#AND THEN HE SAID ALRIGHT LIKE A GOOD BOY!
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my-castles-crumbling · 3 days ago
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crush - November 23 - wolfstar raising harry - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 277
"...and Ron said that it's stupid to like people but I don't think so," Harry was prattling on, avoiding the homework his first grade teacher had assigned that evening. "I mean...I can have a crush if I want to, right?"
Sirius thought about that for moment, wishing, not for the first time that day, that James and Lily were still there. "You can have a crush on whoever you want, Prongslet," he nodded, giving the boy a smile. "You just have to make sure, when you're older and you want to do something about your crushes, that the other person is okay with it. Alright?"
Harry nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, though, his demeanor changed. "Pads, you have a crush, don't you?" he asked, smiling a knowing smile, as if he'd found out one of Sirius's biggest secrets.
Very curious as to where this was going, Sirius pretended to gasp in surprise, placing a hand on his chest. "I have no idea what you mean! Who do you think I could possibly have a crush on?"
But Harry just giggled, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm not stupid, Pads, I'm six. I know you have a crush on Moony. You get all smiley around him. And guess what?"
Resisting the urge to melt with Harry's statement, Sirius just lowered his voice as well, whispering conspiratorially, "What?"
"I think he has a crush on you, too!" Harry said, eyes wide.
"I...that's good to know, Haz. Thanks for being my wingman," Sirius laughed, patting his godson on the shoulder.
He couldn't to tell his husband later that apparently, they were very obvious about their crushes on each other.
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error-523scintilla · 2 days ago
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As a bisexual woman from and living in Panamá, if someone proudly said out loud they’re an ally I would shed tears of happiness, considering that the default here is Not Being One. Actively someone reminding us we are loved and worth standing with even if technically Not Their Problem, opening themselves to criticism from most of the population, taking the risk, is such a sweet and impactful thing to do. We are few of the countries still not having equal marriage rights, and the piece of shit that our Monseñor is, having an iron fist grip in our politics, it won’t happen soon. So someone from outside the community actively saying they love us is such a beautiful show of love to us here.
When I do tutoring as a side gig with young boys and teenage guys, and they talk to me about stuff they see online, and repeat some mysoginistic bullshit they learnt online, I concerned but patiently ask them what they mean by that. When explaining it out loud I may answer with ‘that’s so mean why would anyone say that about a girl’ with a preoccupied face, and now seeing their favorite funny math teacher looking hurt makes them think ‘wait maybe this is kind of wrong and fucked up actually’. Before that moment, have they ever stopped to think how that was wrong, when all their pals normalize the same thought process? Isn’t that what mysoginistic men online prey on for them to not find out until it explodes on their faces? And now they see their loved tutor, who’s a woman, be affected by those kind of comments when they don’t feel I fit the rhetoric, and ask how much of that stuff is then actually false. To doubt what they’ve been fed, specially in a society like the one in my country. I plant the seed of doubt, and see it bloom. I gently guide them to a place of good while teaching math.
There was this kid in 5th grade before the pandemic who I saw weekly for a few months who one day proudly told me how he defended a girl in his class, who he even kinda disliked for unrelated reasons to this post, be picked up by some other boys for being a girl or some other bullshit I don’t remember. That the stuff they were saying were mean and false and made no sense. He was so proud of standing up for what he felt was wrong and following what his nice teacher had taught him, and I congratulated him for doing a good job. It made him so so happy to be recognized. He was such a nice kid. I hope he’s doing alright now.
Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo
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theonottsbxtch · 3 days ago
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99 PROBLEMS | MV1
an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy
summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.
wc: 3.3k
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Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.
One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.
Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”
“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. “It’s got protein!”
“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.
Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.
“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.
“Like what?” Max said, not looking up from his phone.
“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”
Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”
Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”
And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.
Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.
He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something. 
Max didn’t really know what to do.
The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”
“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.
Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”
Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”
Max laughed. “Touché. So, what do you do for fun then?”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”
Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”
“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”
“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”
Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”
Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”
Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”
“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”
“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.
“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”
Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”
Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”
“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.
Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”
Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.
By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.
On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.
Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.
By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.
Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.
By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.
“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.
Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”
“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”
Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”
Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”
Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”
Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”
“What?”
“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”
Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”
Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”
Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”
Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”
“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”
Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.
He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.
Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.
Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.
“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.
Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”
Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”
Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”
Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”
Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”
Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”
Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”
Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”
Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”
“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”
Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”
“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”
Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.
Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”
Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.
The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.
Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.
“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.
Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”
Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”
Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”
Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.
“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”
“Lesson?”
“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”
Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”
“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.
Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”
Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”
Noah snorted. “Debatable.”
“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”
“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.
“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”
Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.
Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.
Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”
Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”
Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”
“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”
Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”
Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”
“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”
“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”
“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”
Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”
Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.
He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.
Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”
Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.
Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.
The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.
“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”
“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”
Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”
“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.
The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”
From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”
Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”
Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”
Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.
Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”
Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”
“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”
Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”
“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”
Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.
“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”
Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”
“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”
For once, Noah didn’t argue.
the end.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 days ago
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64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part
...
"You doing okay?"
Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.
"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."
"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."
You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."
There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."
"It’s more complicated than that."
"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."
He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.
He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"
"I can't go back."
"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"
"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."
"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."
You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.
"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"
"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."
You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."
You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"
"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"
"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."
"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."
"I did my job."
"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."
You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.
"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"
You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.
"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"
Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."
"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."
"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."
"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.
You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.
"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."
Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.
"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"
"I made a mistake," you mutter.
That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."
"What?"
"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”
“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”
“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."
You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."
"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."
"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."
He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."
"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."
That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."
"You owe me," you remind him.
"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"
You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."
Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."
"Like who? You?"
"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."
You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.
Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.
"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."
You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.
You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."
"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."
"Then what do you suggest?"
His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.
Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."
"But..."
"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."
Can't argue with that.
He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.
You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.
You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.
Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.
He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.
He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.
You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.
Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.
"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."
He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.
You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.
"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."
You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.
"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."
Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.
But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.
He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."
You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.
He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.
With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."
"Quit what?"
"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."
Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."
Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."
"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."
He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.
You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.
He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.
"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"
You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."
"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."
You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"
"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."
You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"
"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."
You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."
"And what about you? Do I get to know?"
"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."
"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."
"I shouldn't," you mutter.
Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."
You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"
"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."
"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.
"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."
Another shiver wracks your body.
Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."
His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."
"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.
"Soap here."
You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.
Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"
"How long do we have?"
"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."
You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.
He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.
He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.
"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."
You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."
Then you kiss him again.
...
← previous part / [part 13] / epilogue →
part 1 / more Soap / masterlist
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4linos · 2 days ago
Text
asking skz to tie a ribbon around their bicep
ot8 stray kids x gn!reader
request: Asking the ot8 boys to tie a ribbon around their biceps
wc: 4172 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
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a/n: not proofread 🙂‍↔️.
bang chan
You were at the gym, watching Chan move through his usual routine. His biceps were flexing with each rep, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort he put into his workout. Your eyes kept drifting back to his muscles, and an idea popped into your head—a mischievous one.
You walked up to him after he finished his set, smiling innocently. “Hey, babe, could you do something for me?”
Chan looked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his face already breaking into a smile at the sight of you. “Sure, anything. What’s up?”
You leaned in slightly, “Could you tie a ribbon around your bicep for me? Just for fun.”
Chan blinked at you in surprise, then chuckled. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?”
You nodded, your grin widening. “Yeah, just for me. I think it’d look cute. Please?”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, but the smirk on his face said it all—he wasn’t going to say no. “You’re a weirdo, but alright. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
He put the little, decorative ribbon you brought with you around his bicep, making sure it was snug but not too tight. The cheeky sparkle in his eyes caused you to laugh out loud when he turned to face you once more. "You think this is cute enough?" Chan asked, flaunting the ribbon and flexing his arm. "Perfect," you replied, smiling softly as you reached out to gently adjust it. "Everything looks good because of you." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead as his smile softened. "I'll wear a ribbon every day as long as it brings you joy."
You laughed, grateful for how far he’d go to indulge your silly requests.
lee know
On a relaxing afternoon, you and Minho were relaxing at home while you sat cross-legged on the couch and browsed through your phone to the soothing sounds of some music. Minho was at ease as he laid beside you with his arm slung across the back of the couch. You gave him a quick glance as a lighthearted thought occurred to you. You had always liked his biceps, but today you wanted to see them in a completely new way—in a cutesy yet ridiculous way. You quickly placed your phone down and smiled as you turned to face him.
With a hint of mischief in your tone, you said, "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Minho arched an eyebrow, obviously interested but unsure of the direction of this. "What is it?" Reaching over, you placed a little, colorful ribbon you had previously picked up on the side table. It was the perfect size and a gentle pastel tint. Your smile grew as you extended it to him. "Could you tie this around your bicep for me?" Minho looked at you for a time, blinking, as though he was trying to tell if you were kidding. "A ribbon? "Around my arm?" he asked, appearing both genuinely perplexed and amused by the request.
"Yeah," you said, giggling a little. "I think it'd look cute. Just for fun. Please?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You're so random." But his smile grew, and he took the ribbon from you, clearly willing to indulge you. As he looped it around his bicep, you couldn't help but watch as his muscles flexed slightly under the motion, making your heart skip a beat.
Once it was tied, Minho looked at you, flexing his arm with a smirk. “Happy now?”
You leaned forward, pretending to inspect it, your finger gently adjusting the bow. "Absolutely. You look... ridiculously good. Like a gift wrapped just for me."
He rolled his eyes, clearly entertained. "You're weird," he said with a smile, but you could see the fondness in his eyes.
"You know you love it," you teased, reaching over to give his arm a playful squeeze, feeling the strength beneath your fingers.
Minho smiled, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair. “I really do,” he said, clearly amused by how something so simple could make you so happy.
"Good," you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re the best, Min. Thanks for letting me make you a walking present."
He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.
changbin
It was a quiet night at home, and you and Changbin were spending time on the couch while the soft glow of the living room lights created a cozy atmosphere. He was leaning back, his muscles flexing slightly with each movement, while you were snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder, lazily scrolling through your phone. His biceps, which are well-defined and strong because of the amount of work he puts into his workouts, caught your eye as you looked at him absently. You admired his muscularity, but you couldn't get a silly idea out of your head today.
You turned to him, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face. "Hey, Bin," you said, glancing up from your phone.
He looked down at you with an amused expression. "What’s up?"
You hesitated for just a second, then pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, its soft pastel color standing out against the more neutral tones of the room. "Can you do me a favor?"
Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the sudden request. “What kind of favor?”
You held the ribbon out toward him with a teasing grin. “Could you tie this around your bicep for me? Just for fun. I think it’ll look cute.”
He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?” His voice was a mix of confusion and amusement, though you could already tell he wasn’t going to say no.
You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I think it’ll look cute. Just once, please?”
Changbin let out a small laugh, shaking his head at your quirky request but not even hesitating to take the ribbon from your hand. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “But okay, for you.”
He gently wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the contrast of the soft fabric against his muscular arm making your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire how even something so simple looked so good on him. Once it was secured, he flexed his arm slightly, looking down at it with a smirk.
"Well?" Changbin asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How do I look?"
You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. “You look... ridiculously good,” you said, your voice dripping with affection. “Like some kind of strong, tough guy, but also a little bit of a sweetheart with a ribbon around your arm.”
At your lighthearted remark, he shook his head and laughed. With the ribbon still precisely positioned on his arm, he drew you close to him and added, "I'm glad I can make you happy." You were happy with the small moment as you leaned toward him and put your head against his chest. You smiled to yourself and whispered, "You always do." "You're perfect." Changbin laughed quietly and kissed your forehead.
hyunjin
It was a sunny afternoon, and you and Hyunjin were strolling through a small outdoor market, taking in the sights and smells of the various stalls. You were looking at the colorful displays, the light breeze adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Hyunjin walked beside you, his relaxed stride matching the laid-back vibe of the day, his sleeves rolled up casually, showing off his sculpted arms.
You were walking past a stand with fabric and ribbons when you noticed one that stood out as especially delicate—it was a gentle pastel pink. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to Hyunjin and smiled nonchalantly as an idea struck you. You said, "Hey, Hyun," as you gazed up at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes. He looked down at you, looking at you with interest. "Yeah?" While holding out the ribbon, you said, "Can you do me a favor?"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What kind of favor?"
With a teasing smile, you held the ribbon out toward him. "Could you tie this around your bicep? Just for fun," you said, your voice light and playful.
Hyunjin stopped walking for a moment, blinking at you in surprise. "A ribbon? Around my arm?" He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the randomness of the request. "Are you serious?"
You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your excitement. "Yep! I think it'd look cute. Come on, please?"
Hyunjin stopped for a moment, then shook his head while continuing to laugh. He said, "You’re really something," but his smile made it clear he wasn't going to turn you down. Taking the ribbon from your hand, he easily tied it around his bicep, his biceps rippling slightly as you both walked ahead. He arched an eyebrow at you as he straightened up and flexed his arm after tying it. With a teasing grin tugging at his lips, he asked, "How do I look?"
When you saw him with the delicate ribbon against his muscular arm, you couldn't help but giggle. Your heart skipped a beat at how incredibly good he looked. "You look... like a model who’s ready to break hearts and steal ribbons," you taunted. Clearly pleased with himself, Hyunjin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he added, emphasizing with his arm still flexed. "Anything for you, I guess." You bent over and kissed him on the cheek. You muttered, "You're the best," appreciating how he always gave in to your silly requests.
HAN
It was a breezy afternoon, and you and Jisung were taking a stroll through a local park, enjoying the calm atmosphere. The trees were swaying gently in the wind, and the sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the peaceful background noise of nature.
As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Jisung had rolled up his sleeves earlier, revealing his toned biceps. Every time he moved, you couldn’t help but admire how strong he looked, his muscles subtly flexing.
An idea popped into your head, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You decided to have a little fun.
"Hey, Ji," you said, turning to him with a teasing grin.
He glanced over at you with that signature cocky smirk of his. "What? What’s that look for?" he asked, already sensing that something mischievous was coming.
You pulled a soft, pastel ribbon out of your bag that you’d picked up earlier, holding it up with a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Jisung blinked for a moment, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, before a cocky grin spread across his face. "A ribbon? Around my bicep?" he repeated, clearly amused. "What, you think I need a little decoration to match my muscles or something?"
Without even attempting to conceal your laughter, you burst out laughing. "Well, you know," you replied, "It’s just that I think you'd look even more... impressive with it." Jisung laughed, obviously taking pleasure in your flirty banter. "Oh, so I’m already impressive, but a ribbon is just the finishing touch?" His voice was overflowing with confidence as he flexed his arm, obviously playing up the situation. "Alright, I will. For you.” Taking the ribbon from your hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and secured it with a little, exaggerated arm flex. He moved slowly and deliberately, obviously relishing the attention he was receiving. He gave you a dramatic flex after finishing, lifting his arm a little.
With a smug look on his face, he asked, "How’s this?" "Looking good, right?" You chuckle quietly as you admire how self-assured he was about it. "Really?” You shook your head in pleased amazement and replied, "You look ridiculous... but also ridiculously good." "You could wear anything and still manage to look perfect." Jisung leaned in a little, obviously enjoying your compliment. "Of course," he answered, grinning even broadly. "I mean, I always look this good, but if a ribbon makes you smile, I’m all in."
