side of your belt. You looked up and met his gaze, noting how close you two were.

"Would you like to stay for a bit?" You asked.

Cooper thought back to his bounty, how long he'd spent chasing this guy and how much he was worth. But seeing you alive and well, not appalled by his appearance, was worth so much more than any stupid bounty.

He reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. "Sure would, darling."

You smiled and turned, grabbing your horse's reigns before leading Cooper towards your home.

[chronicangel]

Pacifica Northwest's Sweet Sixteen

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 4169 Date posted: October 17, 2024

Summary:

You are invited to the greatest party of the century!

When Pacifica wakes up, it’s still dark out.

She reaches over instinctively to turn off her alarm before she realizes that her alarm isn’t going off, and then she just stares up at the silk canopy over her bed. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember it. That’s good, she thinks. It’s always harder to get back to sleep when she remembers them.

She picks up her phone to squint at the time. 5:03 AM. Happy birthday to me, she thinks, rolling her eyes. She’d check her social media, but it’s too early for any of the other people who actually care about her birthday to have said anything to her, and she doesn’t want to scroll through all of the pictures of happy families and families pretending to be happy for the holiday. She’s going to get plenty of that at home today, she thinks.

As much as she’d begged and pleaded for Susan to let her work today, her boss had rightfully pointed out that even if the diner wasn’t closed for the day to give all of the other employees time off with their families, they wouldn’t have any customers. No escaping her parents, then. They probably wouldn’t have reacted well if she tried to skip their party, anyway.

You are invited to the greatest party of the century! Celebrate Gravity Falls’ own winter miracle with us once again at the annual Northwest Winter Gala, Christmas and a birthday all wrapped into one. This year’s theme: Sweet 16. Colors are champagne, lavender, and the Canadian dollar. Gifts are mandatory.

She wanted to puke when her mother handed her the invites along with the guest list and told her the envelopes had to be in her handwriting as if she’d had any choice in who was coming.

She gives up on getting back to sleep. It was stupid to think she’d be able to in the first place. She almost never can, and her birthday is an especially miserable occasion. She still remembers when Mom used to wake her up at midnight with a slice of chocolate cake that she was absolutely not allowed to eat in bed, back when her parents still pretended to like her.

Despite the drafts of snow she can see through her bedroom window, her room is nice and toasty when she throws the blankets off. She used to have her own fireplace. It was probably a safety hazard, but she liked sitting in front of it to read on late winter nights.

She glares at her closet. The dress her mother has picked for her this evening looks like the middle step between a wedding dress and the sort of dress you stuff a toddler into for Easter pictures. She hates it, but she knows not wearing it will be a bigger issue than it’s worth.

For now, she skips right past it to put on winter clothes instead. Fleece-lined leggings, fluffy socks made from alpaca wool imported from Peru, a turtleneck that had been knitted for her by the Austrian prince’s grandmother, and a coat she bought with her own money during their last ski trip to the Alps make up the basics of her outfit, and by the time she gets downstairs and to the front door, they’re joined by a scarf that feels like running water in her hands and luxury brand hiking boots made from shell cordovan.

There’s something so refreshing about the gust of cold air that hits her face when she steps outside, immediately whipping her bangs into her eyes. It is not a still or quiet morning in Gravity Falls. After they had lost the mansion, they moved into a new one in the closest thing Gravity Falls has to “the suburbs,” and there is no big hill or private patch of forest to block the wind from biting at her nose and fingertips. She sucks in a deep breath of it and watches it fog up in front of her as she exhales.

Maybe it’s because she’s a winter baby, but she’s always found the cold weather so grounding. When her boots sink into the snow and it threatens to pour over the top against her socks, that’s when the world feels the most real.

