#But he doesn't fight back because she's a dickhead and needs to be called out

[sammydem0n64]

I love making ocs have beef for the most silly of reasons. Rn I’m hyperfocused on Peppark and Bista bc BROOOOOOOOO how are you two basically fighting over the same guy AND HE DOESN’T WANT EITHER OF YOU???? WHAT IS THE POINT!!!

[washeduphazbin]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

[brainddeadd]

Operation: get them together already

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

Jack Hughes x fem!reader (platonic)

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluff, reader has anxiety, reader grew up with the Hughes brothers, reader has curly hair cause this is a self indulgent fic, Jack refers to reader as 'Bub', dramatic Nico, surprisingly useful Jack, protective Quinn, dramatic reader, surprisingly useful Quinn, Quinn refers to reader as 'Squirt', shitty ex mentioned, Hughes bros call shitty ex 'dickhead', use of Y/n and Y/n/n

Schatz: treasure/sweetheart

Nico tells his sister about you almost immediately.

They have a call about a week after you and Nico meet, and Nico tells her about you in that call. She's shocked because he never tells her about the girls he's seeing, but she doesn't mention it. She let's Nico tell her all about the pretty girl he met, the one with wild curls and pretty smile.

The next time they talk, two weeks later, Nico doesn't mention you. She doesn't ask, she knows better than to pry, but she's disappointed.

It's not until she three months later, when she sees Nico in person that she risks it.

"Whatever happened to that girl you were talking about?" She has to fight to keep her voice casual and nonchalant. A blush grows on Nico's face, flowing over his neck and tinging his ears a deep pink and she has to bite her lip to keep from teasing him about being in love.

"She's good, we're.." Nico lets out a long suffering sigh. "We're friends."

Nina can't help the giggle that bursts from her body at how agonised he sounds by that, the disgust tinging his voice as he says the word, like it's offended him.

"Friends is good," Nina shrugs, a hand coming to rest on her brother's shoulder. "It's a good starting place."

Nico shrugs, looking away and Nina knows that she needs to change the subject before he shuts her our completely.

"Ok!" Her hands slap against her thighs, shoving herself to a standing position. "You promised me sushi."

~~

Nina meets you a week before she's due to fly back to Switzerland.

She goes to a game and you're there, sporting a #13 jersey and a wide grin.

"I'm Nina, Nico's sister," she offers you her hand, but you knock it to the side, pulling the woman into a hug.

"It's so nice to meet you!" You're buzzing with energy, barely able to keep up with conversations, too busy focusing on the game below.

"Y/N's like this at every game," Laura, Jack's girlfriend informs Nina, a fond smile on her face. "Has been since we teenagers."

"You grew up together?"

"Yeah," Laura nods, "Since we were twelve. She always gets lost in the game."

"Oh, I thought she was here with Nico."

"She's with me, and used to wear standard merch, no numbers, cause the Hughes boys would start a fight over which number we wore, but now she wears a number 13 jersey. "

Nico chooses that moment to score, and you're the loudest in the room. Nina joins you.

~~

"I'm so sorry," you're voice startles Nina, dragging her attention from her phone. You're standing next to her, head bent slightly.

"For what?" Nina tilts her head.

"I was rude in the box," you start to say, but she shakes her head.

"Please don't apologise to me for loving hockey and my brother- SUPPorting my brother." Nina shakes her head. "I haven't had that much fun at a game in a while."

Nico comes strolling over, cursing under his breath when he sees his sister standing with you.

"Nina, schatz," his voice breaks the two of you away from your conversation, but Nina doesn't miss the flash of confusion on your face when he uses that name for you.

"Good game, bro," Nina slaps him on the shoulder and you smile, nodding.

"Congratulations," Nina hasn't heard your voice that quiet all evening. "I, uh, better go.. to, yeah.. Congratulations! It was nice meeting you Nina!"

The siblings watch you scramble away, and Nina takes note of how Nico sighs in defeat next to her.

~~

"Neeks, I'm telling you, she's into you," Jack groans, throwing his head back as Nina enters the room. "Morning Nina."

"Morning Jack," she smiles tiredly, her gaze shifting to Nico, who's perched on the edge of the couch, head in his hands.

"She hates my guts Jack." Nico mutters. "She can't get away from me fast enough!"

"She's shy!" Jack cries out, hands falling over his face, exasperated. "She's always been shy! And then her ex fucked shit up, so now she doesn't handle feeling feelings well."

"Neeks, I agree with Jack," Nina offers her opinion and Nico groans, throwing his body back on the couch, before letting himself slide dramatically to the floor.

"I must have done something to upset her or scare her or something-"

"You didn't do shit, cap," Jack's voice is strained, like he's holding in a laugh. "That was all dickhead."

Nina notices the way Jack's shoulders tense as he talks about your ex, the protective edge that bleeds into his voice and wonders what damage the Hughes brothers must have inflicted on the boy when everything went down.

"I just.." Nico sighs, again, and Nina fights to hold back her eye roll, taking in the disheveled appearance of her brother clearly. "I don't know what to do."

"Talk to her," Jack says and Nico shoots him a glare. "No no, I mean it. Bub hates miscommunication and she'd be so mad at herself if she knew that you were like this."

Jack slides onto the floor next to Nico.

"Bub has never been good at expressing her emotions and her ex made her feel like shit when she did, you know this Neeks," Jack's shoulders tense again and he rolls his head to the side, cracking his neck. "She's terrified, but not of you."

~~

".. And then I fucken ran away! Like a coward! Again!" You wail towards the phone, missing the way Quinn rolls his eyes at you.

"It can't have been that bad," he mutters, a hand running through his hair as you finally settle onto your couch.

"It was," Lauren's voice chimes, her head poking around the front of the phone to shoot Quinn a smile as she continues to the kitchen for coffee, having already heard your rant.

"Ok," Quinn winces, "even if it was, whichitprobablywasn't, Nico's a chill guy."

Grabbing a pillow, you flop back dramatically on the couch, your legs flailing wildly as you scream into the pillow. Quinn screenshots the scene, pulling his phone too close to his face as he shoots the images off to the "operation: get them together already" groupchat, with the caption:

"was it this actually this bad?"

"worse" is the response Jack sends, accompanied by his own photo of Nico sprawled out on the floor of his apartment, arms thrown over his head and a dejected look on his face.

Quinn grunts, placing his phone back down just in time to see tears well up in your eyes.

"Hey hey hey Squirt, what's happening?" Panic bleeds into Quinn's voice and he curses the day he let you move in with his dumbass brothers instead of him. "Squirt, talk to me."

~~

Nina is added to the "operation: get them together already" groupchat that day, and Jack lets her scroll back through the messages on his phone, her eyes widening as she sees the chaos that has unfolded over the past few months.

Nina: what's the plan?

Luke: Lock them in a room together and don't let them out until they confess ??

Quinn: we are NOT locking my Squirt in a room with ANY man. Ever.

Jack: set them up on a blind date together ??

Quinn: she'd panic.

Laura: double date with Jack and I ?? then we just bail

Jack: im down

Quinn: jack you're not bailing on your captain

Quinn: and she'd be left wondering if she upset you

Laura: good point

Luke: fuck dickhead

Nina: I could invite her over to hang out, saying I got her number for Laura or Jack.

Nina: I do genuinely want to be friends with her and get to know her

Nina: then I could just.. simply be running late from an errand.. and her and Nico can have time alone

Quinn: that works.

Nina: out of curiosity.. what's the name, address and number of this dickhead.. i just wanna talk

~~

Nina sends you a message the following day, once she's had time to gather her nerve, reminding herself that Nico will forgive her.. one day.

Nina: Hey Y/N! It's Nina Hischier. I'm sorry if this is weird, but I got your number from Jack and Laura, I hope that's ok! I had a great time with you at the game and I was just wondering if you'd want to hang out before I go back to Switzerland? It's all good if not!

Y/n: Hi Nina! Not weird at all! I had fun with you too! I'd love to see you before you leave. When works for you?

Nina asks if you could meet at Nico's before going out, claiming that she didn't know the city well and didn't want to risk getting lost. You agreed, hesitantly, asking if Nico was ok with you being there, to which she assured you he was.

~~

5pm on Friday evening, a rare Friday off for the team, you're knocking on Nico's door. He swings the door open, hair flopping in his face and a confused look on his face, which only deepens when he sees you.

"Y/n?" His voice is deep and it's clear from the gravelly tone that he'd been asleep.

"Sorry!" You squeak. "Nina asked me to hang out but asked me to meet her here, because she doesn't know the city that well."

Nico frowns at that, knowing that Nina knows her way around the city well, after him living here for so long.

"Come in," he ushers you into his apartment, and you pull out your phone to text Nina, only to see one from her.

Nina: I am so sorry! I am running a few minutes late from an errand I was doing! I will be there soon!

"Ah.. she's running late.. an errand.." you inform Nico, your eyes locking onto the floor. "I'll.. go wait in.. in the car."

"Stay," Nico rushes out, hand waving through the air. "It's cold and.. and.. uhh, just.. just stay, please."

You blink for a moment, eye's searching his face for any hint of a joke, before you nod slowly. His shoulders relax, a soft smile taking over his face.

"Uh... would you like.. anything?" Nico asks, his hand coming up to the back of his neck bashfully.

"No, I'm ok, thank you," you smile at him, hands shaking at the proximity. Nico nods, and gestures to the couch a moment later.

"Sit.. please, uhh, she might be a moment.." Nico sighs in relief when you agree, moving carefully though his apartment, as if you were scared to disturb the air with your presence. "I uhh, tv?"

Nico winces at himself, feeling his ears begin to burn.

"Sure, Nico," your voice is soft, but he can hear that the shaky hint that normally takes over your voice has died down slightly. "Whatever you want."

He nods stiffly, turning to the tv, before hesitating with his hand half-way to the remote.

"Can- can I ask you a question?" He shocks himself when he says it, but he can't take it back.

"Sure," you look at him, head tilted to the side slightly, a curl falling across your cheek, one that he desperately wants to tuck behind your ear and feel under his fingertips, and he really can't be blamed for the words that follow.

"Do you hate me?" Alarmed, you stand, turning to him, eyes wide and hair flying around you. Nico follows your movements, standing in front of you.

"What?!" You're panicked, he can tell and he curses himself.

"No! That came out wrong! I just-" Nico sighs, his head falling forwards and his shoulders curve in on themselves slightly. "Every time I'm around, you run away and I just.. if I did something, let me know so I can fix it... please, Schatz."

Your hands shake, which Nico can see from his hunched over position, his fingers itching to take yours in his and hold you close.

"I don't hate you Nico," you assure him. "I could never."

He stands up straighter at that, confusion bleeding into his expression.

"Then.. why?" You can feel your face heating up at the question, and he can feel the realisation dawning on him. "Do you.. are we.. was Jack right?"

Frowning you raise an eyebrow, to which Nico shakes his head.

"I like you romantically, Schatz," Nico's voice turns soft, and his accent is a bit thicker. "I want to take you on a date. If you'll let me."

"I-" you can't stop the grin that stretches across your face. "I would love that."

~~

Nico tells Nina about his proposal plan first.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ฿Ⱡ₳₦₭ ₴₱₳₵Ɇ | ₮₩Ø | ♡

♡ Pairings: fratboy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader (appearances by other members)

♡ Genre: college au/angst

♡ Summary: It's been weeks since your last arguement with Jaehyun and you've refused to speak to him since. He doesn't know who or what has your attention but the fact that it isn't him is eating him alive. It makes no difference to you, who's confident in your choice to be with Johnny but when you show up to the frat house unexpected, accidentally revealing your little love affair, you bring out a side of Jaehyun you've never seen before. One that might make leaving him in the past a bit harder than you anticipated.

[Part One Here 🖤]

♡ Word Count: 2.5k-ish

♡ Warnings: none really except that this part is Jaehyun focused so Johnny's only around for a second (the next one will be more Johnny focused). It's heavy on the angst. Most of the fratboys are dickheads to women really. There's also mentions of drinking/casual sex and strong language.

♡ A/N: At last I've written part two. It took me a bit because my health has been kicking my ass but I was determined to add to this lil fic of mine so I hope you beautiful humans enjoy this chapter.

P.S My usual thank you to @anyamaris for reading this before I posted it. I'm in terrible need of a second brain lately and I appreciate you for so happily stepping up to be it 🖤

You fight. You cry. You get back together again. Fight. Cry. Get back together again. That’s the way things have always been between you and Jaehyun. He knows it isn’t healthy but, in his own twisted way, it’s the only way he can trust that you care about him. There’s no justification for it, nothing you did to him in the past that warrants such cruel and unusual punishment. 

Jaehyun’s addicted to the rush of getting back together. The desperate, passionate moment when your bodies collide after a week or so apart. Both of you too filled with need to care about what tore you apart in the first place. He can only get that with you, he only wants it with you.

But this time he took it too far, did a bit too much in his attempt to make you jealous, and now you won’t even speak to him. When he knocks on your door your roommate lies and says you aren’t there, refusing to open it more than a crack to shoot him down. Every call goes to voicemail, every text message left undelivered, and on the rare occasions that you run into each other you treat him like a ghost. 

Seated on the sectional couch at the heart of his living room, Jaehyun stares into the void of faceless partiers swarming the frat house. The beer cradled between his fingers has the top popped off but has barely been touched. The chattering of his frat brothers scattered across the couch might as well be miles away. 

A girl in a black mini skirt sneaks up behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You look sad, baby. Need me to cheer you up?” She licks her lips, planting soft, wet kisses down his neck the way she did a few nights ago when he was in need of some rebound sex that more than failed to satisfy him. 

Jaehyun pats her on the arm, shrugging her off, “Thanks but, uh, no thanks.” 

“Wait. What?” she frowns, arms folded across her chest, “You’re joking right?” 

Scooting closer to Jaehyun, his frat brother Taeyong places a sympathetic hand on hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t think he wants to play with you anymore." At the other end of the couch their brother Yuta raises his beer, winking at the girl, “But I will. I volunteer!” 

“Fuck you, Jaehyun and your asshole friends!” the girl huffs, storming off into the crowd. 

“Wait! Are you sure?” Yuta calls out after her, “Don’t you know what they say about Japanese guys with long hair?”

“Did she say fuck her in the asshole?” Doyoung, the most innocent of the frat brothers asks, his ears turning red from one too many shots. 

“Who’s getting fucked in the asshole?” Mark asks, flopping down beside Yuta on the couch. He’s younger than the other guys, probably shouldn’t be here, but they all have a soft spot for him, especially Yuta, so he gets to stick around. 

Yuta pouts, laying his head on Mark’s shoulder, “No one, sadly.” 

“Can you guys not be pigs for two seconds? Grow up” Jaehyun snaps, chugging down his beer so fast it makes him dizzy. 

“Ooh, someone’s cranky tonight” Taeyong teases, “What’s got you so uptight? You’re usually the worst of us.” 

Doyoung pours himself another shot, taking a quick, adorable sip of it. “She blocked him. On everything. Won’t even talk to him. So sad.” Jaehyun’s tempted to throw the empty bottle at Doyoung’s head and, unlike when you threw your shoe at him, there’s no way he could miss the shot. But Mark swoops in, wedging himself between Jaehyun and Taeyong to provide some comfort. “Aww, man, your girl broke your heart? I’m sorry. Hugs?” 

As Mark embraces Jaehyun, Yuta rolls his eyes at the display. “His girl?” Yuta laughs, “Hardly. He fucked her. By that standard mini skirt was his girl too.” 

“Oh and her!” Taeyong adds, pointing to the curly haired girl in the corner.

The others pile on, making a game out of spotting girls Jaehyun’s slept with. Jaehyun snatches free of Mark’s hug, refusing to sit through anymore of this. He’s ready to storm off himself but doubles back to clarify something. “She isn’t my girl but she’s not like them, alright? So respect her or I’ll hit you so hard every meal you have until next semester will need to be through a straw.” 

Taeyong throws his hands up, leading the others in easing up on Jaehyun, “No problem, bro. We were just fucking with you. We’l respect her.” 