You smiled, reaching up to adjust the ribbon playfully. "You really are full of yourself, huh?"
"Only because I know you like it," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I’m definitely not complaining," you said, feeling the warmth of his confidence mixed with your affection for him.
As you continued your walk together, you couldn’t help but smile at how he always knew how to make you laugh—and how, no matter the request, he would always turn it into something fun.
felix
It was a cozy evening at home, and you and Felix were in the middle of a movie marathon. The soft glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up earlier added to the intimate vibe of the night, and a bowl of popcorn sat between you on the couch. You were curled up beside him, feeling completely content as you both laughed at the random jokes and cheesy moments of the movie.
Felix, who was in a comfortable oversized hoodie and sweatpants, absentmindedly tugged his hoodie off, showing off his lean arms as he adjusted himself on the couch. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, even in something so simple.
Then, your eyes landed on a cute ribbon you had left on the coffee table. You remembered you had bought it earlier and thought it would be fun to incorporate it into your night somehow. A mischievous idea crept into your mind.
“Hey, Lix,” you said, pausing the movie with a sly grin.
He turned his head toward you with a curious expression. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.
You picked up the ribbon and held it up in front of him, the light catching its soft, pastel color. “Can you do me a favor?” you asked, your tone playful.
Felix blinked and tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What kind of favor?”
You bit your lip, trying to keep your giggles in check. “Could you tie this around your bicep? I think it’ll look really cute on you.”
Felix's eyes immediately lit up, his face breaking into an excited grin. “Wait… really?” he said, his voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen people doing this lately, and I’ve been wanting to try it! Yes! Let’s do it!”
You burst out laughing at his excitement. “I had no idea you’d be so into it.”
Felix practically bounced off the couch in excitement, reaching for the ribbon before you even finished speaking. "I’ve got to do it right, though," he said, his expression full of determination as he wrapped the ribbon carefully around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. He flexed his arm as he finished, clearly pleased with the result.
He turned toward you with a proud smirk. "How’s this? Am I pulling it off?" he asked, his voice full of playful confidence.
You smiled, completely amused by how eager he was. “You look amazing,” you said, laughing. "Honestly, you’re probably the best person to wear a ribbon. It looks like you were born for it."
Felix struck a dramatic pose, flexing his arm again as if he were on a runway. “I knew it,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “I’m a trendsetter. Always ahead of the curve.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching over to adjust the ribbon slightly. “You’re so extra,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But you really do look good.”
Felix smiled widely, his eyes softening as he pulled you closer. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling warm and content. “Best decision I made today,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him as the movie continued to play in the background. Felix, with his ribbon and his smile, was all you needed in that moment.
seungmin
It was a quiet afternoon in the park. The weather was perfect—cool with a gentle breeze, and the soft sounds of children playing and birds chirping filled the air. You and Seungmin were sitting on a bench near a pond, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He had brought along a book, but you had found yourself distracted, leaning back and soaking in the peaceful scene around you.
As you sat beside him, your fingers absentmindedly ran through the small bag you’d brought along. That was when you noticed it—a soft, pastel ribbon you’d picked up from a craft shop earlier that week. A soft smile crept onto your face as an idea formed.
You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still quietly reading. His biceps were subtly flexing under his fitted T-shirt, and the thought of adding a cute, little accessory to them suddenly seemed like the perfect idea.
“Seung,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “can you do me a favor?”
He looked up from his book, his expression one of mild curiosity. “Hmm? What is it?” His tone was relaxed, not expecting anything unusual.
You held up the ribbon in front of him, trying to hide your excitement. “Can you tie this around your bicep?” you asked, your voice playful. “I think it’ll look cute on you.”
Seungmin blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at the ribbon for a moment, then looked back at you, slightly confused. “A ribbon? Around my arm?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Why would I do that?”
You pouted, trying to hide your disappointment. “I just think it would be fun,” you said, a little quieter now. “You’d look cute.”
Seungmin frowned slightly, not quite sold on the idea. “It just seems... kind of silly,” he muttered, glancing at the ribbon again. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”
The playful energy you had a moment ago quickly shifted. You felt a little disappointed, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal. You had just hoped it would be a fun moment to share, but now Seungmin seemed unsure, and you couldn’t help but feel a little deflated.
Noticing the change in your mood, Seungmin's expression softened, his gaze flicking back to you. He realized he might have come off a little too harsh, and seeing the slight sadness in your eyes, he quickly sighed, setting his book aside.
“Okay, okay,” he said, giving you a small but warm smile. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to wear it for long, alright?”
You perked up instantly, your smile returning. “Really?” you asked, your tone filled with excitement. “Thank you, babe!”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on his face. “I don’t get why you like these kinds of silly things, but…” He grabbed the ribbon from your hand and wrapped it around his bicep with exaggerated care, making sure it was tied just right.
Once it was secure, he flexed his arm just a little, showing off the ribbon in a way that almost made you laugh. “How’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. "You happy now?"
You couldn't stop smiling. He might have been reluctant at first, but he still looked amazing with the ribbon on his arm. “You look great,” you said with a grin, reaching out to gently adjust the ribbon. “I told you, it’s cute.”
Seungmin raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll wear it for a little while.”
You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It makes me very happy,” you said softly, your voice warm with affection. “Thank you for indulging me.” He chuckled, clearly feeling a little more at ease. As you sat together, the ribbon still around his bicep, you felt the warmth of the moment. It wasn’t just about the silly request—it was the way Seungmin always cared enough to make you happy, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone for a moment. And that made the simple gesture so much more special.
I.N
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jeongin were relaxing at his place. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying the quiet, while he had been fiddling around with his phone. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze, and the world outside seemed to slow down as you two enjoyed the calm.
You were absentmindedly scrolling through your own phone when your eyes fell on the small ribbon you’d brought with you. It was a simple, pastel blue, just the right size to fit around a bicep. A playful idea crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Hey, babe," you said, glancing up at him, a teasing grin on your face.
He lowered his phone and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, clearly curious.
You held the ribbon out between your fingers. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked, your tone light and playful. "I think it’ll look cute on you."
Jeongin’s eyes lit up immediately, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned back on the couch, puffing out his chest a little. "A ribbon?" he repeated, clearly liking the attention. "You want me to wear a ribbon around my bicep?"
You nodded, trying to keep your grin in check. "Yep, exactly that. I think it'd be cute, and I wanna see it on you."
He let out a small laugh, the kind that hinted he was already feeling a little too proud of himself. "Oh, so you want me to show off these bad boys, huh?" he said, flexing his biceps a little and making them bulge impressively. "I mean, I have been hitting the gym with the guys a lot lately. All those extra sets are finally paying off."
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, we get it," you teased, giving him a playful push. "You’ve got muscles. Can you just put the ribbon on already?”
Jeongin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, looking down at his arms and admiring them as though he were in front of a mirror. "You know, I have been getting stronger, so now I’m basically a walking advertisement for all my hard work."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure, sure," you said, amused. "Keep flexing. I just want you to tie the ribbon on so I can see how ridiculous you look with it."
Jeongin’s grin widened, and he leaned forward to take the ribbon from your hand. "Fine, I’ll humor you. But just so you know," he said as he carefully wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. "I’m not just doing this for you. It’s a chance for me to show off my gains."
You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone. "I can see that," you teased, playfully eyeing him as he flexed again to show off the ribbon. "Are you going to wear it like this all day, or do I have to deal with the gym bro attitude the whole time?"
He turned to face you, flexing his arm dramatically, showing off the ribbon now adorning his bicep. "You think this is a one-time thing?" he asked, clearly enjoying how ridiculous and charming he looked. "I’m about to start a new trend. Who wouldn’t want to wear a ribbon with these muscles?"
You rolled your eyes again, though there was a smile on your face. "You’re such a show-off," you said, leaning over to adjust the ribbon just slightly, your fingers grazing his skin. "But you look good, I’ll admit it."
Jeongin puffed his chest out even more, giving you a proud look. "Of course I do. You’re welcome," he said, his voice oozing confidence. "You’re lucky I’m letting you see all this muscle right now."
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m lucky, huh?" you said with a playful smirk. "I’m the one who gets to see you all flexing over a ribbon, looking like a total goofball."
Jeongin just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. "Anything to make you smile," he said, softening a little despite the cocky attitude.
You snuggled into him, smiling. "I think you’re cute no matter what," you said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around you. "But this just makes you even more ridiculous, and I love it."
Jeongin grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice softening despite his earlier boastfulness.
asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!
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nejiverse · 12 hours ago
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KIDS AND CARS
Toji Fushiguro
In which Toji who has been a father for six years is bested by his own girlfriend who has never been a mother. Fem! Reader
cw: none, im starting the ‘megumi being an expressive kid’ agenda 🫡
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700ish words
Megumi was at that age where he rebelled against everything and anything Toji said or did. Frankly, it was starting to annoy Toji, he was starting to think his own son was trying to make his life a living hell on purpose
Then there was you who made it seem so effortless. Toji couldn’t comprehend why his six year old son only listened to his girlfriend
This particular day, Toji had an unimpressed look etched on his face as he folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was clearly fed up
“You have to put your toys away Megumi, I keep stepping on them”, he tried to be somewhat nice, he really did. But the boy just flat out ignored him as if he was deaf or something, continuing to bash his toy cars against each other while mimicking explosion noises. He was sat comfortably on the living room carpet with not a care in the world
Toji felt like a vein was about to burst as his brow twitched involuntarily. “I’m talking to you brat”, he spoke sternly, his patience drawing thin
In Toji’s defence, the little boy’s cars were scattered absolutely everywhere, it was hard to walk by without stepping on one. Besides, he was only playing with three out of the millions of toy cars on the floor
“Don’t wanna”.
Toji itched his head and clenched his teeth. Since when did his little boy upgrade from a simple ‘no’ to a ‘don’t wanna’?
Without a doubt, out of all the opponents he had faced in his lifetime, Megumi had to be his biggest challenge yet
“Yeah well I don’t give a fu—”, before Toji could finish his sentence, a hand came over his mouth
“Be nice”, his beloved girlfriend had a frown on her face because of his vulgar language
Toji sighed, relaxing his facial muscles and unfolding his arms. “Yeah yeah”
The woman approached Megumi, crouching down beside him with two of his little toy boxes in her hands after overhearing the whole situation while she was tidying his room.
“Say Megs”, she started with the nickname he loved to hear. “I’m really bored right now, can you play a game with me?”, at the mention of a game, Megumi perked up, turning to face Y/n
“What game?”, he asked, curiosity evident in his big blue eyes
“Whoever can pick up the most cars and put them into these boxes in 30 seconds wins!”, she explained before feigning a sad expression. “Oh but I don’t think you’ll be able to beat me, I am a faster runner than you after all”
Megumi felt challenged. “Liar! I’m the fastest!”, he boasted proudly
She smirked. “We’ll see about that….3, 2, 1, go!”, and the both of them scrambled to pick up as many cars as they could from the ground
Toji watched in amazement how good she was with him without ever having any experience with kids. He definitely chose the right person to date
Later that evening, after Megumi was tucked into bed and the house was quiet (finally), Y/n got comfortable between Toji’s legs as he threw on a random movie.
“Thanks for earlier, I feel like Megumi has a secret vendetta against me at the moment”, he commented
She laughed. “Im sure he doesn’t, you just have to know how to approach him”, she leaned her head against his chest. “He really is a good kid”.
“Mhm”, he hummed against her neck as his head moved to rest on her shoulder, his arms slithering around her waist
“Makes me think we’d do alright with more, y’know?”, his hands moved under her shirt and massaged the flesh around her stomach
She couldn’t resist the smile that creeped onto her lips as she turned around in his arms. “Toji Fushiguro are you asking me to have your kids?”.
“Is that a yes?”.
Well, is it?
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a/n: off topic but kinda wanna start writing for bleach now that im caught up with the newest season 🤭 (requests opened btw)
masterlist :)
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theealbatross · 22 hours ago
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Headcannon: Sebastian takes care of people
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Tags: fluff, kinda low self esteem, kinda unhealthy codependency, short read had to get it out of my head
He takes care of strangers
Like silly little first years lost in the moving stairs, albeit with a frown and a sharp lecture about the dangers of walking around the castle and being too prideful to carry a map when they could barely locate their dorm rooms, firmly putting a quick end to older students' teasing when their jokes cross a line, and even ending up as the reluctant volunteer tutor (live training dummy) for Defense Against the Dark Arts after Professor Hecat assigned him the role to complete his detention.
This, in turn, makes him surprisingly popular with the kids to his bewilderment as they gravitate toward their grumpy but reliable senior.
"Have a good day, Sebastian!"
Both of you frown in confusion at the gaggle of cheerful first-year Hufflepuffs who eagerly greet him as you pass the halls. One even waved at him before they turned into a corner.
"What was that?"
He shrugs. "Hell if I know."
He takes care of his friends
"Amitt! Watch out!"
The Ravenclaw could barely turn to the familiar booming voice before he was shoved to the ground.
"Hey! You aren't allowed in the field!"
"Are you alright, Amitt?" He realizes the concerned voice of his friend, Sebastian, brought him out of his stupor. And in his hand is the bludger that nearly had an intimate interaction with the back of his head.
"Oh! Sebastian! Many thanks! I didn't know Slytherin practices ran this late. I was on my way to the top of the bleachers -- the best views of the summer night sky, I tell you."
"Thakkar, you don't have permission to be here!"
Sebastian rolls his eyes, feeling Amitt's anxiety rising as Slytherin quidditch players land one after another, looming over him. "Back off, all of you. He nearly got hurt. I'll handle it."
"But --"
"My apologies everyone! I truly meant no harm --"
"The captain's right, Sallow. Who knows if those Ravenclaws are using this nerd over here to spy on us --"
"I said back off, Thorncrest," Sebastian turned his back on Amitt to face all of his teammates, daring any of them to take another step. "The next time you ignore my orders, I'll stop using words since they can't seem to penetrate through your skull. So you either learn to play nice or I won't let it pass that it was because of your subpar performance that a bludger almost hit my friend."
Sebastian and the other Slytherin student glared at each other until Imelda smacked Thorncrest's head, cutting through the tension. "Listen to your Vice-Captain," he turns to Sebastian with a nod. "I'll take care of him, you get Thakkar out of here."
Sebastian nodded back at Imelda, ensuring everyone was back in the skies before turning to a guilty-looking Amitt.
"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I did not think I would cause such a disturbance."
Sebastian just waved him off with a friendly chuckle and a comforting hand on his shoulder. Amitt can't believe his fellow Ravenclaws don't believe him when he tells them Sebastian is a warm person, laughing to his face was just quite rude. To be fair, they could barely believe they were friends at all. "Don't worry about it, athletes are assholes during Quidditch season."
He looked sheepish, "Can I still go up the bleachers?"
Despite his subdued character, Sebastian can see that Amitt has all the determination in the world when it comes to achieving the things that interest him the most. Maybe that's why he liked the Ravenclaw boy so much. "Yeah, go ahead, Amitt. Just don't let any prefect see you."
"Ah! Thank you, my friend! I shall be as quiet as a mouse!"
Sebastian waved as Amitt haphazardly said his goodbyes.
"If anybody bothers you tell them to talk to me!"
