#DARK CURLY HAIRED BOYS WHO REALLY DID!

[entitled-fangirl]

A second wife and a poet.

Cregan Stark x second wife! Blackwood!reader

Summary: The North pressured Cregan to marry again. He hates the thought of it, but at least the reader is someone he's comfortable with.

Warnings: mentions of death, fighting, battles, arguing, cursing, smut (p in v), and all that other stuff

A/n: Based on an ask sort of! This thing is so long I'm so sorry😭

Masterlist

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Cregan did not wish to marry again. The thought terrified him.

But he understood that his wishes were not taken into account when he was born with the Stark name.

Now, he nervously stood outside of the Winterfell walls, awaiting the young woman that would become his second wife. 

Lord Samwell Blackwood's only daughter. 

Cregan was not a religious man, but he prayed that this marriage would be better.

It would help further the alliance. That's what he told himself. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat as her carriage came to a halt. 

She stepped out.

She was different than what Cregan had remembered.

The Blackwood hair was obvious, the dark curly locks running down her shoulders effortlessly. He'd seen that same shade atop of Benjicot's head. 

But the manner in which she carried herself was different. Very… un-Blackwood like.

She was nervous.

He'd never seen any of the Blackwoods ever hold an inkling of doubt to them. It was a strange sight.

Not that he could blame her.

She curtsied out of politeness, keeping her head down.

He shook his head, "Y/n."

Her head shot up to look at him. To really look at him.

She remembered him visiting Raventree Hall in their youth. Cregan had found a friendship in her brother, Benjicot, as did their fathers.

This had prompted lots of visits in the past.

Until Rickon Stark died and Cregan took the mantle his father left behind. He was only thirteen.

Now in his twenties, the permanent exhaustion shown in his eyes. The years had been hard to him.

He was nothing like the young boy that had once sparred with her brother.

"Cregan," she greeted back.

Their eyes met.

It was awkward. What do you say to someone you know and yet, don't know at all? Especially when both sides had endured such grief.

"Did-"

"I heard-"

They both stopped, not intending to interrupt one another. 

"Please," Cregan gestured.

"No, I insist that you do."

An unsure breath escaped him. "Did Benji not accompany you?"

It was strange to hear the formidable Lord of Winterfell still refer to her brother as "Benji" as if they were kids again.

"No," she swallowed. "He had… more pressing matters to attend to. I hope you understand."

"Of course," he offered. "I was saddened, you know. To hear of the loss of your father."

The Battle at the Burning Mill had left her father, Samwell, and her cousin, Davos, dead in the dirt alongside many other men who fought by their side. It was a victory, but with victory came loss.

"As I, with your wife, I mean."

He nodded. "Thank you."

Silence swallowed them whole, both at a loss of what else they could possibly say to ease the other.

He took the time to study her, making a note of the way she tapped the tips of each finger to her thumb. A nervous tick, he made a note of. Benji did the same when he grew angry.

"Did your journey fair well-"

"-Yes," she quickly answered.

They both cursed inwardly.

"Right. Perhaps I should show you… Indoors?" He asked awkwardly.

She nodded. "Yes, yes of course."

…

She sat at the desk, laying her head down onto the wooden surface. 

Judging by the way Cregan had only lingered in the doorway before, she had guessed that he hadn't entered the room since the passing of his wife.

Everything in it had remained the same. 

It felt wrong. Like an invasion of privacy to open her own closet and see another woman's dresses in it.

"Shall I get these out for you, my lady?" Her handmaiden tried to ease.

"Leave them," she muttered. "I'll get them out when I'm ready."

"And when will that be?"

She sighed in defeat. "I dunno."

…

What a lousy first impression.

Cregan felt like punching a wall.

What an idiot.

Perhaps he was destined to always have a wife estranged to him. For that's how this one had begun.

It should've been easy. It was Benji's sister, for fuck's sake.

He tried to rack his mind of memories of his time in Raventree Hall. He was a much younger soul then and the memories of it had faded significantly with time.

But he did remember her faintly.

She was always around, but she never bothered them. Never spoke up. She always was somewhere near with a book or a thread and needle. 

He just remembered the essence of her, but that was enough.

And the thought that war had broken the siblings up put an ache in Cregan's heart. He knew she'd be safe with him, but still. Benjicot couldn't even leave his duties long enough for a wedding ceremony. And she had just… accepted that.

This was his second chance. 

He had to do better.

…

At dinner, he tried to ease the tension. 

He cleared his throat, "You can write to your brother. If you wish, that is."

She set her spoon down gently and folded her hands into her lap. "That's kind. It would ease his mind to know I made my journey safely."

He grunted and took another sip of his broth. He tried to think of anything else. 

But she spoke up again, "I was waiting to ask but… perhaps I should just ask."

He tilted his head down, "Yes?"

"Your son… he lived, didn't he?"

He could tell she shook a little as she asked. "He did. He eats in his room."

"Oh." 

"Did you… Did you want to meet him?"

She pauses and a genuine smile breaks out on her face. "I'd be hard to be Lady Stark if I didn't."

He hangs his head in mock shame and he chuckles. "Right. That was foolish of me to ask."

"No, I understand." She shifted in her seat. "You're hesitant to replace his mother. You don't have to explain that to me."

"It's not that," he countered. "Well, not exactly. It's confusing."

"Alright?"

"My…" he paused. "Arra was one of my greatest friends in this world. But she was no wife. Our friendship grew to duty, and the love we shared for other another faded quickly. We seemed to argue more than we got along towards the end. It was… disheartening."

"I see."

He looked up at her and pushed himself to continue. "I fear you and I are not an even match."

A sudden jolt was felt in the pit of her stomach. "What?"

His eyes widened as he realized his choice of words, "No. No. I just meant… gods." He rubbed his forehead. "I have… experienced all the wonders of a man and wife already and you have not." Cregan looked around in thought. "Just seems unfair to you. In many ways."

She considered his words. He was right, she couldn't deny that. "Do you believe my brother had any doubt in this betrothal?"

Cregan's brows came together in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Everyone thought him so eager to sign me away, but that's anything but the truth. He knows you, Cregan. If it were any other man wishing for my hand, he would have denied it. Not you."

That brought an unusual warmth to his chest. "Why?"

The ends of her lips quirked up into a smile. "He said he'd never seen an equal opponent such as you. And only an equal opponent would be worthy of something so precious to him."

"Do you agree with him?" Cregan's voice whispered.

"I'm starting to."

The silence that had once been full of tension began to ease into one of comfort. 

"All in your family are true warriors as well, my lady. Only a fool would deny that. Especially your father and… and your cousin, you said?"

She nodded, "Yes, yes, my cousin, Davos. Hard to think that we've considered the battle a victory with such a devastating loss."

He hummed, his interest shifting when speaking of something he may have insight on: war. "The Brackens lost family alike."

She scoffed. "All for a few more feet of territory? For stones?"

"Careful," he warned. "They didn't fight for stones. You're smarter than that. What did they fight for? Truly?"

She thought about it carefully before giving in to what answer she knew he was looking for. "Power."

"Exactly. Your father died for the chance of future Blackwoods gaining greater power. That's much nobler a death than stones, don't you think?"

"He died for Benjicot, then?"

"And you," he offered.

That struck a nerve in her. "Then why do I sit safely behind the walls of Winterfell when I should be fighting by my brother's side for future Blackwoods?"

There it was.

He knew she'd have Blackwood fire in there somewhere.

He only had to light it.

"Do you want to wage wars, sweet girl?"

"No," she countered. "But if it must be done."

"Spoken like a true noble," he chuckled. "It's not nearly the same, I know, but the Stark forces may appreciate your support. If you'll bless us with it."

She looked confused. 

"Please tell me you wish to become a Stark. I cannot bare to think I'm forcing you into a marriage you'll be unhappy in. I've done it before and I won't do it again."

She felt a twist in her stomach at the tough man's voice faltering. She breathed in sharply, "I… I think I do."

Cregan couldn't accept that. "Please," he urged her to continue.

"I… I've been caught on the idea of younger you." She tilted her head to the side in thought as she stared at her bowl. "I'd happily marry my brother's best friend. But… the Lord of Winterfell? I dunno."

"He is one and the same," he protested.

"Is he?"

Cregan had never been rendered speechless in his life, yet there was a first for everything.

She let the silence set before speaking up, "Cregan was a boy with the very essence of life in him. I always thought he'd become a brave knight. He had a fire to him that you so rarely see. But Lord Stark? He has duty written into his very skin. The fire seems to have been tamed by sacrifice. He doesn't want a second wife. Nor do I blame him."

"I never said that!"

"You and I both know if Arra had birthed you one more heir, you wouldn't marry again at all."

"Stop." He commanded.

She faltered, pausing her words at his tone.

"It is true that I marry out of pure encouragement from my council. But that does not mean the end of our friendship. Please don't let it be."

"Cregan, you and I were never friends. You marry me with the memories of friendship you have with my brother. You know I am not him."

"I do!" He yelled. He softened. "I do. You're not like him at all."

That weighed on the two of them like bricks. 

She stared down at her bowl again. "I wish you'd have known my cousin, Davos, closely. My father used to say that the gods placed twins in separate wombs to keep us from ending the world." She laughed lightly, "He and I were inseparable."

"I heard Lord Davos only loved sparring and getting into trouble."

"Do you believe he only managed trouble on his own?" She questioned. "He was fiery on his own, yes, but I only encouraged it. I should have been there. At the border. I could've… I could've kept the battle from starting."

Cregan scoffed lightly, "There was no way to keep an inevitable battle from beginning."

"But I might have prolonged it all further," she tried. "Kept the tension just a while longer."

"Until what? Until it is your brother losing his head? Or worse, you?"

"Yes."

She wasn't that nervous girl from before. No. She was indeed a Blackwood. There was no question about that.

He sighed and clenched his fist. "We wed tomorrow. I'd rather my betrothed sleep well tonight with hopeful wishes rather than regrets and guilt."

She stood. "Maybe you're marrying the wrong woman then."

He watched her walk out, completely stunned.

It reminded him too much of Arra.

…

The tension hadn't relieved itself if the glare in Cregan's eyes were any indicator.

It was a steady glare. More one that seemed to study her, trying to figure out what makes her tick. 

Seems she was the very thing that made him tick.

She had glared back at the beginning of the ceremony, insistent on giving back every look that was sent her way, but slowly, that had changed to something else.

Her nerves returned.

He didn't notice at first, but he saw the way her hand shook so violently she almost didn't get the cup to her lips without spilling the liquid inside.

He was wracked with guilt.

He had once again forced a woman to "love" him.

"I've called off the bedding ceremony," he spoke lowly. "If that's any help."

"It's not."

He was shocked by the way she had so easily pushed away his attempt to ease her. Like she'd kicked the last leg Cregan was standing on. 

"Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. We're going."

She stared in shock. "Cregan, forgive me. I was-"

"C'mon. I'm firm on this."

When she didn't move, he grabbed her by her bicep, yanking her up and beginning to pull her through the dining hall. Both ignored the cheers and chants of what the people believed would happen in the couple's private chambers.

Once dragged to his room, she pulled her arms from his vice grip and smoothed out her dress. "Is that what you wanted? A newly wedded wife in tears? Because you're awfully close to it, Lord Stark."

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse."

"What?"

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight. I refuse." He repeated with more force. He ran a hand through his hair. 

She shrugged off his cloak that he had placed on her during the ceremony and threw it aside. "You won't even let me perform my duties because you don't want to fulfill yours?"

"Y/n," he warned. "That's not how I meant it."

"I can't read you. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Gods, you're insufferable."

"-and you're blind."

"Oh! Enlighten me, then, oh great Lord Stark."

"I loved you. I still do."

She spun around to face him.

Cregan stood firmly. His eyes spoke more than his words did. He was insistent on having her trust him. 

"I don't believe that," she scoffed.

"Oh really?" He walked to his bureau and pulled out a small wooden box. He threw it onto the bed. "Have a look for yourself."

She looked him up and down before hesitantly walking over to the box. Sitting next to it, she pulled it open and examined the contents. 

Letters.

"What is this?"

"Every letter I tried to write to you the day I became the Lord of Winterfell. I had… foolish dreams of maybe having you as a wife. I was only a boy then."

She sat straight. "Why keep them?"

He shrugged. "I'm sentimental, I suppose. I had tried to burn them- many times, in all honestly. Couldn't bring myself to do it."

"May I?"

He nodded, anxiety filling his gut. 

Her nimble fingers picked up the letter that sat on top.

"There's a few others in there," he informed her as he sat on the other side of the bed. "All regarding you, of course. Letters to your brother, your father, you know."

She unraveled the latter despite shaky fingers. 

My loyalist friend Benjicot, I heard of the passing of your father. You have my deepest condolences. I understand all too well the feelings of honor and duty that have now been placed on your shoulders despite the grief that already weighs them down.  Regarding your sister, perhaps she may find a home in Wint

The letter stopped there, and she looked up at him.

"Some are… more recent, actually."

She nodded. "I see that."

He leaned to her, reading the letter with a light blush. "I'm not very well-spoken in writing, so I make lots of drafts."

"And they're all here?"

"Yes. Yes, all of them." He tapped the side of the box with his large hand. "Well, most of them."

She decided not to press the matter, placing the letter back and picking up an older one from deeper in the box.

This one had much sloppier handwriting, the page evidently aged.

Lady Blackwood, As the Leader of the North, I want you and Benji to visit as often as possible. I might be a lord, but I will always have time for the Blackwoods. Perhaps I can even teach you archery like you have so desperately wanted. Everyone knows I'm better at it than Benji is. Cregan

"Why did you never send them?"

He scoffed. "Read that again and tell me that was ever appropriate to send as the Warden of the North."

"You were a child then, as was I. It's in good favor."

"It's unbecoming of a cold northern lord, though." He reached out to take the letter from her but she held it out of his reach.

"Only yesterday, you told me this boy and the man in front of me were one and the same."

"And they are," he urged.

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"It's not!"

"Prove it."

He stared with an unreadable expression. 

She was insufferable, stubborn, witty, gracious, giving, honest…

He crashed his lips onto hers.

She let out a small yelp in surprise, but just as quickly melted into him, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm.

"This," she panted again his lips. "This is a bad idea."

He kissed her again, then pulled away just enough to speak, pressing his forehead to hers. "What is?" 

"Loving each other."

He grinned. "I don't care."

She groaned and moved back to him, capturing his lips again. 

He pushed her onto the bed, throwing the wooden box onto the ground with a loud crash before getting on top of her. 

She tried to sit up at the sound, breaking away from him for only a moment, "you could've torn them."

"Why does it matter?"

"I want to save them."

He chuckled, "Lovely woman, you'd rather save scraps of paper from a man's youth than indulge in your desires with the very man that wrote them?"

She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as Cregan's thumb brushed over her cheek. "I never said that."

Cregan tilted his head in teasing disbelief. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want-" she paused. What did she want? Mere moments ago, she wanted to return to Raventree Hall and be rid of the northerner. Now, she wanted to bask in anything that he gave her. "I want Arra's dresses out of my wardrobe."

Cregan blinked, clearly taken out of the moment. He sat up. "What?"

She sat up with him. "You may keep them if you wish, but I'm tired of the reminder of her presence every morning, noon, and night."

"Consider it done," he urged. "I'll have them moved immediately. Any of it you want will be gone within the hour."

"No, I don't-" she sighed. "I don't want her gone, per se. She was a part of you, and therefore a part of us. She's given you a son. To rid Rickon of his mother's memory and you of your first wife should be considered a crime."

"But if I live in the past, I can't enjoy what's in front of me."

"Aye, but you're not doing that," she grinned. "You've got a pretty girl in your bed. Seems like you're enjoying the present."

He didn't grin back, only sighing softly and nodding. "I hope you do forgive me. For forcing this."

"Cregan, you did not force it. Benji gave me a choice." When he gawked at her, she continued. "He encouraged me to accept, yes. But he did not force my hand. I wanted to do this. I wanted to marry you."

"You wanted to please your brother and I or you wanted to be Lady Stark?" He questioned.

"I wanted to be the wife of the man I once knew when he was a boy."

He accepted her answer happily, kissing her once again. This time, it was soft and careful.

She reached her hands up into his hair, tugging delicately at the dark strands. His breath hitched and he brought one of his own hands up as well. His hand gripped over hers. He pulled his hand into a fist, forcing hers as well, and encouraged her to tug harshly on his hair. She took the encouragement, beginning to yank. 

He felt a shiver go down his spine and his mouth opened in a moan. She grinned and took that as an invitation to kiss down his jaw. He tilted his head up to give her room to do so.

"I… I lied," he whispered as his hands roamed over his waist. "I think I do want you tonight."

She nipped at a spot under his neck. "I think I want you too."

He grunted at that and pulled her away from him. "Tell me what you want. Truly."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, "I've had a first wedding night. I want you to have yours the way you want it."

"I… I don't know what I want."

He absentmindedly rubbed at her hip. "Then perhaps we'll try things until you decide."

She nodded. "Th…things? There are multiple things to do?"

He pulled her head back a bit by her hair and kissed her pulse point. "Many."

"But how…"

He couldn't lie and say he hadn't been yearning for some kind of release these last few years. Between Arra's pregnancy, the birth, and the years after her death, Cregan had not laid with another woman. He found himself yearning desperately for touch, of any sort really.

And how lucky was he that hers was so soft. 