The woods are never far in Gravity Falls even if your family doesn’t own their own private portion of the forest, and when every other scent has been crowded out by pine and the snow is in a thinner layer on the ground because it has too many tree branches to get through to pile up, that’s when she really relaxes. She thinks she can’t have been walking for more than twenty or thirty minutes, and a quick glance at her phone confirms it. Her hair isn’t being thrown around by the wind anymore, safe within the barrier of the trees, but the damage has already been done. She can practically hear her mom’s temper tantrum about what a tangled mess it is, but that’s a problem for later. This moment, right now? This is just for her.

She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. There’s a richer smell to the forest with her eyes closed. Snow doesn’t smell exactly like rain, but there’s a hint of that earthy smell, wet trees and wet grass and wet dirt all drinking up whatever they can before they freeze solid. She walks until she finds a place to sit down, a knocked-over log that’s frozen over with just a little bit of snow, and she figures it’s not a big deal if her pants get wet because she has to change before the party anyway. Mom and Dad aren’t going to like it, she thinks, but rather than the anxiety that would have gnawed at her only a few years ago at that idea, it only brings a smile to her lips. The only thing that would make this moment better is a cup of coffee.

She doesn’t know how long she just sits there like that, soaking in the peace of a winter morning. She thinks the snow must have stopped, because there aren’t even stray flurries rushing between branches anymore. Her fingers are bright red, and she can barely feel them. She should have put gloves on before she left.

Eventually, she sees the sun starting to peek over the tops of the trees, casting a golden glow on the whole forest. More than that—the snow on the ground reflects the light in a gleaming rainbow that shimmers over the entire ground. She picks her phone up to take a picture, and once she’s snapped a few that she likes, her eyes catch on a few notifications.

Mabel Pines 🌟: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! 🩷💜💙💖💖💫🌠🦙🌲🎄Mabel Pines 🌟: omg i still cannot beLIEVE that your birthday is CHRISTMASWendy Corduroy : happy birthday, dude! hope your family is less terrible this year.Dipper 💙: Happy Birthday, Paz. I’ll call you later, ok?

She snorts. Dipper texts like such a middle-aged dad. Still, as she goes through replying to them, she tells him that she’s looking forward to it.

And she is. Even though the twins haven’t visited Gravity Falls in-person since that summer when they were 12, they’ve been a near-constant presence in her life since then. She calls Dipper in the middle of the night when she has nightmares and can’t get back to sleep (and he never seems to be able to get to sleep in the first place), she and Mabel send each other at least fifty selfies with a million filters each per day, and she jokes about running away to see them in Piedmont at least twice a week most weeks.

She hadn’t even realized that she was smiling until it drops when her mother’s caller ID pops up on the screen, and she answers before it even has the opportunity to ring and disrupt the serenity of the forest. “Where are you?” Her mother practically shrieks on the other end of the line. “We told you that we were doing birthday breakfast promptly at eight o’clock.”

Pacifica pulls the phone away from her ear to check the time and winces. It’s almost 7:45. There’s no way she’ll be able to get back to the house by eight. “Sorry, Mom,” she says when she presses the phone back to her ear, not feeling very sorry at all. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Doing what?” Priscilla demands. Before Pacifica has the opportunity to answer, though, she continues, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Just get your ass back here, young lady.”

It’s always bad when Mom swears. Priscilla Northwest insists that swearing is improper and unattractive, and that if you can’t get your point across without harsh language, you’re too dim-witted for high society. Pacifica thinks that most people think she and her mother are too dim-witted for high society anyway, and that if she cares so much about seeming intelligent, she probably should have spent the years curating a different image.

“Okay,” she says simply. She doesn’t apologize again before hanging up, just presses the button and hops to her feet. The cold has sunk into her bones by now, even through all of that expensive winter clothing, and it takes closer to an hour to get back to the house. It’s hard for her to feel very apologetic, though, when her mother immediately starts fussing about how dirty her clothes are and how tangled her hair is and not the almost blue color of her fingertips.