He takes care of Ominis
Despite his great interest in the dark arts and his pure-blooded status, Sebastian will take any and every opportunity to fight Ominis' family. He hates them simply because they hurt his friend, which is unforgivable in his eyes. He had every opportunity to get in their good graces but he blew all of that to pieces when he got in a crude fight with the eldest son of the Gaunts the moment he called Ominis a 'useless cripple'.
From then on, Sebastian has been banned from the Gaunt's estate indefinitely.
"Yeah, they better fucking ban me or I'll burn that haunted house to the ground and lock that prick inside of it."
Despite himself and his pacifistic tendencies, Ominis couldn't but scoff out a laugh while Sebastian nursed a bloody lip, glaring at the gates of the manor as it closed on them. "You didn't need to do that."
"I don't think I did enough," he sneers, blood boiling at the fact that Ominis seemed used to their cruel words. Not wanting to fester on their cruel treatment, he throws his hands across Ominis' shoulders. "Who the hell wants to spend Christmas there anyway? Feldcroft is way more cozy."
Ominis smiled, patting Sebastian's back, the closest 'thank you' he could show now that he knew he had found a true friend. "You're right," He thinks of Anne, Solomon's bland stew, and the blinking lights of the Sallow home.
"Are you alright?" And Sebastian -- kind, true, painfully loyal. His first friend.
Ominis nods.
"Let's go home."
He takes care of his family.
Even though Anne no longer communicates with him after 'the incident' Sebastian still religiously sends letters to Beauxbatons Academy along with whatever trinkets he finds that remind him of her. And even though he detested Solomon and barely felt bad about his death, he still made a point to clean his grave, knowing the old man didn't like it when things were messy, and even emptied his favorite whiskey on his birthday.
"Seb?"
He blinks as you slip your hands into his. He squeezes it, letting the heat on your skin ground him as the two of you stare at the gravestone. Just as remorseful guilt creeps into your heart, he cuts it off. "I don't regret it, you know," he mutters firmly. "He almost ... he was hurting Anne. He was going to hurt you."
You nod, leaning your forehead on his shoulders, trying to comfort him through his quiet struggles knowing words or pieces of advice won't help.
"But I know he did his best. It wasn't enough but it was his best," he empties the other half of the whiskey on the grave, and his grip on you tightens. "I owe him this much."
He takes care of you.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Sebastian flinches awake at the recent memory, his breath shaky as he looks around the dim light of the Room of Requirement.
He did what he had to do, he knows this. Solomon has been eaten up by his own anger, if he didn't stop him ... Merlin knows what would've happened.
If the three of you had gotten out of that fight alive, with your participation in his insipid plans, it wasn't unlikely that Solomon would ship you off to Azkaban with him. That can't happen, he dragged you into that hellhole, he had to get you out of there unscathed.
No matter how high the cost.
"S-Sebastian?"
He sits up from the couch, surprised to see you awake on the open door that leads to your personalized bedroom. The two of you had holed up in your safe haven after the events of the night but it would seem rest evaded the two of you.
"I can't ..." you sigh shakily, biting your lips. "I can't sleep. I'm scared."
As if your fear had overpowered his own, he swiftly set aside the last traces of his fear and guilt, extending his hands, which you eagerly took. Sebastian pulls you in his lap, preceding any thought of impropriety as he curls himself around you, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he covers the two of you in your blanket.
"It's all going to be all right," he promises, pressing his lips on the crown of your hair. "I won't let anything happen to you."
And takes care of you.
"Hey, Sebastian is waiting for you in the common room."
"Sallow said he'll pick you up after class."
"She's not coming, Sebastian's got her."
"Your hound is here."
You turned with a frown from Imelda to what she was staring at with a mischievous grin and by the door stood Sebastian, smiling when your eyes met.
"I --"
"-- have to go," Imelda playfully rolled her eyes. You gave her a smile as you gathered your books.
"Same time next week?"
"Maybe let's hide somewhere your hound can't sniff you up?"
"Get your own witch, Reyes," a deep voice from behind proved her point. Sebastian grabbed your book and satchel from your hands, hooking it on one arm, and the other gently offered his free hand to yours. "This one's mine."
And wants to take care of you forever.
"You should marry me."
Your next step faltered as you turned to Sebastian on the shore of the Black Lake, the setting sun illuminating his face and the vulnerability and determination written across it.
"W-What?"
"I've thought about it," he swallows, walking closer until he is right in front of you, the cold shallow water above your ankles a welcome reprieve from your burning body at such an announcement. "I've thought about letting you go, letting you find someone better than me. "
"Sebastian --"
"But I figured that I'm a selfish man. I always have been. And I want you more than anything else," you shudder at his fervor. "I love you more than anything else in this world."
Gently, as he always does, he took your hand, placing it on his warm cheek. "I can't offer much, I know, but I ... I will make you the sun my world will revolve on."
He presses a kiss at your palm, a warm tear falls from your eyes.
"Marry me," he begs. "Let me be the one to make you happy."
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j-k-writes · 3 days ago
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The Bronze Targaryen - 10
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Summary - As (Y/N) recovers from his injury and Rhaenyra prepares for the birth of their sixth child Princess Rhaenys brings troubling news to the couple that changes the course of their lives forever.
Warnings - Canon character death(s), stillbirth, general HOTD warnings, pain, injuries, ableist language towards oneself
(Y/N) groaned as he rested his forehead against the cool stone wall. His legs shook from the effort it took to keep himself upright, his knuckles white with strain as he gripped his cane. The maesters had warned him of aggravating his injuries so soon after his recovery, but he had been going mad with boredom locked in his chambers. He hadn’t been allowed out of his chambers without someone standing guard like he was going to collapse at any second since he’d arrived on Vermithor. Although, considering the searing pain coming from his calf and shoulder perhaps he’d been too hasty in his break for freedom. 
Breathing heavily, (Y/N) straightened, his free hand placed on the wall for extra support as he made his way slowly down the hall. His jaw clenched and he barely suppressed a yell as an uneven stone on the floor caused the pain in his leg to ramp up to a blinding agony. He grabbed the wall before he could fall, but the sudden pressure on his arm jolted his shoulder and he could not stop the noise that escaped him at the sudden onset of pain. 
“Father?” 
(Y/N) turned his head at the voice, plastering a no doubt pained smile on his face at the sight of his son. “Should you not be at lessons, Luke?” 
Luke frowned, ignoring his father’s question, “Are you alright?” 
“Yes,” (Y/N) nodded. “Yes I am alright I just- I just needed to catch my breath.” 
Luke walked over to (Y/N), carefully helping sit on the ground. (Y/N) groaned in relief as the pressure was taken off his legs, allowing some of the pain to ease. Luke took a seat next to him, eyes full of worry as he looked at his father. (Y/N) raised his good arm, placing his palm on the boy's cheek in an attempt to soothe his worries. 
“I am alright, tresy. I promise, it was just a little pain.” 
Luke’s frown deepened, “It did not look like a little.” 
(Y/N) pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “There is no need to worry about me, Luke.” Luke did not respond, and the look on his face reminded (Y/N) of the looks Rhea would give him when he was a young child. (Y/N) smiled softly, cupping his son’s cheek, “What is on your mind?” 
Luke bit his lip, and the clear conflict on his son’s face made (Y/N) frown. Luke did not meet his eyes as he spoke. “I just- I think they made a mistake.” 
“Who did?” 
“Gunthor should’ve been your heir.” 
(Y/N) clutched his son's cheek, probably too hard if the small wince from the boy was anything to go by. “Do not speak that way. You are my son, you are my heir. Gunthor was a snake and a leech and I am glad he’s dead.” 
“But-” 
“No buts, Luke.” (Y/N) said. “He wished to strip you of your birthright simply because he hated me and your grandsire.” 
“I cannot rule Runestone, father.” Luke sighed. “I’m not like you and mom.” 
“In what way, sweet boy.” (Y/N) huffed a small laugh, brushing some of Luke’s bangs out of his face. 
“I am not so-” Luke hesitated. “Perfect.” 
(Y/N) let out a full laugh at the statement, “Luke. Your mother and I are anything but. I became heir to Runestone after my mother’s death when I was just older than your brother. I did not wish for that responsibility, nor did I wish to become the Lord not four moons later when my grandsire died. My mother and grandsire looked after me and prepared me for my duties, and your father will do the same for you.” 
Before Luke could respond they were interrupted by Ser Lorent. The knight was almost frantic in his movements, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the two princes sitting on the stone floor. “Prince (Y/N).” 
(Y/N) nodded at the knight, “Ser Lorent.” 
“Princess Rhaenyra has requested your presence in the council chambers. The Princess Rhaenys has arrived from Kingslanding with news.” 
(Y/N) turned to his son, “We will continue this conversation later.” Luke nodded, and (Y/N) made to stand. He clenched his teeth as his body protested his movements. Luke and Ser Lorent reached to help him, but (Y/N) stopped them, holding up his hand. “I am fine.” 
He heard Luke sigh next to him, but the boy did not call his father on the lie. Instead he gave his father a small frown and watched as he struggled to stand. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to Luke. “You should go back to your lessons before the maester realizes you are missing.” 
Luke nodded, giving his father an unreadable look before walking away. (Y/N) turned to Ser Lorent and motioned for him to lead the way. They had to stop halfway through the journey, (Y/N) doubling over as his stomach pain went from a dull ache to a sharp burn. Ser Lorent offered his arm to the Prince, but (Y/N) batted his hand away, taking a deep breath before continuing on to the council room. Ser Lorent trailed behind him cautiously as if expecting (Y/N) to keel over any second, which, (Y/N) mused, was not unreasonable given how he felt. 
(Y/N) collapsed into the chair that was brought out for him as soon as they reached the council room. Rhaenyra approached, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He reached up, placing his hand atop hers. “I am fine, just in some pain.” 
“I can get the maesters-” 
“I am fine.” He repeated, squeezing her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “Let us hear what Rhaenys has to say.” 
Rhaenyra ran her hands gently through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen from his bun out of his face and tucking them behind his ear. “Alright. But afterward I want you to get some rest.” 
“Rhaenyra-” (Y/N) prepared to argue, but he was cut off by his father’s entrance into the room. 
“Listen to Rhaenyra.” His father chastised, giving (Y/N) a hard look. “You will not recover overnight, and you will especially not recover if you do not rest.” 
(Y/N) sank in on himself, feeling like a child under his father’s gaze. Rhaenyra chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before the doors were once again opened. Rhaenys entered the room and just by the expression on her face (Y/N) could tell his family was not going to be happy to hear what she had to say. 
“The Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.” 
“Thank you, Ser Lorent.” Rhaenyra smiled, “Princess Rhaenys, might we hope for news of Lord Corlys’ recovery?” 
“Viserys is dead.” Everyone in the room froze at Rhaenys’ words. (Y/N)’s eyes snapped from Rhaenys to his wife then to his father. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon were frozen in place, watching Rhaenys carefully. “I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart.”
“There is more.” Rhaenys approached Rhaenyra, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. She sighed, and (Y/N) tensed preparing himself for her next words. “Aegon has been crowned as his successor.” 
(Y/N) hung his head, gripping his cane between both hands. He shut his eyes tight, ears ringing and head pounding as the conversation continued around him. 
“They crowned him?” He heard Rhaenyra ask, grief and anger evident in her voice. 
“How did Viserys die?” (Y/N) looked up at the sound of his father’s voice. 
“I could not say.” 
“How long ago?” Rhaenyra bit out, and (Y/N) watched helplessly as his wife’s walls crumbled before him. 
“A day past, perhaps two. I was made a prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations.” 
“Viserys has been slain.” His father bit out. 
“Father.” (Y/N) sighed, giving him a look, and Daemon quieted yet the fury was still burning in his eyes. 
“Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon.” Rhaenyra said, posture becoming even more tense. Both Daemon and (Y/N) sat up straighter, Daemon taking a defensive stance and angling his body toward his son and good-daughter. 
“She did.” (Y/N) saw his father’s hand fall toward his sword. “I refused her.” 
“And yet you are alive.” 
“The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit.” Rhaenys gave Daemon a harsh look, but no one in the room relaxed at her words. “I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys.” 
“They crowned him before the masses.” Rhaenyra sounded absent, as if she was barely listening to the words being spoken around her. 
“So that the masses would see him as their rightful King.” 
(Y/N) watched Rhaenyra carefully, as his father and Rhaenys began to argue. 
“That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you could’ve burned them all for it.” 
Rhaenyra winced, hand coming to rest on her stomach. (Y/N) stood, ignoring the pain it brought him. He limped over to his wife as Rhaenys responded to Daemon, paying them barely any attention. 
“A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house.” Rhaenyra gasped, and (Y/N) placed his hand on her arm. She looked up at him, eyes wide. 
“The Greens are coming for you, Rhaenyra. And for your children. You should leave Dragonstone at once.” 
Rhaenyra gasped again, and (Y/N) steadied her to the best of his ability. “Rhaenyra, what-” 
He watched as Rhaenyra grabbed her dress pulling it up far enough to reach under it. When she brought her hand back into his few he froze at the crimson blood coating her fingers. Rhaenyra looked up at her, eyes shining. 
“The babe is coming.”
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Breathing deeply, (Y/N) listened to the men around him chatter on. His father was saying something about patrols as he stood next to him, but (Y/N) could not hear him over the ringing in his ears and the faint cries of his wife. 
He took a breath in, Daemon speaking once more, and he took a breath out. 
In. 
Rhaenyra screamed again, and (Y/N) gripped the arms of his chair digging his blunt nails into the wood hard enough to leave crescent indents. 
Out. 
The first time (Y/N) had climbed a tree, the knights guarding him had yelled for him to get down until their voices were hoarse. He remembers their voices becoming softer and softer as he climbed higher and higher. That day was nearly thirty years ago. And yet, as he sat in his chair trying to understand the men around him, he felt as if he was back at the top of the tree, the voices fading from him as he climbed and climbed. 
A hand touched his neck, rubbing soothing circles into his skin as he started to come back to himself. He looked to his left where his father was watching him, brows pinched in worry. He opened his mouth, before shutting it again, taking another shaky breath. 
“My Prince?” 
(Y/N) looked to Lord Celtigar, his surroundings fading back in slowly. “What?” 
Celtigar looked to his father, and Daemon simply gave the man a pointed stare. Clearing his throat, Celtigar spoke. “A raven flew in this morning. The Sea Snake’s fever has broken, and he has left Evenfall.” 
(Y/N) nodded, running his shaking hands down his face. “Where is he sailing?” 
“That much is unclear, my Prince.” 
(Y/N) nodded, and at his lack of response Daemon spoke for him. “We’ll send ravens to our nearest allies: Lords Darklyn, Massey, and Bar Emmon.” 
“As well as Lords Coldwater, Shett, and Tollett.” (Y/N) said, unsure if his voice was loud enough for the surrounding Lords to hear him, but his father nodded at his words. 
“(Y/N)!” Rhaenyra’s voice echoed through the hall, and (Y/N) winced, squeezing his eyes shut tight. 
“Go to her.” His father knelt next to him, taking his hand and gently prying his tight grip off the chair. His free hand gently grasped his neck, the pressure the only thing keeping (Y/N) grounded. “She needs you.” 