He pushed her down on the bed softly. "Trust me?"

"In every lifetime."

Overcome with lust, he pressed his lips to hers again, starting back up the heat in their stomachs that they had played with so eagerly. 

Cregan reached up the tunic on his back, pulling it over his head. He tried to connect their lips again but she kept him from doing so.

She trailed a hand down his shoulder and to his bicep, taking in the sight of his bare torso. Her fingers paused at the feeling of a scar on his arm. Her fingers faltered. 

"It's a rather nasty scar," he whispered.

"My brother gave it to you."

"Aye," His eyes lit up. "He pushed me into a stream and-"

"-and you fell on a rock. I remember my father being so angry with him."

He kissed her yet again, and the two continued as before with a deeper connection than they had thought.

He pulled her skirt up with one hand and caressed the inside of her thigh. 

She jerked at the feeling in uncertainty. "What d-"

"Just tell me how it feels, alright?"

When she nodded, he spoke again, "Sit up for me. We'll get this dress off of you."

…

"Cre… Cregan…"

"I know. You're doing good," he panted into her ear. 

"I… there's… a feeling…"

"I know. I know, it's alright."

He pushed down on her stomach as he thrusted deeper into her, making her moan and tears pull at her eyes. 

"Give in to it. It's okay."

"I can't… I… I'm scared…" she sobbed lightly.

The hand on her stomach moved around her body, arching her back up to him. He held her closely against him in an attempt to comfort her. "I've got you." He placed open mouth kisses on her neck.

She scratched at his back harshly as she reached her peak. A whine left her lips.

"I've got you," he panted as his hips slowed when his peak neared. "I've got you."

She felt overstimulated and exhaustion filled her body. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Just a moment.

…

She woke up to the feeling of sunlight on her skin. Her eyes creaked open.

She groaned at the ache between her legs, a slight shake in the muscles of her legs. 

But what caught her attention was the tray that laid on the other side of the bed. A full breakfast sat where Cregan had supposedly once laid. 

She sat up and picked up the note that lay on the tray. 

My beautiful wife,  I hope you'll take the words of a poorly worded poet to heart, for this is a letter that I finally am sending you. No more drafts hidden in boxes and no secrets to keep. My first draft shall always be my last when addressed to you. I dare say I despise arguments. I'm not as highly tempered as your brother, and I find that I don't run hot. I suppose that it's the chill of the North that has done that. Regardless, may this be our last fight for a long while. I have had Arra's clothing removed from all closets, and the traces of her are now few. Her portrait stays in the library and her remains in the crypts, but the greatest things she left behind were my boy and a gash in my heart. I believe you'll care for both of those things greatly.  But you'll not live in that room. You'll find your dresses in my wardrobe now. I don't believe I can part from you for too long now that I have you. This will be my first and last letter to you, for now you'll hear everything from my lips alone.  But I thought you deserved at least one letter after all these years. Your Cregan

"I told them to fetch me when you woke up," he commented from the doorway.

She gasped at his sudden appearance, "Good morning."

"It's after high noon, I dare say."

"Is it?" She looked at the window. "I'm sorry. It was not my intention to-"

"-Are you alright?" He interrupted.

Her brows furrowed. "I'm fine."

"I've never had a woman succumb to sleep like you did. Felt I did something wrong." He rubbed at his shoulder anxiously.

"No, it felt… it felt good. Quite good," she nodded. She took into account that she was still naked in his bed, but she was rather clean. "Did you…"

He flushed. "Oh. Um.. no. No, I didn't. Don't worry."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's not that I didn't want to," he tried to explain then backtracked. "I mean… you fell asleep and once I knew you were alright, I um… I couldn't do that to you."

"That's," she hummed. "That's noble of you."

He chuckled. "It's the least I could do for you. And the note?" He asked to change the subject.

She held it up and reread it. "Thank you. For… all of it."

He stepped to the side and kissed her head, "Anything for my beautiful wife."

"And you, my poet, Lord Stark."

He gripped her chin and forced her head up to look at him. "Don't let the others know," he teased.

"I dare not. This is something I want all to myself."

"Then you have me- heart, mind, and body."

.......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867

[lewisvinga]

Dios mío! | toto wolff x latina! reader x susie wolff !

summary; in which the young single mother of one of jack’s friends catches the attention of toto and susie

warnings; age gap

word count; 1.05k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote

note; requested ! my fave dilf n milf tbh , my requests are CLOSED ATM!!!

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Santiago! Adónde vas?” [where are you going?]

Y/n sighed as she followed the tan, curly-haired boy who just laughed in response. She held onto her bag in one hand and his helmet in the other as she ran after him. She huffed as she noticed other parents stare at her chasing her son around the track.

“Santiago! Ya vas a ver.” [you’ll see]

Santiago finally stops in front of another boy with brown hair. He greeted the young boy and the two immediately started conversing about whatever they usually chatted about.

Y/n finally caught up to her son and was completely out of breath. She bent down and grabbed Santiago’s arm. “Santiago, what did we talk about?”

“Stay by Mamás side.” The curly-haired boy mumbled.

“Exacto!” [exactly]

“But I wanted to see my friend Jack!”

“I know you’re excited, papito, but that doesn’t mean you can run off on your own. I don’t want you getting lost.”

Y/n sighed as she stood back up, finally realizing that Santiago’s friend and his parents were in front of them. Her face started to heat up from embarrassment. She let out a nervous chuckle as she brushed off her jeans. “I’m so sorry about Santiago.”

She finally got to take a closer look at Jack’s parents. They both seemed older compared to Y/n who had Santiago as a teenager. Jack’s father was tall, way taller than her or his mother. He had black frames and a smirk adorning his face.

Jack’s mother was shorter but seemed to have a strong aura. Her hair was short and blonde. The smile she wore matched her husband's. Both combined emitted an aura that Y/n couldn’t help but feel attracted to.

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it.” The blonde exclaims with a laugh. “Jack always talks about him.”

“Where are my manners?” Y/n suddenly gasped as she flattened her baby hairs that escaped from her ponytail. She holds her hand out with a smile, “I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.”

Jack's mother flashes her a smile before quickly shaking her hand. “Susie.”

Her husband was quick to shake Y/n’s hand after, the smile still evident on his lips. “Toto Wolff. Your son seems amazing, Jack is always talking about his best friend Santiago.”

Y/n lets out a laugh as she gently pats Santiago’s dark curls. “He’s the only one I got here. My family is back home in Latin America, so I always try to raise my boy the best I can.”

Susie nods sympathetically before her head tilts to the side out of curiosity. “And his father? Does he help?”

Y/n let out a disappointed sigh. “Nope. It’s just me and Santi in this world.” She chuckled and shrugged, “It’s better off just us two.” Her confirmation that she was indeed single made the married couple share a glance.

They’ve seen her several times at Jack’s school before while picking up Santiago. They never got a clear look at her until right before one of Jack’s races where her son ran up to their son. She caught their attention immediately, especially with the way she seemed so careful of Santiago.

Toto and Susie had shared multiple knowing looks while the young mother was talking to her son just moments earlier. They were attracted to her no doubt.

“Mamá,” Santiago’s soft voice interrupted them. He stared at Toto with wide eyes. “He’s the team principal of Mercedes.” He thought he was whispering but in fact, he was talking really loud.

His failed attempt at whispering caused Toto to let out a deep laugh, his hand ruffling up the boys’ curls. “Indeed I am, Santiago.”

At the realization, Y/n let out a gasp. She wasn’t into Formula One but he son was. She often spent Sundays making carne asada and watching races with Santiago even if she wasn’t interested. She had only seen Toto and Susie on screen once or twice, but she failed to recognize them until her son mentioned it.

“My abuelo [grandpa] likes Mercedes! He says I'm gonna be like Lewis!” The young boy continued to rant as Y/n watched, furrowing up her eyebrows.

“Dios mío, [my God] I didn’t realize at all.” She sighed with wide eyes. She had an apologetic smile as her hands rested on her son's shoulders. “Sorry, didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Toto interrupted her, waving his hand around as he turned to Santiago. “When you’re old enough, tell your pretty mamá to give me a call, hm? Maybe you and Jack can be teammates.”

Ar the mention of being teammates with his best friend, Santiago let out a cheer as the youngest Wolff followed him in cheer. The sudden compliment caused Y/n’s cheeks to turn a light shade of pink.

“I-uh-,” She coughed to clear her throat, “We have to go. Gotta make sure Santiago is all prepared before the race, right?” She chuckled, watching the curly-haired boy chat away with Jack.

“Hey, Y/n, wait.” Susie quickly said before the young mother could leave. Y/n hums in response as the blonde glances at her husband and back at her. “Are you busy tonight?”

“After the race? No.” Y/n replied, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “Was just gonna order takeout for Santi and me. Why?”

“Come over for dinner at ours.” Toto quickly offered. His offer made her raise her eyebrows in shock as their two sons looked up excitedly.

“A gorgeous lady like you shouldn’t be alone. Come by ours, yeah?” Susie said with a smile, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded in agreement, keeping her eyes on Susie and Toto. “Y-yeah! That sounds amazing.“ She reached into her bag and found a pen and a random piece of paper. She scribbled her number down quickly before handing it to the blonde.

“Just call me. I’ll be there.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely call,” Toto said, another smirk appearing on his lips as he looked over Susie’s shoulder at the paper.

Y/n shared another smile with them before grabbing Santiago. The two quickly said goodbye before walking off to prepare the young boy for his race. In reality, she was also preparing herself for dinner with the attractive older couple she just met at her son's karting race. She mumbled to herself, “Ay Dios mío.” [oh my God]

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[zvdvdlvr]

— Morning Smoke

💜 — Synopsis. You knew you had a thing for the one person who had a clear distaste towards you. But maybe having a wet dream about him- while sleeping in the same room as him- was probably a good thing.

💜 — Warnings. Rushed writing. Unedited. Dry humping. Clothed grinding. Reader and Spencer smoke cigarettes.

One year, eleven months, and six days. Thats how long you’d been working for the BAU catching serial killers, bombers, and rapists by observing every detail if their crime. You’re a valuable asset to the team, your brain working on the same page as the rest of the team with just a different design. 

During your time at the BAU, you recieved many titles. Caffeine fiend(Aaron), best friend(Penny), mama (Derek), and idiot- affectionately- (Emily). The only person that hadn’t called you anything other than your first or last name, or agent was Spencer Reid.

There was a barrier between the two of you- unspoken, of course, but there was just some kind of wall seperating you from him. You didn’t blame Spencer for keeping you at at arm’s length: you were just some new agent who would eventually transfer. Admittedly, it hurt when Spencer politely uninvited himself from the activities you went along with. And it felt like a gut punch when Spencer chose the farthest seat from you on the jet and chose to move away from you while giving profiles to the police. But you figured he had his reasons.

“Y/n,” Emily murmured, nudging your arm. You looked up, bleary eyes focussing on the dark haired woman in front of you. You blinked.

“What’s- hey!” You cried out indignantly as Emily snatched the cold cup if coffee you had started to reach for. “Emily.”

“It’s time to go back to the hotel. Hotch’s orders,” the dark haired woman said, nodding to the team behind you.

You nodded. “Okay.” You stood up and hastily tucked papers into the manilla folder you were working on. “I’m ready.”

“Put those files down, y/n,” Hotch commanded, raising a tired eyebrow in your direction. “If I’m tired, you have to be a dead woman walking.”

You put the file down and pulled your coat on without protest. You’d only actually seen Hotch exhausted a handful of times. And Hotch was right: you did feel like you were about to fall over. Maybe having an iron deficiency and drinking coffee off an empty stomach wasn’t a very pleasant experience…

The ride to the hotel was over in a blink of an eye- a really ling blink apparently. You hadn’t even known you had reached the hotel until the inevitable and only boy genius Spencer Reid shook your shoulder gently to wake you up. Truly, you thought you were dreaming when you opened your eyes and Spencer’s face surrounded by a mat of curly hair greated you. His furrowd eyebrows relaxed when you looked around.

“Let’s go, l/n. You’re rooming with me,” Spencer told you after locking the car.

If you were in the right state of mind, you probably would have bent over giggling from the way Spencer put his arm around you as he led you into the building. But you weren’t so you just rested your head in the juncture if his shoulder and neck. He smelled good for someone who’d been awake for God knows how long. If you concentrated you thought you could feel the heat of his palm around you, moving in teeny tiny circles.

By the time you reached the bedroom you were practically unconscious in Spencer’s arms, yours and his go-bag around Spencer’s other arm. Spencer gently set you down on the bed closest to the door and put your go-bag in the bed beside you. “You should probably get changed, but I know how tired you are. I’ll shower tonight so you can shower tomorrow,” he explained, brushing a baby hair out of your line of sight. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, Spence,” you mumbled, eyes caught in the way Spencer’s lips moved and twitched. He was an expressive man when he was tired, and you caught the rare smile that graced his lips.

You hoped you would remember the blush on his cheekbones that matched the color of his lips when you woke up the next morning.

Birds chirped. The bright sun shone through the blinds of your home, patterning your room with strips of orangey-yellow. You turned over and saw him.

“Hey, you,” Spencer greeted. His hand came to rest gently on your cheek and pull you up to his pink lips. Your leg fluidly moved to straddle Spencer’s right leg.

Breathlessly you muttered a “good morning” before your hand tangled in Spencer’s curly hair, tugging his head down to meet your desperate kisses.

Spencer moved his thigh up to rub harshly on your core. You gasped sharply and ground down to meet Spencer’s thigh. “Oh fuck,” you whispered, watching Spencer’s back arch as you palmed the massive tent in his pants.

A strangled cry left your lips when Spencer’s massive hands fell onto your hips and controlled your movements. “That’s my girl,” Spencer growled, your hands feeling up Spencer’s chest and tracing the curves and lines of his neck. As your orgasm approached, your hands grasped Spencer’s face and harshly pulled him into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n,” Spencer murmured, voice low.

“Fuck,” you cursed. “Jus’ like that,” you slurred.

“Y/n,” Spencer repeated, one hand sliding up to your shoulder.

Your jaw clenched and your hips jerked violently.

“Y/n.”

You shot up in bed, sweat soaking your forhead and hair. You looked around wildly, chest heaving. 

In front of you sat Spencer Walter Reid, eyes beady with sleep. “Are you okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare-?”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m- yeah I’m alright. I just-“ you exhaled. “Go back to bed, Reid, I’m alright.”

“A-Are you sure?”

You wanted to groan. The ruins of a spoiled orgasm simmered away in your blood. “Yes. I just- Yeah it was a nightmare. I’m gonna- go get ready.”

“L/n, it is 4 o’clock in the morning.”

You thanked the dark lighting for concealing the dark patch of your pants due to your arousal. “It’s- Please go back to bed.”

“Talk to me,” Spencer pleaded, grabbing your hand.

“It’s nothing, Reid. There’s nothing to talk about. Go to bed.”

“It’s a proven fact that people who discuss their nightmares with someone increase their happiness and healing process by more than 50%,” Spencer rushed.

“Reid it’s embarrassing. I can’t-“ you shook your head. “I’ll- please, Reid.”

The moonlight glinted in his eyes as he searched you for answers he knew you wouldn’t give him. “Are you- y/n. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. Your thighs burned- you must have been humping the blanket between your thighs. “Reid, you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

You threw your hands up. “I know you don’t like me, Reid. It’s kind of obvious, so I’m just saying that you don’t need to have a therapy session because we’re rooming together.”

Spencer genuinely looked offended. “I don’t hate you,” he murmured. “I never have.”

You scoffed and stood up, dream completely forgotten. “Could have fooled me, Reid. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left Spencer on your bed, bringing your go-bag to the tiny bathroom.

— 💜

After scrubbing you skin raw you finally exited the shower and pulled your hair into a braided updo before pulling on some clean clothes.

The sky was still dark when you exited the hotel, cigarette box in hand.

You sat in the ground, smart enough to know not to willingly wander too far outside of the vicinity of the rest of the team while at an unfamiliar location. “Goddamnit,” you murmured, lighting up a cigarette and watching the sun start to stain the concrete.

Visions of dead bodies filled your mind. Empty coffee cups getting tossed into a trash can, bloodstained hands as you ushered a victim away from the unsub, the ringing in your ears after an SUV blew up near you. When you joined the BAU you hadn’t known that every day you looked into the eyes of those possessed by evil, you would lose a part of your soul trying to save each and every person you saw.

But the team had it’s pros. A group of people you mostly called family, good pay, paid sick leave, mostly free flights, a badass title, and introduction to some very fine specimens (read: Spencer Walter Reid).

Speaking of Spencer, you were thinking of the conversation you both had. ‘I don’t hate you. I never have’. You snorted and lit another cigarette, holding the smoke in your lungs until familiar white spots danced in your vision.

“Y/n.”

You looked up. Spencer stood near you, hands fidgeting. You could see his eyes avoiding yours and suddenly you felt like laughing. After all of this time thinking one of the hottest people you’d ever met hated you, he was standing- nervous- in front of you. “Yeah?”

Spencer sat beside you. “Didn’t know you smoked,” he tried, looking towards the rising sun.

“You refused to make comversation with me for about a month when I started,” you said lowly. When Spencer sighed beside you, you added “I don’t normally. Just when… things happen.”

Spencer nodded. “Oh.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you exhaled. You offered the cigarette to Spencer, raising an eyebrow when he accepted.