It takes hours to get ready for the party, and she doesn’t know where all of the time even goes. Hair, makeup, clothes, decorations, food, all of these things were settled so far in advance, so how can it still take until almost noon to get it all in order? By the time of the party, Pacifica is so tired she can barely muster up the energy to smile at the right people and make the right kinds of small talk. She’s sure it hardly helps that she doesn’t even like most of these people, and the few she does like don’t really like her back.

By the time dinner is being served (each attendee gets their own roasted quail and a side of rice pilaf), the only thing she wants to do is run away and hide in her room. She does the next best thing: lounging on a chaise in the parlor her parents keep their still-lightly-mud-stained white rug in when they have guests over, where people are strictly forbidden to enter, scrolling through Tittat videos on her phone. When she hears the door creak open, she knows it must be one of her parents, and she’s not sure which one she wants to see less.

“I have something for you,” her mother’s voice says, and Pacifca doesn’t really have to fight not to cringe because she’s been suppressing it her whole life, but she still feels something curl up unpleasantly inside her. Great, so I have to pretend to be grateful now.

“Mom, I thought that we were doing presents after dessert,” she says, as though it’s actually possible Priscilla forgot her overstuffed itinerary for the night.

“Well, I can’t give you this one in front of everyone else,” Priscilla huffs, and that only makes Pacifica’s dread grow. When her mother sits at the foot of the chaise, she holds out a wine glass, and Pacifica stares. “I want you to meet my friend Chardonnay.”

“Mom, I’m turning sixteen. I’m still not old enough to drink.”

Priscilla rolls her eyes. “Oh hush. I’m doing something nice for you.”

Pacifica doesn’t exactly know how giving her a glass of wine is doing something nice for her, but she knows better than to argue at this point. She takes the glass and takes a tentative sip. She doesn’t have any of the fancy adjectives to describe a very expensive glass of wine. She doesn’t know anything about tannins or acidity or barrel aging or whatever.

It’s bitter. She can’t completely stop herself from cringing, and Priscilla laughs at her. “Yep, I remember that. It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Pacifica stares again. Her mother gave her bad wine on purpose? “You get used to it, eventually. You’re going to have to, being a member of this family. It’s the only way to get through these awful parties.”

“You don’t like the parties?”

Her mother laughs again, and there’s a bitter note there that she hardly recognizes. “Goodness no. Does anyone?” Pacifica’s brows pinch together. Then why do we keep having them? She wants to ask. “Sweetheart, I know being a Northwest isn’t easy. When I first married your father, I was petrified by all of the… rules and systems. I was sure I’d never be able to learn all of it.”

Priscilla stares down into her own glass of wine, and Pacifica watches her face. There’s a slight flush to her cheeks and nose that Pacifica is familiar with after a lifetime of exposure. She must be drunk already, which is impressive, because her father strictly forbids cracking the wine open before dinner at parties. Day-drinking is a private pastime, something Pacifica supposes isn’t classy enough to be associated with the Northwests.

“But it’s for our own good, right? These are the things that we have to do to maintain our lifestyle. And isn’t that worth it?” This is not a light Pacifica has ever seen her mother in before. Never before in her life has she ever been given any reason to think that Priscilla might resent all of the conventions they’ve been forced into as much as Pacifica does. You just don’t get it, she’d told Dipper once, and maybe she doesn’t get it either.

“The day you were born, your father and I still hadn’t chosen a name for you,” her mother says, and if there was some segue into the topic, Pacifica missed it in her introspection. It seems more likely that there wasn’t any. “We knew that we wanted it to start with a ‘P’ because both of our names did. That’s the sort of opportunity that doesn’t come up very often, you know. We figured early on that you would be our only child, so we might as well make you stand out, right? But it was almost impossible to find a name suitably dramatic. And then you were born on Christmas and everything was so hectic, and we worried you were going to end up with no name at all.”