(Y/N) nodded. He grabbed his cane from where it rested against the table, standing on unsteady legs. He looked to the Lords of Rhaenyra’s council, “Naught is to be done but by Rhaenyra’s direct command.” 
He made eye contact with Jace as he turned to walk out of the room. Jace walked over silently, pausing just in front of his father. His brown eyes were hard as he took in the men before him, but (Y/N) reached out, directing his son's attention to him and only to him. 
“Make sure no action is declared while your mother is abed.” He said, soft enough to ensure only Jace heard him. Jace straightened at the command, giving his father a curt nod. 
(Y/N) ignored the way his body ached and screamed at him as he climbed the stairs to Rhaenyra’s chambers. He practically flung the doors to the chambers open, breath coming in short but desperate gasps as he looked around for his wife. The maester rushed over to him, a protest most likely on the tip of his tongue, but (Y/N) simply held his hand up. He did not speak to the man as he pushed past him, making a beeline for his sobbing wife. The handmaidens flocking Rhaenyra moved out of his way as he approached, their worry for the princess evident in the looks they gave him. 
“Rhaenyra-” Her name had barely left his lips before she was reaching for him. He stumbled at the suddenness of her embrace but willed himself to stay standing as he brought his free hand to her hair. Mumbling soft words of reassurance into her sweaty hair, (Y/N) guided her toward the bed. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, dropping his cane to hold her properly as soon as his legs were supported by the mattress. 
He guided her hands to his shoulders, biting back a groan as her nails dug into the fresh skin that covered his wounds. He rested his forehead against hers as she cried, silent tears rolling down his cheeks at his wife’s pain. The faint dragon cries in the distance made (Y/N) choke back a sob. 
He was useless to his wife. 
The war in the Vale had crippled him, probably permanently. The maesters doubted he would ever be able to properly ride his dragon again let alone fight. He couldn’t even hold Rhaenyra properly as she struggled through labor, how was he supposed to help her secure her crown? 
“Princess, let us help you.” Elinda begged. 
Rhaenyra simply shook her head, gripping her husband harder as she screamed “No. Get out!” 
(Y/N) could not tell who she was talking to, but he cupped her face gently. “Rhaenyra please.” 
“Get out.” Rhaenyra sobbed, groaning and screaming. She was bearing down forcefully now, and (Y/N) watched helplessly. 
“You should not be doing this alone, Nyra.” (Y/N) sobbed, tears flowing down his face. “Please let them help.” 
The scream that wretched itself from Rhaenyra’s throat made (Y/N) shut his eyes, unable to watch his wife’s pain any longer. He murmured incoherently as Rhaenyra birthed their child, unsure if she was even able to hear him over her screams. When the screams stopped, and a gasp echoed through the now-silent room, (Y/N) opened his eyes. 
He was unable to stop the noise that escaped him at the sight of their daughter’s body, bloody and painfully still in Rhaenyra’s arms. She cradled the babe close to her chest, bringing her up so that (Y/N) could get a proper look at the daughter he would now never know. He pressed a kiss to his daughter before resting his head on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. 
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, but his wife just shook her head. They both sat there cradling their daughter between them. People filtered in and out of the room, offering condolences to the pair, but they ignored them. The maester offered to take the babe to the silent sisters for them, but both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra turned him down, insisting that they were to do the preparation themselves. 
When Rhaenyra felt well enough to stand they began to walk to the room where the silent sisters were waiting for them. The sisters didn’t bother approaching the couple, just watching as silently as their name implied. Rhaenyra set their daughter carefully on the table and began to wrap her gently in the cloth wrap. 
(Y/N) did not believe in the Stranger, so the only people he could find to place the blame of the death of his only daughter on were the Greens. The usurpers of his wife’s birthright, the people who had attempted to help rob Luke of his, and now the killers of his child. 
“Rhea Royce.” (Y/N) caught Rhaenyra’s gaze as she cried over their daughter. She sobbed harder after she was finished wrapping her and (Y/N), unable to do anything else, just held her as they sobbed in the dark room.
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He could not bring himself to look at the small pyre they had built on the hill. He kept his gaze firmly locked on Vermithor, and as if the dragon could read its rider's mind, Vermihtor kept his eyes trained on (Y/N), waiting patiently for his command. 
Rhaenyra stood motionless beside her husband, watery eyes focused solely on the unlit pyre. After minutes of excruciating silence, their family standing patiently behind the couple, she turned to (Y/N), giving him a curt nod. 
Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) spoke. “Dracarys.” 
He watched as Vermithor crept forward slowly, the dragon gave his rider one last look before lighting the pyre. Only then did (Y/N) force himself to look at his daughter. He and Rhaenyra stood there silently as the black smoke from the flames rose into the air. The sound of steel being drawn eventually caused (Y/N) and Rhaenyra to turn to face the crowd behind them. 
A kingsguard that (Y/N) was not acquainted with stood before the crowd, putting the Prince immediately on edge. The guard took his helmet off, speaking to the guards in front of him. “I mean no harm brothers.” 
(Y/N) took a step forward, putting himself between the knight and his wife. The man reached into his satchel, taking the crown of (Y/N)’s great-grandfather and uncle out. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the action, and his surprise furthered when the man kneeled, presenting (Y/N) with the crown. 
“I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers.” (Y/N) took the crown from the knight, turning it over in his hands to get a proper look at it. “I shall take no wife, hold no land, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.” 
(Y/N) turned to Rhaenyra as those around them began to slowly bend the knee. Her face betrayed her surprise at the events, and (Y/N) slowly approached. He held the crown of her ancestors before her above her placing it softly on her head. (Y/N) knelt before his wife, the pain in his body easier to ignore than ever before. He kept his eyes trained on her as he spoke. 
“My Queen.”
---
Translations -
Tresy - son
Dracarys - dragon fire
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fictionalslvr · 3 days ago
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The cute barista keeps messing up your name, so you gotta teach him up.
You didn't know how to stop. It all started with a simple coffee after a long and tiring day of work. And suddenly, you're going to the cafeteria every. single. day. In fact, your motive was one at the beginning, but right now, it was another. The bell sounded again, that sound is now ignored by your brain every time you enter that glass door with the paper “open” sign. There was no wait, no time for reaction, and Leon is already turning to where you're turned, his eyes going slightly different from seeing you. You knew his name. Besides being written on his badge, he was happy to tell you again when you two met. The complete opposite for you, that already told Leon your name a few…times.
The first time he asked was casual, only to write on your order cup. And he got it wrong. You actually frowned when you saw your cup, with your name spelled wrong. But how could you correct him at this point? He was calling you wrong each time he saw you, it was clearly…embarrassing to say it now.
—”You're here, it's nice to see you another day.” — His lips pursed slightly up, that colgate smile appearing again like he's Superman or some superhero to smile so beautifully. You ducked your head down, giving him a nod while walking to his counter.
—”It's weird if I always order the same as always?”
—”Of course not, I was actually waiting for that. You're the only one who asks for the pumpkin latte.”
Your eyes went wide. How couldn't people like that marvelous and heavenly drink?? Your reaction certainly was funny to Leon, because he giggled at it.
But you had to correct him. Tell him your real name if you want to take a step ahead of your friendship. And nothing better but to teach him in some private way.
—”That's…not my name.” — Leon's eyes almost bugged out his eyeballs. He stared at you like you just insulted him. But his cheeks turning crimson told you he was feeling guilty for that.
—”Tell me. I need to know your name properly. And so sorry…f-for saying it wrong all this time.”
You smiled, your hands pursuing his cheeks and cupping it until he was melting into your touch. His blue eyes were almost lurking for you. And when you said your name, he was…amazed. He tasted it like a mantra, like a pray in his tongue, like you were everything he was missing all his life.
—”Please…please punish me for messing everything up.” — It's your time to get surprised. You didn't expect the cute barista to be so whiny.
—”Then say my name, say it properly now that you know it.”
Your other hand was already in his dick, holding it so gently he couldn't feel your touch the way he longed for. Leon moved his hips forward, begging with actions for more of your hands around him. But you didn't, not until he said your name so gracefully.
—”That's better, now be a good boy and I'll give you what you want, alright?”
—”Of course! Everything for you. I wanted this for so long, y-you can't even imagine.” — His head fell into your shoulders, he was weak, his body was in the temperature as someone with a fever. In fact, maybe he has a fever right now.
You couldn't imagine. No. You couldn't imagine that big round eyes were practically begging for you after so many visits at the cafeteria. You couldn't imagine the cute barista was so needy. But at least, he won't mess up your name in your next orders.
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mattsmiddlepartt · 1 day ago
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Chanel
Warnings: pet names. (Babydoll, doll, kid, ect.) Frat boy. One annoying girl. Fluff at the end. Jealousy. I think that's all.
!frat boy chris × !innocent reader
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The bass from the frat house speakers reverberated through the night as Chris pulled you closer by the waist. You weren't the usual type to hang around frat houses, but tonight you stood out in the best way. Your fitted white top and pastel pink skirt caught everyone’s attention—and Chris’s, most of all. You looked effortlessly gorgeous, your style a stark contrast to the chaos around them.
“You sure you’re good, babydoll?” Chris asked, leaning down so his voice reached your over the noise.
You gave him a soft smile, your eyes shining under the dim lights. “I’m fine, Chris. This isn’t as intimidating as you think.”
Chris smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Alright, kid. Just stay close to me, yeah? Don’t want these clowns getting any ideas.”
You nodded, letting him guide you through the throng of people and into the main living room. Once inside, Chris found a seat on a worn-out leather couch and tugged you down onto his lap, his arm looping securely around your waist.
“You always this clingy?” you teased, adjusting her skirt as she settled into him.
“Only with you, doll,” he shot back with a grin.
She shook her head but leaned into him anyway, her arms loosely draped around his shoulders. Chris didn’t waste time, getting straight to business as people started approaching him. One by one, they handed him cash, and he discreetly passed off little baggies. You watched quietly, your fingers occasionally tracing patterns on his hoodie.
It wasn’t long before trouble walked up.
A blonde girl in a too-tight crop top and ripped jeans sauntered over, her heels clicking against the floor. “Chris!” she exclaimed, her voice loud and syrupy. “You’re a lifesaver. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Chris didn’t even flinch, pulling a baggie from his pocket. “What do you need?”
The blonde leaned in, completely ignoring you. “Oh, you know, the usual. And maybe your number while you’re at it?”
You stiffened in his lap, your fingers freezing mid-pattern. Chris immediately noticed, his jaw clenching as he handed over the baggie.
“Yeah, no,” he replied flatly, his tone leaving no room for debate.
The blonde pouted. “Oh, come on, Chris. Don’t be like that.”
“I’m good. Later.” Chris’s voice was sharper now, and the girl huffed before storming off.
As soon as she was gone, you shifted, sliding off his lap. “I’m gonna grab some air,” you muttered, not meeting his eyes.
Chris frowned, reaching for her wrist. “Babydoll, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, pulling away. “It’s fine.”
Chris let you go, but the rest of the party felt off. When they finally left, you were quiet, your gaze fixed out the car window. Chris could feel the tension radiating off you, and it was driving him crazy.
“Alright, kid,” he said as he pulled into a nearby lot and parked. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird since that girl came up.”
You turned to him, your expression unreadable. “She was all over you, Chris. And you didn’t exactly push her away right away.”
Chris blinked, then scoffed. “Are you serious? Babydoll, I wasn’t even looking at her like that.”
You crossed her arms. “It didn’t look like that from where I was sitting.”
Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, kid, I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me, alright? You’re my girl. Always.”
Your resolve wavered, and Chris seized the moment, leaning in to tilt your chin up so you had to look at him.
“You really think I’d trade you for someone like that?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Not a chance, doll. You’re mine. End of story.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you finally let out a small laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”
Chris grinned, pulling you into his chest. “And you’re a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Back at his place, you curled up beside him on the couch, your head resting on his chest. Chris ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Still mad?” he asked quietly.
You shook her head, your voice muffled against him. “Not anymore.”
“Good,” Chris said, pulling her closer. “You’re stuck with me, babydoll.”
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Taggies + inspos!: @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo @chasekeithh @stvrnioloslvt @sturnioloszn @sweetshuga @mattserenity @mattsbrowser @mattspleasure
* edited a bit!
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kooksvspogues · 2 days ago
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Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳
Part 3 -
Authors note: I am so touched at the love and support I have gotten from every single one of you. Hope you enjoy part 3 just as much, thank you for being here! ❤️ and don’t forget that every bit of feedback is greatly appreciated!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay okay, put it back, let it do it’s magic” she laughed grabbing the bottle from me as I give her a look. “Nope, I don’t like that look, I know what it means. Like I said earlier, just keep an open mind about it, okay?” She whispered
“Yeah, totally” I answer back before she smiles and pulls me towards the patio. I look around trying to find Liliana only to find her still in Drew’s arms, “can I have her?” I walk over to him sitting at the table.
“Yeah..” he starts, handing her over to me, “you look great, by the way” he whispers to me when I lean down to grab her
“Thanks, you too.” I say, immediately feeling myself cringe on the inside as I stand back up straight.
“You ready?” Mack asks walking up to me with Lil’s floaty.
“Lils, you ready to go swiiiim?” I say to her tapping her chest with my pointer finger making her smile and kick her legs around, “well I’ll take that as a yes” I laugh following Mack down the steps of the pool, feeling chill bumps go all over my body as soon as my feet touch the cool water.
Once my body starts to adjust to the cool water, I go in more and slowly let Lil’s feet go in the water, bringing them up quickly allowing her to adjust too, a little at a time until she was completely good. I sat her in her floaty and pushed her around talking to Mack.
“Y’all want a drink?” Logan hollers to us
“Yeah, hand me two of those wine coolers” Mack tells him, “I’ve been wanting you to try one of these” she tells me as she goes over the side to wait on Logan to bring them to her.
I grab one of Liliana’s pool toys and hand it to her, keeping my focus on her completely. Who wouldn’t? She’s adorable. But when I glance up to grab the wine cooler out of Mack’s hands, I see two sets of blue eyes on me.
“Don’t ever grow up Liliana” I whisper to her in a silly voice causing her to smile up at me. I glance back up for a second, catching the one set of eyes still looking at me, Drew. Manspreading, leaned back, both of his hands interlocked against the back of his head, watching me, slowly starting to smirk at me once he realizes I’m staring too, but water being splashed on me quickly grabs my attention, I look over to see Logan underwater swimming up next to me
“Y’all stop being boring and get in!” Mack yells at the boys still up on the deck.
“That any good?” Logan asked splashing me again
“Huh? What do you mean?” I ask
“The drink?” He asked looking at me confused
“Oh um…” I say looking down, realizing I haven’t even opened it. I pull the tab quickly and take a sip, “it’s alright, wanna try?” I answer quickly as he just laughs.
“Mhmm” he chuckles taking the cab from me
“What?” I ask quickly
“Nothing at all Mads” he smiled making me look at him confused.
“Stop being weird” I said pushing him lightly
“Who’s being weird?” Austin asks walking up to us, smiling at me.
“Logan, per usual” I laugh as Mack and Chase both join us.
“You love it” Logan says as I reach up and pat his cheek
“So much” I say giving him a sarcastic smile as he rolls his eyes.