“I want to talk to you,” Soencer said finally, snuffing out the cigarette.

You lit another one. “So talk.”

“Well, I… I’m sorry.”

When Spencer didn’t say anything for another few seconds, you turned to him. “Is that all?”

Spencer dropped his head into his hands. “Look, I knew I was keeping you at arm’s length. I thought… I thought keeping you away would make sure that I didn’t…” Spencer sighed.

“Reid, I need tou to really spell it out for me. I can’t keep dancing around your riddles,” you said, facing the sun.

“I love you, y/n. I thought that if I didn’t talk to you, let these feelings grow… Maybe I could harbor my attraction to you.” 

You felt your heart skip in your chest.  “You didn’t consider telling me this? What if I felt the same?”

Spencer looked at you, a confused look in his eyes. “You didn’t like me like that and I couldn’t force you to love me too. You’re way too good for me anyway.”

“I do,” you reply, nodding. “And I’m not too good for you, Spencer. If anything, you should find better than me.”

Prolonged eye contact and silence fell over the both of you.

“Ask me now, Spencer. Make up for lost time.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Spencer lips at your request. “Do you like me like I like you, y/n?”

You nodded, mirroring Spencer’s smile. “I do like you the way you like me, Spencer.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Spencer asked immediately, eyes dropping to your lips.

You closed the distance between the two of you, hand sliding up the nape of Spencer’s neck to tangle in his curls. Spencer’s lips were skilled, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“So, about that dream I had earlier,” you started.

A sly smirk replaced the smile on Spencer’s face. “I knew what you were dreaming about, I just couldn’t stand listen to you knowing how weird it would be for me to face you at work the next morning.”

You felt your face warm up at Spencer’s words. “Oh. Well. Sorry for waking you up, then.”

Spencer just shrugged. “I’m not- you sound very nice. I guess I will admit the fact that I told you about talking about your dreams was completely false. I just wanted to pry.”

You shook your head with laughter, the sun peeking up even further in the sky.

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Obsession

Tom Riddle X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Mild language, Graphic, Smut, Toxic, Possessive, Protective, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive, Anger…

Prompt: Y/N Black is a mystery to many. She isn’t interested in making friends, only her studies. However, unbeknownst to many, one boy has piqued her interest——Tom Riddle. Little did she know, he had an obsession with her.

Sidenote: I did use some spells from the vampire diaries just for the heck of it. I may do a part two, but I’m not sure if it really needs it. I’ll leave it up to you guys!

Everyone seemed more chattier than usual. Maybe it was the upcoming Yule Ball or maybe it was because holidays were approaching. However, you hated the buzzing chatter, the obnoxious shouting, and all of the crowded halls. You had tried to go to the library as an escape from this madness, but everyone had infiltrated the library even.

You were the Scrooge that everybody was painfully aware of as you stormed through the halls with your books clutched to your chest. If you were a Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor, they would have laughed at the irked expression on your face. However, knowing you were a Slytherin strikes fear in many.

Not to mention you were a mystery to many. You were oh so quiet, along with a freakishly amount of smart, and an unearthly amount of beautiful. You chose to stick to yourself, choosing to not make any friends. You instead chose to have acquaintances in case a group project popped up, however you normally managed to worm your way out of that so you could work alone.

That was how you preferred doing things, alone. Other students have given up on trying to befriend you, seeing it as pointless. Guys would still try and ask you out, but their advances failed. They hadn’t noticed that your interest was piqued by a boy already. However, it seemed that he was just like you.

Tom Riddle was a handsome young man with jet black curly-ish hair and dark brown eyes that looked almost black from afar. He was fairly tall and had a lean look. His face was always blank…passive as he studied or walked through the halls or even when he was with his group of “friends”. They were his followers in his mind, not his friends. To anyone else, they saw them as a happy friend group.

You had noticed the things that anyone would pick up about Tom from afar, like his intelligence. Tom excelled in all of his classes, in fact he was tied at the top of the year with you. He too was introverted, preferring to be alone and in silence. For someone as passive as Tom, you noticed things he did. When he was judging something, he’d lean back in his chair, occasionally quirking an eyebrow as if he was impressed or annoyed.

When he was in a rather intuitive or creative mood, his eyes seemed to be a lighter shade of brown and he would get carried away in his journal. When he was thinking, he would zone out on his journal or something in the room.

You noticed that he’d clench his jaw until a muscle there ticked when he got angered. When he was annoyed, he had a tendency to sigh.

“Y/N!” Narcissa calls.

She stood among Tom Riddle and all of his “friends”. Tom’s eyes find you who was clearly irritated. You had made your way through the crowd and head towards her.

“Yes?” You ask.

“Hey, that is no way to talk to your favorite cousin.” Narcissa scolds.

“Who said you were my favorite?” You ask.

“It’s because it is me.” Bellatrix grins.

“Not you either.” You mutter.

“Moving on, have you seen Sirius or Regulus?” She asks.

“I’m not their keeper, Narcissa.” You mutter.

“They said they were meeting up with you.” She says, sighing in frustration.

“Well they didn’t. I need to get to class.” You mutter.

Before you could go, Bellatrix grabs your upper arm in a tight grip. You turn back to her with a clenched jaw as Narcissa steps back, muttering an “Uh-Oh���.

“Leaving so soon, cousin?” She mocks.

“Bellatrix, I’m warning you now to let go or you will regret it.” You warn calmly.

“What will you do? You're all goody two shoes, yet your in Slytherin. I think that dumb hat sorted you into the wrong house.” She says.

You pull your wand free, pointing it at her as you mutter “Stupefy”. You roll your eyes as she flies backwards through the crowd.

“If I wouldn’t get expelled, I would definitely crucio you or use the killing curse on you for your information. However, nothing is stopping me once we graduate.” You say, before turning and leaving the group stunned.

Tom smiles slightly as he watches you walk away, finding himself even more intrigued with you than he originally was. Call it an interest or maybe an obsession at this point. He liked to watch you when he could. He noticed things about you that he was sure no one else noticed.

He knew you were a quiet and mysterious girl, but underneath that “innocent” mask you wore, he knew there was a strong woman with a dangerous mind. You were far from innocent and today proved that more so to him. To anyone else, you were that innocent girl. However, when you let your guard down if you were stressed or angry or irritated, he could see the danger swirling in your (eye color) eyes.

He lets his smile fall, regaining his composure before turning back to his group. Bellatrix was back on her feet, a scowl on her face as Narcissa helped hold her up. He watches as Sirius and Regulus join them.

“What is wrong with you?” Sirius asks.

“Your bloody sister is what is wrong! She used stupefy on me!” She snaps.

“How pissed off did you make her?” Regulus chuckles, shaking his head.

“You both told me you were meeting with her about becoming a follower. Yet, she hasn’t seen either of you all day. So, where were you both off to?” Narcissa snaps.

“Have you seen how mad she can get? We learned not to mess around when she gets mad, Issa. When she is mad, she will take down anyone in her path. We’ve learned how to avoid making her mad. So, you go have that conversation with her because I rather not get crucio’d again.” Sirius says.

“Wow.” Avery mutters.

“She may be quiet and keeps to herself, but Y/N is a ticking time-bomb when you make her mad. She is intelligent, and maybe too intelligent for her own good. She also liked being stronger than others in magic, so that is why she studies so hard. However, because she is so antisocial and introverted, even as a child before Hogwarts, she took her studies serious, so she doesn’t understand fun. She is boring.” Sirius says.

“I bet she hasn’t ever shagged anyone, or snogged! A sixth year and a virgin! That is embarrassing.” Bellatrix cackles.

That further piqued Tom’s interest about you.. He found himself having more thoughts about you, both innocent and sinful thoughts. However, his sinful thoughts changed to the exception of you being a virgin. That made him feel a possessiveness over you he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about. However, he knew that the idea of you being with anyone else was sickening to him. You were his, you just didn’t know it yet.

Your studies past fairly quickly and you were heading towards the Great Hall. You sit at your normal spot, Regulus sitting next to you. Tom sat a table down with his “friends”, however his focus was on you. Regulus gently closed your books, pushing them away.

“Eat, then study.” He stresses softly.

As irritated as you were about him taking away your books, you listened. Tom quirked a brow, finding himself wondering if it was often you got so distracted by your studies that you didn’t take care of yourself the best. His eyes roam over you slowly, noticing the dark circles under your eyes along with the thinning face of yours. So, it was often, he thought.

“Y/N! My favorite sister! How has your day been?” Sirius asks as plops down across from you.

“What do you want?” You ask, sighing as you pushed your food around on your plate.

“Nothing to do with studies I hope, she is taking a break to eat.” Regulus stresses.

You close your eyes as the two start to argue, resting your chin on your hand. You open your eyes when Regulus stands, his voice getting louder.

“Enough!” You snap, the two instantly quieting.

It had gotten the attention of those around your table. You take in a slow breath before letting it out, regaining your composure before looking between your brothers with a blank look.

“You two bicker like a bunch of children. This is our brief moment to be able to hang out, however you both don’t know how to push aside your differences because you both are too hot-headed and irrational.” You rant.

You snatch up your books that Regulus had pushed away from you earlier and stood from the table as you left the Great Hall.

Tom watched you leave before looking between your brothers, before his eyes fell on your plate of untouched food. He puts some food in his bag, going unnoticed and decides to leave himself. He made his way to the library, heading to the forbidden section where he assumed you’d be. He feels a brief moment of pride flare in his chest, right about where you had gone. He clears his throat and you look up from your notes.

“Here. I noticed you didn’t eat.” He says.

His voice surprised you. It was deep, soft and mysterious. He pulled out some food he took from the Great Hall and handed it to you.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

He nods, going to leave and you begin working on your studies again. You sigh as a loud group comes into the library.

“Would you allow me to show you a place I like to go?” He asks, looking back down at you.

“I don’t see why not.” You admit, gathering your stuff before standing.

You follow behind Tom, not quite sure where he was taking you. You knew of his quest to become the Dark Lord. Some of his followers had big mouths, so you heard more than everyone thought you knew. They assumed you were clueless about his current quest and they all were tip-toeing around who would be the one to break the news to you. However, you knew. You knew more than them in fact.

He looks around, making sure there was no other students or professors in the hall before a door appears in the wall. Your lips part from surprise as he ushers you in, following behind you. You looked around the empty room in awe.

“The Room of Requirements…I’ve heard of it and I’ve looked everywhere for it.” You mumble.

“Yes, I searched for this room for awhile myself. I later learned that the room only will appear in great need.” Tom explains, seeming rather smug about finding it.

“The room seems to know you quite well…and you seem to know the room quite well too. Otherwise, the door wouldn’t have appeared because I’m sure my studies are not in great need.” You say, turning back to him.

You feel a heat spread across your body as you catch his eyes on you. The dark eyes slowly trail over you, mapping out your body. His eyes stop on your blouse where you had a few buttons undone since you were alone and had started to get a little hot in the confined aisles of the forbidden section in the library.

He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You look up, not realizing that he was this tall. He puts a hand out and gently grasps your hip before trailing it up your side. He tugs on the middle of your blouse, revealing more of your cleavage, before he starts undoing the remaining buttons.

“That and maybe because I am in great need of you.” He murmurs, leaning down to trail his lips along your neck.

You shiver, feeling a trail of goosebumps being left behind from the ghost touch. His hands find your shoulders where he pushes the robes off before pushing your blouse off along with it. He leaves a soft kiss on your racing pulse, before he pulls back to look down at you.

You were left in a dark green lace bra, and he tsked quietly, approving the way they made your breasts look. The bra seemed to work as a push-up bra, but really Narcissa had gotten you the wrong size this year.

His eyes trail over your stomach, noting the soft curves he would be sure to feel later. His eyes focus on the short school-girl skirt, also Narcissa’s doing. You didn’t fret much about it as you knew you’d wear your robe more often than not. You were wearing knee high stockings with a pair of mary-janes.

“The school girl skirt, hmph, your just asking to be fucked, aren’t you?” He asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Tom.” You say breathlessly.

“Leave the skirt on, but take your panties off.” He orders.

He begins unbuttoning his own shirt, watching you. You were frozen in place before you start to work the panties down. He held a hand out, looking at you expectantly. Your shaky hand places the matching dark green lace panties into his hand.

He balls it up and sticks it in his blazer pocket. You watch as his long, slender fingers work his belt off. Your eyes focused on his veiny hands.

“Hands and knees.” He says.

You slowly drop to your knees, turning over, no longer able to watch his next move. You get on your hands, moving so you are on your elbows. You arch your back down, sticking your ass out more.

Tom licks his lips slowly, swallowing hard as he watches you get into the position. He inhales deeply, watching as you arch your back. He puts a clenched fist to his mouth, lightly biting himself, not quite sure if this was really happening. The skirt hid nothing. He could see the big globes that he found himself really attracted to. He never would have taken himself as an ass man.

His eyes trail further down to see your glistening entrance. He pushes his pants off before he gets on the ground behind you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before he finds himself tracing down your spine lightly. You shiver unintentionally, however he enjoyed the effect he on you.

“How bad do you want me?” He murmurs into your ear.

“Please, Tom.” You whisper as you push your hips back.

“Pathetic. Do you want my cock or not?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and roughly jerking your head back.

A breathless moan fills the thick air in the room as a heat spreads across your scalp. He clenches his jaw, feeling himself twitch from the sound he heard. It was the beginning of a beautiful symphony, one he didn’t realize how much he’d become crazed for.

“Tom! Please! I need you!” You cry, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t touching you where you wanted to be touched.

He smirks, gently grabbing your hips. He uses his other hand to guide himself into your dripping entrance. He groans, your walls immediately grasping onto him, suffocating him. You moan lowly, your hands grasping at the stone floor as your eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck.” He curses, working himself in and out of you slowly.

“Tom, please.” You plead, pushing your hips back.

“Is my cock the first one you’ve ever had?” He asks, his eyes burning in the back of your head as he awaited your response.

“Yes! Please, Tom!” You cry.

He couldn’t help the grin across his face. He heard it, but he wasn’t sure if maybe you just kept them out of the loop. But, knowing he was the one to take your virginity was exhilirating to him.

“I better be the only cock you have here. You are mine.” He warns.

“Yes! I-I’m yours, Tom!” You moan as he starts to move at a faster pace.

“I’ll kill any boy who dares to be with you, because you are mine! I’ll punish you if I see you talking to some boy.” He growls, his hips now savagely moving.

You cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him, coming around him.

You stood on shaky legs, buttoning up your blouse and grimacing as you feel your shared climaxes slowly leaking out of you. He grasps your chin, looking at you with a stern look.

“Keep it in. I want you to know who fucked you.” He says.

“Tom, I need my panties.” You say as your cheeks flush.

“Find another way to keep it in.” He says, before focusing back on straightening himself out.

You pull your blazer on along with your robes before grabbing your books and hurrying out. You reach the Slytherin common room, Narcissa and Bellatrix looking up from their game of cards. Sirius and Regulus’s backs were to you.

“Oh my god, you got shagged!” Narcissa exclaims with a grin.

“Who was it?” Bellatrix asks.

“Yeah, I’d like to know.” Sirius seethes, taking in your disheveled hair and the hickeys on your neck.

Narcissa looks at your knees to see that they were scraped up, but you choose to ignore your brothers and cousins as you make your way past them. Regulus laughs, yelling “Atta girl!”

A small smile graces your lips at your little brothers comment. He too was protective of you, but he knew you inside and out. He and you were far closer than you were with Sirius. You get to your dorm and think of showering, but then your mind wanders to Tom. Keep it in…

You pull on a pair of fresh panties as you change into your nightware. You found yourself tossing and turning for a long while before you fell asleep. By the time it was time to wake up, you were exhausted. You could sleep in, but that ruins your morning routine.

You go to the shower, grimacing at the burn in your stomach. It was now that you realized you didn’t eat once yesterday. You finished up in the bathroom before pulling on a black lingerie set. You gasp as your door opens and Tom walks in.

“I knew you’d be awake.” He says, his eyes slowly roaming over you and some of the bruises he had made from where he held you still.

“Tom, what are you doing here?” You ask, grabbing a random robe and pulling it on.

“I’ve seen it all, darling. I wanted to tell you no more skirts.” He says and you look at him confused.

“I…Is it because how short they are?” You ask.

“That and the school girl skirt should be meant for my eyes when we are alone. Do you understand?” He asks.

“I…yes, Tom.” You say quietly.

He grins, looking at your neck where you had several hickeys before he leaves. You frown and look at the outfit you had prepared for this morning. It consisted of a school girl skirt.You sigh, grabbing a dark green skater skirt that ended a little about mid-thigh. There wasn’t much you could do about the length of your skirts until you went shopping again.

You grab your button up blouse and your Slytherin tie. You grab the blazer and sigh when you see dust on it. You hang it back up, deciding you will have to clean it later because you don’t have time now.

You pull on your knee socks and mary-janes when there was a knock at your dorm door. You open it and see it was Narcissa.

“I came bearing gifts.” She says.

You open the door and she guides you to the small vanity as she begins to help you cover the hickeys on your neck and jawline.

“So, who was it?” She asks.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to say who it was yet.” You murmur.

“Did he force you? I’ll make him suffer the worst ways imaginable.” She says seriously.

“No, no, he didn’t force me. I’m just not sure what is happening yet. I don’t know if it merely was just another shag to him or if it’ll turn into something. However, he’s being a little controlling of what I wear, mainly my skirts.” You explain.