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearing your throat. The sound of your voice makes Jaehyun’s heart skip a beat and when he turns around to find that pretty face staring back at him, his heart all but stops. 

“N…no, we were just, wh…what are you doing here?” he stutters, a glimmer of emotion showing through for the first time in a long time. “I thought you hated me.”

You knew this day would come. It’s going on 3 weeks of evading any form of interaction with him but you knew that one day your luck would run out. You’d have to experience this moment. This conversation. The feelings you had for Jaehyun haven’t subsided easily. It stung to accept that he could never feel for you the way you wished he did but it was easier to let go when you had someone soft and loving to land on. 

Johnny hasn’t been your rebound, he’s been the furthest thing from it. You adore being with him. He does all the things you ever wanted a guy to do. He’s silly in ways you don’t always get but that’s just a part of his charm. He’s thoughtful and patient, never making you question if he has eyes for any girl other than you. You don’t hate Jaehyun. You don’t even have the time to when Johnny exists. 

“Hate you? No but have you…” you begin to whisper, burning under the spotlight of his frat brothers’ gaze, “Have you talked to Johnny?” 

Jaehyun’s a statue, rendered immobile by his confusion, “Talked to Johnny about what?”

“Baby!” Johnny cheers, popping out of the crowd to sweep you up into his arms, “What are you doing here? I told you I’d come get you.” 

“I know but my roommate was headed over here so I thought I’d save you a trip.” You try to clue him in that something’s happening but he’s showering you in so many kisses that you ultimately give into it, giggling like the happiest girl in the world. 

“Johnny, people are watching” you finally manage as your feet meet the ground again, Johnny’s arms secure around your waist. 

“Baby, I don’t care about people…” Johnny stops himself short, noticing precisely which people you happen to be referring to. 

The sadness on Jaehyun’s face tells you that he and Johnny haven’t talked about this. Not once. You catch yourself feeling bad for him, knowing the pain he feels oh too well. It’s the same pain that he dished out to you without remorse or reason and the thought of that turns your empathy into satisfaction. Revenge, bittersweet but successfully acquired all the same. 

“Jae, I’m sorry, really” Johnny apologizes, approaching Jaehyun to make peace but peace isn’t of interest and apologies aren’t enough. 

Jaehyun barrels past Johnny, nearly knocking him down in the process, “Fuck it, you can keep her. Have fun.” 

“Wait! I’m really…” Johnny calls after him, torn between chasing down his friend and staying here with you. 

Patting him on the shoulder, you give him a little peck on the lips, encouraging him to go ahead. “Johnny, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Are you sure?” If you ask him to stay he will, no questions asked, no second guessing. If chasing after Jaehyun means hurting you he’d never do it in a million years. 

You crack a gentle, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. Now get out of here.” You playfully push him on his way and he kisses you on the back of the hand before letting go, rushing off into the direction Jaehyun was headed in. 

Jaehyun deserves a bit of pain for all he’s done to you but in both of their absences it sets in that maybe he isn’t the only one being hurt in all of this. Imagining how hurt Johnny would be at losing a friend, you feel the sudden weight of guilt the likes of none you’ve ever had to bear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not here in front of everyone.

“Aaah, a good old fashioned love triangle. The tragedy! The heartbreak!” Mark says, head thrown back dramatically.

Taeyong throws a pillow at Mark, shushing the younger man. Mark catches it, cuddling it in his arms like a stuffed animal. “What? I like love stories. I wonder, how’s it gonna end?”

Yuta grins at you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, “Yeah, cutie, you’re the one they're gonna kill each other over. You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Wiping your increasingly sweaty palms on your dress, you feel the spotlight on you growing brighter and you can’t stomach it. You take off out into the night, navigating the minefield of passed out partiers to get across the front lawn. Yuta’s words echo in your mind, “You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Like you have all the power. Like you’re the only one responsible for any of this. How’s it gonna end? You have no clue but you wish that the ending, however bad or good, would come already. 

You should be at a movie theater right now cuddled up beside Johnny eating overpriced snacks. Instead you’re standing in the frozen section of a fluorescent lit gas station contemplating which freezer burnt pint of ice cream you’ll drown your sorrows in tonight.

Somewhere in your purse your phone is on silent, no doubt blowing up with texts and calls from both of the men you find yourself tangled up with. The adult thing to do would be to go back to the party and face this problem straight on. Or you could demolish the snacks piled into your arms and pretend this never happened. 

“The second one, for sure” you decide, fumbling with the freezer door handle to retrieve your ice cream of choice. 

“Is there another party going on that I don’t know about?” Jaehyun asks, watching you from the end of the aisle. You groan, abandoning your ice cream mission to get as far away from him as possible. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, “I’m not stalking you. I promise. I just needed some air and I…anyway, let me help you.”

Jaehyun skips over to ice cream, popping the freezer door open. He pokes out his lip, eyebrows furrowed in as he scans the options. “There we go” he grins, plucking your favorite ice cream from the shelf on the first try. You’ve never explicitly told him which one it was and you try not to be impressed by the fact that he cared to take note of it but deep down inside you are.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it” he insists, leading the way to the register. It takes him a few steps to realize that you haven’t followed and he spins around on his heels to find you staring at him in disgust. 

“What I meant to say was, may I pay for your things, my queen?” A group of passing girls giggle as he bows to you with all the elegance of a man who’s in the presence of royalty. 

“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing me” you whine and he responds with a twirl that brings him closer to you, the already defrosting ice cream jumping from hand to hand. 

“Aah but I just want the queen to be happy and I do hear this is her favorite.”

“Oh, I’m a queen now? And what does that make you? My royal jester?” 

Jaehyun stares into your eyes, his expression turning serious, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

“It’s a little too late to be what I wanted you to be, isn’t it?” you ask, your voice shaking more than you’d like it to. 

“I don’t know, is it?”

He asks you the question like his whole life depends on your answer. He’s always been the one who had the upper hand, standing over you, his whimpering prey, with a knife to your throat that could end you at any time. It’s strange to be on the other end of it now but, unlike him, you’re prone to taking mercy on poor, wounded little animals. While you may not have it in you to strike the killing blow, you’re content to let him lie here and bleed out. 

“You know what? Suddenly I've lost my appetite” you say, emptying your snacks into his arms, “I’m sure there’s enough girls in your phone to share that with.”

This isn’t some melodramatic exit where you walk away expecting him to follow you. Running into him in the first place wasn’t the plan. Yet you’re barely out of the gas station parking lot when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand on end and you just know he’s trailing behind you.

“Will you at least let me take you home? You shouldn’t be walking alone. There could be psychopaths out here!”

You pick up speed repeating to yourself, “Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t—”

“I love you!” Jaehyun shouts for the entire block to hear. It’s his voice but those can’t be his words. Fueled by rage, you ignore your own advice and turn to confront him. 

“Take it back!” you demand, refusing to accept his profession. Of all the things he’s ever done to manipulate you this has to be the lowest he’s gone. 

“No, if I mean it then why should I?” 

“Because you’re lying! You’re a liar! It’s what you do. It’s what you always do!” you scream, the anger you’ve held in for months overflowing. 

“Okay, I am a liar. A liar and a piece of shit who couldn’t commit to you cause I was too afraid of getting hurt so I hurt you first” he admits, “And that’s not for you to fix. Maybe I need fucking therapy, I don’t know, but I do love you.”

“That’s not enough!”

Jaehyun sees you motion to leave again and grabs your wrists, locking them at your sides. “Then tell me what’s enough and I’ll do it. It can’t be too late for us. I’m falling apart without you.”

Tears run hot down your cheeks and he cups your face, kissing them away. It feels nicer than you want it to, more calming than repulsive. You were out, done with him forever, and look at you now, standing under the streetlights melting into the palms of his hands.

But this time is different from the others and far more dangerous because for once the liar isn’t lying. He loves you and it means it. Why the fuck does he have to mean it?

[mirrorball-leclerc]

big reputations - part six

series masterlist // previous // next

sabrinacarpenter posted new stories

pre-qatar dinner and this dude looks way too fucking happy. is there an off switch or something? cars go vroom! little brother won a race or something? it's like a big deal 3x world champion or whatever jokes aside i'm literally crying?? who knew i would be crying over some silly little men in silly little cars??

alex albon ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED YESTERDAY??

max verstappen i kissed daniel, so what?? george russell THAT'S NOT WHAT WE SAW BITCH!!

oscar piastri clearly you were all drunk. i saw max kiss daniel and charles. charles said it was glorious.

charles leclerc it was, i went to my hotel room and i questioned everything. pierre gasly FUCKER YOU KNOW WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT

daniel ricciardo is it suddenly not okay for me to kiss max??

yuki tsunoda HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US RICCIARDO!! THIS IS SO FUCKED! THIS IS FUCKING BETRAYAL YOU FUCKING FUCK! YOU DICKHEAD!

esteban ocon is this why max knocked liam out the other day??

max verstappen i didn't knock him out, i simply helped him rest his eyes for a bit. he seemed tired.

alex albon I KNOW WHAT I FUCKING SAW YESTERDAY!!

oscar piastri i think you guys are cra

oscar piastri so these are the famous f1 drivers oscah and sharl cannot shut up about. nice to meet y'all!

logan sargeant oscar? you okay buddy?

max verstappen sabrina, dear god, give oscar his phone back.

oscar piastri KISS MY ASS VERSTAPPEN. I WILL DECK YOU max verstappen when you can reach me, sure. oscar piastri SOMEONE GRAB ME A FUCKING FORK!! max verstappen yup, still can't stand you. oscar piastri OH FUCK YOU SID!

oscar piastri i apologize for her, she isn't house trained.

charles leclercDID YOU JUST CALL ME A BITCH PIASTRI?? YOU'RE FUCKING NEXT!!

charles leclerc added one person

sabrina carpenter now, did you guys seen pierre kiss yuki?

pierre gasly what?

charles leclerc i swear i saw k-mag and and nico kiss

sabrina carpenter oh, you guys are allowed to say nico? i thought that was off limits because of lewis. #ripbrocedes

daniel ricciardo lewis isn't here.

carlos sainz jesus do you people have to talk so fucking much??

sabrina carpenter HEY, I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU MR. SAINZ!

carlos sainz who is that? why are they yelling at me?

sabrina carpenter JUST BECAUSE I WASN'T AROUND FOR SPA DOESN'T MEAN I WILL NOT DEFEND MY LITTLE BROTHER OSCAR!

oscar piastri let it go sabrina

sabrina carpenter I'LL LET IT GO WHEN DANIEL LET'S THE CHARLES THING GO!!

carlos sainz what's the charles thing?

max verstappen nothing daniel ricciardo nothing charles leclerc nothing oscar piastri nothing sabrina carpenter nothing

yuki tsunoda STOP CHANGING THE FUCKING SUBJECT! DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO ARE YOU OR ARE YOU FUCKING NOT DATING DAPHNE FUCKING JONES??

daniel ricciardo i plead the fifth

george russell that's a yes to me

alex albon THEY WERE FUCKING MAKING OUT AT THE BAR!! OF COURSE THEY'RE DATING!!

sabrina carpenter no, that was daniel and max. i don't know what you people saw. clearly the tension from when they were teammates got to be too much and now they're acting on their feelings. i really thought it was going to be a lestappen endgame.

oscar piastri okay, you need to get off of f1 twitter seriously.

sabrina carpenter well how else am i supposed to learn f1 lore? and it's not just twitter, tiktok has been very helpful.

george russell just how much time is she spending on f1 twitter and tiktok?

sabrina carpenter "i'm here to fight, i'm here to win, i'm not just going to wave him bye because he's max verstappen in a red bull."

sabrina carpenter "what am i now? i'm heavily depressed." sabrina carpenter "suck my balls mate." sabrina carpenter "nothing just an inchident."

oscar piastri yeah, she's gonna be doing that for a while

sabrina carpenter "bwoah!" sabrina carpenter "james, it's valtteri, fuck you." sabrina carpenter "ALL THE TIME YOU HAVE TO LEAVE A SPACE!"

sabrina carpenter okay, i'm done now. i think oscar was right when he said i needed to step away from f1 twitter and tiktok

oscar piastri you think? i have been receiving an f1 quote from you at least 8 times a day.

logan sargeant free my man oscar, he shouldn't be suffering this way

sabrina carpenter logan sargeant you're next on my list

max verstappen CONGRATS YOU IDIOTS, YOU FUCKED UP!

daphne jones you know, i can see that now, but it's so hilarious knowing the other drivers are losing their mind.

daniel ricciardo the only reason we haven't told them is because you have some stupid plan to get daphne to sing about it at a show.

max verstappen MY PLAN IS A GOOD ONE! TAKE THAT BACK BITCHIARRDO!

oscar piastri what actually is the plan??

sabrina carpenter you know that line in karma, where it's like, "karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me?"

oscar piastri yeah?

charles leclerc max wants daphne to change the lyrics to something like "karma is the guy on the track coming straight home to me?"

max verstappen why is that better than what i had?

sabrina carpenter his was "karma is the guy in the alpha tauri coming straight home to me."

oscar piastri DO BOTH!

max verstappen she can't because someone took daniel out of the season

oscar piastri I APOLOGIZED WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME??

daniel ricciardo MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN IT WASN'T HIS FAULT! LEAVE HIM ALONE

charles leclerc wow we really are like a family.

sabrina carpenter max has been promoted to brother-in-law because the entire internet seems convinced that he's fucking charles

daphne jones do you have no filter?

sabrina carpenter i wrote a song called nonsense that's a euphemism for sex. what do you think?

oscar piastri i'm talkin' all around clock. i'm talkin' hope nobody knocks. i'm talkin' opposite of soft. i'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts. you gotta keep up with me. i got some young energy. i caught the L-O-V-E. how do you do this to me?

max verstappen you just know the lyrics to the song?

oscar piastri i googled them.

sabrina carpenter FAKE FAN!!

oscar piastri i never said i was a fan. i just tolerate you.

charles leclerc i can't stand either of you

daniel ricciardo peak older sibling behavior

taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call @smol-scream @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! yeah, i don't know what this became towards the end. i saw one tiktok and i spiraled towards the end, i'm also a bit sleep deprived. i apologize in advance for this. you can't convince me sabrina carpenter isn't a menace to society, i bet she is.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!

[interdimensionalburnout]

((Quick OOC post, and hopefully the last one I need to say about this recent drama in my personal life for a while. In the aftermath of this stupid fucking adventure, we still have to find a place to live long-term and get unpacked.

((Once I'm good and used to working 7AM to 3:30PM again, and this emotional bullshit's smoothed over, I can get back to having fun hobbies and put some more time into RP again!

((SO! What's happening to Mick! Bullet-points edition, as little word-salad as possible (I'm a prosy kinda fruitcake):

In April we found out mom had been "robbing Peter to pay Paul," and in doing so had racked-up a 16,000 dollah electric bill.

That happened at the same time the landlady wanted to send an appraiser to the house to assess value and damage, because she and her siblings want to sell it so they can pay to put their mother in a retirement home (I have strong opinions on that).

They never communicated with us, never even offered to transfer all the money we'd already paid in rent towards, you know, buying it ourselves.

They actually were kinda dickheads about it, but it's also fine because that house is a money-pit and they deserve each-other.

Mom bullshits the electric company, the landlady doesn't immediately kick us out, but we keep slowly packing anyway.

Eviction Notice in June, extended until the 28th of August.

Things keep getting heated, blame keeps getting thrown around.

The tension keeps rising to a boil. Lots of things get left behind in the move, personal items, valuable items. My plants had to be packed into a blue-box, likely dead by now.

Dad's work puts us up in Air B&B's until we can get into a house he's trying to buy. Dad gets a loan and a realtor, and finds out that Florida is a "Spousal State," meaning he can't get a house without his wife signing for it. Their marriage is on the fritz and has been for fifteen years (at this state, this thing was fucked as soon as they said "I Do.") but he was willing to sign a contract for the next 30 years with her anyway.