“Drew, bring your ass!” Logan yells as we all glance up at him still sitting in the chair. He looks unsure at first but I quickly give him a small smile and he quickly gets up, walking towards the steps to get in before walking over towards us.
“Anybody want to play a game?” Austin asks
“Like what?” Chase asks
“Uhh, Mack, don’t you have that inflatable beer pong table?” He asks
“Ooo yeah, it’s in the closet, let me go get it, Maddie, come help with the drinks” she says grabbing my hand dragging me towards the steps before drying ourselves off and heading inside to find the beer pong table.
“What are we putting in the solo cups?” I ask her
“Vodka?” She asks and I start laughing
“Really? Vodka?” I laugh
“I think it’ll be fine” she smiled
“Me and vodka don’t mix, you know that” I tell her crossing my arms
“Then you better hope nobody makes it in your cup” she smiled at me as she pulled out the box with the table in it, “got it, gonna take this to the boys, be right back to help with the drinks.” I walked into the kitchen to find the solo cups and the bottle of vodka.
“Need any help?” Austin smiled coming around the corner
“I might could use your help with carrying everything out” I smiled
“I can do that, Mack is trying to find the air pump, so she asked me to come help” he said
“Of course she did” I chuckled shaking my head slightly
“So uh, how’d you and Mack meet?” He asked
“College, freshman year, we were 2 dorms down from each other and ended up becoming good friends and after first semester, we were roommates till we graduated” I explained
“She’s pretty awesome” he says
“The best” I agree
“You from here or?” He asked
“Born and raised, what about you?” I ask looking up at him
“Ohio actually” he smiled
“I’ve never met anybody from Ohio before” I chuckle
“Well now ya have” he smiled, “and what an honor it is to be your first” he said before scrunching his nose and eyes, his cheeks going tomato red “that sounded a lot better in my head”
“You’re good, it happens” I laugh, “but I do think we should just take the cups and vodka out fill them up outside instead of in here” I point out
“I agree, here, I’ll take it” he said reaching over to grab the cups and bottle. “Whose idea was vodka?” He raised an eyebrow as I cocked my head up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Nevermind” he said making me laugh as I lead the way out towards the back, closing the door behind him.
They have the beer pong table aired up and waiting in the water for the cups. I hop in the water before reaching up for Austin to hand me the cups before sliding into the water after me. I walk over to the table where Drew is, holding it still for me as I start putting cups in the slot.
“Thanks for holding it” I smile at him
“Oh it’s no big deal” he smiled at me as I finished up putting the cups in, turning to look for Austin, reaching out for the bottle as he quickly handed it over. I turn back around and start filling up the cups.
“Who’s on what team?” Mack asks
“I’ll take Maddie” Austin says and I immediately notice Drew’s shoulders drop.
“I’m really not that good, you sure you don’t want somebody else?” I ask Austin
“I can teach you a few tricks if I need to” he smiles sweetly down at me
“Um yea.. okay” I said smiling back at him slightly
“Drew, me and you against Maddie and Austin?” Logan asks
“Yea. Sure bro” Drew says looking me in my eyes before turning to walk to the other side of the table.
“Your going down Mads” Logan says
“In your dreams Logan” I tease back
“Like I said earlier, done and done” he winked and I faked gagging making all the boys laugh, “yeah, you did that in the dream too” Logan laughed
“Oh my God, stop!” I yell laughing covering my eyes making the boys laugh harder, “somebody throw” I laugh pointing at Drew and Logan
“What we doing? We land, whoever want to, drinks, or do y’all want to have a chosen person for each person?” Logan asks
“If I land it, Mads drinks mine” Drew says looking at me very intently
“Right back at ya Starkey” I sass as he raises an eyebrow at me before smirking
“You’re on” he says before getting situated before throwing his ping pong ball and of course making it into one.
“Get to drinking” he winked as I rolled my eyes as I waited on Logan to throw his, him making it into a cup to. Both, me and Austin rolling our eyes laughing, pulling the ball out of each cup and bringing the cup to our lips and downing it quickly. We both shake our heads as the burning feeling goes down our throat before getting ready to take our shots. Austin went first, making it into the front cup as I give him a high five.
“You wanna try first or want a little help?” Austin asked placing his hand at the base of my back, immediately making me more nervous.
“Let me try” I smile up at him and try to get myself in the right position and that’s when I feel Drew’s eyes on me too. I glance up to meet his eyes and raise my eyebrows, making him do it right back before smirking too.
“You nervous Mads?” Drew asked
“Shut up” I say laughing
“You got it Maddie!” Mack yells from the side of the pool with Liliana so I just go for it and take a shot. Which lands right between 2 cups making me groan and throw my head back.
“It’s okay! We’ll get em next time” Austin says wrapping an arm around me and patting my waist lightly as I wrapped an arm around his waist as we watch Logan chug his drink before it’s their turn to throw again.
Logan throws first and misses putting his hands on the top of his head watching as Drew throws his ball…. Right into their third cup. My eyes rolling immediately before grabbing the cup and pulling the ball out before drinking the contents.
Austin steps away to grab his ball and make a toss and smoothly lands into a cup. “You got this, just breathe” he whispers to me as I smile up at him stepping up to the middle of the board, taking a deep breath before making a toss that ended up in our third cup.
“Hell yeah! Drink Starkey’s” I yell before laughing as we happily watch them drink.
Eventually we’re both down to our last cup, all of us feeling the alcohol and adrenaline of beating each other. “Person that has gotten most cups from each team goes for the last cup?” Logan offers
“Yeah, Maddie, go” Austin says pushing me forward as Drew steps up to the other side, “you get two tries.”
“Burgers are ready!” Garrett yells
“2 minutes!” Mack yells back as she’s watching us intensely.
“You go” I tell Drew
“Ladies first” he says
“That’s why I told you to go” I sass and he cocks his head smirking at me as everyone else is saying “ooooo”and “daaaaang” as Drew starts to nod before getting ready to take his shot. First shot… missed… he grabbed the second ball and kissed it quickly before getting ready to take his throw and when he does, the ball hits the rim of the cup and bounces off onto the table making me jump up.
“You’ll do great, you got this” Austin says grabbing both of my shoulders from behind shaking me slightly making me laugh before I get ready to take my first shot. Missed. I grab the second ball and toss it, going straight into the last cup.
“OHHHHH!” Austin yells picking me up as we both raise an arm in victory before he puts me back down, Drew watching me closely as I step closer to him grabbing the final cup and lifting it up to him.
“Drink up Starkey” I wink as he smirks, keeping eye contact with me as he pulls the ball out of the cup and downs the liquid.
“Good game beautiful” he winks before walking towards the side of the pool pulling himself up and out of the pool as we all follow behind him to go get a burger.
Since there wasn’t enough room for everyone to take a seat, Mack went and sat in Garrett’s lap since he already made her burger while the rest of us got in line to make our own. Austin and Drew were on the short bench while Logan and a chase got the other two chairs available.
“Here, come sit with us” Austin said standing up and scooting over to give me enough room between him and Drew. I smile and step over the seat and take a seat, crossing my legs as Austin sat back down giving me a smile before taking a bite.
After eating, we all just sat around, joking and laughing. Truly allowing the full buzz to take effect. At some point while we were all joking, Austin’s hand found his way right above my knee and has been there since, caressing his thumb against my skin while the set of eyes on the other side of me was shooting daggers into his hand and burning a hole through me every time we caught each others eyes.
As it got darker, Mack asked me if I wanted to help with Liliana’s bath and getting her to go to sleep, which I happily jumped up to help.
Sitting between two very attractive men, one side of you feeling like a knife couldn’t even touch the tension while the other side was so carefree felt really weird so any excuse to get away from that, I was gonna take it.
“Well Austin seems to be enjoying you” Mack says as we walked into the bathroom.
“Yeah he’s nice” I state
“Nice? What’s ‘nice’ mean?” She asked looking at me
“That he’s nice?” I say raising an eyebrow
“Like he’s nice as in you’ll give him a shot or he’s nice but no?” She asked turning the water on for the bath
“Nice and I’m okay with him being a friend” I explain
“Who was this guy?” She asked as she pulled off Lil’s swimsuit and placed her into her tub in the tub.
“What guy?” I ask
“The guy that has had you so hung up forever about him, it feels like” she says
“It’s really not important Mack” I tell her
“Well I think it is, cause because of whoever this guy was, you haven’t been able to get past him and we’re not getting any younger” she tells me
“I know” I say looking down, wishing I could tell her.
“You know we’ve told each other everything, what is so different about this?” She asks
“It just is Mack, I’ll get over eventually, maybe that will be with Austin, maybe it’ll be in months or maybe even years, but I’ll figure it out” I tell her
“Why can’t you figure it out with that guy?” She asks as she rinses Lilian off
“It’s complicated” I say
“You’re complicated” she laughed
“Trust me, I know” I laughed
“Well, just so you know for the millionth time, I’m always here, no judgment, about anything and everything” she smiles
“Yea, I know” I smile back just as Liliana yawns real big and starts to cry
“I know you’re tired, I’m almost done baby” Mack talks to her rinsing the soap off of her bow before letting the water out.
“You want to try putting her down?” Mack asks me
“I’d love too” I smile widely
“Awesome, she has pjs, diaper, and lotion on her changing table, I’ll go and get a bottle ready for her” Mack says as she hands Liliana over to me before taking her to her room.
I go over to her changing table and dry her off, brush her hair, put on a diaper, then lotion, then her onesie. As she kept on wiping her eyes and yawning, I grabbed a book off of her shelf and went and sat in the rocker chair. I started to read to her, her eyes slowly starting to give in to the rest she so desperately wanted, but was woken up once Mack walked back in with her bottle, her hand’s immediately reaching out for it.
“You’re so good with her” Mack smiled down at me
“She’s just a great baby” I say
“I’m so ready for you to be a momma” she pouts at me
“Go back outside” I laugh pointing at the door as she rolls her eyes before walking out to the door, dimming the light on her way out.
Not too long after, Liliana was out, sleeping like the adorable baby she is. I slowly stood up and rocked her in my arms slowly while I walked over to her bed, slowly putting her down onto the mattress. I walk out of her room and slowly close the door, when I turn around, I’m face to face with Drew.
“Hey” I whisper putting my finger over my mouth, telling him to be quiet as he nods. I start to head to the stairs but that plan is changed when I feel his hand grab my wrist and pull me towards the guest room that I am staying in.
“What are you doing? Let go!” I whisper yell at him as he closes the door and turns to look at me
“What are you doing? Austin? Really?” He asks throwing his hand up
“What are you talking about?” I ask
“Are you trying to make me jealous or something?” He asks and I laugh
“Really? No, there is no part of me that is trying to make you jealous, what is so wrong with Austin?” I ask
“Because it’s Austin and it’s you” he says stepping closer to me
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask
“He doesn’t deserve you” he says
“There’s nothing going on between us Drew” I point out
“His hands are on you every chance they get, he obviously thinks there is something” Drew says, “you know what, if you can stand there and tell me that there is nothing towards me, at all, then I’ll leave it alone”
“Drew..” I say as I watch him step closer to me, putting one of his hands on my waist while the other is placed on my jaw, my hand landing on his bicep, while our eyes stay locked.
“Just tell me, tell me you don’t feel anything right now” he says leaning in closer, our nose’s touching. “And I’ll leave it alone” he says leaning in even closer to where our lips are touching lightly, both of our eyes shut.
“Drew we can’t do this” I tell him
“Tell me you don’t feel anything” he says, feeling every word off his lips against mine, just before pressing his lips against mine, now to kiss me. His lips felt so soft and right against mine, I couldn’t help but kiss him back, that is, until I hear Mack’s voice in the back of my head.
“We can’t do this” I push myself away from him quickly, “we made a deal, stick to it” I say turning to walk out of the room and rushing downstairs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life
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rose24207 · 2 days ago
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A lesson in Strength and Kindness
Summary: When Jacob stands up for a bullied classmate and gets in trouble, Lando and Y/N work together to ensure their son learns the value of both strength and kindness, teaching him that standing up for others can be just as important as following the rules.
Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff
TW: Mafia
A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
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The luxurious black car purred quietly as it pulled into the long driveway of the Norris estate.
Jacob sat in the backseat, arms crossed and lips pressed into a pout. His usual cheerful demeanor was nowhere to be found, and the chauffeur, Matteo, glanced nervously at the rearview mirror.
"Master Jacob, we're almost home," Matteo said gently, hoping to lift the boy's spirits.
Jacob didn’t reply, staring out the window with a deep frown.
When they reached the grand front entrance, Matteo stepped out and opened the door for Jacob.
The boy climbed out, clutching his school bag tightly, and trudged up the steps. Matteo watched him with concern before heading inside to inform his employers.
Lando was in his study, going over business papers, when Matteo knocked and entered.
"Sir, Jacob seems upset. I thought you’d want to know."
Lando frowned and stood immediately. "Where is he?"
"He’s in the living room, sir," Matteo replied.
Lando found Jacob slumped on the couch, staring at the floor. His school bag was tossed haphazardly on the carpet.
"Jacob," Lando said softly, sitting beside him. "What’s going on, buddy?"
Jacob didn’t look up. "Nothing."
"Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me," Lando said, ruffling his son’s hair. "Talk to me."
Before Jacob could reply, Y/N entered the room, her kind eyes immediately scanning her son’s face. "What’s wrong, sweetheart?"
Jacob hesitated, his small hands clutching his knees. "I got in trouble at school."
Y/N sat on his other side, concern etched across her face. "Trouble? Why? What happened?"
Jacob bit his lip, clearly reluctant to explain. Lando exchanged a glance with Y/N, who gave a small nod.
"Alright," Lando said. "We’ll call your teacher and get to the bottom of this. But first, tell us what happened, Jacob. We’re not mad, we just want to help."
Jacob finally met their eyes, tears brimming. "There’s this boy... Ethan. He was being mean to one of the younger kids at recess. He pushed him, so I told him to stop."
Y/N’s heart melted at her son’s protectiveness, but she stayed quiet, letting him finish.
"And then?" Lando prompted.
"And then Ethan said I should mind my own business. So I... I pushed him back," Jacob admitted, his voice trembling.
Y/N wrapped an arm around him. "Oh, Jacob."
"The teacher saw, and I got in trouble for pushing," Jacob said. "But I was just trying to help!"
Lando’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in. "Did you tell the teacher what Ethan was doing?"
Jacob nodded. "But she still said pushing wasn’t okay, no matter what."
Lando sighed, his hand running through his hair. "Alright. Your mum and I will talk to your teacher tomorrow. We’ll figure this out, okay?"
Jacob nodded, leaning into Y/N, who kissed the top of his head.
The next morning, Lando and Y/N arrived at Jacob’s school, escorted to the principal’s office by a nervous assistant. Though Lando’s reputation preceded him, Y/N’s calm and warm presence seemed to balance things out.
"Thank you for coming," Mrs. Bennett, Jacob’s teacher, said as they entered. She gestured for them to sit.
Lando’s expression was neutral, but his sharp gaze unsettled the teacher slightly. Y/N, as always, was the first to speak.
"Thank you for meeting with us," she said kindly. "Jacob told us what happened, and we wanted to better understand the situation."
Mrs. Bennett nodded. "Jacob is a good student, and he’s very kind to his classmates. But we have a strict policy against physical confrontation. Even if he was standing up for someone, pushing Ethan wasn’t the right way to handle it."