“I feel like I already know who this is.” She says, sighing.

“Who?” You ask.

“Tom Riddle?” She asks.

“Oh…how did you know?” You ask.

“Tom is…many things. I don’t know if he is capable of love and a relationship. He is a very possessive man. And I mean to the extent that it isn't healthy. He is ill-tempered and easily jealous. Not to mention he can be obsessive too. I personally think you should put some distance between the two of you and let things die down. I don’t know what his intentions are, but I’m sure they aren’t good.” She explains.

“Alright.” You say quietly.

You were quite sure how to feel. But, you knew Narcissa meant well and you also knew that she knew Tom better than you. You trusted her advice almost as you trusted Regulus’s.

“All done.” She says.

“Thank you, Issa.” You murmur and she nods.

She leaves you to your thoughts and you realize you need to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. You gather your books and make your way out of your dorm in a daze. You head to the Great Hall and see everyone was already there. You ignore the burning stare that you knew belonged to Tom Riddle.

“Hey, you okay? You seem out of it? And your running late.” Regulus says.

“Oh, I’m fine. I think I’m just in need of food. I realized I didn’t eat once yesterday.” You explain.

“Y/N/N, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. I will start treating you like I did the first year.” He warns.

“I know, I know, and I promise I’ll do better.” You sigh.

“Why is Riddle staring at you? He seems pissed.” He whispers.

“Oh, who knows.” You sigh, briefly glancing at Tom.

Tom was staring at your neck where your hickeys would be, but thanks to Narcissa, they were no longer there. You managed to eat some of your food before it began to make you feel sick. You felt suffocated with Tom glaring daggers into you and Sirius was no better.

“Stop it.” Regulus warns Sirius.

��I want to know who it was.” He snaps, looking back at you.

You clench your jaw, narrowing your eyes at him as you take a slow breath in and let it out. You pull your wand out and keep your hand rested on the table, so you don’t draw anymore attention to you.

“Keep glaring, brother and watch how fast you end up in the hospital wing.” You warn lowly.

“Guys.” Narcissa warns.

“Who is he?” He growls lowly, leaning closer to you.

“Oh shit. Take cover!” Regulus says, going under the table.

You reach forward, grabbing Sirius’s tie and pull him closer as your face heats from anger.

“Astronomy tower, now.” You grit out.

He stands and storms out and you stand as Regulus pokes his head out.

“Don’t kill him please.” He pleads.

You storm out of the Great Hall, wand in hand as you make your way towards the Astronomy tower to see him already there and waiting.

“Who is it!?” He snaps as you both circle each other.

“Sirius, it’s none of your business. Stop trying to act like the older and protective brother. Stop acting like you care!” You snap.

“I do care! You're my sister.” He snaps.

“Guys. Let’s try to keep calm.” Narcissa says as she walks in with her group.

“Yeah, let’s just hug it out and make up.” Regulus says.

“I want to know who has my sister acting like a tramp.” He snaps.

“Oh no….oh no! Oh no! Back up, back up, back up!” Regulus says as he pushes everyone back.

“Bombarda!” You fast and Sirius curses as he tries to dodge the mini explosion you casted his way.

“Confundo!” He shouts, but you dodge it.

“Everte Statum.” You cast, watching as he flies back against the wall, his wand falling in the process.

You walk forward, grabbing his wand before looking down at him.

“Impulsa Animositas!” You snap, gaining confused looks from around the room.

“I…Y/N, have you been creating spells again?” Regulus asks cautiously.

“Again?” Narcissa asks alarmed.

“What did you do to me?” Sirius snaps.

“Say something mean. To any of us.” You say, smirking.

“What the hell did you do to me you crazy bi—ow!” He exclaims after feeling a jolt of electricity go through you.

“Just as I assumed. This spell will zap you everytime you try and say something mean.” You say.

“That’s child’s play you idiot!” He snaps before groaning.

“Hm. This isn’t. Lihednat Dolchitni.” You cast.

His hands find his throat as he try’s to breath. You clench your fist tighter, watching how he struggles more before you wave your hand and it stops. He leans forward, breathing heavily.

“Tread carefully, brother. I have far more up my sleeve than you wish to believe.” You spat.

“You…you will get in so much trouble for creating spells. Regulus and I told you that you need to stop.” He breathes heavily.

“Then keep your mouths shut otherwise I’ll make you suffer in the worst unimaginable ways.” You say.

With that, you turn and walk past the group who seemed shocked. You head back to the Great Hall, gathering your items before heading back to your dorm. You were too upset and riled up to do anything. So, instead you hurry to your dorm and lock the door.

You pace frantically, running your hands through your hair. You let a breath out that you hadn’t noticed you were holding.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” You mumble to yourself.

The lock on your door clicks, so you turn and see Tom. He closes the door back and turns to you with that normal passive and cold look.

“That was…impressive.” He says.

“Tom, I really rather be alone right now.” You mutter.

“Why cover the marks I left? I left them for a reason.” He says, his voice hardening as his eyes turn several shades darker.

“I didn’t want to walk around with them showing. People would have said something and I don’t want to deal with that. Plus, I rather the school not know I was your play thing.” You mutter harshly, turning your back to him.

“Who said you were a play thing because I don’t recall ever telling you that?” He snaps.

“Tell me this, Tom. Are you one for commitment? Would you be in an exclusive relationship? Huh, tell me that!” You snap harshly as you turn to face him again.

“I can do commitment. Before, I’d say no. However, for you I am willing to do it. I’m willing to be in an exclusive relationship as you call it. Because I can’t ever get you out of my head! You are all I can focus on! It’s so…so irritating, yet I love it at the same time.” He growls.

“Tom, there are going to have to be some rules set in place if we are to do something. Like the skirt thing this morning. I only wear skirts.” You say.

“Fine. Wear your skirts, well not the school girl ones, however I can’t promise that some asshole won’t end up dead for looking. You are mine.” He snaps.

“Okay, and what about the marks?” You ask.

“You shouldn’t care what anyone says. You never have before, so why care now? I want people to know that you belong to me. I want the guys to realize that you aren’t a possibility anymore. You are mine.” He says, closing the distance between you both.

You look up as his hand wraps around your throat. He tightens his hand and you let a shaky breath out as you clench your thighs.

“You barely know me.” You mumble.

“I know more than you think, darling. You piqued my interest. When that happens, I tend to learn everything I can.” He murmurs, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

You hum, moving your hands to his hair. You whine when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips.

“What does that mean? How have you learned about me if you just started speaking to me yesterday?” You ask.

“Because I might be a bit obsessive when it comes to learning of the things that interest me. I won’t stop until I know everything.” He says.

There was banging on your dorm door and you sigh, going to walk past Tom, but he loops an arm around your waist.

“Who is it?” Tom asks, annoyed.

“It’s Bella, me and Regulus. Is Y/N in there?” Narcissa says.

“Well go away. I’m about to fuck my girl.” He snaps.

Your face heats up as you cover your mouth to hide your gasp. Narcissa gasps, Regulus laughs and yells for you to get it while Bellatrix throws a fit.

“We are not doing anything! We are just talking!” You exclaim.

“Talking, huh?” He says, quirking a brow at you as he slips a hand beneath your skirt.

You let a shaky breath out as he trails his hand up your thigh. He gets to your underwear, sliding two fingers beneath the lacy fabric.

“Tom.” You mumble.

“Talking and yet you're so wet for me. Do you want my cock again?” He asks, sliding a finger in you.

Your eyes flutter close and he grins widely, loving the way you reacted to his touch. You were the violin and he was the violinist. He played you so gracefully and loved the beautiful symphony that came from your mouth. It was his greatest obsession.

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

Taglist:

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[lvrhughes]

Underage | L. Hughes

word count: 1.79k

pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

warnings: underage drinking? (it's legal in Canada though??)

summary: Luke meets a pretty girl at the bar

requested: no

notes: i don’t understand drinking age in the US i’ll be so real i’m canadian it’s legal at 18 or 19 here

not my gif!

“Are you even legal?” The question slipped out before you could think, quickly hiding the embarrassment with a sip of your drink while you watched the boys cheeks turn a dark pink.

“I- um.” He barely could speak, his voice shaky and his hands just as bad. Who you had to assume to be his brother, stood beside his, leaned up to rest his arm around the taller ones shoulder. 

“He’s not but we just needed him for some team bonding so we thought it’d be fine, he won’t drink or anything.” The older one assured, his tone was calm and collected, ignoring the odd idea that some random girl who just happened to be walking past the group would ask such an absurd question.

“Oh man, I don’t care if he does. I don’t work here. I just clearly have had too much and no filter.” The words slipped out again, the realization of how stupid you might have sounded hitting you after. 

A look of relief flashed over the younger one's face though, his posture relaxing a little more while his brother’s, as you assumed, arm slid off his shoulder, bending over in laughter.

“Holy shit! Luke, you looked horrified!” the shorter one spoke, words interrupted by laughter, while you tried not to laugh with him.

The taller one, Luke, rolled his eyes, smacking his brother before speaking again.

“I thought I was about to be kicked out, I think being a little scared is fair.” He grumbled, staring his brother down while he simply laughed. 

“I’m sorry I scared you, if it makes you feel better I’m not supposed to be here either.” Your hand shot to your mouth quickly, immediately knowing that saying that aloud would lead to you being kicked out.

“What?” The shorter one spoke again, you really needed to learn his name, with a look of shock among his features.

“I shouldn't have said that.”

“How did you get in?” It was Luke this time, his voice filled with curiosity. 

“My best friend works here, she gets me in.”

He nodded his head, the brunette beside him staring in awe while you shyly mixed the drink you held, damn near empty now. 

“Can I get your number?” Luke spoke quickly and quietly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he asked. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face at the awkward yet cute movements of the boy, allowing him to pass you his phone. Typing your number quickly before snapping a quick selfie, creating a perfect contact for the cute boy you’d just met at the bar. You watched him look over the contact as he held the phone in his hands, a soft smile and blush covering his cheeks. 

“Why don’t you sit with us?” The shorter of the brothers spoke again, his arm wrapping around your waist for a second, pulling you off guard, as he moved you from passing strangers. 

“I thought you had some team bonding thing happening here?”

“Oh we do, they just definitely won’t care. This is just an excuse for the team to get drunk together once more before the season starts.” He explained, Luke standing uncomfortably behind him.

You simply nodded, not having any words to answer. If you said no you’d be missing out on a really cute boy, but if you said yes you're subject to meeting more strangers tonight. It seemed like a loose-loose scenario, so fuck it.

“Yeah I’ll sit with y’all, just let me get another drink.” 

The boys nodded, Luke offering to come with you while the other deemed he’d be at the table with the team.

“So is that your brother?” The question came quick, the moment it was just you and Luke walking towards the counter.

“Yeah, he’s one of my older brothers.” 

You nodded, asking more short questions to get to know the tall, curly haired boy more. Allowing his short and simple answers to gather more about him, listening to the tone of his voice while he spoke. He only silenced when you’d reached the bar, glancing for your friend before calling her over.

“Another one? Already?” The bartender smiled, shaking her head while you shone a shy smile towards your best friend. “I see you got company though.” 

She wiggled her eyebrows while you reached over the counter, smacking her arm lightly while she laughed. She continued mixing the drink, unphased by your previous actions as Luke stood and stared in awe, simple thoughts running through his mind of how pretty you looked. 

“Hey, be nice to the bartender, I could just not make you drinks!” She spoke after, pouring the finished drink into another glass before sliding it to you. 

“You’d never, you love me too much.” You grinded, sending a kiss in the air to her, watching her pretend to catch it while you walked away with Luke.

“So, what’s your team like?”

The question came from your lips quickly, taking a small sip of the drink you had just gained after while Luke scratched at the back of his neck. 

“They’re… a lot sometimes but they’re the best I could even ask for.” His words had a sense of pride in them, proving how much his team meant to him.

“What is your team for?” 

A blush quickly covered his face, leaving him a soft, mumbling mess. His hand running through his curls rapidly while he tried to figure out how to answer the question. 

“I- Uh-” He interrupted himself with a sigh, deeming lying held no hope, “You ever watch the NHL?”

Confusion struck your features, stopping in your tracks to stare down the tall boy for a moment, seeing the concern that struck his features. You shook your head slightly, seeing his shoulders drop in relief at the admission that you don’t watch hockey. 

“Well I- uh, play for the New Jersey Devils?” The sentence came out more of a question than anything else, his hand still anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. 

“That’s cool.” You smiled at him, seeing the shock that covered his face when you seemingly did not care that he was a household name. 

“Thank God you didn’t freak out.” He mumbled, a small smile appearing across his features again, taking your hand in his tentatively.

Leading you to the table, seeing his group of rowdy teammates taking up an entire corner in the bar, leading you to the end of the table, pulling out a chair for you while you glanced through the roster. 

A few faces seemed familiar, probably from the few times you had watched a hockey game with your best friend, who was a hockey fanatic, but not of the Devils. No, her heart was set on the Canucks, having come from Vancouver. 

“Lukey! You got a girl now?” One cheered, his voice loud over the noise, clear he’d already had a few too many drinks. 

“Fuck off Daws.” Luke groaned, his arm wrapping around the top of your chair, pulling it right beside his. 

“She scared the shit out of him when we were walking in!” Luke’s brother cheered back, going into detail of how you met the brothers. 

“Lu,” You whispered, leaning into him to gain his attention, “What’s your brother’s name?” 

A pink flushed over his face when he turned, leaving barely three inches between your faces, before he answered. 

“Jack,” He paused, leaning back and pointing out his teammates one by one, “That’s Dougie, Nico, Timo, Šimon..” 

His list continued, watching certain players acknowledge his introductions and wave towards you while others continued their own conversations, laughing with each other. You smiled at a few of the players, letting your gaze wander back onto Luke after, watching the way his eyes lit up as he heard his teammates talking about something that piqued his interest, quickly shoving his way into the conversation. 

“Luke, pay some attention to your girl before she leaves you.” One man spoke up, shoving Luke back towards you from where he’d been leaning, if you remembered right, it was Dougie. 

A darker shade covered his cheeks, his attention turning to you, where you had been sitting, admiring the boy talking to his friends. His eyes caught your quickly, holding until you broke, glancing down at his lips before you could stop and think. 

A small smile covered his face, his attention fully on you as he maneuvered your body, pulling your legs over his, pulling you as close as possible. A look beyond normal flooded his eyes, his brother could see it from miles away, the look of admiration, of love and lust that threatened to take over. 

“Would you go on a date with me?” His voice held a note of fear, yet the question slipped out before he could think, his teammates silencing their conversations to listen quickly. 

“I’d love to.” 

The smile that broke out on his face was enough to elicit one from you, matching grins painting your faces while his brother shared a similar one. A sense of pride flowing from Jack, watching his little brother find a girl. 

Your eyes flashed down to Luke’s lips once more, more confident than the last look. His eyes followed yours, watching your gaze drop while he did the same to you before reaching out.

His arm wrapping around your waist, sliding you forwards, gently as if to give you the choice to pull away. Like you ever would.

He dropped his head, his face barely apart from yours, your breaths mingling together while he waited, seeing if you’d pull back. He watched you carefully, watching you lean forward slightly, lessening the distance between, before he made his move. 

Pressing his lips against yours, feeling your body melt into his, his hands holding your waist while your legs stayed over his lap, sitting sideways in the uncomfortable bar chair while your hands moved to his hair. Running a soft hand through his curls, feeling the way he leaned in for more, feeling how much he liked having your hands in his hair. Feeling him pull way for air, pressing his forehead against yours to keep you close, making sure your hands stayed where they were. 

A smile covered your lips, seeing one cover his lips too. His cheeks flushed pink while cheers from his teammates filled the bar, earning your move to hide your face in his chest, having his arms wrap around you tightly, protectively. 

“So how about that date?” 

You laughed at his words, leaning back to stare up at him, seeing the sly smile on his face before you leaned forward to press another soft kiss to his lips, silencing his horrible jokes.

[midwestprincesss]

how did it end?

part 1 || patrick zweig x fem!reader

"you cannot love somebody into loving you"

summary: your relationship with patrick has been on and off for ages. you knew him and he knew you. you love him but he only loves you when he can get something out of it. but then, can that even be considered love?

a/n(READ THIS BITCH): random ass specific fact about the reader but she is skincare obsessed like me. acne prone girlies yk what im talking about. btw I KNOW PATRICK DOESN'T GO TO STANFORD BUT WE WILL PRETEND HE SPENDS A LOT OF TIME THERE OK. also this series will only continue if u guys give me feedback. and hype me up. cause i have no motivation. patrick girlies help me i know ur out there💪 also this first chapter is like. they're friends but pining. no angst yet oopsie

2004, stanford college.

being in love with patrick was difficult. really, really fucking difficult. it was almost like you had to put in an effort to be in love with him. nevertheless, you didn't. to you it just felt easy. you wish you could get rid of the feeling, but it doesn't seem to want to go away.

patrick zweig could be very easily described in one word: player. and by that i don't only mean tennis player.

but he was easy to love, too. if we ignore all the mixed signals he always gave you, he's actually a sweet guy.

he remembers your coffee order. he listens to your problems. he calls you to check up on you. and he takes care of you while you're out partying. and after that. and in the morning. he holds your hair and rubs your back as you puke out whatever the fuck you drank last night. he gives you his clothes. out of all the girls he knows, he gives you his clothes.

this was one of those times.

saturday morning.

you woke up with a horrible headache and with a certain curly-haired boy next to you. you try to remember what happened last night, but you give up after about three minutes of staring at the ceiling in silence. who cares, really? at least you woke up in your bed, and not on a random bench outside. not that patrick would ever let that happen.

he has the key to your dorm. he spent most of his days with you, so you figured it would be totally fine for him to have it.

you rub your eyes sleepily as you look to your left- patrick was not sleeping either.