Things keep getting heated and mom's grip on everyone keeps fraying further. Moving five animals and four humans (one of whom is borderline immobile and infirm) takes two trips to Gettysburg, and then two trips to Florida.

The tension rises again, mom calls dad's job to try and cow him. She'd tried that once before, fifteen years ago when they almost divorced before, and back then dad told her that, "if you ever do that again, I'm getting a divorce."

I get a job super fucking fast and already put in eightish hours

Dad and I have to take off yesterday in order for him to finally drive mom back north. She takes the smallest dog, leaving her other dog with me and dad and jay (sibling), because she can barely take care of the small baby let alone both babies.

Dad will be driving back down to florida soon,

And the rest of our lives will, I guess, start.

He also asked his realtor to help us find a rental that'll take two medium-sized dogs and two small cats.

TL;DR- Mom and dad have been fighting in a flawed marriage from the minute they put rings on, their kids have been caught in the middle and it derailed our adult lives, but the (failed) move provided the final straw that broke the camel's back, and now mom is gone and we have to get on with our lives,

and I'm too numb about it to really feel happy or sad.

[the-scrappy-stinger]

What the FUCK is "champon"?

Oh well, I'm about to learn.

Well that was fast! And holy shit, an actual woman in charge for once!

This'll be a treat! Maybe KitKat will be less of a dickhead to a lady proprietor aaaand she has a boyfriend by the end of the manga.

Okay, so Aki and Peter have called KitKat to save the restaurant. So don't worry! Help is on the-

Who the fuck is this?

This is uuuh... ... Reese's Cup. He's got skills!

But Peter's got a weird feeling that the dude isn't legit, not like this food he had at a place called Goro- go- (looks it up) Goryokaku-tei.

It's KitKat's old place. He's talking about Kitkat.

But anyway, Reese's Cup is all ready to open up the restaurant with a new recipe, a new facade, and a new name!

The name of Gor- (stops and looks) Gyokuryu, which is NOT Gokor- I'm bad at these names! (goes back) Goryokaku!!!

It's not like I can't pronounce any Japanese! These names just all stick together in my mouth!

So Reese takes Aki and Peter to get the approval and branding of a local Chinese food place, and the owner of the place asks to speak to Aki, and then when she starts talking-

Reese talks right over her. Well, at least he's on-brand for an off-brand KitKat. The established restaurant owner puts forth a challenge: if the first 20 people to order the champon finish every bit of it, they get his endorsement. So Reese kicks Aki and Peter out of the kitchen and cooks them all himself. 19 bowls in and everybody finishes it to the last drop. It's time for bowl 20-

Heeheeheee~ time for KitKat to KitKat

Maybe I'm glad he's not screaming at Aki? But this still feels like a copout. Like, other than Reese kind of subsuming her restaurant like an amoeba, people are eating it...

That's why. It's because Reese is stomping on KitKat's territory.

Peter's the one that narc'd on Reese. Good for him? Meanwhile

It... is though, you gotta do a good bit of mental math...

But like- okay, so Reese is named Yukichi and he worked at aaaAAAGH- (looks it up) Goryokaku-tei for like half a year before he quit. So KitKat is like "I'm gonna show you up with your leftovers!" and goes to cook

why does his shirt look like his chest hair- whatever! So he makes the food. Reese is so moved by his delicious food that he just kind of... fucks off, and Aki is like "Okay now YOU teach me to make champon!" and KitKat is like "The thing that made that chef bad is that he wanted attention!" and I'm like... man, you hate TV chefs the way that Oishinbo guy hates French food.

So let's get to the meat of it: why champon? Why this weird little veggie and fish sorta thing?

Because Aki got in a fight with her father, and if she doesn't make food so delicious that it makes him smile, he's gonna force her to marry a man she doesn't love. And she needs KitKat to teach her how to make food that's delicious to impress her father.

KitKat tells her she's an idiot.

And he fuckin' bails.

I'm gonna run out of pictures...

So Aki decides to make ramen instead... mostly because the fuckin' dragon outside her door makes everybody think her place is a ramen shop, and she suddenly goes "Oh right! It was actually ramen my dad loved!" and so she and Peter decide to make ramen instead, fuckin'...

And KitKat is like "legit, let's do that."

wait a second how long is this arc again? I'm getting flashbacks... I'm gonna run out of pictuuures!

So KitKat is like "Okay, ramen is a good business venture for amateur cooks because it doesn't take much expertise to master. What do you want to make?"

Aki says tonkatsu ramen. Peter says miso. They fight.

KitKat is like "okay you two need to get your act together or this is never gonna work." and makes them samples. They don't budge on not liking the other person's ramen, so KitKat is like "Okay. That's it. THE TRAINING" and takes them to THE TRAINING.

THE TRAINING is they're gonna work at the goddamn circus. The Japanese goddamn circus of course- are circuses a thing in Japan? I've only seen them in animes in, like, Gyo and fuckin' Yakitate Japan...

So KitKat makes them the circus's caterers for the next week and a half. They suck at it. KitKat's like "okay this is worse than I thought."

So KitKat gives them the food that the normal circus caterers cook and he's like "You know why these two make such good food? It's because they get along and they trust each other!" and Aki's like "Of course they do! They've been married for 20 years!" and KitKat's like "They're not married!"

"They're fuckin' KNIFE THROWERS!"

Or they were! They don't do the act anymore, but they were the knife-throwing act for like 15 years.

And now KitKat is gonna make them hurl knives at each other.

I'm gonna RUN OUT OF PICTURES

So Aki and Peter- okay only Peter practices the knife-throwing, Aki just goes in the kitchen and peels potatoes while the lady knife-thrower talks to her about the love between men and women, and eventually Aki and Peter are like "Peter!" "Aki!" and they kiss and because they have kissed, they can make delicious ramen.

And also KitKat doesn't actually make them do a knife-throwing act because that'd be, almost in his own words, a literal goddamn crime and fucking stupid.

Okay maybe I exaggerated a little but the thought's still there. So KitKat drives them back to their restaurant, explaining how this is only the first step to making their own rame-

Oh god DAMN IT!

So this is her father's doing.

Turns out he's actually a bigger dick than she let on.

So's KitKat.

But anyway their shop is destroyed, so to make a name for themselves, KitKat signs them up for the RAMEN COOKOFF!

Can we STOP with the racism- when was this manga published?!

1999?!?!

lord- okay... that's how many chapters this arc has been- how long is this now? (looks) this has been TWELVE CHAPTERS and we're still not done yet. Okay so Aki and Peter test a bunch of recipes and Aki comes to the conclusion to make ramen with a salt base- like the soup is basically just finely-balanced seafood stock and salt- topped with pickled onions the knife-thrower lady gave her. And KitKat calls it the dawn of a new ramen.

Salty onion water ramen.

I mean maybe it's good, I dunno. Just seems like overhype to me compared to tonkatsu and miso ramen.

But this arc is FINALLY OVER after... THIRTEEN ISSUES, along with a lead-in for the next issue.

and I did NOT

run out of pictures.

[dilcne]

It breaks her heart, because Lorna doesn't think he knows what it's like to be loved. At least not in the way she loves him. She would go to the ends of the earth for him, fight anyone who dared lay a finger on him, and do anything he asked.

He would call it stupidity, she'd call it love.

It didn't matter how he felt, or even what she expected from the love she felt for him. It wasn't about romance, feelings, or even sex. He was her person and she was his, even if he refused to admit it.

"Don't what? Tell you that I care? That I love you? That you're my best friend?" She blinked. "Which part, Aer? Come on, don't be shy. Speak the fuck up, or do you only do that when it's to make some asshole remark that nobody gives a flying fuck about?"

It was odd. Her anger came in waves, but the other side of her tried to overpower the rage she felt and replace it with the warmth that was in her nature. He made it difficult. And god, she wanted to scream at him again, but she couldn't... she was too upset and weepy to reach that level.

"I don't want to go, Aer. I want you - " She walked forward, stopping mere inches away from him, because he wasn't going to escape from this. "I want you to realize that you are so loved, and no matter how much we fight, that's not going away. I would do anything if it made you see that... and that, even though, you are biggest dickhead I have ever met, you deserve it." Her teeth gritted, because a part of her wanted so badly to storm out, but she didn't want to let him win and prove that he was right.

"And I know, you love me too. Somewhere down there." Her eyes flitted to his chest and back.

That, she didn't know. But she thought she'd take a wild shot in the dark.

"One day I might not be here, and you're going to miss me so bad when I'm gone." She shrugged once, before leaning her head sideways, staring up at him.

"You need to get over this thing of being scared of letting people in, or whatever it is that's stopping you from showing people you have a heart. I'll love you forever, but you treating me like shit... I can't do it. Just answer this... do you want to lose me? Because you're doing a real good fucking job."

@aeris-flores

Aeris’s heart pounds. He said nothing about his own actions being of equal effort, but okay. She's right. She does more in a week than he's done the entire seven years he's lived above her.

He still wants to challenge her on it, point out that technically she is 'the girl downstairs' just for the sake of being the prick she says he is. He doesn't, glaring at Lorna as insolently as he instead decides to roll his eyes up to the ceiling in a way that's purposefully dramatic as if what she says is so unrealistic.

He wants to ask why? Because he won’t, can’t care about Lorna back the way she wants? Lorna’s the one who’s selfish. She always needs so much time and attention and affirmation and blind faith, until Aeris feels like he doesn’t have any control left at all. Unfairly, too, by his standards, when they aren't anything that requires any of the above.

Aeris cares about her, of course. He'd argue it. But really, it honestly isn’t enough. He cares other things more, wants other things more, cares about himself the most. And maybe Aeris will regret this thing that he is doing, regret that he’s always had the ability to let go of things so easily.

He thinks he can so, anyway, but he doesn't at all find familiarity in the way his chest tightens when Lorna seemingly fizzles out and settles on 'missing him'.

“Don't do that, Lorn,” Aeris replies harshly. His eyes are slitted with annoyance to match his hard words. He even crosses his arms tight against his chest while turning to lean his back against the wall, turned partly from her. Acting disengaged, it doesn't do much for the way a lump forms in his throat.

She misses him, he's her best friend, she loves him in, well, any fucking capacity is a wild concept to him.

It cuts, and it burns, and Aeris can't find the courage to look her in the eye with the teeth of those words biting into his heart. Not right away, even as he says, far too meek for his own liking but he can't control the waver in his voice, "I never asked you to. To be my friend or want to be around me, nothing."

One sobering inhaleexhale, he can swallow down that lump and meet Lorna's eyes again.

Chaos broils somewhere between his spine and his sternum, but on the outside he is sanguine, apathetic, still. Aeris will not continue to give away how he feels right now; like a trainwreck, like trouble, like a ticking time bomb.

If there’s an apology perched there, Aeris doesn't bother trying to get it out. He can't even decipher if he wants to utter a pathetic 'I'm sorry'.

"Just go, Lorna. If I'm that shitty, just go. Don't waste anymore of your precious time. The door's right there."

@dilcne

[angeli-marco-writes]

Loki Laufeyson - Darling

A/N & WC- I made this so that the reader was in a similar situation to Nat before the Avengers, a spy trained in the red room, but she works in a team similar to the avengers. I do not own the character of Loki, nor the universe this is set in. 2.5k.

Warnings - mention of blood, guns, explosives, sex, sexual assault; canon level violence in an MCU-type battle, nightmares/flashbacks and implications of PTSD, a bit of swearing.

Summary - Night terrors have haunted you for a long time, but you've always kept them quiet. However, your first night with Loki proves to be more than either of you banks on. He doesn't mind your troubles, and holds you through it all, bringing you back from a nightmare.

YOU CAN STILL FEEL IT, even now. Still see the bodies littered within the open plains of grass, the mud soaked with the blood of your enemies. Still hear the sound of rifles and new tech shoot from all around you, deafening, even after all this time. They’re shooting at you, at your team. You’re not safe, not even in the ship, behind that flimsy wall of tin that’s supposed to be bulletproof and yet has pierced many of your best spies, in that bed on the harsh floor you’ve called your own for far too many missions: you need to move out.

The thunderous clap of some more insane tech rings out, temporarily paralysing you and all of your senses, like you’re not even there anymore, sending waves of agony through your tired, tired brain, your ears already thrumming from one that was dropped not hours earlier. It makes you wonder, dreadfully, how many you’ve lost this time: no one is ever safe out here.

Had you known you’d be this outmanned, you’d have convinced the leaders not to send you out here. These superhuman battles are nothing but hell to pay, especially when you’re a mere human with your past in hell worse than this.

That’s the worst part about this. It’s your sleep shift, having been out there for hours earlier, creeping through the trees, flipping to catch people by surprise, handling your guns and weapons with virtuosity, screaming orders at your team, cleaning up their blood; it’s no wonder you can’t relax.

You should be trying to catch some sleep, but how can you, with this latex stuck to you, and the chance of more people dying while you're on a break? You’ve been at the top since you left the Red Room, and some of them are barely rookies, yet they still have the audacity to slither into the team with you, yelling orders and overriding you, while you’re shaking and begging for this damned battle to be over.

No more bloodshed.

That’s when another shot rings out, too close for comfort, and you know, you just know it’s done. The roar of planes or new soldiers for the other side doesn’t even wake you from your living nightmare anymore, nor when a sensory grenade lands in your shelter. Thankfully, that particular event hasn’t occurred in a couple of battles, but the last time, despite your orders, you lost ten good spies, not counteracted by the many enemies. There’s no space for grieving here, no time for emotions, sentiment. You fight, you kill, you find a way to sleep at night.

“Boss! Man down!” someone calls.

“Get evac! The hell are you playing at?!”

“It’s the pilot who’s… down. They shot him while he was tending to Nat.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, “get the team doctor, then.”

“There’s no time, he’s bleeding out.”

Your recurring living nightmare. The number of times a fight you have to sort these things out is astronomical. Just one moment of peace is all you ask for, one Goddamn second without death or destruction or dickheads would be a welcome thing.

“I’ll take him, you find someone, something,” you say, and bat the hand away that’s writhing its way around your body, only to take another, this time an arm with no strength, limp, blood trickling down and onto your uniform.

You’ve had to train in basic medicine should evac not be possible, because although most things can be shaken off with your extensive training, gunshots need to be staunched sometimes. In situations you need to deal with, you’re the one forced to put this training into practise as you forfeit your scraps of sanity in order to aid your spies.

“Come on, stay with me,” you implore, one hand cupping a cold cheek as his eyes go glassy, full pressure applied to the wound: it’s an M107, there’s no hope. One of those took out five of your men a couple months back when employed by a mysterious mask-clad soldier for the other side, and they just wilted like flowers.

The shots get louder alongside your cries, the ringing in your ears now little more than a din of background noise as the thunderous bullets shoot from their barrels across the field, one just grazing your head. The sound is so close, so violently sharp, your grip begins to fade before you can help it. It’s like there’s a hole opening up in your only semblance of safety, swallowing you whole. There’s nothing left for you here…

Only the faint call of a faraway voice is able to give you hope, “Darling, open your eyes, look at me.”

But then there’s nothing.

He’s never seen a sight quite like it. Of course it’s no secret, your past; he’s heard of your nightmares, the true horrors you’re forced to relive every waking—and sleeping—minute of your existence. Even Loki hasn’t been stupid enough to ask you about them, though, to pry for information, lest he risk very thing that has you in his bed right now.

Never before has he witnessed them, or anything as anguished as you lying there, right next to him in so much unimaginable pain that he can’t even enter your mind. He’s tried, and he’s still trying, but beyond the sound of gunshots echoing from your head to his, there’s nothing, just blood-smeared black. The red in your ledger.

In reality, he’s unsure how much longer he can see you this way, rendering him so helpless. Tossing and turning, sweating and panting, screaming and punching. The bed is little more than a bundle of soaked sheets, now. All he desires is to wrap his arms around you and tuck you into his body, cradling you until it stops and then some. Your first night together, first time sleeping in the same bed, even after months of dating. He can understand why you tried to put him off for so long, why you wouldn’t let him sleep with you until you had a full degree of trust. Some disgraceful part of him wishes he’d never seen it, a gnawing feeling of his old self coming back to haunt him. This time he won’t run, not when you need him, not when he has the chance to help you.