Lando’s jaw tensed, but he remained silent, letting Y/N lead.
"We completely understand," Y/N said, her voice gentle but firm. "And we’ve spoken to Jacob about how there are other ways to handle conflict. But we’re also concerned about Ethan’s behavior. Jacob said he was bullying another child."
Mrs. Bennett hesitated. "Ethan’s behavior has been noted before, and we are addressing it. However, Jacob’s actions still violated the rules."
Lando finally spoke, his voice calm but cold. "So, the bully gets a slap on the wrist, and the kid who stands up for someone else gets punished?"
Mrs. Bennett flinched slightly under his intense gaze. "That’s not what I’m saying, Mr. Norris."
"It’s what it sounds like," Lando said. "Jacob shouldn’t have pushed, sure. But it seems to me like he was doing the job your staff failed to do—protecting a vulnerable kid."
Y/N placed a hand on Lando’s arm, grounding him. "We’re not here to place blame," she said, her tone still soothing.
"We just want to make sure Jacob isn’t discouraged from standing up for what’s right. Perhaps there’s a way to teach him and Ethan a lesson without making Jacob feel like he’s in the wrong for helping someone."
Mrs. Bennett nodded slowly, visibly relaxing under Y/N’s kind demeanor. "You’re absolutely right. I’ll speak with both boys again and make sure Jacob understands that his intentions were good, even if his actions weren’t ideal."
"Thank you," Y/N said with a smile.
Later that evening, Jacob was back to his cheerful self, playing in the garden with Amelia. Lando watched from the patio, arms crossed as he leaned against the railing.
"You handled that well," he said, glancing at
Y/N.
"You mean we handled it well," she corrected, nudging him playfully.
Lando smirked. "I was ready to pull Jacob out of that school."
"I know," Y/N said, laughing softly. "But sometimes, a little kindness goes a long way."
Lando looked at her, his expression softening. "That’s why I’ve got you."
Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched their children play. "Jacob’s a good boy," she said. "He gets that from you, you know."
Lando chuckled. "I think he gets that from you, actually."
As the sun set over the estate, the Norris family found peace in their little corner of the world—a balance of strength, kindness, and love.
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Thank you for reading!
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hybridhideoutstory · 2 days ago
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CHAPTER 2
Payton could feel themself shifting in their bed, stirring and tossing around. “Woah” they thought in their groggy state. “That was one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had in my life.” They heard knocking on their bedroom door. 
“Oh my gosh.” Payton thought “it’s Sunday. I gotta get ready to see my grandparents. They got up and rushed to the door. “I can’t wait to see grandma and grandpa, wonder what sweets and treasures they have for me this week.” They opened the door and low and behold,
It was Omf, they Young Adult novel hybrid 
“Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the-“
They slammed the door in his face.
They rushed to their bed and grabbed the orange stained pillow from last night’s sobbing session, then promptly screamed bloody murder into it. Of course! This stupid dream was real it was all real! There’s no escape from Lizard boy and his crazy Hybrid shenanigans. They walked back to the door and opened it again to see that Omf was still standing in the doorway as cheery as the when the door was served to him.
He cleared his throat, “Good morning Pay Pay! :] ready for the tour?”
“I’m ready to kill myself right about now…” 
“NOOO!!! :[! No no no! Look I know this is hard for you but the hideout is gonna be great alright??? You’re gonna be okay a promise!” He peered into Payton’s room and saw a gift basket sitting on their nightstand. He walked in and held it up
“Look! You got some goodies! Isn’t that fun? ,:]”
“I did not say you could enter my room.”
He sat on the ledge of the bed and invited Payton the sit with him. “It’s just a smart idea to have someone who knows things help you go through this, there could be important stuff I here!” He started shuffling through the basket wondering what Payton was given. 
 Payton protested. “Hey that’s my new stuff!” 
“I’m just checking if something is in here. Aha! Yes I found it!” He held out a pamphlet that looked like an advert for a children’s story time at the local library. It was all cutesy with bright colors and “How to Care for Me! A Hybrids’s care book!” Written in rainbow comic sans. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
Payton reluctantly flipped through the pages, which had random care facts that seemed to be answered by someone writing in a pink glitter pen. For example, the pamphlet would ask, “And to eat my hybrid needs…” and Pink Pen would reply with, “No food, No water, Nothing except for paint, if the hybrid loses too much paint the poor thing dies. Just make sure it eats Acrylic and drinks some watercolor so it can be healthy.” 
“Jesus Christ…”
“Hey >:[!”
Payton flipped through even more, each page felt more dehumanizing Than the next, Payton wasn’t vibing with the way Pink Pen referred to them as an “it”.
“For fun my hybrid can do…” “NO WATER!!!! Water will KILL it when the water distills in the paint. Absolutely NO water unless it’s mixed in with watercolor paint. No swimming!!!” 
Payton was on the verge of orange tears again, no swimming, no normal showers, they couldn’t even eat their favorite foods anymore! Omf was constantly over their shoulder trying to absorb the information from the pamphlet. 
“Hey!” He rummaged through Payton’s gifts again. “Whoever sent you all this gave you some paints! If your hungry that is.” 
“You know what?” Payton said trembling. “Fine! You know my life basically screwed now anyway!” Orange started to bead from their eyes. “Might as well drink this, whatever the hell harvest red color is! That’s just what freaks like me need to stay alive haha…!” They uncapped the paint and brought it up to their mouth and started eating. 
Surprisingly, the paint didn’t taste like anything chemical or the sorts. It tasted like crisp apples and cherries, it was delicious. 
“Holy… what the…”
“What’s wrong?” Omf asked
“Nothing it just- tastes good?” 
“Ooo lemme try! :]” Omf Without thinking took Payton precious food and took a swig. He quickly spit is out just as fast as he chugged it. 
“It just tastes like paint!” He cried as he coughed as spat the paint all over Payton’s bed. 
“Ew stop that! Not on my bed! Stop gaging all over my goddamn bed!” 
“I’m sorry :[“ He said. “I’ll just be outside. When your ready for the tour just come outside. He then left Payton alone in their room. 
Payton was left to contemplate more things in their room. Now they wish that had swam in their local pool more often, because they couldn’t do that anymore. Also, why did that paint taste like a delicious combination of fresh red fruit? Does all paint taste like that? Or does the flavor change with each color? They didn’t want to think about any of this at the moment, it was hurting their head. They figured it was best to distract themself from their misfortune.
Payton opened the door. “Okay Lizard boy” they said as if the first Thirty minutes of the day had exhausted them. “What are you going to show me first?” 
Omf perked up, wagging his tail. “O O I CAN SHOW YOU THE ARCADE :]>!!!” He grabbed Payton by the blue hand and sprinted with them to the elevator. “WOAH!” Payton shouted. “SLOW DOWN!” 
Omf practically slammed the poor kid into the elevator wall and clicked one of the big red buttons. The label next to this one saying “arcade”. The two descended, or ascended? Payton couldn’t tell. 
The door dinged at they were in a maze of mechanical marvels. Tons of games and machines of the sort lit up the room. Payton felt they they were in the Dave n Busters headquarters. “Pretty OMFTASTIC huh?” Said omftastic Omf. The two wandered along in the neon paradise for a bit. Payton noticed other kids playing around in the arcade. 
“Who are these kids?” Asked Payton. 
“They’re other hybrids of course silly! Not all hybrids look as hybrid as you y’know. Though most of these guys must be video game hybrids, there’s been a spike of those lately from what I’ve heard.” 
“Woah.” Payton paused. “There can be more than one hybrid of something?” 
“Yeah pretty much.” Omf said. “Human teens are more susceptible to certain demigod possessions. Also kinda depends on the demigod too y’know. Like for example, I don’t think the one that got you is very fond of hybrids. That explains why your the only one of your kind.”
“Wow. I feel so special.” Payton said sarcastically. 
“Hey don’t be like that…we still don’t know what your fully capable of.” 
Payton scoffed. “What could paint to anyway? Make whatever I paint come to life?”
“Hmmm” Omf scratched his beard, or what can barely be considered a beard. “That sounds possible, but not really effective in combat.” 
“Gee, thanks.” 
Suddenly a kid popped up from behind Payton and tried to whack the living color out of them with a cheap plastic sword that was so amazing that the green light started to die. 
“Hey!” Omf shouted. “What is wrong with you? >:[!”
“Level up!” Said the kid before he ran off he spoke like he was trapped in a PlayStation 1, but other than that he damn near looked exactly human. 
Payton got up grasping their head. “God… what, what was that.”
“You just got hit in the head by one of the kids.”
“Oh so he thinks he’s hot stuff?” Payton claimed in a daze. “Well what’s his stick gonna do against a gun? God I wish I had a gun.” 
“Okay… maybe we should move on to the next part of the tour…” Omf picked Payton up by the shoulders and took them to the elevator. 
The elevator dinged. “This is our next stop!” Omf said cheerily. “It’s my favorite:]!” Payton observed that they were in a training Dojo. There were dummies and weapons all over the place. Omf picked up a sword from one of the racks. He sighed dreamily as he looked around and sniffed the air with his lizard nose as if he was on a hiking trip to the great glorious outdoors. “Awesome ain’t it?”
“No” Payton responded flatly.
“>:0! Uh well your gonna be spending a lot of time here Pay Pay, after all, Luna said your gonna be on patrol! Which means you have to train with me! And I’m gonna be the best trainer you’ve ever seen got it?”
“ ‘Kay” 
“I- uh oh…” Omf sounded defeated but he didn’t push Payton any further. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere else now.” 
When Payton and Omf got off the elevator again, they were In a massive movie theatre. “This is the hideout movie theatre!” Omf exclaimed. “Since hybrids can’t really go out and see the latest stuff, we ask the demigod of cinema to supply us with all the all the latest films. Plus you can basically ask for any movie one night and they’ll play it for you in the theatre. It’s awesome, and all the snacks… are free…. >:].” 
Payton was amazed. Now THIS was something they could vibe with. Imagine all the sick film dates they could take Lynn on. Or all the dumb comedies they could watch with their friends. Just how many memories they could make with their friends. Oh right, they could never talk to them again. 
“Uh… this is neat I guess. I’ve been meaning to see that new My girlfriend is a goth Vampire movie… I was… gonna watch it with my girlfriend.” 
“Oh… :D.” Omf suddenly realized the pain in Payton’s voice. “I’m- so sorry.”
“It’s alright I guess, I suppose you miss your friends and family right?” 
“Well- erm, uh…” 
Suddenly a bell rung through the through the entire building. A voice on PA system rung out. “Good evening residents of the Hypnos Hideout, United States. As of this moment the cafeteria will be serving lunches. Have a good afternoon.” 
“Welp!” Omf said, losing his previous train of thought. “It’s lunch time! Uh- don’t worry I’m sure they’ve made accommodations to the menu for you Pay Pay! Come on let’s go! :D” 
When the go to the cafeteria floor, it looked like one of those food courts you’d find in a mall. The room was decked out with star shaped lights, moons and dreamy clouds. It looked more like nap time than lunch time. Teenagers and adults gathered in tables. Some of them looked like normal humans. Except maybe their eyes were an odd color. Some of them had horns, some had tails, some had big feathery wings, some looked like cyborgs. They all varied table by table. It was odd seeing all these people, Payton could feel some glares of the other kids. They passed by a group of what mainly consisted of girls, “O M G, who’s the freak with Mr protagonist over there?” The whole table had kids with small pink horns, some of them had pretty pink wings. 
“Don’t listen to them Pay Pay,” Omf said quietly. Those are the drama hybrids, they’ll try to get under your skin. Just try to ignore them. Let’s get you some food. It should be at the accommodations booth.” 
They walked up to the booth together. Omf stepped up “Hey um, we were wondering if you had any Paint, for Payton Varro?” The dude behind the counter sighed and reluctantly gave a palette of the six basic colors, and a cup of green watercolor paint. He looked as if the same breed of magic night creature as Luna. Omf got a strawberry treat from another stand. 
Payton took some scoops of paint from the pallet with a spoon. None of these were as flavorful as the harvest red they tried that morning and the watercolor paint just tasted like water, but it was doable. The pair wondered the room looking for a place to sit until Payton spotted a round table in a corner. 
“Bingo!” they said “let’s sit here to avoid those stupid drama girls, don’t worry this works at school all the time lizard boy, just sit in the corner to get away from whatever bull is going on.” 
“Uh… Payton.” Omf said wearily. “I don’t think you should be sitting there…” 
“Why not?” They retorted. “No one’s sitting here!” 
“Yeah well… she usually sits there. I don’t think that’s a good seat, let’s go somewhere else :[.” 
“And be bullied by some pink weirdoes? I’ll pass.”
Suddenly Omf stiffened up. “Payton… Payton she’s right behind you. Get out of there now.” 
“Oh what? Is some big ugly monster behind me? Yeah rig-.”
BAM
Someone had hit the table square in the center. The table was completely destroyed and Payton’s food had gotten everywhere. They stumbled and landed on the floor by Omf’s feet. 
“WHO YOU CALLEN MONSTER, COLOR GIRL?” Bellowed one of the largest hybrids in the hideout. She stood about six and a half feet tall, she was a large girl, but she was only 15. She had two horns on her head, but one was bent and contorted. She had a large maroon tail, but some of it was wrapped in bandages. She wore a purple leather jacket with spikes on her shoulders, the shirt under it was black with a skull on it. She wore chains around her wrist and neck. Like she was a rabid dog who had to be contained. Her hair was the color of a burning fire. The look In her eyes said, “I’m gonna kill somebody today.” 
“HEY >:[!” Omf protested. “Payton is NOT a girl,  and they didn’t know you said there Pattie! They’re new! Cut the poor pal some slack!” 
Pattie picked payton up by their head as if they were a rag doll. “Look, Dragon guy, I see a punk in my seat, they get kicked out.” She tossed Payton across the cafeteria with full force. All the hybrids saw them flying though the air. Payton hit the wall at full force, and fell to the ground. 
“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” Omf cried out. 
“Nothin, kid just looked really throwable.” 
Payton groaned on the floor, they had no idea on how none of their bones were broken. They looked over at where Pattie and Omf were standing. They used all the force in their body to stand up. 
“Ooo!” Said one of the drama hybrids from the corner of the room. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” 
Suddenly all the hybrids were calling for a fight. Chanting the word over and over, which gave Pattie an unnecessary strike of confidence. 
“Well!” She turned to Omf Smugly. “I guess everyone here wants to see a fight, hm?” She cracked her knuckles. “I guess I gotta give them the beat down of a lifetime.”
The moment Payton heard that they knew they had to be screwed. I mean, this girl stood over a foot taller than them at it looked like she ate weights for breakfast. Plus, they had no clue on how to fight. Maybe they should’ve trained with Omf for a bit. All they knew was that they did not want to get hit by this girl. 
She charged toward Payton like an angry bull. Omf was petrified. All of the other hybrids stood on in curiosity and awe. As Payton watched her get closer, they saw the fist about to land on them. They flinched, closed their eyes, and prepared for the worst. 
BONK!
“WHAT?” Shouted Pattie.
BONK!
BANG!
“WHAT IS THIS?” 