"morning." he said, simply. you groaned in response.

"glad you asked, and you're welcome." he said sarcastically. "you got fucking wasted, like usual. i had to carry you from the party. not that you couldn't walk, but you just insisted on it. when we finally got here you threw up all over yourself. and then in the toilet, like three times, i think."

your eyes widened in disgust. you looked down at your clothes, expecting to find a now vomit-stained white dress on. to your surprise, you were wearing a dark green tee - you remember you've seen it on patrick once- and a pair of uncomfortably large boxers. you're surprised they didn't fall off while you were sleeping.

"patrick." you said, terrified. "please tell me i took my makeup off before sleeping. or at least washed my face." patrick sighed. 'blah blah blah i have sensitive skin blah blah blah i'll break out if i sleep with my makeup on' you always told him, whenever he was sleeping over.

"you didn't." he said. then went quiet for a few seconds, but just for his own amusement. he thought you looked cute when you were worried. but worried was not a big enough word for the look on your face- you were more like, mortified, maybe? so he decided to stop joking around. "i took your makeup off. i couldn't find those circular white thingies you do it with so i used a towel-"

you cut him off with a laugh. you could actually kiss him. maybe you shouldn't, though. your breath smelled like actual shit. looking to your right, at the nightstand next to your side of the bed, you noticed your earrings and necklace and rings arranged neatly next to eachother and you swore you felt your heart flutter.

you knew patrick cared about you, but you didn't think he would be so attentive. usually, you don't get so drunk, so you can actually do what you need to do by yourself. even then, he insists he should do it for you. but you always refused him, partly because you didn't want to bother him but you were also pretty convinced he would not do things properly. he proved you wrong.

"for how long have you been awake?" you ask him.

"i'm not sure whether i even slept. you kept talking on your sleep. and tossing. and turning. and stealing the blanket. i think you even slapped me once-" he started laughing as you started muttering apologies, but he immediately told you not to worry about it.

you sighed, then you both went silent. you examined his face- he really did seem tired- droopy eyes, dark eyebags, eyelids partially closed. but still smirking at you. no one and nothing could ever wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

"you look cute." he broke the silence, letting his thumb linger on your cheek.

"i feel like shit." you snickered, hiding your face in your hands but he immediately pulled them away, kissing your knuckles.

that took you by surprise. sure, you and patrick were affectionate with eachother, but this felt way more intimate than usual. what was going on with him?

suddenly, you looked at the time. 10:30 am. you were late for breakfast. like, really late. you figured there wouldn't be anything left in the cafeteria by now.

"shit. we'll have to starve until lunch, patrick" you told him, a hint of irony in your voice.

"don't worry, i'll go get us something from the supermarket." he said as he got up, pulling a grey hoodie over his head. he took his keys and wallet then looked down lovingly at you as you still rested on the bed. "call me if you need anything else" he said , kissing your forehead then leaving. leaving your dorm, but also leaving you swooning over him.

you were in it for good.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Can we have a Poly!Marauders x Quiddich Player Reader, Where she falls and breaks a bone and tries to hide it from the boys? That would be so great <3

thanks for requesting gorgeous!! poly!marauders x fem!reader

cw: mentions of injury/bruises

1.1k words

“I was able to heal the bone, but it will be a bit sore for a bit. Try to take it easy for about a day or so. Some bruising is normal, but keep an eye on it. If anything looks concerning, don’t hesitate to come back in, okay?” Madame Pomfrey slathered some unknown mixture over the inflamed skin on your shoulder.

“Okay.” That seemed to be the only word you had said in the past half hour, eager to leave the hospital wing.

“This bandage should help with the swelling.” The nurse explained as she wrapped long strips of white cloth around your chest, then crossing over your shoulder. You glanced at the clock anxiously, seeing it was now 10 minutes past when you were usually back at your boyfriend’s dorm.

“Thank you so much, Miss.” you said politely, putting your clothes back on. She patted your good shoulder as you hurried out into the corridor.

You changed clothes in your room before going to the Gryffindor common room. It was now late afternoon, when most of the house members were outside enjoying the nice weather, or inside the library studying. You heard the ruckus of the three boys immediately after you stepped through the portrait hole.

“Hey sweetheart! We were just about to look for you, we were getting worried.” James looked thrilled to see you, if not a little concerned.

“Sorry, practice ran late.” You fibbed, worrying your lower lip with your fingers. You hoped the collar of your sweater was efficiently hiding the bandages.

“That’s okay lovie, come sit.” James scooted over, creating a space between himself and Remus (who had Sirius curled on his lap like a cat, arm held over his eyes like a damsel in distress).

“Practice go okay?” Remus asked cooly, flipping the page of his novel.

“Yeah. It was alright.” You really wished the topic would just change.

“Modest as ever, dolly. Marlene was watching for a bit. She said you kicked ass.” Sirius chuckled. You winced. If she saw you fall she definitely would’ve told the boys. You gave Sirius a nervous smile. He lowered his arm to look at you suspiciously.

James squeezed your shoulder, making pain fizzle down your arm, but you kept your face stoic. You leant back into his chest as you let them return to their previous conversation. Your eyes were closed, listening to the vibration of James’ laughter.

You were almost asleep when you were jolted back to reality, in the form of Sirius grabbing your legs and tugging them towards him.

“Ah! Siri!” You gasped. Your legs were now across Sirius’ lap (technically also Remus’) and your head landed in James’.

“Gentle, love.” Remus chided the boy in his lap.

“She was so far away.” Sirius pouted pathetically. You lifted your head to look at him blankly.

“We are literally on the same couch.”

“That’s not close enough! I want you inside my skin!” Sirius whined. He all but flung himself off of Remus’ lap and on top of you. You squealed.

“Christ! Pads! You’re lucky I spend so much time in the gym. Not everyone could handle your roughhousing.” James scolded but his voice was laced heavily with fondness.

“Not the only reason I’m lucky.” He waggled his dark eyebrows at the curly-haired boy before he nuzzled his face right into your neck. On any other occasion you would giggle and squirm, but because of your injury, you groaned and your face screwed up in pain. You tried to hide it but unfortunately Remus had a perfectly unobstructed view of your face.

“Padfoot. Off.” Remus (gently) pulled Sirius off of you. Clearly his tone indicated that he wasn’t joking, because you heard no protests. James stroked your still tensed face.

“Shit! Did I hurt you, baby?” Sirius knelt by the couch, patting you down to look for injury. You winced again when he reached your chest. You shook your head.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just a little sore from practice ‘s all.” You tried to shove the boys off but it was no use.

“Let’s have a look.” Remus wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh, it’s really fine.” You floundered, but he still stuck his long fingers into your collar, pulling it down to expose your clavicle. James gasped when he saw the white of the bandages.

“Sweetheart!” James pressed his fingers into the top of the wrap and you hissed. “What happened here?”

“I just got a little banged up.” You moved to sit up but you were gently pushed back down.

“Off with the sweater, dove.”

“If you wanted me to strip, Lupin you didn’t have to go through all this fuss.”

He just rolled his eyes. You complied begrudgingly. The boys all hissed at the sight. Tight bandages digging into your skin, discoloration painting the edges.

“That’s more than a little banged up, lovely girl.” James stroked your head. His tone was light in the way it is when he’s especially worried.

“Did you fall onto the tracks and get hit by the fucking Hogwarts Express?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“It’s not that bad. It’s all healed anyway, just a little tender.” You reassured.

“Did you go to the hospital wing?” Remus asked plainly. You inhaled deep, knowing the reaction you were going to get.

“Yes.” You sighed. “It’s fine. It was a little fracture but she healed it.”

“Baby!” Sirius pinched your thigh hard. “You went to the hospital for this and you weren’t going to tell us?”

“Well… yeah. Because it’s all healed now.” You said as if it was obvious.

“That doesn’t mean you keep it a secret you muppet.” James scolded. He still leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t want to make it a big deal.” Remus handed your sweater back to you and you sat up to shrug it on.

“That’s why you lied to us and said practice ran late, when you were actually getting treated for a broken bone?” Remus quirked a brow at you. You suddenly felt small.

“Sorry.” You looked down. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, baby dove. But I need you to tell us if you get hurt, yeah? It’s important. It’s our job to keep you safe. You need to let us do that, okay?” His brown eyes were warm, but commanding in the way only Remus could accomplish.

“Okay.” You nodded. He tapped your chin with his knuckle.

“Attagirl. Now c’mere.” He tugged you into him, your face against his sweater. Sirius climbed into James’ lap and snuggled into him. The bespectacled boy whispered something in his ear.

“I might have to take a tumble if it will get Moons to look at me like that.”

[cutielando]

my lifeline | m.r.

synopsis: in which you're his only purpose in life

my masterlist

Mattheo had always had it rough.

Being the son of the Dark Lord brought enough complications to his life, let alone being at school with people who only made fun of him because of that.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about his life seemed fair, but he had no choice about it. He couldn’t change who he was, no matter how much he wanted to.

But he could change the way he viewed himself.

And he did. 

From the moment you had entered his life.

You transfering to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Watching you timidly walk towards the Sorting Hat, anxiously waiting for it to speak and tell you which house you would join, seeing the sweet smile you had given the Slytherins once you joined them at their table and just so happened to have been sitting right across from him.

He knew, from the moment you had looked at him with your bright eyes, that he was a goner.

Over the course of your first weeks at the school, Mattheo had been the one to welcome you the best, always offering to show you around the castle, help you study or simply just keep you company while you would do homework together.

Pansy had also become your friend, very eager to have another girl in the friend group.

Pansy was also the first person to find out about your crush on the curly haired bad boy. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, really. With the amount of time you had been spending together ever since you came to the school, the countless walks you had been on with him when the both of you had free time, the charming smiles he would give you whenever he would look at you.

He had you mesmerized and he didn’t even realize.

The holidays had proved to be the perfect opportunity for Mattheo to finally tell you what he was feeling, right before you left for home.

“Y/N!” he had called out for you as you were struggling to carry your luggage down the countless pairs of stairs towards the castle entrance.

You turned around, a smile immediately appearing on your kind face. The kind of smile that made the butterflies in Mattheo’s stomach go crazy.

“Hey, Mattheo. I was just about to leave for the train, I didn’t want to be late” you explained, gesturing towards your trunk.

You didn’t know if you should have said anything else, knowing that his father and him probably didn’t want to have anything to do with each other and he had no reason to want to go home for the holidays.

“I know, and I wanted to catch you just before you left. I wanted to tell you something that I’ve been putting off for the entire semester” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, signaling that you were listening. 

He let out a breath before speaking up once again.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since you transferred here, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve come to look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do. I just wanted to know if you would like to go on a date with me once you get back?” he asked, making you smile.

All the daydreams about what it would be like to be with him, to know that he was just yours, they were finally going to happen after so much lost time.

“Your timing really sucks” you joked, making him blush and nod. “But my answer is yes” you added before quickly leaning up to kiss his cheek and left.

Unbeknownst to you, the moment you had turned around and couldn’t see him anymore, he fist-bumped the air and did a little happy dance, being sure that nobody would see him and tarnish his bad boy reputation.

Typical.

During the time you spent away, you guys exchanged several letters, in most of them Mattheo was complaining about how slow the time was passing and how eager he was to see you again and take you out.

Which he did, the hour right after you had got back to Hogwarts. 

Your date had been amazing, sipping your favorite warm drinks at the Three Broomsticks, browsing around your favorite shops in Hogsmeade, and then finally ending with a goodnight kiss right at the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

The news that you had become a couple spread around as quickly as a disease would. Gossip traveled very fast around a school full of teenagers, especially when it involved someone with a reputation like Mattheo.

Being seen together in front of the whole school had been something you were weary of, ever since he had asked you out; mainly because it was no news that your now boyfriend was a very handsome lad, and a good number of the girls from every house had a thing for him.

Imagine now, with him dating you, it had automatically put a big target on your back.

But not to worry, Mattheo was there for you.

“People are staring” you told him on the morning of your first breakfast together as a couple, a day after everyone had got back from holiday.

“So? Let them stare, I don’t care” he said, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You gulped, noticing more and more girls whispering and looking at you over their shoulders, frantically it was more like glaring deep into your soul.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the entire female population of this castle hoping your head would explode so they can take your place” you had meant for it to sound like a joke in order to not worry Mattheo, but he had seen right through it.

Following your gaze, he had noticed just how much attention there was on you that morning. He cleared his throat, glaring at every single girl right back, which then prompted them to blush and turn away from you guys.

“Don’t worry about other people, they know nothing about us and they’re just jealous” he whispered to you, planting a kiss on your temple in comfort.

You knew that he was right, that you just had to drown everyone out and just focus on Mattheo and what you had.

And that was exactly what you did.

Months went by very quickly, making your relationship with Mattheo only blossom more and more with each passing day. The love shared between you was more intense than anything either of you had experienced before.

You two helped each other, motivated and encouraged one another. You helped him deal with his problems, listened to him whenever he needed to unwind and just talk to someone about his home, about what his childhood was like and what being Voldemort’s son had done to him.

You slowly helped him out of his shell, making him open to you more and more each passing day, making sure he was comfortable whenever he was around you and always made sure he was okay, no matter where you were or what the circumstances were.

You became what he needed, his savior. 

A lifeline to pull him back to reality when he would need it the most, whenever he would feel like he was about to fall off the edge.

You were his life.

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[queer-little-demigod]

i like me better when i’m with you - luke castellan

summary when a new kid comes to camp, luke gets a bit more stressed than usual, and he goes to his safe space—you.

fic type fluff

pairing luke castellan x fem!Apollo!reader

word count 1.2k

warnings stressed!luke, very much fluff

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune ! credits to them and do go check out their posts <3

When people thought of the best swordsman in camp, their first thought was Luke Castellan. The calm Hermes cabin counselor, the one who took every unclaimed camper under his wing. It also meant he was thought of as the only one to beat Clarisse in a fight, the one who had better technique than the others by light years.

But for you, Luke was the sweet boy who brought you flowers every other day, the boy who called you ‘sunshine’ to play around, the boy who held you so gently and kissed you so sweet. To you, Luke was just a soft sweetheart who loved you to the ends of the earth.

But ‘only for you’ as a statement held fast and true with him.

He never acted the same way around other campers the way he acted with you. Not only did they never receive even the slightest easy praise as you did, but they never got that blind trust, that unwavering faith he had in you. Maybe the trust bit was a bit exclusive to Annabeth, but even then that was because they were close. Family.

So it did come to you as a shock when Percy came to camp and that side came out in Luke.

After poor Percy’s unfortunately encounter with Clarisse, you had spotted Luke with him and decided to come over. As the counselor of the Apollo cabin, you additionally decided to help your boyfriend and his new little stray.

“Hey Luke,” you smiled, approaching them both as they talked under the shade of the trees. You leaned your arm against his shoulder, smiling at Percy in a friendly way.

Luke took a second to just look at you. He took in the way the dampened sun kissed your hair, making it shine ever so slightly, the way the shadows fell cleanly on your face to highlight the contours of your face, the way you were so at ease around him and the new camper.

He was so used to seeing you that he only had to take a second to appreciate your features and presence.

“Oh, Percy, meet Y/n, Apollo cabin counselor,” Luke said with a slight smile as he looked at the boy.

You put a hand out to Percy. He did really look like a sweet boy with his soft-looking face, blue-green eyes, and curly gold hair.

“Hey Percy, welcome to camp half-blood,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n, Luke’s girlfriend,”

You could practically hear Luke roll his eyes beside you, his hand resting sneakily against the small of your back as it always did.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” said Percy with a small smile.

“Aw, he’s so sweet for a kid on his first day,” you said, looking at Luke, who laughed a bit and looked down, running a hand through his dark curly hair. “What’re you two up to?”

“Nothing much, sunshine, just trying to find out who’s this guy’s godly parent,” Luke shrugged, looking back at you.

“Nice,” you laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I won’t hold you guys up for too long, though. Don’t worry,”

However, once you left, as usual Luke felt your absence instantly. It wasn’t the literal absence, obviously, which everyone felt, but he always felt like a part of him was missing when he wasn’t around you. As if part of his happiness wasn’t there because in truth, it wasn’t.

It also meant his safe space was not around instantly. It meant that his confidant was too many steps away to be immediate, to be accessible.

So he waited, as always.

He waited for the sun to go down, for the time for responsibilities to go down with it. He waited for the moon to rise, for the sky to turn from cornflower to depthless midnight blue.

The camp was quiet, deathly so, with the distant call of owls from the woods and the rustle of leaves when the scarce wind blew. The night was a mask which cloaked his sounds, his footsteps, his presence, as he walked down the mossy stone pathway into the trees, towards the mirroring lake.

There you sat, the daughter of the sun, looking ever-radiant in the moon’s soft glow. Your body was a silhouette against the silver of the ethereal light, your calculating eyes cast towards the lake, where there seemed another world to mirror this.