“y/n, can you hear me?” he whispers, his voice husky.

He turns over in bed and reaches out to touch you, barely the brush of his fingers over your skin before it’s gone, and he’s retracting his hand, full of fear that it’ll do more harm than good right now.

“The hell are you playing at?!” you exclaim, your words slurred, punching outwards, your arms flying of their own volition.

“Sweetheart, it’s just me, you’re okay.”

His words don’t penetrate your walls as your body seizes up entirely, arms locking at your sides momentarily, fingers flexed. Even Loki’s breathing is speeding up now. What the hell is he going to do if you don’t wake soon?

“Darling, please, wake up, I’m here. I’ve got you.” he begs, tears beginning to brim in his blue eyes, propping his slim frame up against his pillow, sliding up the headboard. He flicks on the small lamp beside his bed, bathing the room in a gentle light, not enough to startle you, and pulls back the remnants of white tangled around his own waist. “I know you’re there, come to me.”

You thrash around, your neck snapping from side to side faster than he can keep up with. “Find someone, something!” you scream, raising your hand to clutch your neck, clawing at your skin with a subconscious memory. “Stay with me.”

“Of course I’ll stay with you.” Loki murmurs in your ear, though more to reassure himself than you.

With great courage, he dares to shift his slender hand, wrapping it around your wrist, skin clammy, blood rushing through your veins, coursing, screaming, roaring. He tugs it away from your neck, a preventative measure. But you still don’t wake. Your pulse begins to race beneath his fingers, your chest convulsing where you lie.

“Darling,” he orders, panic evident in his low voice, “open your eyes. Look at me. Now.”

His hand drifts to your stomach, adding a slight pressure to the hot skin there, his fingers curling into your supple flesh, desperate, now, to do anything to still you, wake you. Help you.

In seconds, you’re alert, more so than both you or Loki thought possible. Your body works faster than your mind, still trying to unscramble what you were just working through, the memory attacking your senses. He’s pinned beneath you, powerless, his thighs captured between your legs and his chest indented with the sharp stab of your elbow. You've hardly even opened your eyes before two svelte wrists are tied in your hands, wound, held above his head. You blink once, twice, just to come to terms with your bearings. For a second you just see a man, not him, and the clarity offered when his face morphs into a terrifying, lethal shade of blue sends a lick of ice kissing down your rigid spine.

Wide eyed, he looks up at you, pure affection mingling with deathly fear— no, something worse than that, something that makes your skin crawl and your sick stomach plummet to your feet. Pity.

That’s all it takes for you to break down, your walls crumbling. The simple look of his crystal orbs gazing into your own eyes, boring into your soul, begging for you to come around, to come to him

“Darling,” is all he says to you, ever so gently, his voice laced with sympathy, pain, understanding, love.

You deserve none of it, not after that abhorrent show you put on, that vicious attack, rendering him supine beneath you, his dreaded, loathed Jotun coming out. It’s all your fault, an inner voice notifies you.

You’re stronger than the other Avengers emotionally, stronger than Nat and Steve and Tony, something even more surprising considering all you’ve been through. Not once have you shed a single tear in front of any of them, not even Loki, not through fights or team deaths or anything: you’ve never proven yourself to be the least bit emotional, always detached, always inhuman when it seems you’re the only mundane. Perhaps that’s why Loki gasps so harshly when you tumble off him, collapsing into your side of the bed, atop the rumpled white sheets covered by a gentle glow, shining the sweat on your bare skin as you cry into your trembling hands.

He watches listlessly as you curl up into a tight ball, feeling his heart flutter in his chest when you begin to sob, wholehearted bawls that rack your whole body. Shock floods him, helpless surprise. “Darling, don’t cry.”

Your cries drown him out, tears soaking the sweat dampened pillows, and he daren’t say anything more, he daren’t upset you more, but perhaps his touch can soothe you; he hopes so, at the very least.

He shifts, barely perceptible, closer to you, just gently, turning onto his side, wrapping an arm around you, enveloping you in his warmth and love, spooning your body, so small in comparison to his, your legs entwining with his of their own accord, of a volition far from your tired mind. He gently brushes a chaste kiss to the side of your neck, just beneath your ear, the special spot he knows can make you wilt within moments. He winds both arms around you, his forearms corded with muscle, softening the comfort pillow he creates around your stomach. That’s how he holds you, oh so tenderly, barely brushing kisses to your skin, patiently lying there with you, feeling your heart calm until it beats in sync with his own, waiting for your heart-breaking sobs to eventually subside.

You roll onto your back, moving slightly, just to get a better look at his face, so at peace, his lips in a thin line, though not one of displeasure as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder affectionately. How can he hold you in such an adoring way after what you did? He truly is too good for this world, deserving of so much more than you.

“I knew I should've gone back to my room,” you say, your voice hoarse, “this is why I didn't want to stay with you.”

Don’t say that, he wants to protest, but he knows he has no right to say such, resorting to; “But I'm so glad you did, because now I see the real you.”

“I’m so sorry Loki.” you suddenly bawl.

“My precious girl,” he coos, holding you even tighter, his breath fanning your skin, setting a fire in its wake, “you needn’t apologise for your night terrors. You brave them better than I ever have.”

If your shock shows on your face, you wouldn’t be surprised: wide eyes and fallen jaw, you never dreamt even for a moment—

“You get them too?”

“To an extent, yes.”

You can’t prevent yourself from desiring more comfort, ignoring the discomfort and irritation of the sheets digging into your side as you move further into Loki’s grasp, his ebony hair splayed out like a devil's halo around his beautiful pale face, gazing at you like you’re the world's richest treasure. He holds all you seek.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, Midgardian or otherwise. Your company is a sheer privilege, every second I’m permitted to spend with you.” He breaks his words off with a sweet kiss to your awaiting lips, his blue eyes twinkling with nothing but unadulterated love. “You have experienced what others can scarcely imagine, whiling each day with a hard smile and an admirable determination. You, my darling, are incredible.”

This time when the burning tears begin to flow, fat salty drops cascading down your cheeks, you realise they’re happy tears. Splashing onto Loki’s bare, toned chest, he doesn’t seem to mind, and simply wraps an arm further around you, pressing a kiss to your hairline now as you nestle into his warm chest. It feels right for you to clamber into his lap, onto him, laying yourself down fully over his supine form, nowhere near trapping him, but still feeling every inch of his body so close to you.

“Loki,” you say, hesitant in your words, glancing up at his baby blues, twinkling in the faint lamplight, “what are you doing?”

He gulps, his throat bobbing viciously just inches from your face.

“Holding you close to me, what does it feel like?" he purrs. "We could be doing something else if you continue looking down on me, like now, with a purely lustful face does.”

You chuckle at the joking tone in his voice and nestle into him. For the moment, you’re more than content just in his arms, his lips capturing yours tentatively.

“Loki. Go to sleep,” you command softly, your eyes fixing on his with a certain weaning intensity, betraying your tiredness.

“I will wait for you to, first, my dearest. I shall never let anything hurt you.”

He remains true to his word, already formulating plans to help you shield your mind from your past, ways to help you heal from your trauma, anything he can do to reassure you, to ensure your safety. He’s tugging newly (magically) dry sheets up around your no longer shaking body, the cold material sending chills down your arms curled around his neck, rising the hairs on the back of your neck when paired with his touch. And, with his heart beating rhythmically against your chest, the steady rise and fall of his body simultaneous with your own, you finally feel that strange sense of indelible calm wash over you, allowing you to finally be at peace.

Loki’s hot breath fanning your tender neck, his lithe arms cradling around your covered back as you slowly drift off, he trusts his own words at last, and deep in his gut, he knows instinctively that he has found the person he was born to protect.

For the rest of the night, you sleep peacefully. Not a nightmare or a flashback in sight. Loki truly is quite the darling.

[kookznoona]

When He Thinks You're A Sasaeng But You're The Daughter Of HYBE's CEO||Jeon Jungkook FLUFF||Part 2

Genre: Idol!JK, CEO's Daughter AU

Word Count: 900

Description: Tooth-rottening FLUFF with Y/N's Overprotective CEO Father and bratty Jungkook

Summary: You've always had a mild crush on Jungkook, even though you've never had any conversations, you've always spotted him helping the staff all the time.

PS: Read Part 1 Here!

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

You and Jungkook have been getting closer day by day and have started to spend an enormous amount of time together

You can't quite describe it, he started to be a bit more 'protective' and more 'helpful'

Jungkook definitely considered you more than just a 'friend' and this is not based on assumptions.... He literally punched a guy who tried to bother you once

And you're having the best time of your life, spending time with the one you admire the most... Jeon Jungkook

After 1 Year

Jungkook has lately been getting onto your nerves randomly calling you 'little girl' or 'princess' at the office when y'all are alone, just to see you get flustered and wide eyed, and casually leaving the room as if nothing ever happened

...Truth and Dare is a Dangerous Game...

You hated the fact that his actions have such an adverse effect on you

He's damn hot and the posters you received didn't help fight the heat

Yes, it bothers you because it affected you a lot, getting your face painted red and heart thumping, but you knew better than to fight with a shark while not knowing to swim.

Although he behaves like a total dickhead trying to see you blush and hide, just to smirk right after, he never disrespected you

As much as you hate to admit it, you like him

You like him for the way he is, not giving a fuck about the world and dancing as he pleases

And how you melt every time your eyes meet his

But... What if he doesn't like you back...?

What if he just thought of you as an ordinary smart girl that he can bother every now and then and nothing more?

Or what if-

What if he's not allowed to date as per the contract?

Your Heart Stopped

"Miss Y/N?" The manager called out

"Y-yes?" You snapped out of it

"I've been looking for you, we need to confirm the list of stylists, I know you're extremely busy, but could you please tell me where Mr. Y/L/N is?"

"I'm not quite sure"

"Thank you ma'am, sorry for disturbing you" he says leaving the room

You say to yourself, "Maan! I really gotta know if the contra-" you stop in your tracks as you spot Jungkook entering the room

"Hello princess" You hear him say

"H-i" you say Blushing madly

"Aww, are you shy little one?"

"St-op ple-ase"

"Aww, you're so cute"

"Please!" You say hitting his arm

"fuck" you cuss under your breath

"Please Fuck? Baby you sure about that? I just enter the room wanting to ask my to-be-girlfriend if she wants to be my girlfriend and she wanna fuck already?"

You bury your face in your hands

...and then it hits you

"To-be-girlfriend...?" You ask and hide your face

"Yea, my to-be-girlfriend coz I haven't asked her out yet, but I don't even think I need to ask her that..."

"Why do you think so?" Your eyebrows crease

Jungkook reaches his hands in his pockets and opens his Gallery playing a video

A Video of you accidentally sleeping in your office chair and Sleep-talking

"Kwook- Koo- I wuv wuniworns wand wainwows bwut- I wuv wou mwore"

"you're adorable bunny" he says chuckling

And the video stops playing

You blush "This is so damn embarrassing! Delete the video!" You say Tryna snatch his phone

"Ofcourse not honey"

You whine at his words

"And when did this incident happen?"

"Almost a Year Ago... The day after I called your father ugly, I entered the office and I heard you speaking to me in your dream and I just had to record it because it was so fucking cute"

"So, yea, Technically you're already my girlfriend before we even spoke about it"

"ahem" your dad clears his throat

"Good Morning Mr. Y/L/N"

"Any reason you're here?" Your father asks

"I-uhm-"

"Yea dad, he said that the manager wanted to confirm the list of stylists with you so he came to give you the message" you promptly fill in for him

"Yes sir, that's exactly wh-"

"You- I remember You- you're the one that Called Y/N a sasaeng! Y/N did he bother you?"

"No dada"

"Okay... But You stay away from Y/N! I don't want nobody bothering my daughter!"

"Bu-" you try to protest

"I don't want you near her at all-"

"Dad, I'm fine, it was just a misunderstanding earlier, we've cleared things out now..."

"Hmm... Okay bu-"

"Dad, they also said that the list of the stylists has to be reviewed before 10 AM for immediate results or else we'll have to wait for more than two weeks"

"Oh no! It's 9:30! I gotta Rush! Take Care Pie!" He says and rushes

"You Fucking Lied Y/N didn't you?"

"Hell yeah"

"What if he finds out?"

"He won't know I lied, because he likes to show he plans everything 2 days in advance, so he'll never admit that it was last minute or something" you say

"Oh okay, hehehe"

"I hate Lying to dad, but I can't Jeopardize meeting you, Damn you Jeon! I lied to dad because of you!"

"So... um... Girlfriend, Will you be my girlfriend?"

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

A/N: Requested by @/bangtangirl67 on Instagram

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Take Care~

[dizzyingdaze]

no seats | s.r

a scenario where you can't keep your mouth shut and steve rogers wouldn't want it any other way.

only warning is cursing

New York was somewhere you never thought you'd visit let alone live in, yet here you were. Clutching the bag of your friends coat as she shuffled her way into the busy cafe during lunch time, the worst time to be in any cafe in the city.

Women in pencil skirts exchanged pleasantries with men in dark suits, briefcases occasionally knocking off the guitar case lain against one of the long sofas a group of teenagers occupied.

The jazzy playlist was overtaken by the loud chatter of the customers, the scent of fresh toasted panini's and cinnamon buns intermingling with the raw coffee bean tones. It was chaos to be short if the screaming baby who knocked over their babysitters iced coffee, smack in the middle of the bustling building, was any indication.

Hearing a hefty sigh pass your side, a young worker grabbed a mop and placed down a wet floor sign, shooing anybody standing nearby away.

"Oh no, we're not going to get any seats I think," your friend Karolina said to you, eyeing the usual window seats taken filled up completely.

You signed in response as the line waddled forward, names being shouted out as you continued to eye all tables, eager to jump at any tables with packing bags and empty drinks.

"I'm going to shoot upstairs and check, get me a mocha?," She nodded her head in reply as you broke away from the impatient grumbles and weaved through the tables.

As you neared the end of the stairs, accidentally kicking an empty cup on the floor, you eyed a girl sitting by herself, nestled in the of the window sets. Her bag sat on one chair while an empty one sat across from her.

Eyes widening with an idea you began to walk towards her when a couple beat you there. An almost six foot boy placed his hands down on the table, garnering the attention of the lone girl.

"My girl and I need somewhere to sit and I see your cup is nearly empty. Mind moving? Thanks," He bared his teeth at her in an almost smile, the annoyed crease between his blonde brows giving him away.

His girlfriend seemed less than interested, typing out a message on her phone, only glancing up when the girl opened her mouth.

"Actually I'm waiting on somebody as I'm meant to be tutoring, I don't mind giving you one of the seats though?" She gave a watery smile, her hands beginning to slowly shake at his direct nature.

He downright glared at her response, leaning further into his hands until his face was an inch away from hers. "I was being courteous, now I'm annoyed. Move it,"

Her face flushed red at the embarrassment as his girlfriend began to giggle behind him, clearly used to his egotistical nature. Your own face flushed too but rather in anger, just who the fuck is this dick ordering around random girls?

What a huff you strode up to till you stood between the two, pushing him back with your hand you glared harshly at him as a "What the fuck?" escaped his lips.

'What the fuck yourself, who are you to tell this girl to move? Everybody here wants a seat to yet you don't seem them acting like a little child," You spat watching his neck go red at the confrontation, clearly not used to it.

He stumbled for a second finding words before shooting back "I can tell whoever I want to move especially if she's been sitting there with an empty coffee cup. I don't have to listen to any bitch trying to boss me around!" The cafe had gone quiet as he shouted out the last sentence, Karolina looking on surprised, the drinks held in her hand. She moved forward to pull you away from the scene but you didn't even budge.

"Oh I'm the bitch? That's rich coming from a dickhead picking on somebody smaller than him, tell me, do you always start throwing tantrums when you don't get what you want? Like a child?," Hearing you call him a child again seem to strike a chord in him.