Pacifica settles back against the chaise and takes another sip from her wine, and she manages to ignore the taste for how interested she is in her mother’s story. “They put you in my arms and you immediately started crying, and I thought, ‘Great, she already hates me.’” She laughs, but there’s an edge to it, something that jabs painfully at Pacifica’s chest. “But after a minute you calmed down, and then you looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I thought they looked just like the ocean. ‘The Pacific ocean,’ I thought, and then I grinned at your father. Pacifica Northwest. It sounded like an actress’ name. It was perfect.”

They stare at each other for a long, silent minute, and Pacifica’s brows furrow. What was the point of telling her this? Was there any point, or is it just some of Mom’s drunken rambling? Priscilla reaches out to grab a strand of her hair and opens her mouth to talk some more, but she’s cut off by Pacifica’s phone ringing, and Pacifica startles to angle the phone so the screen isn’t visible because she knows exactly who’s calling and her mother does not need to see. “I’ll let you get that. Cake in 30 minutes, okay sweetheart?”

“Okay,” she agrees, and her heart pounds with anxiety that she’s going to miss the call while she waits for Mom to leave the room before she answers. She almost drops the phone in her rush to finally hit the green button.

“Hey!” Dipper’s voice comes through a little tinny, which is a quality that Pacifica is used to when talking on the phone to anyone outside of Gravity Falls. She doesn’t know if there’s a scientific explanation, but it always feels like the rest of the world is just… dulled.

“Hey,” she says back, and whatever clawing sense of anxiety or discomfort had been lingering in her chest since Mom came into the room finally dissipates. “You’re early, I’m gonna have to go for cake and presents soon.”

“Your parents are giving you cake and presents?”

She snorts, bringing her hand up like she can catch the noise before it reaches him. “There’s still a whole party of people here to convince that we’re a happy family.”

“Ah, that explains it then,” he says, and she can hear the grin on his voice. He needs to get with the times and get a uPhone so she can see his face without going all the way upstairs to get on her computer. “So you don’t know which kind of sports car they got you yet?”

She laughs again as she hops up to her feet and starts the trek back to her room. “Oh please. They’re not going to get me a car. That’d be too much freedom. They couldn’t threaten not to let the chauffeur drive me to work anymore.” She rolls her eyes.

“They have to get you a car. It’s the whole sweet 16 package: Big fancy party with your big fancy dress, a bunch of bratty rich girls you can’t stand, and some luxury vehicle that costs more than my house. If they don’t get you a car, they don’t sell it.”

“Oh shut up,” she laughs, bedroom door swinging shut behind her. She glances at her bed for a second, but if she lays down, she’s not going to get up again, and as nice as the idea of falling asleep talking to Dipper sounds, there’s still the rest of the party to get through. As she sinks into her desk chair, she sighs and says, “Did you do anything for the holiday?”

“Oh, you mean Just Some Friday Day? Yeah, we got Chinese food and watched cheesy romcoms. I guess it’s sort of a stereotype, but I think that’s kind of why we do it in the first place? It’s hard to explain.”

“Just Some Friday Day, huh? Wow, so I mean nothing to you.” He practically cackles on the other end, and she grins.

“Right, how could I forget the most important holiday, Pacifica Northwest’s Birthday? That’s why all the banks were closed.”

“Damn straight. What would they even need to be open for? All of the people with money are in my living room.” Another laugh. She sinks back in the chair, pressing the power button on her desktop with her toes as she asks, “Can I call you on DistantChat?”

“Is that such a good idea with your parents still prowling around downstairs?” He asks, with a legitimate tinge of worry to his voice. “I mean, you know I always like seeing you, but I don’t wanna get you in trouble or anything.”

“Oh come on. It’s my birthday, they can’t yell at me for calling a friend. Plus, there’s too many people still here for them to yell at me.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, and then, “...Okay. Let me get my laptop.”