Lost in your own thoughts, thoughts which were kept at bay during the sun’s time, you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps, the shift of the pebbles on the lakeside, come up behind you and rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Luke, you scared the hell out of me!” You exclaimed, laughing softly, looking up at him with shining eyes.

He shrugged and sat beside you, leaning back on his palms as his long legs stretched out before him, feet a good way away from the water.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he smiled, looking at you.

Your brows quirked up, amused. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yup,”

“Don’t pop the ‘p’ like that you sound ridiculous,”

“I can never sound ridiculous, I’m too good looking for that,”

“Can’t say I agree,”

He looked at you with mock offence and grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ruffled your hair, ignoring your hushed protests and struggles.

You finally squirmed out of his grip, laughing softly.

“You’re such an ass!” You laughed, shoving him by the shoulder.

He winked at you, smiling in that same mischievous way that reminded you that despite his responsibilities, he wasn’t quite the adult he portrayed himself as. He was just 19, not even at legal drinking age, for gods’ sake.

But he had to admit that your laugh was the sweetest, most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. It felt like the spring’s first sun—warm, gentle, and comforting. Perhaps even familiar, he would say.

“Now tell me what’s wrong, love,” you said, your e/c falling to rest on his own, holding what looked like concern.

Was he being concerning? At least he must be, for you to look at him as if his puppy just got run over…

‘Safe space, Luke,’ he reminded himself. ‘She knows you too well, she gets you,’

He sighed and nodded, “Well, for starters, Percy’s still unclaimed and will not let the whole ‘where is my dad’ thing go,”

“Baby, he’s 12, of course he’s in shock, he can’t just let things go,” you said.

Of course, Y/n L/n, the voice of straightforward reason.

“I know but…” he sharply let out a breath, trying to find the words which were on the tip of his tongue but were stuck in his throat. “He’s just…he’s not accepting things the way they are. He’s so damn persistent, constantly questioning the way things work.”

You moved closer to him, moving such that you could sit behind him and pull him close to you, letting his back rest against you while your legs stayed on either side. He felt your hands start to play with his curls, fingertips running over his scalp gently.

His whole body tingled, his skin warmed from your touch. Not only was it because you kept your own skin a little warm on cold nights like this but because of how soft you were with him, because of how gentle your touch was. Because he felt a blush creep along his cheeks at the familiarity of the gesture, at how affectionate you were.

“But look, it means that I’m answering questions that no other camper’s asked me before, and I don’t know how I feel about that…unpredictability,” he explained, staring out at the lake. “Plus with day after’s capture the flag and with my training schedule being booked up back to back, I cannot handle those questions because they need time to be thought over and I don’t have that kind of time,”

Your hands in his hair paused as an amused tone came with your words, “…is Luke Castellan admitting to me, Y/n L/n, that he’s stressed? You stressed, baby, is that it?”

He laughed at the way you talked, like he was a child, with that sweet tone, higher pitch, and general air of playfulness.

“No, I’m not,” he protested, looking up at you, a small smile dancing on his lips as he laughed softly.

Gods, his laugh was everything. You enjoyed the rise and fall of it, his deep voice vibrating through your body with how close he was. It wasn’t explosive, nor was it polite. It was just him being a kid, him being himself, unrestrained by the image of a calm and reserved counselor that he had on most of the time.

“That’s a lie,” you smirked, giggling softly, tilting his head back so he could look at you properly.

He smiled a bit, as your finger traced up the line of his scar, and he stuck his tongue out at you jokingly.

“Fine, tell me more. Get it all of your chest,” you winked, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly.

So he talked all his worries away, till the moon rose high and the water stopped rippling. He talked till his throat ran dry and his eyes started to droop as sleep’s staying caress enveloped you both.

“We should get back,” you yawned, feeling him sit up and out of your arms.

He nodded, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Yeah, we should…”

He, as a gentleman, stood up first and helped you up, smiling at you as you dusted yourself off and followed him back through the quiet woods and to the cabins. You looped your hand through the crook of his elbow, resting your head against his shoulder affectionately every now and then, smiling up at him.

The trees weren’t as quiet as the night, nor was the grass, as the crickets chirped softly amidst the foliage, and the leaves rustled with the slightest bit of wind that danced through them.

“Can I bother you for a little kiss before we go back to our cabins?” You asked, standing in front of him at the split in the road which led to the Apollo cabin and Hermes cabin.

Luke thought about it for a moment just to tease you, earning a whack on the arm from your end and a laugh.

“Obviously,” he chuckled, pulling you closer by your wrist, his other arm coming up to encircle your waist, as your head tilted up for your lips to meet his in a soft kiss.

His hand left your wrist to cup your cheek while your arms rested around his neck, holding him such that he stayed down a bit to your level. Your lips moved in sync, the action already a habit with the number of times you both had kissed in the past two years of you both dating.

Despite that, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you so tenderly.

Once air became a problem you both had to pull away, and a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” you smiled, winking at him.

“No doubt, sunshine,” he smiled back, ruffling your hair gently, earning a sound of protest from your end as well.

“You know I hate that nickname,”

“Too bad, sunshine,”

All you could do was roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning back and heading back to the Apollo cabin on soft cat feet, making little noise as you fell into your covers, giggling softly at the ghost feeling of his lips back on yours.

Stuff was better when he was with you.

Hi! I t’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3 the ending is a bit eh but otherwise I hope you liked it <3

[atydblack]

trouvaille

regulus black x slytherin!reader

masterlist

this is part one of an ongoing series! think there will be 3 parts in total &lt;3 no cws as this is gonna be pure angst

Being James Potter's younger sister inquired a lot to live up to. James was the perfect Gryffindor student who succeeded in all his classes, exuded confidence with his every word, had soulmates for friends and an even better girlfriend.

You, however, were almost the opposite.

You were sorted into Slytherin in your first year and although they tried their best to hide it, you could see the disappointment in James and his friends eyes as you walked over to the Slytherin table. Your parents were still accepting but there was some clear favouritism in the family, no doubt. You did well in classes however didn't ever see yourself becoming a prefect like James or being top of any classes.

You sat in potions next to your best friend, Lara. Her straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes opposed my black curly hair and dark brown eyes. You had always been jealous of her, she was the type to catch everyone's eye when she walked into a room while you just trudged in behind her.

"Do you have idea what this question means?" Lara asks you, huffing slightly as she rested her chin in her hand.

"You really think I'd have the answer if you didn't?" You joked. You glanced up at Slughorn who had started dozing off behind his desk and you smirked. "Look."

Lara mirrored your smirk and you both dropped your quills on the desk to turn around and start talking with your friends instead.

"I'm bored out of my mind." Lara groaned to your other friend Freya sat behind you.

"Slughorn says if we don't get these all finished, he's gonna give us all detention until we get them done." Freya rolled her eyes, but you could clearly see that she'd almost finished.

"Have you got the number to 42?" You asked her with wide eyes, trying to sway her in to letting you copy her. "And 43, 44, 45... and the rest?"

"Merlin your voices are retched." A voice came from a couple desks to your right, none other than Enoch Wilkes. He was a tall boy with sleeked back greasy hair and a superiority complex due to his family heritage.

"What's your problem, Wilkes?" Lara shot at him.

"I'm trying to actually do my work but all I can hear is Potter's squeaky voice in my ear." Wilkes replied with a grunt.

"She's just as unbearable as Saint Potter except dumber." Icarus Nott joined in from next to him.

"What did you just say?" You spat, standing to your feet and making your way over to them with your wand gripped tightly in your palm, willing to do anything to stand up for your older brother. There was a third boy sat with them, Regulus Black.

Regulus had always been quiet, however he never failed to be part of the horrid Slytherins who gave your house a bad name and thought they were elite causing them to look down on everyone else. He had only made a few sly comments in past years, but everyone knew his thoughts on muggle blood.

You were also a pureblood, but would never allow yourself to feel any prejudice towards anyone else.

You couldn't deny that Regulus was attractive. He looked a lot like Sirius... however his facial features were softer. His dark black hair fell onto his forehead effortlessly and his green eyes complimented his pale skin.

"You heard me." Nott mocked you, not moving from his seat. You had gained a small audience as everyone's head turned towards you.

"What an embarrassment having a Gryffindor blood traitor for a brother." Wilkes joked, not backing down. "At least Black had the right idea and cut his off, what's stopping you from doing the same?"

"Y/N, sit down." Freya begged from across the classroom, not wanting to get either of you in trouble. "He's not worth it."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." You smirked, holding up your wand and pointing it right at him.

You were closest to Sirius out of all your brothers friends. He had moved in with your family two years ago after he left his family and you'd always been there for him, especially during everything that happened with his brother Regulus. Regulus was clearly a lost soul, strung along on the same ideologies as his parents however he would send letters to Sirius every once and a while but continued to act like he didn't exist at school.

"Leave it, Wilkes." Regulus muttered. Funny this is the first time he had ever attempted to stick up for you and it was only to save his own back.

"What's she talking about, Black?" Nott glanced at him, but Regulus' eyes were set on yours as you stared each other down. You knew you would never actually say anything to expose Regulus as doing so would only hurt Sirius too, but you could sense how scared he was that you'd open your mouth.

"She's a freak." Wilkes chuckled. "Just like her brother."

This sent you over the edge as everything turned red. You dropped your wand to the floor and quickly punched Wilkes square in the nose.

"Olive!" Lara shouted from across the classroom.

You felt a pair of strong arms pulling you back as you attempted to go in for another hit.

"What on earth is going on?!" Slughorn announced and you all froze. You turned around to see it was in fact Regulus' arms that were holding you back and a brush grew on your cheeks. "Black, Potter - sit down at once!"

You both complied, with a guilty expression you made your way back over to your desk and your friends gave you an apologetic look.

"I expect to see you both after class." Slughorn continued.

"But sir-!" Nott shouted, attempting to stick up for Regulus.

"I don't want to hear it." Slughorn quickly cut him off earning a scoff from the boy.

The lesson felt like it took hours to end but you felt slightly ill in your stomach when everyone else was packing up to leave but you and Regulus sat firmly in your seats.

"We'll be in the great hall; I'll save you a seat." Lara smiled at you before her and Freya took off out the classroom and to dinner.

"Both of you have detention with Filch every night after dinner starting tomorrow." Slughorn mumbled, uninterested. You scoffed as you were way too used to detention with Filch now.

When you were dismissed, you quickly stood to your feet and attempted to leave ahead off Regulus to avoid any awkwardness. You began walking down the corridor, ready to rant to James about what had occured.

"Potter!" Regulus called from behind you. You stopped in your tracks and turned on your feet with a confused expression on your face. He approached you slowly and timidly before speaking. "I-uh. I wanted to thank you for not saying anything about Sirius and I."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for Sirius." You mutter before turning back around and leaving him there dumbfounded.

You reach the great hall and make a B line for your brother and his friends. James smirked at you as you approach him with a sour expression on your face before sitting in between him and Sirius, your green robes standing out in the sea of red.

"What's up with you, Y/N?" Sirius smirked before patting me on the top of your head.

"I've got detention again this week." You huff, crossing your arms and leaning them on the table.

"How do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble?" Lily quizzed you, a humorous look on her face that mirrored the rest of the group.

"She takes after me, that's why." James joked but you only rolled your eyes in response.

"Yeah, apart from the brains." You sigh, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. You glanced over at the Slytherin table and quickly caught eyes with Regulus, who must have been staring at you. You kept eye contact for a short moment before he turned his head and acted like it never happened. You furrow your eyebrows and listed your head once again. "At least I'm the better-looking sibling." You continue, causing everyone to laugh.

"Keep dreaming, kiddo." James rolled his eyes.

"Go on then, what did you do this time?" Remus questions you.

"I punched Enoch Wilkes in the nose during potions." You say smugly causing everyone to laugh once again.

"I would advise you that violence isn't the answer, however we can make some exceptions for people like that." Remus smirked.

"Tell me about it, they're horrid." You scoff before stealing some food from James plate. "No offence obviously, Sirius."

"Go ahead," Sirius chuckled. "I had to endure it for most of my life."

[angrygirlromero]

CELEBRTY CRUSH

WARNING: grammar mistakes, suggestive themes!

Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem!actress

Charlie Bushnell hadn’t been a very famous actor, he wasn’t the newest in the movie industry either, yet here he sat on the set of a talk show, a bright smile on his handsome face as the woman who was the host questioned him about his newest role.

The host had just asked him about the beginnings of his acting career, Charlie letting out a chuckle at the question before going on to explain how it had been in the family his uncle was also an actor, and just how much he had enjoyed school plays.

“But it was watching Stranger thing for the first time, so that’s what really did it for me, yeah I thought it was amazing that kids close to my age were acting” said Charlie “oh wow so you were a stranger thing kid then?” Asked the host in amusement, “oh yeah, I was really in love with Maya Byers- well I mean I’m still in love with her, I mean come on a pageant queen in the 80’s with fire powers, that’s gotta be every teenage boys fantasy” exclaimed Charlie with a blush on his cheek.

“Oh it seems that bad boy Luke Castellan has a thing for Maya Byers, well who would’ve thought” laughed out the host as she looked at Charlie in disbelief. “Oh well yeah Aquilia Black is a truly stunning woman” said Charlie with a final smile looking over to the camera.

Aquilia Black sat with her mouth opened infront of her living room tv, the pillow on her lap being squashed with great force as the teenage girl’s face turned completely red, her best friend holding a similar expression upon her face as she sat next to the girl.

“OH MY GOD” exclaimed her best friend with and excited squeal as she turned to her best friend to shake the girl back into reality, “Luke Castellan has a huge crush on you!” Screamed Julia, to which Aquilia winced at her high pitched voice.

Aquilia said nothing as she kept looking back to the screen where the young actor still sat smiling at whatever question the host asked him, “lia did you hear me? The actor of THE Luke Castellan the character you’ve been in love with for the past months just said he’s had a crush on you forever, and you say nothing?” Rambled Julia.

“What do you want me to say?” Asked lia calmly, brushing some of her messy curls from her face. “Lia baby can you give me your phone?” “Why?” “Just give me your phone” lia shook her head, denying her best friends request.

Julia tilted her head at her friend for a split second before tackling her to the ground. “Julia no!” Exclaimed lia from under Julia as the older girl attempted to take her phone form her.

“It’s for your own benefit Aquilia!” “No! It’s gonna cause a scandal!” “I do not care” said Lia as she failed miserably at trying to hide her phone, soon enough Julia had grabbed the phone from the curly haired girl, "Julia no leave it alone."

"Come on I'm just gonna follow him on instagram that's not that bad" expressed Julia as she watched her best friend seated on the cold floor with a worried expression, the older girl taking her time to type in his user @iamcharliebushnell on the instagram search bar and going into his profile to follow back his account.

Aquilia stared at her best friend in defeat, and soon enough Julia handed her back her phone with a sweet smile before bending down to place a Kiss on her friends forehead, "You'll thank me later, my love" whispered Julia before heading to the kitchen of their shared apartment for a snack.

Aquila sat with her phone in her hands her dark green eyes staring at the bright seen, where Charlie's insta profile laid, a picture of him on the beach with the sun setting behind him, and there it said mutuals, she was fucked.

Charlie Bushnell breathed out heavily as he hit the punching bag before him, sweat draining down his face as he balanced on his feet his coach behind him instructing his movments, his phone had been blowing up for the past hour and the young actor had not bothered to check up on it, brushing it aside as Dior spamming him with tik toks or maybe the fandom had discovered another one of his baby pictures.

Since the premier of Percy Jackson, Charlie had grown accustomed to people spamming his accounts and he wasn't complaining, "Hey Charlie take a break, your phone has been blowing up for the past hour you might wanna check that out" suggested his coach with a reassuring smile before walking off to another guy that had been training on the other side of the gym.

Charlie nodded his head in agreement, before walking over to where his gym bag laid along side his water bottle and phone, the actor taking his time to pick up his bottle of water and take a sip from it, his eyes soon falling to his phone that was now buzzing with missed calls from Dior.

And soon enough Dior was calling again, Charlie frowned at this quick to pick up his phone, "Yo Dior what-" "Where have you been?? I've been calling you for the past hour Charlie! have you seen it yet?" rambled out the girl.

Her loud tone causing Charlie to flinch, “seen what?” Asked Charlie in a confused tone, “you’ve got to be kidding me, you haven’t seen it yet, go check your follow!” Exclaimed Dior as Charlie frowned before removing his phone from his ear putting the girl on speaker phone before going into Instagram to check his following.

His eyes widened at the sight before him, @aquiliablack has followed you, Charlie stood in shock, “Bushnell you still there?” Sounded Dior’s voice from his phone’s speaker, “Aquilia followed me?” Asked Charlie in disbelief.

“And we’ve lost him” mumbled out Dior with a smile from one end of the call, “you think that’s good? check her twitter” said Dior to which Charlie took a second to stare at the following notification before he swiped out of the account going into twitter.

He was quick to go to the search bar typing @angrygirlaquilia and surely her account was the first to pop up begging verified.

@angrygirlaquilia Following

I think Maya Byers has a crush on Luke Castellan…

5:35 p.m 11/10/24 2.6M Views

💬 1.3M 🔁 50K ❤️ 1.8M

@AryanSimhadri

no way @cbushnell15 I guess dreams really do come true

@walkerscobell3

I’m getting a new mom? 😧 @cbushnell15

@user189086

no way!!! She saw the interview!!!