Payton was just as confused as Pattie. They slowly opened their eyes. None of Pattie’s punches had actually landed, but why? Payton looked down at their hands. They had fused together, forming a teal color. They weren’t shaped like hands anymore, instead their hands had formed a giant shield. 
BANG!
BONK!
“HEY LOSER! STOP HIDING BEHIND THAT SHIELD AND FIGHT ME!” 
BANG!
“:0” said Omf. “PAYTON!!! :D! LOOK AT WHAT YOUR DOING!!! THAT’S INCREDIBLE!” He shouted, he really wanted Payton to know he had their back.
Suddenly an idea crossed their mind, they morphed the shield into two big teal boxing gloves on their hands. While Pattie was in shock from the sudden change, they wound up and hit her square in the gut. She crouched over in pain. 
“YES!” Payton shouted. They looked at Omf with a proud smile on their face. “Hah! I did it!” 
Omf didn’t look as convinced. 
WHACK!
Just like that, Payton was out cold
When Payton opened their eyes, they were in the infirmary again, this time Pattie was laying on the bed next to them. At their feet stood a doctor, poor Omf, and a VERY angry Luna. 
“So.” She said in a very disapproving tone. “I hope you two are proud of the commotion you caused today. Because we need to replace a wall.” 
Then flew the accusations of “she/they started it!” But Luna wasn’t hearing any of that. “The two of you,” she said sternly. A day of washing dishes together, and I’m only being generous because Payton is new. Omf, watch over them for me.” 
“Yes ma’am…” Omf said wearily. 
Luna walked out of the room. 
The doctor kid spoke up, he was another one of the purple folk who helped around the hideout, he looked more like a lamb with his hair looking like a lavender puffball on his head, “uhh, the good news is that none of you got any major injuries. You two will be fine in like an hour” 
“Thanks Puff.” Omf sounded defeated.
“Hey no problem and,” he placed his and on Omf’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It was out of your control.” 
Omf sighed. “Okay :[…” 
Payton shifted in the bed. Today was a mess, and it was all their fault. They wanted more than anything to just go home and get out of this crazy nightmare, to be a normal human again. They were getting sick of the nonsense. 
“Hey,” 
Payton turned to see the voice came from Pattie. “What…?” 
“Your kinda alright kid, I’m sorry for tossin’ you like that.” 
“I’m sorry for hitting you like that…” 
“Eh, it happens. Sometime you just gotta hit somebody y’know.” 
“Eh…”
Omf interjected “Well I think we shouldn’t of fought each other >:[! That wasn’t very nice of either of you!”
“We’re sorry” the both of them said. 
“Well you should be! Now you two get some rest, you have dishes to get to tomorrow.”
<<PREV (you are here) NEXT>>
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cutieeva · 2 days ago
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Oh shit ! I truly thought that (Y/N) has gone mad but it wasn't that way when I read the second episode !! 😔😔 I am sad for girly yet excited to read the next that's why please please please update fast 😘😘 (Also I love your writing, officially in love with you)
Bullied
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Female Reader
Warnings : Bullying. Violence.
⌜ Thank you dearie for loving my art of writing, it never fails to makes me happy and here an belated update. ⌟
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒
Loving someone itself is an act of selfish so why is leaving the relationship seen so heinous ? Sometimes one's own sake of happiness is needed more than another's if fallen out of love. The sooner (Y/N) understand the better.
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"What is going on in that table ?"
"Is the girl okay ?"
"Why is she making a big deal about all ?"
"He is such a lovely boy yet she is so nasty accusing him for cheating ?"
"If I had a boyfriend like that I would die from happiness".
"He should break up with her".
"She seem toxic".
"(Y/N) ! Stop it and get up". Sophia's irritated voice reach her ears and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel all is jumbled. All is unclear. All is numb because does her suffering doesn't matter ? Yes, perhaps she is overreacting yet is it her fault when he was the one to lie about everything ?
Slowly her (E/C) eyes met Sophia's and other accountances she calls friends and her heart dropped.
Her pale face in snarl.
Other's cheeks red from thoroughly shame.
Another can't even share a glance at her.
The beautiful woman standing in awkward.
The guests are whispering, increasingly harsh, scary and the workers worried.
And lastly Cameron, stood looking hurt. In pain than she was and all her beliefs, reality begin distorting.
Is she a nuisance ?
Is she really overreacting over everything like others ?
Is she the one in wrong for not trusting him ?
Is being dated on bet and built an relationship on lies is alright as long as the faulty party apologize ?
If once the trust she believes was broken in the worst way, then is she the one to create drama ?
Are lies not serious ?
Do lies have little meaning ? Is playing with someone else's feeling is a small price for a relationship she didn't even realize ?
Is she overreacting ? "Am I overreacting ?" Despite people surround her, her own few people even the boyfriend she loved once yet why she suddenly feels so alone ? Lonely ? And hopeless ?
Daze with piling doubts and thousand pairs of eyes watching her, her hand yanked by Cameron. "I am sorry, I apologize for the scene". Smiling like a good man he hold her shoulder and walk her limp body to his car he drove.
In the entirety none dare break the ice in air while Cameron was in disappointment, (Y/N) in utter confusion. All she discover is that she has fall out of love, maybe from the moment he said 'I am now' in front of the men along losing herself. For the fear to let go she latched onto him, gifting him the second chance only to realize her suspicious, love turn into anger and anger form an hatred. An hatred she didn't knew. An hatred so deep she was unable to see his goodness anymore only searching faults.
Her entire being of happy, blunt, forgiving shaped into such a stranger her own eyes have harder to see from the clear fog. She shaped into a vicious, incredulous person. A person she never even dreamed to become.
"Get off". Cameron's that soft, smooth voice rip her from the creeping shadows of words inside her mind and her haze gaze glance to find herself house. His home they decide to turn into their love nest.
Sliding down from the car, she walked towards the lift without waiting for him to follow and press the cold metal button. Her eyes dried from the tears that caught her reflection in the shining metal and she couldn't help find the dark circles weight heavy under her eyes, rim edges red and hair— a mess with barely appropriate clothes on. She looks nothing alike the neat, fresh (Y/N).
She looks wasted, used and worn off self— the door of the lifts snap her out again, she blink twice before stepping in properly. Their floor came faster than she expect and the moment the doorknob twist open. She close her eyes ready to be face with angry lashing, words like knives twisting her guts yet none came.
Rather he remove his coat, wash his hands and smile. "What shall we eat then ?"
She merely stare at him.
He continue to smile. The smile she doesn't find warming, sweet.
"Maybe something different. Like Pollo al Ajillo, in English known as Garlic Chicken ? Hmm ?" A single word didn't slip her lips, standing at her roots.
And without her reply he decided. She watched him not moving her an inch cooking, smiling like a normal couple. Minutes bled into hours and little to no care he serve the food, finally ripping her from her roots and sat her beside him.
Stomach churn in no hunger and eyes burden to open, she look at him. "Let's take a break". The metal spoon his fingers held pause, his smile creased.
"I-I need spac—".
"You don't". He cut off smoothly. His smile wider to it's length than before and the spoon between his fingers lay on the wooden table. "I know what happen today was a little overboard but do not worry. It was my fault after all and it's alright. I forgive you". Soft his eyes he push the plate of food to her, an gesture to eat.
However she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't rip from the oblivious face, acting all normal, when nothing is. Nothing is normal. Their relationship is falling apart, their love draft from one another and trust long out of the picture.
He so easily utter his denial. She doesn't need space, perhaps she doesn't but wouldn't he at least ask the reason behind ? Even if it's known still ask and not play the game of pretend. It's exhausting because they are a real couple not actors in a play.
"Would you not ask me why ?" Her voice in end crack.
"Would it make a difference ?"
"Yes, a lot". Honestly she shares, it will help her a lot to understand the real Cameron, the one who she fell for or the one she saw when the illusion shatter.
He turn his head to her. "We are doing alright. It will be fine. Look am I not improving myself ?" No, she only sees him now complying to her wishes easily.
"I need space". She look away, his face reminding her of those cherish days. "We both need space". She finished, adamant on seperating even if it's for a moment she wants to breath, the tightness on her chest is too much and the alarming mistrust.
Once a pot is broken, even with the finest potter's hands can't fix the remained lines of past.
"Okay". To her surprise he agreed "I see, you need time to cool your head". With that he stood up and went to their shared bedroom leaving her and the cold food behind.
Her finger hold the spoon to take a bite of the dish however few inches from her lips she pause. Staring at the food and can't help but cry of unable to eat at the end. Merely thinking how without waiting for her choice, he cooked the food, only giving an illusion of choices.
When one announce their break up. People's first reaction is : 
"Did he cheat ?"
"Did you cheat ?"
"Is he abusive ?"
"Manipulative ?"
"Controlling ?"
"A bet". (Y/N) would say. "I was a bet he was dared to date and in process he fell for me but he always treated not less than a princess and after I found out he begged, confessed his love. From then he always is perfect. Even ignoring my overreaction". All the voices stopped altogether. The harsh, doubtful all pause because in this picture nothing is wrong apart from the fact he was a liar, who lied and fixed himself for better. He really did but can it patch the wounds of her shattered faith in him ?
People always say second chance can change lives, do wonders and in her she saw. She can see why they give second chances yet she can't bring herself to love anymore. She is angry, stuck on the phrase where all laughed at her like a clown, whispering, betting for how long would she last.
Was she a human or a puppet ? He never defended her, he never share his thoughts with her. She doesn't even know him anymore. She really really is lost.
Even walking towards the metal gates of university seem heavy, scary. Her mind already twisted her vision of people laughing, hating her. Being the center of attention she so wants to be away from. Her (E/C) eyes glance around walking to her class recalling not to stumble upon them or him. She is enough exhausted. She doesn't need more.
BANG! She flinched, her nerves jolting.
BANG! Her eyelids snapped shut, shielding herself from the brutality.
BANG! The sound of flesh colliding with metal reverberated through her ears, leaving a buzzing ache. A human body, crumpling like a rag doll.
"Poor him. He should quit or complain". Not so subtle whispers like flicker of fire circle around, reaching her ears.
"Shouldn't he die at this rate ?" Cruel.
"What a bore. Really ? Everyday ? Isn't it such a nuisance—". Cruel. So, so cruel. Just because a person can't help himself doesn't give these people the chance to pity him. To paint him— the victim the cause of his own suffering. His silence was twisted into consent, his helplessness fuel for their merciless ridicule.
Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Laughter like devilish cackles echoed, faces feigning sympathy, eyes gleaming with fox-like innocence. Cowardly souls, masking their true nature.
She, too, wore a mask, hypocrisy veiling her own darkness.
That's why in a blink of an eye. Her once neat clean palm painted in crimson, stretch of iron reeking the air, painful grunts and horried screams and distorted yells is making no sense to her. She can't understand the aching in her palm, the cries of the familiar boy's underneath her, chanting of word fight and her own tears rolling down.
"Fight. Fight. Fright. Fright". The crowd roar fueling her more and more and more. Why are they encouraging ? Yet why does it feel like she is revelling in it ?
"(Y/N) ! Stop beating Adrian". Oh. Her palms ache because she is punching his face, painted in crimson because it's his blood, cries belong to Adrian who lay beneath her helpless like that boy he was seconds ago using as a ragdoll.
How wonderful.
She can't stop. She punch and punch and punch and punch uttering only three words. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry". Not to the bully— no never to Adrian. Never to the boy who is violent to innocent. It's to the victim, to the unknown jester of everyone's joke. For Everyone's play. For the system that enable Adrian's cruelty into fun.
She is sorry for blind. She is sorry for foolish. She is sorry for being coward. She is sorry for ignoring him. She is sorry for wearing mask of pretense herself. She is sorry for falling into the lies of Cameron. She is sorry for saying yes to his proposal. She is sorry for overreacting. She is sorry for suspecting. She is sorry for losing trust. She is sorry for not being happy with a perfect boyfriend.
She is sorry for fell in love.
She is sorry for.....everything.
To herself.
To everything.
Dry tears stain her (S/C) cheeks as in empty space she stare, leaning on the chair in front of director's office. The woman's words faded into background noise, inaudible over the cacophony of her thoughts.
Her mind replayed the chaos: the frantic struggle, the flash of anger, the blur of fists. She couldn't recall who intervened, pulling her back from the brink of destruction. By then, he had already crumpled, unconscious. Her tangled hair bore witness to the scuffle, matted from the grasping hands of his minions, few blood dotted her blue jeans, a crimson constellation from her own nose. Her torn t-shirt hung askew, shoulder exposed while he— lay worse. Broken. Lifeless almost.
Yet no remorse stirred in her stomach, surprisingly. Instead, a lingering sense of justification lingered, eclipsed only by the anguish she felt for the victim. The one she had been compelled to defend, driven by a primal urge to protect she only dreamed.
"(Y/N), can you hear me?" The director's voice cut through the tension. "Do you comprehend the gravity of your situation? You're at risk of expelled !" An humorless laugh almost slip from (Y/N).
Expelled for what ? Punching a deserving scum to death while he punch an innocent boy to death when his skin wasn't even healed from the stitches of wounds Adrian left on him ?
(E/C) eyes stare at the female director who's blue glossy eyes stare at (Y/N) like she was a demon of chao when in her view, the real corrupt could be the adult, this lady who blind these physical, emotion abuse. Pain so small like (Y/N)'s bet and huge imprinting like that boy's scars for eternal to remember. Become something that etched in their memories, their experiences, though grave and painful, would be reduced to cautionary stories, diluted by time and retelling. The true weight of their suffering would remain unspoken, lost amidst the faint whispers of a forgotten past.
The tense standoff ended when the director's blue eyes darted past (Y/N), as if catching something She sighed audibly, her expression softening. "Get out. Reflect on your actions and the reasons for your two-week suspension. Expulsion is off the table." She mused confusing (Y/N)'s daze self a little and when she stood up, walking out of the room.
She understand meeting his concern eyes. Her boyfriend must have used his power.
Cameron swallowed under her intense gaze, part his lips to say when she continue to walk, aware of the pain in her body suddenly.
Alone in the empty hallway, she felt a fleeting sense of peace, liberated from the weight of others' judgments. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she moved, ghost-like. Her eyes drifted to the scattered belongings on the floor, remnants of the chaos. She bent to gather them, her movements slow and deliberate.
A sudden twinge of pain shot through her knee as she crouched. (Y/N) winced, noticing the cut, a crimson gash on her pale skin. She gingerly touched the wound, her fingers tracing the tender edge. This time she felt like crying with clarity, like she knew what she was crying for along a need. Tears swell within her (E/C) eyes waiting to fall.
"It will hurt more if you cry". Calmly she gaze beside her. To the lockers where the boy slumped, his face still smeared with blood. The indifference surrounding him was palpable, as if no one cared about his suffering. (Y/N) press her lips, pulling a white handkerchief to hand him.
He accepted the handkerchief, his fingers brushing against hers. With gentle movements, he wiped the blood from his face, revealing a canvas of bruises and wounds beneath. For the first time, (Y/N) saw his true complexion – pale, with a hint of rosy undertones. The vibrant hues of his injuries – purple, blue, and crimson – stood in stark contrast to his delicate skin.
As the blood was wiped away, his features emerged, and (Y/N) noticed the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his nose, and the softness of his lips.
"I am sorry". It fell out before she could revise or add.