It takes a minute for him to get everything set up, and they stay on the phone while he does even though it’s mostly Dipper mumbling to himself and the rustling of pieces of paper on his desk. When he calls her, he’s in bed, and he’s not wearing that stupid hat for once, so she can see peeks of his birthmark through his fringe.

“You need a haircut,” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth, without any input from her on the matter, and he laughs.

“You sound like Grunkle Stan. That was the first thing he said when we picked him and Great Uncle Ford up at the docks for Channukah. Kid, you need a haircut.” His impression of his uncle is terrible, and it makes her laugh, throwing her head back and her hand over her mouth.

When she’s done, his cheeks are a little flushed, but she can’t really call him out on it because her cheeks are a little flushed, too, so they sit in silence for a minute. “I like the dress,” he says eventually.

The camera quality of the call isn’t great. In the video, the delicate white lace that makes it look as though there are flowers painted directly onto her chest and shoulders just look like blurry polka dots (where they’re even visible), and the lace stops being visible completely at the sweetheart neckline of the bodice portion of the dress. Not only that, but from the angle of the camera, the silky lavender band around her waist isn’t even visible, nor is the princess-style skirt that fluffs out down her body in an A-line that could give Princess Diana’s wedding dress a run for its money if it wasn’t only tea length. But, more importantly…

“Ugh, this? My mom picked it.”

“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, your mom was right. It looks really good on you,” he says, and she sees his cheeks flush a little darker. Again, not that she can say anything.

“...Thanks.” She still doesn’t love the dress, still wishes Mom had let her buy the hot pink one that was half the price, but it’s nice that Dipper likes it. She wants him to like her clothes.

They return to silence, and she thinks of all the things she’d like to say. She wants to joke that he should see how much better it’d look off of her. She wants to ask him what he got her for her birthday just to see his little panicked reaction. She wants to ask him if she can run away to his house in Piedmont and never come back.

Instead, she just watches his face. He always looks so tired these days, and she wonders if he ever sleeps at all if she’s not on the phone with him. She knows that sometimes he doesn’t get to sleep even when she is on the phone with him. Sometimes she wakes up and the time is still ticking on the call and he seems startled when she mumbles good morning.

“Pacifica!” Mom’s voice calls up the stairs, and she almost jumps out of her skin. “It’s time for the cake and the presents, dear,” she says, and the pet name makes her wrinkle her nose.

“I have to go,” she says. She’d rather do anything in the world than hang up, and she thinks it shows, because Dipper looks more than a little guilty.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just sit here staring at you,” he says, and if she didn’t have to go she’d probably tease him for it. “Let me know what kind of car you get. I bet it’ll be an Edison. Your dad is just like that guy.”

She laughs. “Can I call you again later? Like, for bed or… something?” She asks, speaking quickly so he can’t hear the desperation in her voice.

“Of course,” he says without even a second of hesitation, and it makes her chest squeeze with fondness.

She ends the call without saying goodbye. She usually does. She hates saying goodbye, and it’s not like she won’t talk to him later, anyway. Still, she lingers at her desk for an extra second after the call is over like she’s waiting for him to call her back and scold her for it or something. She knows that he won’t. Even though they joke a lot about how terrible she used to be, Dipper rarely takes it upon himself to correct her for her social missteps, not unless she directly hurts him or Mabel by it.

Her eyes slide down to her desk drawer, and with a paranoid glance at her door, she pulls it open.

Emancipation papers.

Printing them out had marked her very first use of the Gravity Falls Library, a service her parents believed was for poor people. Once they’re filed, she guesses that’ll be her. It’d be nice if they bought me a car before I was out of here.

“Pacifica! What are you doing up there? You’re keeping everyone waiting.”

She shoves the drawer closed and trudges back downstairs.

They don’t get her a car. Giving her that much control over her own life would be against the rules, wouldn’t it? But when she calls Dipper later that night, he assures her that she’s welcome to use his car whenever she wants once she gets out of there, and she knows that he means it.