@user176348

Bro what

@user11160

There’s no way Luke could pull Maya

@user90856

My parents!!!

Read more…

Charlie Bushnell wasn't sure if he was still breathing, surely he could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his cheeks were flushed red, when he had spoken about how much he admired Aquilia he didn't expect her to actually see it and even make a response.

"Charlie! Charlie! you still there" rang Dior's voice from his phone's speaker as Charlie took his free hand brining it up to his racing heart, he was sure this was a dream come true, Aryan was right maybe dreams do come true after all.

——————————————————————————

Aquilia Black took a deep breath as she stood on set of Jimmy Fallons, The tonight show, not for the first time, but yet Aquilia found herself feeling somewhat nervous, being on his show once again, most especially without her cast mates.

"And here with us tonight we have the stunning, and most talented Aquilia Black with us" Aquilia smiled as the curtains opened before her and the the cameras all turned to face her, all eyes were on her, as she stood in all her beautiful glory, her silky blue dress flowing pass her ankles as she made her entrance.

The teen actor flashed smiles to everyone in the room making sure to wave and greet everyone in the crowd before taking her respective seat next to Jimmy, "Wow it's like every time I see you, you've grown even more beautiful!" exclaimed the proud host, "Thank you Jimmy you flatter me, truly" said the young girl as she blushed.

"I mean when I first met you, you were what? six? my gosh how long it's been, when I first met you, you were a shy little girl seated on Chris Hemsworth's lap" joked Jimmy, and it had been true Aquilia could recall clearly how nervous she had been being apart of the MCU as Thor's daughter, and Chris had insisted to take her to the interview with him.

"Its been that long Jimmy, and you still remain my favorite host" joked Aquilia as Jimmy laughed at her flattering, "imagine and now you're staring in the new game of thrones spin off, everyone I present the Alyssa Targaryen" exclaimed Jimmy, as he carried on asking about her newest role in house of dragon.

"So Lia, seriously talking now, I know you've always been truly honest with me, so now I'm going to ask the question that's been driving the internet insane for the past week, what's happening between you and teen actor Charlie Bushnell?" asked Jimmy as the crowd erupted in teasing cheers.

"Well Jimmy if I knew what was going on I'd tell you but I personally have no idea" said Aquilia with a confused shrug causing Jimmy to giggle at her words, "Are you serious? so let's get this straight Charlie went on national television, admitted to having a crush of you, and you respond saying he has a shot and he didn't shoot his shot?!" asked Jimmy in pure disbelief.

"Well Jimmy I don't see why he wouldn't have a chance, he seems like a nice, good guy, but i think I may have seen the interview too late" said Aquilia with a sad expression, "Oh no a guy can't get over a woman like you so fast sweet girl" Said Jimmy with a sympathy smile before his time was up, "Well ladies and gentlemen that was Aquilia Black, thank you for coming Aquilia!" "The pleasure was all mine, Jimmy, it was nice to see you again, thank you for having me once again."

Charlie Bushnell stood with his fists clenged shut as he watched the interview on his laptop, seated on the kitchen counter of his parents house, a wave of anger, embarrassment, and hurt washing over the young boy as he watched Aquila's saddened face when Jimmy asked her if they had been talking.

Anger that he had been the one to first express his feeling and yet he had been too afraid to even dm the girl, when he had already been given the green light that he had a chance with the girl of his drams, yet he had done nothing so far.

Embarrassment, because Charlie Bushnell was a fool, any man would say that, Aquilia Black was not only a beautiful, successful actress, but a kind girl from respected family, many men would kill to be in his choose yet Charlie had done nothing, he had done his best to put aside Leah and Dior's insisting messages all week long to talk to the girl, along with Aryan and Walker's encouraging messages to finally talk to the girl.

Hurt, because of the sad expression that had been displayed on her face at the sole mention of his name, it could physically hurt him by simply seeing her sad, sad, hurt and confused because of him. So Charlie did the only manly thing he could think of at the moment.

↩️ @aquiliablack> 📞 📹

you replied to their story

Hi

I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for not messaging you earlier, it was a dick move to confess on live television my crush on you and then treat you like that, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on, and I'm so mesmerized by you.

Seen

[lovelywritinglady]

fem! muzan with androphobic reader? (fear of men) It was, at first, an arranged marriage done by her father who doesn't care nor console this phobia so they force reader into it to try and 'make her better' (even though the father is who made such a fear manifest) obviously, he would uh, deal with the father and console reader as fem, you know? i want angst & fluff pls

Women Do It Better

Fem!Muzan x fem!reader

Angst, readers father is abusive, mentions of death, blood, gore. Some fluff and Female Muzan. It's hinted at that reader was sexually assaulted. I added a little more angst than what was originally requested. Triggering topics-mentions of SA and use of slut and other hurtful words. Muzan is out of character.

"Please father don't make me do this! I will do anything else, but please do not make me marry him." You pleated with your father even though deep down you knew he wouldn't listen.

"Shut your mouth you dammed brat. You will do as I say and I will not entertain your hysterics!" He spat grabbing your left wrist so tightly that you were sure that it would bruise.

"No!" You screamed trying to shake your wrist free and grabbing on your fathers hand trying to push it off.

"You stupid worthless bitch!" your father screamed in a raging fury as he slapped you with the back of his hand. You then landed on the ground with loud thump as your cheek stung and tears were streaming down your face. "You will marry this man as he is the only man that has ever given the slightest interest in you. Your body has been tainted ever since you let that boy have his way with you. You're disgusting and I have no idea why this man wants filth like you in the first place." He told you without an ounce of care for what that "boy" did to you in the past. Even though the boy in question was a close friend of his and when you told your father he called you a liar and a slut. He then told everyone that it was the servant boy that he had hired and that you were the one who seduced him. You knew that your father never loved you, but that was the moment you really knew he couldn't give a shit about you. Your fear of men steamed from that and the fact that your father is a terrifying man who has no heart whatsoever.

The next day...

You stood next to your father at the most most beautiful house you had ever seen. It was dark out but the house was well lit. You had a small smile on your face looking at it and the beautiful garden that was out front. You noticed all kinds of flowers that you had never seen before planted and you wondered where they came from. Your smile faltered as soon as reality sunk back in. You looked at your father that had a bored expression on his old and wrinkly face. Your life was about to drastically change and he couldn't care less, not like you were surprised.

"Damn bastard making us wait outside in this damn heat." You heard your father grumble quietly as he crossed his arms.

Just as your father grew impatient, the doors to the magnificent house opened and revelied a man with short curly hair and a hard to lead expression on his face. You got chills looking at him and fear consumed your body as you shook slightly. You father took notice of this and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your injured writs making you finch slightly as you both made your way into the house. As you entered you noticed the smell of baked goods. A delightful smell that reminded you of when your mother was still alive. You felt comforted and your anxiety went down a little.

You and your father followed him into a large living room with a roaring fire that warmed the entire space. You both then sat down on a rather comfortable maroon colored couch as he sat across from you on a large arm chair that resembled his fiery red eyes. There was a gold table in front of you. The space a round you consisted of beautiful paintings of scenes that you had never seen painted before. The walls were a deep red with gold accents on the trim. The flooring was chestnut wood that looked as though it had just been polished. A fire place adorned the space as ebony in color. You were in awe of the space, but you could feel your fathers gaze upon you, so you stopped noticing and kept your head down.

For a little while no one spoke a word. Your father looked at the space with jealousy as this type of living would never be his reality even after the money he would receive after essentially selling you to this strange man. Just then, a thin woman who looked rather sickly entered the room carrying a tray of the baked goods from earlier as well as tea for the three of you. She placed the tray down turning to the man with the fiery red eyes and bowed deeply, slightly shaking as she did so. She then left without making a sound and the whole situation made you shake just like that woman. Silence still consumed the space until your father got aggraviated and spoke in his booming voice.

"So are we gonna get this buissness over with? I've got better things to do than to stick around this brat any longer." He said in a gruff tone as he stared directly at the strange man.

"Yes, I suppose you would have nothing to do." The man responded.

"Whatever." Your father huffed cleary annoyed

"I am Muzan Kibutsuji, I am to be your husband." Muzan spoke, ignoring your father.

"I'm y/n l/n, It's nice to meet you sir. You have a lovely home." You complimented him doing your best to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you, I hope its to your liking as this is where you will be living." He told you, giving you a small smile.

"Thank you sir." You spoke softly

"Now on to important business. I have the documents here to for you to sign Ms. L/n, and I have already signed myself." Muzan declared handing over the documents to you.

You took the documents, placing them neatly in front of you. Taking the capped pen in your dominamt hand you held the pen on the line. Your hand was shaking as your uneven breaths didn't go unnoticed by your father and Muzan. Your father scowled at you as he leaned in pinching your side making you yelp quietly.

"Sign the damn paper girl." He snapped quietly letting go of your side. This terrified you, and you ended up writing out your name in sloppy letters. You then quickly capped the pen and put it on to op the documents. Your father sighed sharply, snatching the papers off the table giving them a scan. "Even your handwriting is shitty." He commented scoffing as he handed the papers back to Muzan. Your father grew impatient as he tapped his foot rather loudly. "Alright Mr. Kibutsuji, I'll be leaving her with you now. I trust the money has been sent to my house." You father rudely spoke as he stood up and began leaving.

"Yes, the money should be at your residence now." Muzan responded as his gaze never left yours. It was almost as though your father was an afterthought and you were the main attraction.

"Good." your father said back walking out the enormous door until his figure was not seen nor his footprints heard.

You contuniued to sit in your place as the fire was startuing to go out and the moon hit its peak as it shone throughout the room. You felt as though time itself was scared to move. Muzan kept his bleeding red eyes you. You couldn't help but stare back at him. You were terrified of the opposite sex, however, this man here seemed gentle, almost kind. Even still, he terrified you and you were scared that he would treat you the same as your father did. The silence ended as Muzan asked you an interesting question.

"What are you scared of?" He questioned suddenly leaning in as he asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but what do you mean?" You asked him not understaing why he would ask you such a strange question.

"It's a simple question, Y/n. What are you scared of?" He asked once more. With a flash he wa ssuddelnly in front of you.

"How did you do that?" You asked with slight apprehension in your voice.

"Answer the question y/n." He demanded in a soft voice as to not scare you.

"I.." I paused staring into his beautiful eyes. "I'm scared of my father and any man.." You told him now terrified that you just told him the very thing he can use against you.

"Thank you, close your eyes and do not be alarmed." He told you and for some reason you did just as he told you. However, tears left you eyes as you closed them. You them felt a cold but soft hand wipe them away. You felt soothed slightly but your heart was pounding heavily.

"Now, y/n, open your eyes." He spoke and once again you did. To your absolute shock, he was now a woman? Muzan had graceful hair and his face was angelic. She wore a traditional kimono with jewels and ribbons adorning his garments. You began crying simply because Muzan was the most beautiful thing you had ever witnessed.

"You're crying, why is that. Aren't you less afraid of me now that I'm in this form?" Muzan spoke as the depth of his voice remained unchanged. However, she sounded as though she was offended.

"No, I'm not scared, but how did you do that?" you reassured as a bright smile appeared on your face for the first time in many years.

"I am a demon and can change my form to whatever I like." Muzan spoke.

"My mother told me about demons and how they eat people. She told me that some of them are beautiful, but that some of them are horrible. How the sun can kill them and how strong and dangerous they can be." You told Muzan not realizing that you might have spoken out of turn.

"Yes, demons are beautiful and I am the strongest among them. We do in fact consume humans and the more we consume, the stronger we are." She told you as you continued to trace every detail of his meazmurizing face. The fear you thought you should have never appeared as you felt as though you had been around demons all of your life. She seemed to notice that you weren't scared.

"Aren't you scared that I might eat you?" Muzan questioned

"I'd prefer not to but if you were to, there would be nothing I could do." You told her honestly as the power gap between you to is unimaginable.

"You're quite right I could." Muzan commented as she flared her piercing fuchsia red eyes. "However, I would never eat one so precious." she added which shocked you to say the least.

You were so distracted by her and her strange words, that the most important question seemed to pop in your head only now. "So why did you want to marry me? My father told me that it was you requested to marry me and offered to pay for my hand in marriage." You asked him now realizing the importance of the question you had just asked.

"Your blood of course. It has rare and quite special indeed, not many humans have it. Which means you are a unique and rare creature indeed and someone I need by my side at all times." She told you looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, even though you couldn't recognize the look at all.

"I didn't even know my blood could have ever been important." You said, mostly to yourself.

"What is it you want most in the world?" He asked you

"To be happy." You responded honestly

"What would make you happy then?" She continued. You took a bit of time to think as you had never thought about how to be happy. You knew that there were many things you wanted to do, but you decided to tell her the first thing that popped in your mind.

"I never want to see my father again." You told her hoping that maybe just maybe she could make that happen.

"As you wish." She responded rather simply and you felt like a bag of rocks was lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a breathe of relief and could tell that Muzan was someone of their word as you had been around numerous men that weren't.

"Thank you." You whispered to her

"I will call the maid to take you to your room. I trust you might be comfortable having your own space. In the meantime there is buissness that I must address." Muzan spoke and as soon as she did she was gone.

A few moments later, the same maid that you saw earlier made her way in. Her quiet nature remained unchanged as did her facial expressions. She quietly gestured for you to follow her, and so you did giving her a smile of gratitude as you did. Your new room wasn't too far from the living room. However, this room was a tiny bit smaller and had a fireplace of its own placed on the very center of the room. There were two large windows on both sides of it adorned with maroon colored drapes. The windows themselves had a sort of black tint on them and you assumed that it was because of the danger of the sun. The bed lay to the right of the fire place and you swore it was the biggest bed you had ever seen. The bed sheets were also red and you could tell they were velvet. There were many tapestries that hung in the walls that depicted all kind of different scenes. Mostly containing images of demons. However, some of them contained botanical scenes that fluttered your heart a little because of their unique beauty.

"Did Mr. Kibutsuji decorate this room?" You asked the maid as she stood in the doorway.

"Yes miss, he has particular taste but your room is yours and the master has told me that you may decorate as you like." She spoke in a soft voice. "Thank you, may I ask your name?" You asked her as you deemed it rude that you only call her maid. "Yes miss, it's Ms. Fujimita, but you may call me whatever you feel fit to." Ms. Fujimita told you.

"Wonderful, thank you. I think I might sleep now." You told her as you could feel the tiredness start to consume your body.

"Yes miss, goodnight." She spoke closing the doors as she left.

The closets that were located to the left of your bed opened up and it felt like you had two rooms. The space was massive and rows and rows of clothes were occupying the space. You remember your father telling you that you didn't need to pack anything and you just assumed that you would be wearing the same clothes over and over again. How wrong you were. You wanted nothing more than to browse, but your eyes betrayed you. You then saw some sleep clothes that looked comfortable and quickly took your clothes off and put them on.

You leaped into the bed letting your body mold with the mattress. Soon enough you fell into a deep slumber listening to the sounds of the fireplace crackling. Suddenly, you felt the bed shift and your body jolted up. A scream left you and you scrambled further up the bed trying to get away from the figure that dared to sit on you bed. You heard the faint sound of shushing and a voice telling you to calm yourself. You were confused and quite sleepy to fully make out the voice. However, you noticed the figures eyes and knew exactly who the "person" was.

"Hush now y/n and have no fear. You will be happy here now I promise you." Muzan spoke in a comfortable whisper.

"Why, what's happen." you asked frantically still calming down from your panic. Muzan then, out of the blue, lit the oil lamp to the side of the bed. You were then able to see the the full beaiutiful appearence of Muzan. She was still in the female form, however, she was covered in blood but that did not take away the ethereal beauity of her. Still, a chill ran down your spine at the sight of the blood.

Muzan noticed your fear and quickly vanished with a flash. You were stunned to say the least, but it was short lived as she returned only now without the blood covering her body. You felt more comfort by this, but you couldn't hep but wonder whose blood it belonged to and a wave of sadness washed over your figure.

"Whose blood was on your clothes?' You asked hesitantly, however you needed to know. You put on a confident face, doing your best not to seem anxious. You noticed a slight change in Muzan's eyes and you couldn't pin point what it was.

"The blood belongs to someone who has caused you great suffering." Muzan simply said as she moved closer to you. Your heart beat fast as you already knew who it was. Your emotions were all over, but the one emotion that stood out was pure happiness. The thought of your father being dead delighted you and that terrified you. You thought to yourself, "Why am I so happy about this? Why am I okay with feeling this way?" You darting back in forth between your own morals to the point you thought you might go insane. Muzan, nit being the best at human emotion, decided that it would be best to simply hug you, hoping that this would ease your distress, and so he did.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You stiffed in the hug but melted as soon as you smelled the luscious scent of honey and jasmine. You then held her tightly breathing in her comforting scent. To you, it felt like it was an eternity of a hug and to Muzan she didn't seem to mind that you held her like this. She then broke the hug and took your face in her hands. She looked you in your now watery eyes giving your face a small stroke as she spoke.

"You are mine and now you shall be happy that your beast of a father is gone." She told you in an almost happy tone

"Thank you." You whispered still feeling slightly guilty for being happy that your father is dead. Although for most of your life that's all you wanted.