His girlfriend moved to pull him back as his hand balled in a fist, Karolina whispered to you "Not again, let's go please," into your ear. But you both shared the same stubborn nature, refusing to move.

The tension rose as you just stared each other down, veins almost bulging, jaws clenched so tight they began to ache. The man pointed his finger right in your face, the thought of biting it ran through your mind. "You do not tell me what to do and I'm not a fucking child you hear me? You better learn to keep your sharp tongue to yourself and out of my goddamn affairs!" His attention shifted to the girl he had originally spoken to, her eyes beginning to tear up as he moved the finger from you to her.

Pushing him back again, outraged at the audacity he had to even speak to her again you pushed him back full force with both your hands, grounding your boots into the sticky floor. Taken aback he stumbled into his girlfriend and you swore you could see his pride take a physical hit.

Without missing a beat he rolled his shoulders and balled his fists and you did the same before two large figures stepped between you two.

"Easy there tough guy, hitting a dame the best way to win a fight you shouldn't have started?" The voice wasn't familiar but the metal fingers peeking out of the black denim jacket was, clutching the boys shoulder so hard he bent forward at it. "Let me go what the fuck-" He started before the stranger grabbed the back of his lettermen jacket and dragged him out of the shop through the back exit, the girlfriend shouting along with him as she followed them out.

The second man had bent down in front of the girl in the middle of this all, her shoulders shaking as the man whispered soothingly to her. You coughed awkwardly uncurling your fists, clocking all the eyes on you and your friend just deadpanned at you. "Don't you even try, why does your ass always have to get in the middle of other peoples business? I said, don't start!" She placed a finger over your lips as you obediently went quiet.

You could always explain later. You turned to face the man and the girl, to see how she was when you recognized who he really was. Light blue eyes stared into yours as you took in the broad shoulders and blonde hair peeking out from under his cap. You just blinked in surprise but said nothing, choosing to crouch in front of the girl who was no longer shaking.

"Are you alright?" She nodded, thanking you as she bent forward for a hug you gladly returned, albeit a bit quickly because there was so many people here. "I probably would have moved and most likely cried in the bathroom so you know, thanks for that," You grinned at her response, standing up as Karolina threw her free hand up.

"If you're not outside in the next five minutes i'm throwing your drink down the drain," She stalked out, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her as the onlookers resumed their previous activities, leaving you standing rather stiffly in front of Captain fucking America.

"I take it from your friend being annoyed, you do that thing a lot?" His lips curling up as you nodded shortly. "She's not actually annoyed at me, she'd be more annoyed if I let that twat continue to shout at her and do nothing," He chuckled at that, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket as you stared at the door your friend left.

"Well don't let me hold you back but hey, Captain America approves of your social justicing! Or in the name of social justice? You get what I mean," His cheeks blushed a light pink as you giggled at his roundabout way of complimenting you.

"Yeah I'll say that next time it happens. Nice to know an Avenger approves! I'd better go..." You trailed off as he stepped to the side and sent a curt salute your way.

As he watched you saunter away Bucky, who re entered the shop from the entrance, clapped a hand on his shoulder, sighing lowly. "She reminds me of you in some weird, female way, hopefully she doesn't end up in back-alley brawls" He commented, Steve scoffed as they made their way back to the two seater in the corner of the cafe, drinks now a gross lukewarm temperature.

"Please, did you hear her? Her words alone could get a guy bleeding internally," The words slipped out and Bucky whistled at them. "Didn't know all it took was some curse words and authority to get you mushy. Yet, Natasha is a poster child for it and you couldn't care less," Bucky grimaced after sipping his hot chocolate, the once sweet warm mixture now cold and slimy on his tongue.

The other soldier slowly circled the rim of his latte, thinking of how fast you stood up to him, pointing your finger up in his face. "Nat sticks up to assholes 'cause it's her job but she did it for the sake of it. Excuse me, I am not mushy!" He sent a quick dig to his friends shin the offended's brows furrowed at the sharp pain.

"Oh yeah? You're wearing the same damn look you did when Peggy came into the pub all those nights ago. Bet you even tried to find her name on those coffee cups the blonde had," Rubbing the attacked body part, Bucky snidely remarked.

Steve said nothing in response, choosing to stare out the window next to him. He was right, your quickly scribbled name was engraved in his mind as was the white ford fiesta you had hopped in a few meters down from the cafe. Not that he was looking, of course, it was mere coincidence his eyes never seemed to leave your figure.

Mere coincidence, he thought to himself as Bucky rolled his eyes at his friends behaviour. He wondered what weird excuse Steve was going to give for the rest of the week or month it would take to run into you again.

[bumbershots]

LOVEFOOL

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:

Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.

Word count: 3K

Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end...”

There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.

Life is full of firsts, Harry knows that, and he wishes to have been the first to sneak his way into Jane’s heart, all those years ago.

"You love her" it almost sounds like an accusation coming from Jeff, though the last thing he wants is to make Harry feel guilty. The musician doesn't reply, he shrugs, eyes never leaving her no matter how deep into the ocean she seems to be. "Does she know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "Did you bring her along just so you could tell her?"

"I enjoy writing music with her, that's why she's here," his tone leaves no room for more questions, the manager knows and sighs defeated. Harry stands from his spot on the beach and heads back inside the house, alone.

Is he being that obvious?

He reviews the past few days and wonders where he slipped, nothing rings any bell. Harry completely and conveniently forgets how he doesn't nag her for having a smoke after dinner, instead he just opens the window and stands close to it, or how he's been making her a cuppa everyday at noon. But it was the time when Jane asked him to help her French plait her hair when something clicked in Jeff's brain, the way Harry beamed at such a simple request left no room for questioning. Yet he asked him, because there was that tiny chance of it all being part of the manager's imagination, but when he looked back on it, the little things now made more sense to him and in a way he always knew.

They've been in Port Antonio for two weeks now and everything was going just dandy, Harry was writing more than ever, the first week he had a new song every day, he even polished the old ones and had a tune for his favourites, thanks to Mitch's help. When Jeff Azoff got there earlier this week, he spent a good two hours talking to Jeff Bhasker about how much of a good idea the trip was.

"Harry is on a writing spree." He complimented Azoff's client, it was nothing but the truth. However the reason for it all, was now heading back to the house to join the others after a good surfing session.

Jane went straight to take a shower, ready to rinse all the ocean's saltiness from her body, thinking how wonderful it would've been if her own worries could be washed away with her tangerine shampoo. In contrast to Harry's good spirits and excellent mood, her own cloud of trouble seemed to follow her all the way from London. She still hadn't heard from her husband, so it is safe to say he was still upset about her going away to work in Harry's album. It was impossible for her to forget the argument they had, at first thinking it was a joke on his side, insinuating that they were ‘shagging behind his back’.

After her shower, wearing comfortable clothes, Jane joins the others for supper but keeps to herself, still with the dichotomy about calling Alex or letting him be. He will eventually come to his senses and apologise. 

What if he doesn't? 

The thought alone of her clothes being packed in boxes by the time she gets back home almost makes her cry, perhaps she can call or text him just to test the waters. It is ridiculous how she seems to be more mature about this than him.

"Penny for them?" Harry's voice brings her back to the now empty dining room, the voices from the rest of their party can be heard from the living room.

"God I'm sorry H, lost myself out there for a moment," she is embarrassed, with him, the others and herself for letting this situation get under her skin. And she's also avoiding talking about it, with Harry or anyone. "I was just thinking about the tempo for Sweet Creature."

"Liar," he hates to be shut down by her more than anything. "Is it because I didn't let you eat the last peanut drop the other day?" It would've been easier for her to say it was, than to address the actual reason. But Harry hasn't lied to her, ever.

"No love, although I was a bit hurt because of that, it's actually this thing with Alex we are, I don't know, he was upset with me and said some things," Jane couldn't finish, her speech was cut short by a quiet sob and Harry was quick to pull her from the chair onto his lap and hold her tight. His own heart speeding at the sight of her distressed.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Two weeks ago." Her voice barely whispers on his chest, "he's being a wanker to be honest, just because he's not going on tour with any of his bands I'm supposed to be a stay at home wife!"

"Why don't you explain this to me, from the beginning, please?" He asks rubbing her back soothingly, and she spills it all, the having kids now or never argument, to her wanting to have a proper wedding party and finally the latest fight where Alex suggested an affair going on between her and Harry, the latter had to do his best not to put the option on the table, since her husband so kindly suggested it. Might as well, he thought. "It all sounds like a big misunderstanding, I know you're a great communicator sunshine, so it baffles me that you've let this go on for so long." He's got a point.

"You're right, but I feel like it's his turn, you know?" Jane's done weeping, but remained on her friend's lap and arms, head resting on his shoulder. "He's always forward, mature, a proper thirty year old except when it comes to arguments where we ought to reach an agreement," she plays a bit with the cross hanging from his neck, a scowl on her pretty face. "Like with the children thing, we only stopped arguing when I said that maybe in two more years we could have one instead of, you know, my early thirties." It's good that she can't see how upset Harry is.

"You gave into that one, he should do the same but it's his choice," Harry sighs and can't believe what he's about to say. "Take the day off tomorrow, call him or FaceTime, Skype whatever you choose, but have a proper conversation with him." She wants to argue and say it's not necessary to be absent the whole day, she can spare a few hours. But she will need time to think about what to say, make her point clear so they are on good terms until she goes back to London.

"Fine, but if he is still acting like a dickhead afterwards, I'm not going to let it into my head anymore, we will continue to bask in this great work environment going on here." Jane states, pulling away from his embrace just enough to give him that stern look she uses when trying to make a point, and Harry nods with a warm smile, the one she never gets tired of seeing. "I'll call it a night now, gonna be asleep in seconds now that I've got that out of my chest." She stands from his lap, missing his warmth instantly. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime honey pie." Harry says before leaving a kiss on her left hand that burns her skin from then till morning.

Jeff joins the musician in the dining room right after the girl walks away to her room, he takes a seat across from him and scrutinises the look of adoration his friend still sports once she is out of the room.

"She'll never know, if you never tell her." Jeff is right, but the thought alone of going through that again scares him to death. Or so he says, because there's a part of him that is fond of the thrill it makes him feel.

"It's not like I haven't tried, just last year I told her," Harry remembers that night vividly, how pretty she looked even with her makeup all smudged under her eyes. "I'm not sure if she heard, it was too loud like where we were at the time." He was also pissed out of his mind.

"H, there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"I'm not saying it is, but even if she did love me I– I would find a way to hurt her. Anyway. she's happily married now, it's too late." Saying it out loud doesn't hurt him any less like he thought it would. Harry sighs in defeat before rising from the chair, "she's everything to me, I wouldn't mess with her head by confessing my feelings, deep down I always knew she deserved better and now she has it and that's good enough for me." The musician disappears through the corridor where his everlasting love did just a few minutes ago, he paused for a moment outside her room, pondering whether to barge in and just follow his instincts, kiss her like he should've done after winning that award back in 2014.

Harry shakes his head and goes straight to his room, he reminds himself that it was time to let her go. It's for the best. He is not good enough for her, he can't even write a song for her, about her. He mustn't love her that much then.

What Harry doesn't know is that he can't write a song about her because he loves her too much, the poor lad can't even figure out where to start. But he's about to get rid of that curse in a day or two, he just needs to be patient.

The reward for it came, all of a sudden Harry wrote too many songs about her until she inevitably became aware of the situation they were in. Harry vowed to stay away from Jane’s life after recording the album. He dated people that didn’t remind him of her, and even moved temporarily to Japan. But despite all his efforts, four years later Harry still finds himself thinking about her, everything seems to be tainted by her. The music he adores, the new dinner recipes he cooks, the books he chooses to read.

Completely out of options he agreed to this blind date his friends set up for him.

He arrives at the modest restaurant they so kindly chose for the occasion. “All you have to do is wear something nice and show up.” Alexa reminded him over the phone last week.

This is a new first for him, it is also exciting, to take a seat at a table for two conveniently placed at the back, pretend to pay attention to the menu but let his green eyes avert to whoever approaches. Harry is having a great time, he knows that soon his date will arrive. He wonders what they’ll be like.

According to Alexa and Pixie, the person arriving is the perfect match for their young friend. Harry can only hope they like Vietnamese cuisine because that’s apparently this place’s special offer this week. If he’s lucky enough the date will agree to share a starter and perhaps two main courses, that way he doesn’t have to choose between one or the other.

“Here’s your table.” Harry hears the waiter speak and his gaze meets a very familiar figure standing beside him. It can’t be.

“Excuse me, there must be a mistake, I’m waiting for someone else.” Harry protests.

The waiter shakes his head and shows him the notepad with some specifications written down. “Nothing wrong, got specific instructions from Miss Chung, a lady will come in to say is here for Geldolf’s blind date, you are sitting at the table they reserved. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” He is quick to explain and disappear.

Jane sits because there is no way she can stand any longer, her legs are about to give out from the commotion. This was not the blind date she was expecting either. It’s been at least four years since she last saw Harry. The night after he finally admitted being in love with her, waiting for a reaction, anything from her, after what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes later, he walked out of her house and entire life, leaving her confused and upset.

“How’ve you been?” she asked after confirming that Harry wasn’t going to up and leave.

“Pretty fantastic, until you arrived.” He’s never spoken to her like that before, with so much affliction in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was set up on a blind date by Pixie—

He interrupts her. “That’s fucking convenient, did you all went to this much trouble, just to mock me? I thought they were my friends, you know, that even after everything, they cared about me.” Harry stops, his voice breaks, he’s so angry, hurt and confused by the situation. “Did your husband come along, to witness my humiliation too?” He looks around, trying to find the man of Jane’s dreams.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s here, haven’t seen him since we got divorced three years ago.” She snaps before hiding behind the menu from a gobsmacked Harry.

The words he’d been waiting to hear were finally out of her mouth. Unlike the million times he dreamt about this happening, Harry is not sweeping her off her feet and running away into the sunset holding her hand. Instead he reaches out to touch her arm, testing the waters. He waits for her to lower the menu and surprisingly there are no tears in her eyes. Perhaps only a bit of sorrow that is quickly replaced with confusion, at how fast her heart raced after Harry’s touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is back to oozing the tenderness he reserves just for her. Jane nods.

“But can we share a rice bowl and Pho noodle soup?” 

“Yes, and dessert too!” Even after four years Harry’s sweet tooth hasn’t changed, Jane sighs before the waiter is back to take their order.

Keeping a conversation between the two of them is not hard at all, even if it is an awkward topic —her not so recent divorce. “We didn’t have anything in common anymore, there were so many fights every single day. When I finally suggested the separation, he seemed relieved and I felt like a complete fool.” Jane remembers the sigh of comfort that came out of the man she once loved with all her heart before that rainy afternoon, when she finally decided that she’d had enough. “He left that night, hadn’t seen him since, his lawyer took care of everything,” a sour laugh escapes her lips, Harry’s eyes are full of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry for ruining your blind date, I know you’ve never been to one before.” Of course she did, she knows him better than anyone.

“This has to be the greatest date I’ve ever been to.” He speaks without a second thought. 

All those years Harry spent away from Jane were not going to be in vain. He was not going to neglect the feelings he still had for her. That affection he felt for her, only her. Harry shifts in his seat, this is not at all how he planned it, in a restaurant full of people on fucking Valentine’s day. It almost seemed like a tacky move.

But after all this time of pining for her, hating her and himself at times. Harry was brave enough, it was now or never, he didn’t want to wait any longer, not after his friends schemed and executed this soppy plan to bring the two soulmates together. Before she could take the final bite of dessert that Harry kindly left for her. The world stopped.

“I don’t want this to end...” Harry says with a dimpled smile she can’t look away from. “I’d like to take you out on a second date, a third, fourth, fifth. Believe me when I tell you, I have planned up to a thousand of them.” He takes her hand in his and can feel her pulse race along his own. The smile splits his face again, because he knows, he feels, he sees it in her beautiful eyes. “Janey, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. I know there is a name for this emotion, I’ve written songs about it, but now I don’t think it’s a word big enough for us.”