"Don't be". He shake his head. "Everyone's coward. Even me". (Y/N) desire to protest of his own situation.
"I am talking about you". She blink. "You are Cameron's girlfriend". He utter like a fact. "All business major knew about a bet on a girl. They just didn't knew who until one of Cameron's friend told about your relationship making everyone realize who she is but wasn't sure". Her breath hitched. So they did. All did.
"I too, because I am from business major. Yet I was a coward to not say the truth or at least..." He tailed off. "Warn you". He finished heavy silence weight the air. (Y/N) inhale, not finding words to explain the mess of feelings she is having. Indeed both were jester of everyone's joke.
As she scoffed, her gaze trailed his movements, expecting him to walk away. But instead, he swooped down, his lithe frame folding into a crouch beside her. His amber eyes locked onto her knee, the cut a tiny, crimson gash.
Without a word, he reached out, his fingertips grazing her skin as he applied a band-aid. A shiver danced up her spine at the gentle touch.
"You know you're also being bullied?" His voice was low, concerned. Her eyes lift to his focused ones on her cut, whispering a "No".
"Bullying is not only physical you know. It can be emotional too. And what is happening to you is bullying too. An emotional one where he took advantage of your trust, then play with your feelings, manipulate you into staying in the relationship when you clearly in daze of the complexity and not in right state. If he truly cared about you, wouldn't he have asked how you felt or given you the space to think? Wouldn't he have prioritized your well-being over his own desires? But instead, he rushed you into this relationship, disregarding your boundaries and emotions". His words felt like sting of bees she couldn't process as the image of Cameron's pained face when she accused of him cheating in front of others.
His pure happiness when he pull the chair for her in front of her parents.
His patience when she was crying so suddenly and at the restaurant.
Her colleagues Sofia and others disturbed faces and harsh whispers.
"No. No. He is not perfect, yes. He is not good entirely. He is a liar but he improved. It is I who has problem. I fall out of love, mistrust him and..." Her throat felt dry to speak and she swallowed having difficulty seeing. The problem lies in her. She is the odd, fallen one.
The boy finally gaze his amber eyes and said. "If Cameron really is a good person. Not perfect, good. Then why in the first place are you lashing out and angrily pushing your anger on Adrian ? And in a mess mindset ?" It left (Y/N) shunned. Because truly did she blames Cameron for her misery. Hates him for his mockery of perfection. However never did she blame him for his entanglement to this relationship based on lies for her was truth.
"Let's assume Cameron is a good person who genuinely cares for you and loves you deeply, but isn't able to let you go. However, if being with him no longer brings you happiness— not because of his flaws, but because your feelings have changed and you're staying solely out of guilt or obligation, don't you think it's time to reevaluate? For your own sake, shouldn't you prioritize your happiness even if it's selfishness ?"
As he stood, dusting off his pants, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes held a gentle intensity. "After all, loving someone is, in itself, a selfish act," he added, his voice low and thoughtful.
"I am saying this because you came out of your cowardness for me and I for you". the boy said, wincing as he gingerly touched his jaw. "I should get to the nurse," he added, his voice laced with discomfort.
She swiftly stood up, her hand brushing against his arm with an awkward yet tender touch. "Let me help."
"No, it's okay..." He trailed off, his mind reeling as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His legs weakened, and he swayed precariously, almost toppling over.
(Y/N)'s eyes widened in alarm as she swiftly grasped his arms, her grip tight.
𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅
☾ ────────
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lovelijooni · 3 days ago
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“CRASHING DOWN”
Lady Uchiha.
Chap. 1/?
⚠️ this book contains: angst,fluff, swearing, violence.
Read on Wattpad here
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⇝shame、 mitski.
0:5:22 ━━❍─────4:31
"Cmon sasuke let's get to playing before it's too dark!!" The young girl giggled taking the raven haired boys hand in hers as she carelessly ran through the Uchiha compound. The sun still high in the sky, awaiting for their great day ahead. His eyes glimmered as he gave in to the pull of the energetic girl running along with her giggling and laughing like a child. A happy child.
"Hey you two kiddos! Slow down would ya ur gonna knock someone over!"
The old lady scolded from her small shop causing their running to halt as they let out an embarrassed giggle slowing their pace. "Alright granny!" They snickered as the elder shook her head, remembering her young days. Watching the two kids chatter as amongst themselfs. Walking with a little bit of pep in their step.
"You know I can't wait to become a kunoichi! I hope I'll be just as good as my daddy."
The girl beamed at the slightly taller boy.
"Yeah! My brothers a prodigy I can't wait to surpass him." He said with determination in his eyes looking at the path forward. "Sasu-" she stopped walking as she looked at the ground seemingly deep in thought.
"Yea?" He questioned. Concern writen on his face. "Do you, pinky promise to never forget me? Can we be best friends forever?" Pleading eyes looked back at him as a light blush brushed upon his soft features. "Of course n/n. Pinky promise." He smiled shyly inter locking their pinky's. Her face lightened up as she began to approached their special tree. It was a wisteria that stood tall with thick trunk. Intricate weaves of stems and roots made the atmosphere feel ethereal. It rested its long life On an island within a small lake.
The two balance on the large roots that stick up from under the lake to make it to the island. "Hm what should we do.. hmm. I know! Hide in seek. Do u wanna hide or seek first?" She asked anticipating his answer. "I guess I'll hide first" he smiled as she began to count down from 30. He soon found a hiding spot in a tree that had an unusual opening in its trunk.
"Ready or not hear I come!!" She exclaimed as her small voice rang through the forest beginning her search for Sasuke. She remembers what direction she heard his footsteps from and taking that path she hears giggling from inside a tree. Smugly snickering she sneaks up behind the mysterious tree and-
"Boo!"
He jumped from out of the tree. Wrapping his arms around her as they giggled. Pulling her to the ground they laughed hard rolling around as they hugged. The sun began to set. Golden sun rays beamed through the cracks of the forest. Shining down on the two. He takes second to admire your laughing features as in a dazed he is suddenly broken free from a voice.
"Brother. It's time to come home."
A male voice demanded. Your childish banter proves your stopped as Sasukes smile dropped. Hurriedly standing from his stop and dusting off his dark clothes. Stunned u remain on the ground watching as sasukes brother itachi began to walk away sasuke along with him. "Well I'll see you tomorrow n/n" he grunted lowly. "Well uh.. bye sasuke!" She hesitated. Met with a soft hand wave from sasuke. Not daring to glance back at her.
His brother alway gave her the heebje jeebies. Sure he was cute and strong but she would make sure to steer clear of him. Sighing to herself as she makes her way to her home.
.
.
..
.
"Momma papa I'm home!!" She yelled. Beginning a search for her mom and dad. The smell of dinner filling her nostrils as she happily made her way to the kitchen.
"Welcome back honey- your home earlier than usual did something happen?" She questioned raising a brow at the small girl "yea.. assumes brother came and scooped him away from me. You know he'd been doing that often I wonder what he's busy with." She wondered speaking her thoughts out loud. "Well he is on a path to be a very strong Ninja he must be training" she said. Handing the h/c haired girl a bowl of soup she made her own. Sitting across from her. Saying grace before the dig in. She watches as her daughter sips on the soup happily. Doing a little food dance she giggled "mommy why are u staring at me?" She asked. A fond grin washed on the mother.
"Your just, so special sweetie. Don't let anyone dim your light. My little lady" she teased pinching the girls cheek. Small hands swatting away as the two ruptured into laughter. Finishing her soup she sighed "well I'm full
Mommy I'll see in the morning good night!" She chirped making her way up the stairs. Her mother smiled "see you two sweetheart"
She peeked out of her bedroom window. The house across was sasukes. Watching as he rested his head out of his window she smirked as she saw this as an opportunity. Grabbing a stone from out of one of her mini plants and pelting it across to the bored boy 
Mischievously giggling as hes looked for the culprit. She sighed- sneaking into her bed.
.
.
.
The screams. The screams oh where they wretched as the iron sent pang in the back of your throat. in the bathroom she hid. She hid while her parents got slaughtered. "MY DAUGHTER. PLEASE SPARE MY DAUG-" the sound of blood splattering caused whole world to stop. Everything went silent. She stared at her cowardly frame in the mirror. Her eyes. They radiated a raging red. Thick globs of blood ran down her weak body. Whipping her head she heard footsteps.
...
The door crept open. She began to shutter as a male figure slowly stepped in. Like predator and prey. She as frozen in fear. "I-itachi?" She mumbled out. Fear laced him her tone. He raised his kunai in his hand. Lungs that once heaved heavy in her chest came to the halt. She watch as the object came straight for her.
Black.
Squeezing her eyes shut awaiting her inevitable demise she was met with silence. Shaking. Quivering she slightly opened her eyes. She felt the cold metal of the weapon grazing her throat but. It was like it was stuck from its motion. Just at her neck it stood. Time. Time had stopped. In disbelief she moved away from the weapon. Gazing at the wide eye figure of itachi. He couldn't move his body, but his eyes followed her as she hesitantly made her way out of the bathroom.
The scene frozen in time in her kitchen. Her mother played across the floor. Neck sliced as her lifeless body felt cold to the touch. Tracing her fingers around her lifeless skin she untied the ribbon that her mother once wore. Tying the blood stained neck lace round her neck a drop of her bloodied tears fell upon her dead mother. Slowly getting up she looked up.
Her father. His katana pierced through his head. Pining his hanging body to the ceiling. the blood that pooled beneath his body. It displayed a reflection. Her reflection. The reflection of her bright red eyes. Staring right back at her. The uchiha symbol was the one charm that dangled from her neck. Her mother's ribbon. Then she ran. She far through the uchiha compound. Looking as the state the once lively streets she sobbed and kept running.
And ran
And ran.
And ran.
Until the sun came up. The unfamiliar area she was in was far away from the leaf village. A strong hand stopped her movement. Blood stained face. Body shaking to the touch as the two women looks down at her. "Hun. are you alright? Where are your parents?" She questioned eyes furrowing as she was met with now answer. Sighing she spoke up. "I'm tsunade. A-and this is shizune. What's ur name sweet girl
"M-my name is. Y/n"
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eternalera · 2 days ago
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in the name of science!!
viktor and jinx are friends and are completing a science project together... although it turns into a gossip session (courtesy of jinx)
1k+ words
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"So... are we gonna talk about it?" Jinx leans back in her swivel chair, almost threatening to tip it over and for a second Viktor considers tipping it over himself because of course Jinx mentions it. She never did have any clue what 'personal space' was, or maybe she did and just preferred bothering him. Honestly it could really go either way for her, and for him. The pestering was rather mutual.
He sets down his wrench and pushes the metal object that was previously in his hands aside. They were trying to make an energy generation machine, something that involved the physics of perpetual motion to create energy more easily, but apparently that is going to have to wait.
"Talk about what?" Viktor tilts his head as he turns it to look at her, mocking confusion. Maybe she doesn't even remember, well he could hope at least.
Jinx scoffs, blowing a tuft of blue hair out from her face. "The whole 'Viktor, you're my best friend!' 'Oh, how I couldn't do this without you!' 'I love you so dearly' 'Nothing in the entire world can ever compare to your genius!' " she mocked in a (rather bad) Jayce impression.
"That wasn't a very good impression," Viktor points out. If she's gonna be like this then might as well return the favor
"Pfft- alright-"
"You just vaguely lowered your voice,"
"Alright-"
"I think Vi does it better,"
Jinx got up from her chair and pushed Viktor almost out of his but he caught himself (on his bad leg, whether or not that was on purpose though is a mystery to him).
"Alright, that's enough. We're talking about Jayce here, not my impression of him-"
"Of course not, I could hardly even tell that it was him in the first place-"
"I'm going to push you out of your chair Vik,"
Viktor smiles at her innocently and looks back to their device, touching it as if he were examining it but not actually doing so. He knew what she was talking about. Jinx was convinced he and Jayce had something... a little more friendly going on, to put it into words. Something that he knew not to be true, and something he didn't like entertaining because he knew it not to be so.
"There's nothing to talk about,"
"Really? You could just stand in a dark corner and he'd find a way to praise you for it," Jinx crosses her arms, looking down on him. Viktor opens his mouth to respond before shutting it, he knows that it's the truth because he's practically done it before, giving a speech and then afterwards telling Viktor how helpful it was to have him there as support.
He did nothing the entire time, just watched.
"See! You're not even arguing!"
"Jinx this is due tomorrow we have to get this done-"
"Eh, I'll finish it later," she shrugs it off without a second thought -- typical -- and instead sits on the floor looking up at him smugly. "Anyways let's focus on the main point," she emphasizes.
"There is nothing between us-"
"And my name's Powder," Jinx hisses in retaliation.
Viktor looks at her and narrows his eyes. He might regret what he's going to say next but fuck it. It's nothing that she's not used to by this point.
"Technically it is-" he barely finishes his words before he's tugged down to the floor aggressively with no concern about his leg at all and jinx pointing one of her brightly colored nails in his face.
"Watch it legs,"
Viktor scoffs at the remark. Nothing they haven't said to each other before. She lets him go and he adjusts his seating to something more comfortable.
"You owe me now. Spill, do you find Mr. Golden Boy attractive, and if so why the hell are your standards so low?" It sounds more like a statement than anything. "Because he's attracted to you and at this point I'm gonna start making bets about when the two of you are gonna end up together-"
"That's never going to happen," Viktor says, a little too quickly, but he sees Jinx's confused face and decides that he should give her an answer. "I'm pretty sure that he likes Mel,"
"Mel!?" Jinx half shouts, there's a look in her eyes that makes Viktor regret everything. He just hopes that Mel can survive the constant teasing from Jinx, then again, she is strong. "The one in the debate club? The one on the student council?" She scoffs and this time flicks her hair out of her face. "She is way out of his league,"
Viktor looks at her in disbelief before-- wait.
"Did you just imply that I’m easy?” Viktor stares at her before Jinx shakes her head.
“I just asked you why your standards were so low earlier idiot,” She leans on her hands, placing them behind her back. “I- quit changing the subject!” She hissed leaning forward and slamming her hands down on the floor dramatically.
Viktor sighs and looks away trying to find an excuse when one came to him (and rather conveniently), his phone rang. He picked it up seeing Jayce’s contact, something that Jinx sensed and instantly began trying to grab the phone afterwards. Luckily though he picked up before she could hang up and continue their little session or whatever that was.
“Viktor! I’m so glad that you picked up! I was wondering if you could meet up right now possibly, I have this really cool new idea and I kinda need your help with it,” Jayce spits out rather quickly.
Viktor looks over to Jinx who’s looking over to their project (which she stopped doing) as if it was a reason to get him to stay with her. It’s safe to say that he wasn’t convinced.
“Yeah, I’ll be right over,”
“Yes! Thank you Viktor,”
“Of course, just send me the address,” Viktor hangs up, getting a rather annoyed look from Jinx. “What? He needs my help.” Viktor shrugs as if he wasn’t looking for an excuse to avoid their earlier conversation.
“Uh uh, whatever, I’m finishing it I guess?” she asks, pointing over to it. Viktor nods rushing out the door.
“Thanks!” He calls out.
“No problem, just tell me if anything spicy happens-”
“Nevermind,”
He hears her laughter on the way out the door.
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