"I'm your husband, so it is only natural that a husband wants to see their wife happy." Muzan spoke honestly

"If you are my husband, then why have you decided to appear as a woman?" You asked feeling uncomfortable at the thought of Muzan being your husband but no problem with her currant appearence.

"Its simply because I know it makes you tolorate me. You may call me your wife it would make you tolorate me more." Muzan spoke taking her hands off of your face and placed them in her lap.

"Thank you, I'd like that. I don't just want to tolorate you, I want to like you considering we will be married." You mumbled slightly nervous that you just made her uncomfortable.

"Good, now get some sleep." She whispered gestering you to get comfortable again. Just as you were about to say it back she was gone. You smiled getting comfortable in your bed once again and feeling genuenily happy for the first time in years.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic!💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog!

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

L.W.L

[fanboyoff1]

Landoscar College Fic (2.4k words)

Inspired by this post. It was supposed to be a little drabble but it spiraled

@complementaryhalves Hope I did it justice. It’s not really a meet-cute since they both know of each other (or maybe that counts, idk how meet-cutes work) but I tried my best lol

Oscar really needs to set a second alarm.

He’s several months into college, so you’d think he’d have figured out a good sleep schedule by then. Unfortunately, that has not happened, and Oscar wakes up to sun on his face.

“Ughhh,” he groans, rolling over and pulling his sheets up over his head. It takes him a few seconds to realize there’s no annoying beeping that usually greets him in the morning.

“Shit.” He grabs his phone from the bedside table and jolts up when he reads 8:25 on his lockscreen. “Shitshitshit.” 

He tosses his sheets to the side, the old mattress creaking loudly as he stands, rushing because his bus is literally about to leave. Why did he sign up for early classes? Why, why, why? Even his professor Mr. Webber told him it was a bad idea once he’d heard about it, but he’d insisted that it would be fine.

Right now, it’s definitely not fine though. He brushes his teeth at lightning-speed in the communal bathroom, and throws on a navy blue sweatshirt and pants, nearly forgetting his watch. He’ll get a bagel or something for breakfast at school.

Thankfully, he likes to pack his backpack the day before, so all he has to do is put it over his shoulders, rushing down the stairs and out the door into the parking lot to see… His bus rolling away down the road without him.

Oscar drops his hands down from his backpack straps to his side in defeat. He curses the ground and his stupid clock under his breath, kicking at a loose rock. What is he gonna do now?

Well, he could call Logan, ask if he can give him a ride. Or maybe Charles drove today? He glances across the parking lot, but there are around three other cars that look just like Charles’, so that won’t be very helpful.

He’s about to pull his phone out when he hears a car pull out of the lot, wheels making a grainy sound against the asphalt. Oscar quickly backs away from the middle of the road and goes back to his quiet crisis.

“Hey, you need a ride?”

Oscar looks up to see the car that had been leaving stopped in front of him. The person behind the voice is a handsome guy with dark curly hair and tan skin, sitting behind the wheel with one hand dangling out the window. There’s a small flicker of recognition in Oscar’s brain, he must have seen the boy around campus before.

The driver seems to have taken Oscar’s silence as hesitancy, starting to talk again. “I-um, I saw your bus fuck off into the distance, and I figured you could use some help. I live right over there.” He points vaguely to another one of the student campus buildings behind them.

Oscar opens his mouth to politely decline immediately, but stops himself. Does he really for certain have another way to get to school? He remembers how he knows this guy now, he’s friends with Charles. Anyone who’s friends with Charles gets an automatic thumbs up from him, but being in a car with them…

“Yeah, I could use a ride,” he finds himself saying, not totally sure the words are coming from his mouth. The curly haired guy seems equally surprised, but masks it quickly. “O-okay. Just come over to the passenger seat.”

Oscar walks out in front of the car, and opens the door. Any move to sit down is paused by the fact that there’s a football in the seat. The boy turns when Oscar opens the door, looking through his eyelashes at him, and his eyes are really blue from up close. A bit of green too- okay, stop analyzing his eyes, he tells himself.

The driver- Oscar decides to coin him Car Guy- notices Oscar’s predicament and grabs the football, promptly chucking it into the backseat and patting the now empty seat for Oscar, who sits.

He twists his body to face the back of the car. “Do you think you damaged anything with that throw?” he asks, trying to find the football amongst the clutter of the car. There’s a few random clothes, a cardboard box on the right.

“Eh, it’s fine,” Car Guy says with a wave of his hand. Oscar turns back to the front, buckling up. Car Guy notices what he’s doing and buckles up himself with a guilty smile. Oh God, Oscar’s totally going to die.

“Just college campus, I assume?” Car Guy asks, adjusting his rear-view mirror that has a car freshener and a necklace hanging from it. The necklace has a big 4 hanging by the end. 

“Yeah,” Oscar sets his backpack down between his legs, and braces when Car Guy starts to drive away. However, he actually seems like an okay driver, despite that seatbelt incident that may haunt Oscar’s nightmares. 

After a few streets, he chills out enough to get a proper look at who’s driving him. He has a Texas Bulls shirt on, a hoodie under it, and to top it all off, a green letterman jacket with the number 4 on it. Huh. 4 again. Maybe the number 4 has some kind of significance to him. 

He’s really pretty as well, especially up close. His long lashes, his freckles, his hair that looks like it's attempting to be a mullet. 

Don’t you dare fall for a jock Oscar, he tells himself. Because that’s what he has to be, right? He has a Bulls shirt, a sporty jacket, and a freaking football in the passenger seat. There’s nothing else he could be.

And he’s still terrified about a stranger driving him somewhere, pretty or not. He takes out his phone and pulls up his messages, finding his last conversation with Dad 2.0 (an inside joke the two of them have.) He frantically texts Charles, asking, ‘Is curly haired boy a serial killer??’

A moment later, he gets a response back, a lot of question marks. Oscar sighs, running his hand through his hair and trying not to let his thoughts spiral into how he may or may not be getting kidnapped.

# # #

Lando’s trying to be cool. He really is. But Oscar’s in his car. He wants to squeal and kick his feet and giggle.

He’s had a crush on the Australian-born boy for a while now, ever since he’d seen him actually. They’d just been passing by each other while walking across campus, but it felt like a world-changing event for Lando (okay, he may be overreacting just a little, but have you seen the man?!)

Once he learned that Oscar was friends with Charles, he came out to his friend as bi and proceeded to spend his entire time with Charles ranting about how pretty Oscar was, or what Oscar was wearing today, or could he get some pictures of Oscar pretty-please?

Needless to say, the Monegasque was tired of his pining fairly quickly. “I don’t understand why you do not just talk to him,” he’d said one day during their lunch break.

“I can’t just talk to him, Charles.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s weird!”

“How? It’s just talking,” Charles had retorted, biting into his protein bar. “You can say it’s because you are both friends with me or something. There are ways.”

“Well, it- it’s complicated.” Charles raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have a good argument for that Charles, but just know that you’re wrong.”

So Lando had just watched Oscar from a distance (not in a creepy way or anything, just in an adoration way.) Until this morning, when he saw Oscar miss the bus, which was admittedly a little funny, he’d gotten the courage to ask if he wanted a ride. He hadn’t been expecting him to say yes, but he was ecstatic that he had.

Now they’re in the car together, and Lando’s tongue feels like lead whenever he attempts to make small talk. Oscar’s aggressively texting someone, and Lando has had to stop himself multiple times from looking at Oscar instead of the road.

Oscar sighs, running his hand through his swoopy hair. Now’s his chance. “Everything okay?” he asks, drumming a finger against the steering wheel as he waits behind a stop sign.

“Hmm?” Oscar looks up, raising his eyebrows, and Lando might die on the spot. “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I was just texting a friend. You know Charles, right?”

“Leclerc?”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, letting out a breathy laugh. “I was gonna ask him to drive back and pick me up but… Well I don’t know if you know this, but Charles likes to jog to school sometimes. I wasn’t sure if he had today or not.”

Lando barely processes what he’s said, which feels extremely rude even in his head. But Oscar’s smiling and it looks so cute, and the way his voice changes as he’s trying to stifle a laugh is addicting. “Oh, I think I’ve heard him talk about jogging to class sometimes. One time he texted me at like 6 am, I was so confused when he told me he was at school already.”

Oscar laughs again, and Lando tries to stop the butterflies growing in his stomach. “Ha, yeah, he’s like that. I think he just likes to be early.”

“I know, but 6 am??” 

“I’m not defending him!” Oscar says, throwing his hands in the air, the two of them laughing together. Lando feels joy spread through his chest, because Oscar seems more comfortable, he’s smiling and laughing and blushing and he looks so cute.

“Oh my gosh, I have this selfie of Charles he sent to me when he was on a run,” Oscar turns on his phone and started to scroll through his photos, eyebrows furrowed in determination. His hair droops down on his face, and Lando fights the urge to reach out and push it back.

After a minute or so, Oscar bursts out laughing. “Did you find it?” Lando asks. Oscar nods, shoulders shaking, and holds his phone out for Lando to see. It's perfect timing, they're stopped at a red light, so Lando turns his head to inspect the picture.

Charles has a headband and glasses on with no shirt. He must have been running when he took the picture, everything’s blurry and the background is just a mass of green and gray. The most noticeable thing is his face. He’s trying to wink, but it’s more like a squint, and his eyebrows are high up on his forehead. He looks partially like he ate something sour, and like he’s getting chased by a wild animal.

Lando snorts, and Oscar pulls the phone back. “I know right? Apparently, he took the photo and sent it to me without checking what it looked like, so now I have this treasure saved in my phone forever.”

# # #

They spend the rest of the car ride in silence, and Oscar regrets thinking Car Guy was someone scary or a jerk. He seems really sweet and funny. And he’s attractive. But that’s besides the point.

Charles had been blowing up Oscar’s phone ever since his vague text about Car Guy, most of it consisting of ‘who the hell are you with’ and ‘answer your phone, you’re freaking me out.’ Oscar replies to his flurry of messages with nvm. It's fine. I’ll explain later

“Is this a good place to drop you off?” Car Guy asks him, and Oscar’s head jolts up. He parked just a few minutes away from his first class.

“Oh yeah, this is perfect,” Oscar grabs his backpack and opens the car door. “Thanks for this,” he says, turning back.

“No problem,” Car Guy says with a smile. He’s got a little gap between his front teeth. “See you around?”

Oscar gives him a thumbs-up and steps out, walking down the winding sidewalk to Mr. Webber’s class in room 222.

Epilogue

Oscar still needed another alarm. He just kept forgetting. And now he was running late again, this time far too late to even try to catch the bus.

He sits on the parking lot curb, about to call Charles (he’d taken his car today,) when a familiar voice calls out to him.

“Dude, you really need to wake up earlier.”

Oscar gives Car Guy a withering glare. He leans back in his car in response, a look of barely concealed fear in his eyes. “Well, do you want a ride or not?” 

Oscar sighs and stands, getting in the passenger seat. “No football this time,” Car Guy says with a grin. Oscar can’t help but smile back.

This car ride is a lot less talkative than the last one, a playlist of Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus from Car Guy’s phone playing loudly. Oscar puts on an excellent act of pretending his ears aren’t bleeding from the music.

“Thanks again,” he says once they arrive at his stop. He gets his backpack and is about to leave when Car Guy speaks up.

“Hey um, I was wondering if maybe you could repay me by going on a date? With me?”

Oscar blinks once, twice. Car Guy obviously takes this the wrong way, his face reddening. “Never mind. Just… forget I said anything.”

“No,” Oscar says. “I don’t want to forget that. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” Car Guy says, his eyes lighting up. “Okay, here’s my number.” He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a folded Sticky-Note, pressing it into Oscar’s hand. Oscar wonders if he feels the electricity when their fingers touch too.

“Uh, this is gonna sound weird,” Oscar says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But can I get your name?”

“Oh. OH. My name’s Lando.”

“Lando,” Oscar says, testing the word on his tongue. “I’m Oscar.”

“I kinda already knew that,” Lando giggles, and now it’s Oscar turn to blush. “You look cute when you blush.” His face gets a thousand times more red.

“OkIgottagoI’lltextyoubye,” he says, almost stumbling out of the car. Once Lando’s car drives away though, he allows himself a bit of a victory dance, before walking to class with a skip in his step and only one word in his mind. Lando, Lando, Lando. 

Okay I kinda hate it 😭 But I don’t really wanna work on it more, so *tosses fanfic at the Tumblr gods and runs*

[bookwormjust]

A Quiet afternoon with the IC ? (established relationship with Cassian, caring for Nyx, child always listening to the little voice in their head)

The late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the House of Wind, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The Inner Circle had gathered for a casual afternoon together, the room filled with laughter and conversation as everyone enjoyed the rare peace. Feyre was perched on the couch beside Rhys, her eyes soft as she watched their son, Nyx, toddling around with you.

You were seated on the floor, your long, curly hair tumbling down your back as you helped Nyx with a little craft project. He was fascinated by the small pieces of paper you had folded for him, making them ready for him to use like a pretend chisel. Cassian, who sat nearby with a fond smile on his face, was watching the scene unfold, his love for you evident in the soft glow of his hazel eyes.

Nyx was a bundle of energy, his tiny hands grabbing at the paper with excitement. You laughed softly, explaining how to use the paper pieces while his bright, wide eyes stayed locked on your long hair as it cascaded down your back. He was a curious child, always reaching for things and exploring the world around him.

For just a second, your attention slipped away as Mor leaned in to speak with you, something about the latest gossip in Velaris catching your ear. You turned to her, your focus on her story, and in that brief moment, Nyx, with his little hands and even smaller scissors, snipped a strand of your long hair before anyone could stop him.

A collective gasp echoed through the room as a few loose curls tumbled down onto the floor. Nyx’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done, and you could feel the weight of the silence that fell over the group. Everyone froze, Feyre’s eyes widening in shock as she prepared to scold her son, but before she could say anything, you glanced down at the strand of hair, then at Nyx’s face—his expression a mix of confusion and guilt.

Cassian, sitting nearby, stiffened, his jaw dropping slightly in disbelief. He loved your long hair—he always said it was one of his favorite things about you. But before anyone could react further, you did something unexpected.

You smiled.

“It’s okay,” you said gently, picking up the scissors from Nyx’s tiny hands, your tone light and calm. “Nyx, do you want to keep cutting?”

Everyone stared at you, wide-eyed, as you handed the scissors back to the little boy with a warm smile. Cassian’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as you leaned forward, offering your hair to Nyx again. "Go ahead," you encouraged softly. “Just like before.”

Nyx hesitated for a moment, unsure, but at your gentle nod, he snipped again, and then again. Slowly, more curls fell to the floor, and soon, your once long, luscious hair was now uneven and much shorter.

The tension in the room was thick, but you remained calm, determined to turn this into a learning moment. As Nyx’s small hands dropped the scissors, he looked up at you with wide, apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, clearly realizing what he had done.

You smiled warmly at him, picking him up and pulling him into your arms. "Thank you, Nyx," you said softly, ruffling his dark hair as you spoke. "You did a great job! You’d make an amazing hairdresser one day. But," you continued, your tone shifting to a more serious but still gentle one, "it’s really important to ask first before you cut someone’s hair, okay? You have to make sure they’re okay with it. It’s not kind to do it without asking, even if you're trying to help or have fun."

Nyx’s little face scrunched up in thought, his lips pouting as he processed what you were saying. “I understand,” he said, his voice small and sincere. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”

You hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his head. "It’s okay, little one. We all make mistakes. And look," you said, pulling back and giving him a playful grin, "I look pretty cool now, right? Do you think I’m still beautiful?”

Nyx’s face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "You’re always beautiful!" he said with the earnestness only a child could have.

Your heart warmed, and you pressed another kiss to his head before setting him down. He toddled back over to Feyre, who gave you a grateful, relieved smile.

Cassian, however, looked utterly devastated. His mouth was still slightly open, his eyes flicking between you and the pile of your hair on the floor. "Your hair," he mumbled, almost whining. "Your long, beautiful hair... it's gone."

You chuckled softly and walked over to him, your uneven haircut bouncing with each step. Cassian reached out to pull you into his lap, his large hands immediately threading through the shortened strands. "I can’t believe you let him cut it," he muttered, his brows furrowed. "Now my hair is longer than yours."

You laughed, running your hand through his longer locks playfully. "I’ll grow it back," you reassured him, leaning into his chest. "But Nyx learned something today. And besides," you teased, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, "I think I still look good, right?"

Cassian’s eyes softened as he gazed down at you, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "You always look good," he murmured, brushing a thumb along your jawline. “Even with this short hair. But... I might miss the old length.”

You grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "I’ll grow it back," you promised again, your voice full of warmth.

Rhysand, who had been watching the entire situation unfold with a smirk, shook his head. "You handled that beautifully," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "Much better than I would have."

Feyre laughed softly, relieved that the tension had broken, and Nyx, now back in her lap, looked at you with nothing but adoration. "Thank you for being so patient with him," she added, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I think we’ll stick to paper crafts from now on."

As the conversation resumed, the weight of the moment lifted, and the warmth and laughter returned to the room. Cassian’s arms remained securely around you, his chin resting on top of your head as he mumbled something about how he would never let you near scissors again.

But even with your new, uneven haircut, you felt nothing but love and contentment. You had turned a chaotic moment into something positive, and more importantly, Nyx had learned a valuable lesson—and Cassian would just have to live with your short hair for a while.

And judging by the way he kept kissing your temple, it wasn’t so bad after all.