She squeezes his hand and breaths out a laugh, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. “Let’s call it love, until we come up with a better name for it.” Harry agrees and just then, Jane brings up his hand to her lips. 

His skin tingles where she kisses him for the first time and he beams at her.

There’s a first for everything, and although it feels like it for Jane and Harry, this isn’t by any means the first time they confess their love for each other. It was always there, in every laugh they shared, every song they wrote together, every touch. It was on Harry’s unwavering devotion, on his impatience and selfless actions throughout the years.

They were bound to be together, their story didn’t begin on that initial blind date, it did years ago after he caught a glimpse of her shiny black hair on the morning she moved into the house across the street.

Harry drives her back to her new flat on the other side of the city, enjoying every minute of the long ride, happy to hear her ramble about her newest obsession with romantic novels and burst out laughing after Jane confesses that sometimes she doesn’t finish reading books she likes, just to pretend the story keeps going. With a quick kiss to the back of her hand he completely agrees.

No tale is more compelling than one that never ends.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Rise Of Glory || 6

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

Harry and I wander to the cobble steps to his mother's house, Alex asleep in Harry's arms from the long drive. The drive was quiet, not because I am tired but because I don't know what to say at this point. Nothing I do or say is going to change things or make anything better. I am at a loss.

The door opens, and his mother stands in the doorway, bewildered by our sudden appearance. I don't blame her. It is unlike us to abruptly show up on her doorstep. Most of the time, Harry gives her a heads up.

She grants us her routine tender smile and ushers us inside.

"What brings you two here suddenly?" Harry's Mum questions.

I glance towards Harry, curious as to what he plans to tell her. Telling your mother you only came to visit to see a grave is not something you'd want to admit out loud or at all.

"Uh," Harry clears his throat, "The media have swarmed my building and are starting to come out at the house. We came here to get a break," Harry answers, opening his arms to half-hug his mother, who he has missed dearly, he won't admit it, but he has. He may hate having to come to Cheshire, I don't think that will ever change, but he loves having his mother back in his life at a more constant and healthier level. Their relationship has improved tremendously since I came here when we first started dating all those years ago. I still remember that weekend like yesterday.

It was the weekend I realised that the man I was falling in love with gives everything he has, mentally, emotionally and physically, to his mother and sisters wellbeing. He'd allow himself to drown a million times if it meant his family could stay afloat.

"I'm going to put him down," Harry informs his mother and me, giving me a tired smile before walking past me and down the hallway towards Harry's old bedroom.

Harry's Mum peers over towards me, her brows furrowing and her lips pursing; I can tell her thoughts are ticking away and that something is playing intensely on her mind. She has the same expression Harry has when he wants to say something but leaves the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure of whether to say them or not.

I cock my head to the side, debating myself whether to give her the go-ahead to tell me whatever is on her mind.

"He's lying to me," Anne bluntly states before I can figure out how to ask her what's on her mind, "You had to have left at around 3 in the morning to be here by now. He's tired, almost like he hasn't slept in days," she points out, "And you… you look exhausted too. I don't believe it's the media at your house that caused you both to drive up here… I'm not complaining. I'm just… I'm curious."

"It has been a long week for him. He wanted to get away." I don't know who I am trying to convince more, myself or her.

"He hates it here with a passion. I have seen the articles."

I nod, agreeing with her. She knows the truth. Harry doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he still hates this place. Even when we first started dating, he made it known he wasn't happy to be back. His home town brings back memories he doesn't want to remember, especially when he and his relationship with his mother were strained to the point they weren't speaking at all. "This is where he wanted to come."

"But it isn't where he wants to be… he hates it up here… are things that bad in London?" She questions softly, and I can't help but nod. She looks me up and down and bites her lip for a moment, almost as if she's holding back whatever thoughts are racing through her thoughts, "Are you and Harry okay? You're not fighting or?"

"We're fine," I immediately cut her off, "It's the business and the media that's pushing him off the rails."

"Mhm," she hums, "And you, are you okay?"

I give her a small smile and nod, "I'm okay."

"You're lying."

"Anne—"

"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"

"It's been a rough few months," I softly respond, "It has taken a lot out of me."

The last three months have been an absolute roller coaster, mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm not quite sure how I've managed to keep things together to the extent I have. There are still days I feel like the world's weight is so heavily on me that I can't breathe. There are days I feel like I'm drowning and can't pull myself away. There are the days I feel like I'm finally okay and can breathe, but the second I manage to come up for air, there's something to pull me down, whether it's work-related, family-related or past related.

"Why didn't you call? Harry kept saying you were fine."

"I have been fine," I respond softly.

In all honesty, I have been fine… kind of. I'm as fine as what can be expected, considering the events that have happened. I'm not going to lie, I may be fine, but I'm still very much up and down when it comes to things. There are good days, and there are bad days.

"If you ever need me, I'm just a call away. You know that, right?" She offers me her sweet, caring smile that has always assured me of tough times and situations.

"Yes, I know."

"Okay, go get yourself some sleep."

"I have work I need to do once I get my laptop out of the car. We might be up here, but the business doesn't stop just because we aren't there."

"Well, at the very least, take a seat on the couch, put your feet up and relax for a minute. Let me at least make you some tea."

"You're too kind to me," I smile towards her.

"You're kind to my son. It's the least I can do for my darling daughter-in-law," she beams.

Anne hands me a steaming cup of tea as I answer a few emails from my phone, too tired to go out and get my laptop. "I have one last question."

"Mhm," I hum, waiting for her to ask what is on her mind.

"What happened to his hand?"

"Oh, he was washing dishes and somehow cut his hand," I tell her the truth.

I don't think it is my place to tell her about Logan or that Harry might be losing his mind. Right now, it is up to Harry to speak to her and want to talk about things. I cannot force him. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Harry will speak when he feels like speaking, and he will tell his mother when he is ready and on his terms.

I don't think I should be the one to tell her that we made the long drive up here just because Harry can't wrap his head around the fact Logan has risen from the dead. No mother wants to hear that as a reason as to why their son has finally visited.

I wish I could say that we visit here often for good occasions, but it is far from the truth. We come up here for holidays, and that is as far as it goes. I have made the drive a few times with Alex to get away from the city, but that has been on rare occasions. Harry doesn't like the idea of me making the drive on my own, and he hates having to come up here. We have settled on staying away from Cheshire and having his mother visit us when she can. I do wish things were a bit different. I do wish we lived closer to his Mum or came up here often. I think it would benefit Harry to be around his mother more and have a family sense. He has my family, but it is different. His mother is irreplaceable, and I know that deep down, he misses his sister. They may not be on the best of terms right now, but I know he loves and misses her.

When Alex is a little older, I would often like to bring him up here to see the neighbours' baby animals. He would love playing with the goats and picking fresh farm eggs, which is not as usual in our life. He would be thrilled to run the fields without a care in the world, a completely different environment compared to home. We have a lot of space for him to run around at home but nothing like the countryside.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

With Harry's fingers laced with my own, I pass the identical headstones that I passed in November of 2021, on the same day we buried Logan.

Nothing has changed about the cemetery. It's still as uncanny and ill-fitting as it was that day. The headstones are still cracked and withered with the voyage of seasons. It is a shame how the graves fade away. It's almost as though since these souls have left earth, nobody cares enough to fix up the graves that have cracked and deteriorated. It bothers me now like it did the day I walked through here a few years ago.

This cemetery is old, at least over 100 years old. I remember noticing some of the inscriptions when I was here last dated back to the 1800s. These monument stones of cold, decaying cement have presumably observed more people and tears of melancholy and exuberance than one could probably picture. And yet, nobody can take the time to take care of the graves. There are scarcely any flowers on the graves.

It disheartens me that as I escort past all these graves, I still feel saddened even years later because we pass by people who have once lived and wandered this very earth.

"Harry, are you sure it's this way?" I challenge as we pass another row of headstones.

I can't tell if my anxiousness tells me we have gone too far or if we need just to leave and go back home. Part of me doesn't want to wander any further than what we have. After all, walking through grave yeards is always eerie.

"I'm sure I know where my dead brother is buried," Harry grimly mutters, "I was here for it." Harry reminds me of the day he endured.

"No need to be so… morbid," I inform him, doing my best to keep my voice low. We don't need an argument in the middle of a cemetery, even if he is a dickhead.

I stop in my tracks, and Harry turns to glance at me as his hand leaves mine, "Why are you stopping?" Harry questions, and I can't help but take a moment to take in his features as a distraction.

I don't know how to tell him that I don't feel comfortable walking in this cemetery, I don't want to go any further, and I don't think this is a beneficial approach. Nothing good ever comes from this place. I push away my thoughts and feelings, "I couldn't remember if I checked on Alex before we left," I lie. I know I checked on Alex before we left. He was still asleep and cuddled up to his teddy bear.

"We both did, love. Mum knows what she's doing, and you know that, relax," Harry responds, kissing my cheek before lacing his fingers back with mine and beginning to walk again.

Harry and I come to an abrupt standstill, and the two of us become withdrawn while we take in the view of what's in front of us. Harry squeezes my hand gently, and I can't help but squeeze back, a small amount of reassurance for him to know that I am right here and that I can see the same thing he can see.

The deafening silence is intruded abruptly and without signal by the ghastly screech of a blackened crow— the same intense screech that I swear I first heard once Logan was buried in this plot.

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

I shiver as a tingle operates through my body, the character of the crow sounding like nails on a chalkboard. This is the same place I stood in years ago when the crow first screeched—Harry was squatting by the grave, gazing at the soil, and I was standing right here.

I take a breath of the crisp air, and my eyes immediately cast themselves on the crow that is shrieking. Its relentless stare catches my own before I take note that it isn't alone. Harry and I are outnumbered and are intently observed by one… two... three… four… five crows, possibly six; I can't tell if the shadow in the distant tree is one of them or not. Either way, I wish we had never come here. They say if you see five crows, sickness will follow; see six crows, and death will follow.

A gust of wind whisks past us, settling brittle, dead leaves to dance around our shoes to take my gaze away from the crows. I watch the leaves swing around our feet, twirling around us like vines, almost as though they're tightening around our feet and ready to pull us down. I caress my hand to my stomach as I observe the leaves tumbling, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my stomach that twists, knots, and tightens like the motions of the leaflets. The breeze declines, and the leaves become motionless.

I gaze back towards where the first crow was, only to find it gone, leaving me with nothing but an unsettling uneasiness in the pit of my stomach and an abandoned grave of where Logan used to rest.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

CHOOSE

Alexander “Tig” Trager x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: First part of Choose. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“So, what about (Y/N) and you?” Bobby asks sipping from his beer.

“What about what?”

“Ar'ya alrede' ‘official’”? Chibs adds while Jax, Juice and Happy leans above the table with a naughty smile drawn on their lips, palming the picnic table and making some noise.

“She's just a groupie, man”.

You can't hear Tig chuckling, because of the sound your heart does by breaking itself is louder.

“A groupie?” Jax's voice sounds confused, raising a blonde eyebrow as the palms stops.

“Yeah, you know. She's not one of those bitches that come here to eat us. But she's not my girl either. We just have fun”.

“You just have fun?” Juice asks incredulous, shaking his head just for a moment.

“Yeah, man! I must say I have eaten a lot of pussies, but, shit! Hers is a fucking delight. And she doesn' have any contagious disease, that's an important plus too”.

“If she was my mom, I would pull out your eyes”. The scratchy voice of Happy appears from nowhere, somewhat disappointed. “And I would eat them”.

“What the fuck?”

“Brother, that girl really lose her shit for you”. Bobby says, because it's something pretty obvious. “And you can say whatever you wan', but you're strained to the bone for that sassy girl”.

Tig's laughs flood the main yard, before drinking his beer.

“Man, you call her when we're ridin'. And her house it's the first stop when you come back”. Juice assures placing his forearms over the table.

“Yea', and you also have clothes in her house, and she in yours”. Jax hit the wood with his knuckles, watching the look on his face trying to hide how right they are.

“Oh! And remember that time (Y/N) told us that Tig brought breakfast at bed”. Ratboy palms Happy chest breaking into laughter, joying the talk, sitting by his side.

“We didn't even know you cook, brother”.

“C'mon, shut up!”

“And tha time ya brought ha' flowers”. Chibs points at Tig with pursed lips joking on him.

“Yeah, that was pretty romantic”. Jax continues with the jokes, making him feel angrier.

“I said she's just a fuckin' groupie. We fuck when I want. That's all”. Trager finishes the conversation, upset of their brothers teasing him about you.

Sitting on the sofa under the closest open window to them, you rest an empty beer on your lap. With your eyes on it and an incessant pain growing in your chest, lash after lash, you don't even know who the fuck are you. Then, the last year has been a lie. All those times he said he loved you, they were a lie. All those times he said he missed you, they were a lie. All those times he said you he didn't want a life without you, they were a lie. Like many others. Yes, he never asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn't know he had to do it to make it ‘official’. You thought it was implicit in the fact that you really look like a couple. Not like Tara and Jax, but somewhat like. And it's confusing look back and seeing all the shit he did for you and all the shit you did for him, only to hear that your a clean pussy to put his cock in whenever he needs it. No feelings. No compromise. No nothing. Just sex.

You take off the black high-heels, holding them by the strips, leaving away the beer. Getting up and putting on well the dress you bought for him, feeling stupid on one of these garments, you walk barefoot towards the exit door at the end of the hallway' dorms. Your car is parked there. Safe from the Sons' of other subsidiaries and their non expected fights just for fun. The only thing you want to do is drive your way back home and hide in your bed of the shame you're feeling, after listening him talking like that about you with his friends.

“Brother, listen”. Jax sits on the nearest stool at the bar. “I lost Tara for fourteen years, don' commit my mistake”.

Tig has another shot, ripping his throat as he cleans his mouth with the back of the left hand.

“I was fuckin' scared of seeing that I was in love with her. We do all this shit that has our families in a continuous danger, but I don' regret about what I feel for my wife”. He defends the point of view he's trying to make him understand. “She's a good girl and you look focused since you met. Think about it”.

The other man doesn't say anything with the blue eyes placed on some bottles in front of him.

“You ok?” Tara's voice pushes you to reality.

You shake your head somewhat confused, raising your gaze towards her.

“I've been standing there for the last five minutes, without you noticing it”. She chuckles, closing the door behind her back to have a sit at the desk, having a quick look of the medical records on it. “Too much work?”

“I wish… It's been a quiet day and I need to distract myself”.

“It's everything okay? Didn' Tig like the dress?”

By the look on your face, putting away your eyes, Tara knows something isn't going well. You leave a heavy sigh, closing your eyes just to contain a wild tear.

“I'm just a… pussy for him”.

“What the hell…? Don't tell that, (Y/N). Maybe he's not the most romantic man on earth, but he loves you”.

“Yes, that what I thought”. Laughing somewhat bittersweet, you put your arms above the table. “Last night I heard him talking with the guys. Telling them I'm just a groupie to fuck when he needs it”.

The woman snorts resting her back on the chair, rubbing her eyes with both hands.

“The only difference between those... bitches he used to fuck and me, it's that I don't have HIV”.

“Maybe he was dru—”.

“I never heard Jax talk about you, as Tig talked about me, when he's drunk”. You reiterate shrugging your shoulders. “He just… told me all that bullshit about love and a family and a future to suck his cock. And I was so fuckin' stupid that I believed him…”

“I'm sorry, sweetheart”.

“Yeah, I'm too”. You answer getting up and taking off the medical gown to hang it on the coat rack. “I'm done with my meetings. Could you tell Marcia I wasn't feeling okay and I went home?”

“Yes, sure. Don't worry about it”.

All his stuff is already on a plastic bag. His clothes, his motorbike' things for when he travels… Everything. It was painful collect them all, with his smell flooding your room while you were keeping them. Placing it over the table in the kitchen, you sit there just waiting for him to come. You didn't call him, but even if he lied to you, you know something about him. So, when he didn't find you last night, he probably went first to the hospital by morning. And proving that you're right, the roar of his engine comes closer as he reaches your house. Crossing the back door in front of you, he takes off the helmet putting inside it the leather gloves and the sunglasses.

“Your boss told me you weren' feeling ok, what's up?” He asks truly worried, or at least seems like. Leaning forward he tries to kiss you, but you pull away your face without any words.

Now he's confused as fuck, getting up finding the bag on the table. Opening it with his forefinger to have a quick look twisting the neck just for a second, the blue eyes go straight you.

“What's that?”

“Your things. I want you to leave”.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He demands making some gesture with both hands, as you get up of the chair.

“I'm not the one who lied every time I said ‘I love you’!” You push him away when he tries to take a step next to you, with all the pain concentrated on it.

“The fuck does it means? I didn' fuckin' lie to you”.

“Yeah, that's what you tell me in the meantime you tell your friends I'm just a clean pussy!”

“Who told you about that…?” He snorts cross-armed, supporting his waist against the counter.

“Nobody! I fuckin' hear you, Trager!” You scream totally mad, throwing him the plastic bag. “I just… fuckin' thought that someday you really would want to have a family... Shit, I'm so fucking stupid I feel so sorry for myself…”

“Sunshine, list—”.

“Go fuck yourself!” You push him away again, as he tries to grab your wrists, stirring under his grip. “You're a fucking dickhead!”

“Calm fuckin' down and listen!” He shouts at you for first time since you know him. Your heart stop, as your body does. Not because you're afraid, but because it's enough for you.

“I don' wanna see you anymore… Leave me alone”. You almost beg to him, shutting up some sobs stuck in your throat and your gaze away from the man.

He just nods in silence knowing that you are not going to come to your senses right now. So he grabs his things with anger, before throwing your house's keys on the table. Only when he disappear from the kitchen is when you break in tears. You had too much contained in your heart and you can't help but cry louder than never. Sometimes you have had fantasies about living together, having some free days and getting lost on the road, with nobody close to bother you. Sometimes you also have had fantasize of a kid running through your house calling him “daddy”. But it was just that. A year full of lies and a bunch of fantasies.

“What's that?” Bobby asks behinds the bar lifting up an eyebrow.

Tig throws the bag to the nearest wall, furious with himself and the way he has fucked up. His heart is beating fast, having a sit on a stool and grabbing a bottle of whisky to drink from it. There's no music in the clubhouse, just silence, so his guilty becomes louder of what he said. All those words dancing around him once and again.

“Clothes?” Juice asks taking the bag to open it confused.

“(Y/N) heard me last night”. He answers with his eyes getting reddened, trying to hold in the tears.

“I would have rip off your chest with a knife wetted on vinegar and salt”. Happy says without losing sight of the tip of the pool stick. After hit the white one, he raises his eyes towards him. “Later I would have pissed on you. Be thankful she kept your things in a bag”.

Jax looks at the ex-nomad not knowing why he's surprised about his threats. Walking close to Tig, with both hands inside the pockets, he supports a forearm against the bar.

“Now, what?” The president asks, lifting his chin in a simple gesture.

“Now nothing. I already lost her for being a fuckin' asshole. That's all”.

“Yeah, brotha, ya said fuckin' mean thengs bout ha'”. Chibs palms his back a little bit harder, making him spit the whisky in his mouth.

“Even if we were jokin'... Fuck man…” Jax shakes his head sighing, having a quick look of the Sons' faces. “Wan'me to talk with her?”

“No. I will… try to fix it”. He coughs by clearing his throat after the hit, having another sip.

“One year enduring your bullshit…” Bobby clicks his tongue, leaning above the bar. “I thinks it's fuckin' obvious what you should do, Tiggy”.

“Yes”. Juice, Chibs and Jax said in unison.

“That's the only way to fix it. And if you don' think so, then leave her alone”. In moments like that, Tig sees how much Jax looks like his father, with all those advices and wise words. “She's not a warm pussy, she's a woman who didn' care you're mentally fucked and who didn' care about what you do with the club”.

“I know…”

“Then, choose”. Palming the wooden bar, Jax finishes the conversation as if it was a table-business to Samcro.

[isitstraightvodka]

Strip

in which gwil doesn't like you and it's your mission to find out why.

pairing: gwilym lee x fem!reader

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: enemies to lovers, smut (the rough kind), oral (both m and f receiving), angst, swearing, alcohol use

a/n: hello my loves! i present to u what i have been working on for a while, it's filthy so read ahead w caution 😂😳 i really hope u enjoy it and please let me know if u do. any feedback, asks / rbs, would be much appreciated xx also gif credit is @mazzelloplots​ 💕

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

You had no idea what you'd done for Gwil to hate your guts but it must be dead serious because he just about didn't give you any attention whenever you were in the same room. It was infuriating, as each day passed, you racked your brain to remember if you'd done or said anything for him to act like this around you but as always, nothing came to mind. All you got was a cold stare, or no eye contact at all, and at the very least, a few sentences but that was it. It made it even worse that both of you were friends with Ben, after all that's how you were introduced to each other, you figured he'd be a good guy as was evident the first time you met, a regular mutual friend greeting; first handshake, small smiles and twinkling new eyes but ever since then, everything had changed.

Every time you went out and saw Gwil, he either said nothing to you but "Hi." or he'd rush off somewhere else the moment you approached him. The cold shoulder did not do anything for your confidence, you were a friendly person and loved meeting new people but this was something else entirely, the confusion soon turned to tension and anger, ripping at your hair during lonely nights in your apartment, thinking why doesn't he like me? Then you went to Ben who just shrugged and said he'd warm up to you eventually, which you found incredibly difficult to believe, you weren't having it, it had been almost half a year and no progress, you'd had enough, you had to confront him.

Your opportunity arose only a week later, during a party at Joe's house.  it made your muscles tense up knowing you were going to see Gwil, and it wasn't fair of him to give you this sort of treatment without a shred of explanation. Everything was in full-swing when you arrived by your lonesome, but you didn't waste no longer than ten minutes making your move, so there you were, drink in hand, when you cornered him talking to Lucy. Walking head held high, you approached them, and Lucy smiled when she noticed you, you shared a kiss on the cheek before exchanging respective compliments on each other's looks, then your attention went to him.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

Both he and Lucy looked at you before the blonde nudged him with her arm, giving him a cool stare, as if to say, "Go sort this out", which was true since you and her had talked about the situation too, and her response was "It's between you and him, so get in there girl and stand up for yourself", and right now, tonight, you were going to heed her advice.

Gwil took a deep breath and walked next to you as you made your way to the nearest room, where it was quiet enough to talk, but the walk there seemed to stretch on for hours instead of a matter of seconds. You could feel the anxiety flooding through your body when his arm brushed your shoulder, you could tell he wasn't looking at you, his fingers gripping his wine glass a little too tight. Some sort of emotion hung between the two of you, you couldn't put your finger on it but it was something strong, something deep, Great another thing for you to be confused about. What you didn't know is that Gwil felt it too. 

After what felt like an age, you entered the guest bedroom, all neat and empty, leaving the impression nobody had stayed in there for a long time. Gwil had his free hand tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, standing by the door once he closed it, silencing the bustle of the party, but still didn't give you his attention. You took a deep breath and tapped your nail on the rim of your drink, allowing your heartbeat to decrease, opening the conversation very kindly.

"I believe there is something we have to discuss."

All he did was part his lips and take a swig of red wine, leaning back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. Not one word left his mouth, he didn't move an inch and it took a lot in you not to start raising your voice. Why does he not want to talk to you? What is up his ass? Fucking say something, you bastard! The tension in the room was too stifling for you to cope with so you spoke again, but harsher.

"Fuck, you should man up and talk to me like a decent bloke, I thought you would be."

And that's when he finally looked at you. Without even realising it, the suddenness of eye contact made shivers run down your spine, deep blue eyes staring into yours, brows furrowed in faint disgust.

"Hate to burst your bubble then, love."

More shivers, rippling throughout your bones so fast you were almost afraid he'd be able to notice you slightly trembling. His voice wasn't supposed to do that....but it did, from the way he said it, from the way you finally saw his eyes in clear view, how fucking hot he looked just standing there, how had you not noticed that before? Because his blind hatred of you clouded that fact. You shook the thoughts out of your head and stood your ground.

"I seriously have no clue why you been acting like this around me. I have been nothing but kind to you, I haven't said one bad word to you, I truly wanted us to be friends but you find an excuse to escape me every chance you get!"

Your cheeks flushed red once the words left your lips, your free hand scrunching up into a fist, nails digging into your palm. Gwil all but sighed and...was that a smirk you saw? No, just a trick of the lights. The point of his shoe tapped the carpet as he looked down at his half-empty glass, collecting his thoughts.

"Not a bad word? I heard you talking to Joe the other week, you called me a dickhead."

"I have every reason to, you barely talk to me. This is the most you've talked to me in weeks."

"If you have reasons, then I have them too."

"Fucking tell me then instead of practically ignoring me! It's childish."

"So I'm the child but you're the one yelling." He cocked an eyebrow, was that another smirk? He's got me so confused? Is that what he wants?

"How do you expect me to react? I haven't appreciated the cold shoulder, Gwilym."

"I don't appreciate you running your mouth."

"Could just tell me whatever reasons you have instead of this."

You and him went back forth, trying to fight each other but it didn't seem to do anything good, it only heightened the tension between you two but a specific kind of tension. One you knew now and one he managed to figured out seeing you in front of him, raising your voice. In this moment, he saw how attractive you were, more so than he already thought, your face heating up and your hair glowing from the muted lights, the dress hugging your body almost provocatively, silver diamonds hanging from your ears and cherry-coloured lips parted slightly between words. You were so sexy and the alcohol buzzing through him wasn't helping, but this was the reason for it all. He fancied you.

"Look, it's complicated." He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. You had to bite back a laugh, is he serious?

"No, it's not. Open your mouth and just tell me."

But it turns out he didn't need to open his mouth, at least not the way you expected him to. It happened swiftly, too fast for you to comprehend, all you really saw was his glass fall to the floor, wine staining the carpet, then he crossed the room over you within three strides, took your face in his hands and crushed his lips against yours.

Your eyes flew open in surprise at the sudden pressure of his kiss...his kiss? You could barely understand what was happening, he held onto you like he needed air to breathe, you could taste the wine on his tongue, it was intoxicating, it felt...nice but was the wine nice or the aggression of his mouth? Questions swirled your mind, it didn't help your emotions during this moment, you didn't realise your mouth had opened on its own which allowed him to slip his tongue in a little and close the gap between you again, the second kiss even harder and more passionate, the softest groan of relief and delight from him ringing in your ears. You almost let yourself fall under his spell before you caught yourself and made a muffled squeak, your hand finding his jacket and pushing him away from you, gasping for a breath.

"What the fuck, Gwil?"

Thoughts circled your head, words bouncing off the walls, your hand brushing over your bottom lip, the gloss transferring to your skin as it had done on his lips, stained and shiny, you were surprised you were still holding your wine glass. He cocked an eyebrow at you as heat rose to his cheeks, he raised his hand almost as if he was apologising but you stopped him, holding up your own hand and shaking your head.

"What was that?"

"I...I kissed you."

"No shit Sherlock! Why? How is that supposed to explain anything?"

"I'm- I..." He couldn't seem to find the right words, he hesitated reaching his hand out further before deciding against it and pushing it back through his hair. You gulped, why is it so hot when he does that? You were so glad he couldn't read your mind right now, if he had heard what you just said, you sure would wish for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

"You think a kiss is going to solve everything? I'm not some plastic doll for you to play around with however you please."

"I..I know, I just..."

"Just what? I thought you'd tell me with words, I though-"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I like you, okay?"

His pupils were blown wide as much as yours when he half-yelled the words and this time you were sure the glass was going to slip through your fingers but it still didn't, in fact you had a right mind to just down the whole thing after what he told you. You thought he didn't like you...he liked you? If you were confused before, then you were even more now, your hand fell to your side as you stared at him, eyes like glass, you couldn't even blink. Gwil's gaze had turned to the floor, pretending to be interested in the pale white carpet, his fingers moving to the back of his neck where sweat began to form. He waited for you to speak, the seconds ticked by painfully, it felt so long before you said anything.

"You...like me?" You gulped, trying to process his revelation. He chewed on his bottom lip and tucked both hands back into his pocket, nodding as his eyes flicked over to you.

"Yeah, I do, I like you. A lot."

His voice seemed fearful, anxious but with an underlying desperation, like that of a teenager admitting a big brush, it was rather cute in your eyes; first hot now cute? How can he be both? Stop it, stop questioning everything. You cursed yourself, fingers wrapped around your glass harder you thought it might crack. Instead of replying, you drained the wine, it was the only thing you could think of doing. Gwil watched as your throat moved, as you swallowed, he shuddered and prayed he wasn't showing through his pants, now wasn't the best time, especially with how you reacted. You sighed as the last drop fell into your mouth and rushed through your veins, you finally let the glass fall from your grasp and land with a small thud on the carpet. Your fingers came together in front of you, interlacing as you twiddled your thumbs, eyelids fluttering as you collected your thoughts, one deep breath and you looked at him.

"I don't understand. You like me, but you have been acting like you hate me, why do that?"

Gwil didn't answer right away, he fidgeted, hands still in his pockets, his vision now turning to eye the golden lamp on the bedside table. In this light, you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the deepest blue, like a calm ocean, like a pair of warm sapphires, you found yourself not looking away. 

"I didn't mean to be that way, I was just afraid." He said, still not looking at you.

"Why afraid?"

"Of rejection. Of you already being taken. I didn't want to admit anything if I had no chance with you." He confessed, raising one hand out of his pocket to massage his neck, your eyes locked to his fingers, wondering what they'd feel like around your ne- Cut it out! You banished your dirty thought and continued the talk.

"The worst I could say is no, and I'd mean it without any offense. And I'm not taken, I think you'd know if I was."

"That's the thing, I thought you were!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" You peered at him. He sighed and scratched his beard, stubble littering his cheeks and chin, and right then, another X-rated thought entered your brain, You wonder what that would feel like between your legs...will it tickle? Itch? Arouse you? You think you wanted to know.

"Because you and Ben, and I...didn't want to get in the way"

You and Ben? You gave him a perplexed look as you tried to work out what your friend had got to do with any of this. Ben was really a great guy, you enjoyed his company, years of friendship had blossomed between him and you, and you loved being able to see him when he wasn't busy with his star-studded career, but there wasn't anything there to insinuate something more was happening between you two. 

Then it hit you.

"You thought that Ben...and me...that we...? Oh god no we're just friends!"

You bit back a giggle. Ben was easy on the eyes, anyone could see that, even Joe said it, multiple times, many conversation he'd told you, "That fucker's stupidly gorgeous isn't he?" but he was not your type. He was more like a brother to you than anything else. Sure there was the occasional kiss on the cheek, hugs a little longer than usual, his arm around your waist or ruffling your hair when you told a stupid joke, but friends did that, they could do that without having feelings for each other. Gwil almost lost his balance after what you said, Just friends...Just friends...

"Are you sure? I mean he's the pretty boy."

"Okay he's pretty but he is like family to me, I wouldn't hit that even if I was piss drunk." 

Your mouth curled at the corners, as did his and both of you shared  a small laugh. Your eyes fell upon the empty wine glass on the floor, teeth tugging at your lower lip; you could see Gwil's body shift a little closer, one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before you, chests almost touching. His fingers stroked your jaw, moving underneath your chin to bring your gaze up to his face. He looked...intense but still had a softness behind his eyes, something sweet and hesitant but at the same time, you could feel he wanted to continue the kiss he gave only minutes ago.

"So...no Ben?"

You rested your hand on his wrist, giving him a smile as your eyes went from his to his lips, mouth watering at the memory of them on yours.

"No Ben."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

"Gwil..."

His name was like chocolate on your tongue, as his tongue worked over and against your slick folds. One hand in his hair and the other curled behind your head, back arching with every hum he made against you, his mouth was insane, you hadn't felt such pleasure in god knows how long; he really knew what he was doing.  And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did, smiling as he pressed kisses to your swollen clit, groaning with each flick and lick, with each tug you made on his hair, and that mixed with the feeling of his stubble rubbing your inner thighs and right above your mound as he angled his lips in the most delightful of ways. 

You were getting closer, you could almost taste it, feel it....but he stopped and raised his face from between your legs, his arms still wrapped around your flushed thighs. His mouth was wet, his hair in disarray and his eyes dilated; he looked fucking hot, but right now, you wanted to scream at him for stopping it right when you were about to finish. He could see you were almost angry at how suddenly he pulled away from your heat, he stroked the curve of your left breast as he began to lay down next to you, his free hand resting over his mouth.

"Come sit here."

It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant, your breath got caught in your throat, slowly blinking at him in surprise.

"Are you...are you sure?"

"Yes, you're so beautiful, I'd love nothing more than for you to ride my tongue."

You certainly did not expect something so foul to come out of his mouth but fuck you loved it. A smile grew on your face as you sat up, as he brought his hands to your hips just as you were about to face the headboard, he pushed you in the other direction a tad.

"Sit the other way, baby."

Your cheeks became hot and you were almost embarrassed at how flustered a simple petname made you. You gasped as you got into position, his nose right there against you and in your line of eyesight was his sweaty body, his happy trail disappearing into his jeans, and through those, a bulge was unmistakable.

You'd made him hard and you hadn't done anything but kiss him, you giggled at the reality of it, the embarrassment fading into smugness. Gwil moved his hands over your thighs, giving one of them a slap and you yelped in shock.

"What are you laughing about, huh?"

You bit your lip as you answered.

"You're hard."

"O'course I fucking am. Eating you out did that to me, hell you make me hard just by looking at me." He murmured on you, and before you could say anything, his tongue was back on you, licking back and forth, covering the length of your heat, he didn't leave one spot untouched by his tongue. Moans flew out of your mouth, sweat beading on your skin as he switched between his lips and his tongue, going so far as to telling you to bounce, and doing that was one hell of an experience. You leaned forward and raised your hips so you could move more, his tongue stuck out flat so you could feel it inside you, warming you up, stretching you out, he really cared about making you feel good and giving you the best feeling before you reached your high.

Your hands latched onto the belt around his jeans, curled over his body, grinding over his mouth, his facial hair once again giving you that cherry on top, his growls of hunger and delight pushing you over the edge. One palm slapped your ass cheeks, his name flowing from your lips again.

"Cum for me, cum on my face, sweet girl."

And you did just that, body shaking as you rode out your orgasm on his face, his lips never detaching from your clit, intending to make you have the most explosive high, and it sure felt like that. Your toes and fingers were on fire, your heart shot through the roof and you had trouble catching your breath as he lapped you up, "Mm you taste so good", another slap to your ass, chuckling against your heat, nose bumping on your clit, making you whimper a little given how sensitive you were. You slowly sat up and ran a hand through your damp hair, laughing through deep breathes.

"Fuck, you're amazing at that."

"Thought I wouldn't be?" You could feel his smirk beneath you.

"No no, just...wow."

Gwil smirked wider and gave your clit one last kiss, your eyes back on the even-harder bulge in his jeans. He'd just made you feel incredible. You wanted to do the same to him. So instead of moving from your position, you simply leaned down over his toned chest and started unbuckling his belt.

"Oh I see someone's hungry too." He laughed, hands resting on your red ass. Something came over you, the sexual side of you suddenly arose and within seconds, his belt was off and you were pulling his jeans down. He gave you some help by lifting his hips, you pushed them down to his knees and now you could see how hard he actually was, almost bursting to be released from the prison of his boxers. You didn't want to keep him waiting, you giggled and tucked your fingers into them, and pushed them down to join his jeans, more giggles spilling out when you got the first proper look at his cock.

The tip was pink, precum already forming, he was thick, very girthy, bigger than you thought but still you weren't that surprised. You slipped your fingers around him and gripped him and he hissed, his breath hot on your cunt. You smiled to yourself and pumped him a few times, relishing how warm and hard he was in your hand, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the veins, satisfied with your work, you puckered your lips and wrapped them around the head of his cock, and the noise he made was so fucking sexy, the sweetest groan and the hottest whine.

"Holy shit..."

You concentrated on where you sucked and moved your mouth, your hand tight around the base of his shaft. From previous experiences, you knew lubricant of any kind worked a treat, so you took a moment to pull your lips off and spit over the head, gently rubbing wetness all over his length; that got him considering the deep moans he was making right against your clit. Feeling his mouth so close to you while you sucked him off made you powerful, like you had him in your corner, it was your turn to give him pleasure and in his hand, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. 

When his eyes were open, they were on your cunt, fucking you with his vision, his hands moving from your ass to your hips to your upper thighs, gripping your skin as his own hips started to move with your mouth and before long, Gwil was fucking your mouth. You choked and whimpered around his cock, delicious sounds from his perspective, leaving marks on your ass from how hard he was holding you.

"Your mouth's so warm and tight fuck baby I-"

His words encouraged you to do more, fingers away from his cock and moving to his balls, you grabbed one and he let out a cry of delight, jerking his hips up faster until your eyes started to water; it burned but it was a good burn, making Gwil feel this way made you feel good, pleasing him made you feel good. As you squeezed his balls, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, neck craned all the way back over the pillow, his toes curling over the end of the bed. Your own thighs started to shake and your throat tightened around him, and he lost his hand.

"Just like that, yeah."

And with your mouth around him and your fingers gripping his balls, he finished, quicker than you thought; it wasn't even three minutes and you tasted hot thickness, his cum, him. You gagged a little as you removed your lips softly like sucking a lollipop, strings of your saliva dripping from his cock. You gasped and swallowed; you never spat out, it was a rule you gave yourself, what a waste it would be to spit, especially after sucking Gwil off, and speaking of him, his breath was heavy and fast, chest puffing in and out as he came down from his high, eyes glittering and a cheesy grin on his face.

"You're amazing at that."

All you could do was giggle and say, "I know."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

He was buried deep inside your walls, stretching out every inch and corner of you, the strokes of his cock were heavenly, easily hitting your g-spot over and over again. Your legs were wrapped high around his waist, ankles crossed over, nails digging into his back and dragging down his spine, one of his hands gripping the headboard and the other on your thigh, keeping you in place as he fucked you raw.

"Gwil, Gwil...please.." 

"Please what? What do you want?" He grunted between thrusts. Tears burned your lids as your hips smashed with his, lips inches away from his, his warm breath setting your face alight.

"Please...I want to cum, I want us to cum together..."

"Oh fuck.."

The way he moved got harder, faster, more aggressive to the point where your legs were turning into jelly and all you could feel was his stiff cock, you could not even get a proper sentence out anymore, if you did, it was laced with high whines. As his body meshed with your own, your eyes glanced at his arm, where his hand held onto the headboard with so much force you wondered why it hadn't broken. You felt yourself melt into the bed at the sight of his bicep, skin wrapped thin around the muscles, a sheen of sweat coating over his arm, more sweat on his forehead and at the back of his neck, face dipping close to your jaw, the air humid between the two of you.

"I'm gonna cum, shit- but I'm not wear-"

"I'm..on the p-p-pill, cum in me, Gwil." You gripped at him, pulling his chest closer, clenching your cunt around him, desperate for him to finish. The "fucking hell" told you he was only seconds away and sure enough, you felt it, you felt his orgasm, how his cock pulsated inside you, even better inside you than in your mouth and you followed barely a minute after when he was still riding out his high, your back off the bed and your legs trembling around him, harsh scratches left deep in his back because of you. 

Gwil collapsed on top of you, your fingers finding their way into his sweaty hair, as he slowly pulled out of you, the remnants of what you'd just did together dripping down your thigh, something he found extremely attractive. He attached his lips to yours in a passionate sweet kiss, as if you two hadn't just fucked each other's brains out, smiling as he broke the kiss and pressed another to your nose.

"Didn't think this would happen coming here tonight." He guffawed, rolling off you to get comfortable beside you. Like second nature, you curled up into him, your arm draped over his chest and his over your shoulders, sheets askew down to his waist as well as yours; to the both of you, cuddling after sex was as special as the act of sex itself.

"Neither did I...but I like that it happened." You smiled up at him. His fingers stroked your hair, his lips against the top of your head.

"Yeah? Me too."

You and Gwil stayed there, having cuddle time and striking up a conversation about what this meant for your relationship; you liked him and he liked you but for right now, it was agreed upon that the sex was great and that's what it would be, unless deeper feelings crept in. Time was lost, you felt safe with him, his hand in your hair as you traced patterns on his skin, but as much as you loved having this, you knew you couldn't stay here all night.

"We should get back. Everyone will be wondering where we are." You sat up and gathered the sheets up to your chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Gwil joined you and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're right about that, let's go, love." He said, and just as he was about to get out of the bed, there was a knock at the door followed by a very familiar American accent.

"I don't know what's happening in there but if you two are done defiling MY guest bedroom, you'd better come out and watch Ben do Jell-O shots off me." 

You burst out laughing and your head fell into Gwil's neck at Joe's statement, he chuckled along with you and sighed deeply, eyebrows raised; he didn't want to leave this room either, not with having you in the bed, gloriously naked and beautiful. But still, the two of you had to rejoin the party. He kissed your temple and rubbed your shoulder as giggles slipped through your lips, he couldn't help but smile even wider at the sound of your laughter.

"Well well we can't miss that, can we?"

taglist: @rhapsodyrecs​ / @bens-jawline​ / @itsametaphorgwil​ / @queen-paladin​ / @joeneslee​ / @almightygwil​ / @deacyblues​ / @zyanmaik​ / @hermajestyborhap​ / @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ / @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​ / @grigorlee​ / @captvinswaan​ / @taliaphobia​ / @gwil-lee​ / @hannafuckingsucks​ / @benders-diamond-earring​ / @supersonicfreddie​

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

endeavor character thots under the cut because it got really long and i just think his character arc is neat

(also i'm probably not saying anything that everybody doesn't already know but i need to collect my thoughts so here we are)

(spoilers up to ch290)

🔥🔥🔥

like, let me preface this with: yes, enji todoroki is a dickhead

i have very much enjoyed his character arc, but he is a dickhead

i think there’s a lot that goes into his behavior that we know about, and a lot that we don’t know about, but regardless it is my opinion that he is (or at least has been) a massive dickhead who was always way too obsessed with victory and being the best etc. etc. etc. and let it get in the way of him being, like, an actual decent human person. you know, like, the point of being a “hero” in the first place. he lost track of that at some point, WHICH is an excellent reflection of what the ~hero society~ does to warp the idea of heroism in the first place, and i think that was exactly hori’s intention. i mean, the man’s hero name, which we know in canon heroes come up with in their high school years, is fucking endeavor. nothing fire related. just endeavor. holy shit, dude, you have always been incapable of dialing it back, got it.

he is also (as all might pointed out) an excellent reflection of what an older bakugo could have been without intervention by the adults in his life: i.e., he has a rigid moral compass and a “fuck villains” mentality without an ounce of kindness to go with all that altruism, and in endeavor's case that spiraled down and down and down until you get to the shitshow that’s given us the current Keeping Up With The Todorokis story arc. his parallels with bakugo keep going right up to and including, of course, when the change started happening:

but anyway, the point is he lost track of what being a hero is actually supposed to be (if he ever knew in the first place because, again, growing up in this hypercompetitive atmosphere does a number on these heroes, man) and he’s only just starting to get it back now, as he goes through... what i hesitate to even call a redemption arc tbh? the narrative itself is doing nothing to “redeem” him, every action taken here is coming directly from the man himself as he tries to figure out how to do right by his family after all the garbage he put them through, with no thoughts about redeeming himself, which i think is the major factor that had me so on board for him swinging from “abusive shitheel” to “fumbling awkward and still kind-of-a-dick father who’s, like, at least trying to be better.” like, this bit:

THAT'S the good shit

anyway, so like, going back, when we first meet endeavor, we know three things: (1) he’s the number two hero after all might, (2) he essentially “bought” his wife and had several children before the todoroki we all know and love, all in an effort to combine their quirks into someone more powerful than either of them, and (3) todoroki haaates him, for good reason, partly because of the intense training he went through as a kid, but mostly because he views his mother’s deteriorating mental health -- and by extension his scar -- as being endeavor’s fault. that’s it, that’s all we got.

NOW we know a lot more

we know he specifically sought out rei for her ice quirk because his main weakness is overheating, we know he still to this day delivers her favorite flowers to her hospital room on a regular basis, we know he “put her in a hospital” (in the anime, not the manga, which was an excellent misdirection with the wording there BY the way) i.e. he admitted her into a hospital after she deliberately and horrifically injured their son, and we also have a whole lot more context for why rei’s mental health deteriorated so badly up to that point

it was a really cool way to reveal why this family is the way it is, in bits and pieces. you have enji, hyperdetermined to the point of being a dick sometimes (or all the time), who offers this woman a ton of money to marry him and have kids with him so their kids will be stronger than him. you have rei, who agrees, and after they have their first kid -- toya, who doesn’t get the ice quirk and can’t escape overheating -- enji still wants to train him to be the best he can be, and rei wants more kids so they can encourage each other. they love their kids! both of them! they may have even begun to love each other!

and then. aaaaaaand then,

toya burns himself to death (cough cough, allegedly), and it all falls apart. rei loses her firstborn son to the quirk that was passed onto him by the man that she agreed to have kids with, for the express purpose of passing on their quirks. in the beginning we think her disgust with shoto’s fire quirk is because of endeavor, because (and this was the assumption i made) he wasn’t just an emotionally abusive jerk, he was a physically abusive one, fire quirk and all. but it’s not endeavor’s quirk she’s disgusted by, it’s toya’s. she’s looking at her youngest son and seeing the power that gruesomely killed her oldest, and something breaks. she has a psychotic meltdown and dumps boiling water on her kid’s head, and she gets sent off to a mental hospital, for good reason.

i don’t know, man. i just. LOVE how much the extra context gives to all of these characters.

but yeah, so toya’s death sent rei into that downward spiral, and at the same time it took endeavor’s already kind of too-gung-ho attitude and dialed that shit to 11 because he needed to throw himself into something and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let that happen to another one of his kids, hence: way too much training for poor little shoto. and he doesn’t even see it as a bad thing? what he’s doing to his kids? it feels like a necessary evil and he’s more or less at peace with it.

but then all this kids are almost grown, and shoto hates him to the point that he only began using his fire quirk, like, this year, and natsuo fucking despises him and says it'll be a cold day in hell before he forgives him, and fuyumi’s the only kid left that even wants to begin to give him a chance. he’s the number one hero and it literally does not matter, it changes nothing. shoto’s constantly in danger because he wants to be a hero, natsuo almost dies because some villain comes after them with the intention of hurting endeavor, and fuyumi’s miserable because their family is cracked apart, and like... shit, dude. the fact that enji turns around and decides, “they all deserve to be a family together, they deserve to be happy together, fuyumi deserves to have the happy family she wants to have, and if the only way that’s going to happen is without me, then that’s just how it’ll have to be,” is phenomenal

he is fully willing to remove himself from the picture if that’s what it takes to make his wife and kids happy! if that’s what it takes to give them some peace! holy shit. this is the polar opposite of how he has viewed heroism for his entire life up until that point

this? this is not flashy showbiz-worthy fights and villain beatdowns and glory, minus genuine altruism

this is genuine altruism, minus the flashy showbiz-worthy fights and villain beatdowns and glory

and the fact that it’s just, like... ah, yes, watch endeavor slowly and fumblingly trying to right his wrongs and be a better person, how lovely, surely nothing will happen to completely derail this and oh wait what’s that HERE COMES DABI WITH A STEEL CHAIR--

just. hoo buddy. brain full, many thoughts about enji todoroki today lads, VERY interested and very frightened to see how the aftermath of the dabi reveal hits everyone in this family. it's...... a Lot