#I tried a new brush for this but got frustrated so I'm not using it again

[houseofheroesau]

*hug attacks Time*

He doesn't like being startled

[logaenhowlett]

THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN HER HANDS - L.H.

Summary: After months of watching you relentlessly try to gain control of your powers, Logan finally takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff - so much damn fluff, Slight angst, Language

A/N: Suffering from writer's block on a plot-driven angsty Logan fic so I wrote this to focus on something else. Shout out to End by Frank Ocean. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“You’ve been going at it for hours.”

His voice makes you pause, shifting your concentration to the man leaning against the door frame. Logan watches as you swing your head down, possibly frustrated by his interruption.

“Professor said I’d get better at this,” You swipe the sweat off your face, grabbing your drenched shirt as it clings to your skin, “It’s been months and I'm nowhere near strong enough.”

He huffs in amusement, he would often catch you in moments like these, tiring yourself hour after hour till you were exhausted enough to finally pass out. It reminds him of his early days at this place. Young and eager to prove himself to everyone here, that he was capable of being good once again.

“Old man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” A measly attempt to shut down your self-deprecation, he knows nothing will convince you otherwise, that much he learned over the last few times he tried reasoning with you. When you shoot him a questioning glance, he relents, raising his hands up in defense. “Alright. But you’re not doing any good wearing yourself to the bone.”

“I just want to be like Storm and Scott and you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, the bar ain’t that high.” A teasing grin shining as he approaches you, the annoyed expression on your face does little to stop him. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He chuckles at your confusion, wandering dangerously close into your personal space. “I wanna show you something,” He murmurs.

Flirting isn’t a new concept to him at all. Though you never get used to his attempts, always brushing it off with the assumption that it’s just a game.

“Logan - I need to keep practicing.” You take a few steps back, creating a little distance from his very distracting presence. “It’s the only way I’ll get better at controlling this.”

“Okay.” He drags out, “You can still keep doing this when we come back.”

As you contemplate his request, he knows he has you convinced, a grin tugging on his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

When he leads you to the mansion's garage, you recall all the times he'd whisked you away from moments of misery and fatigue. He seemed to have this innate ability to know when you're in over your head, too absorbed into whatever you were doing to take a step back and relax. A tinge of embarrassment creeps into your thoughts, feeling bad for him to constantly keep checking in as if you were incapable of knowing your limits. Fuck, I'm a mess. You snap yourself from going down the negative route, shifting your focus to Logan, a chuckle escapes you.

“You know he hates it when you steal his bike, right?”

He swings a leg over, revving the engine. The sound seems to unintentionally comfort you, your mind having subconsciously associated it with him. Despite Scott being the owner of vehicle, he rarely saw it since it was Logan’s choice of transportation. Fucking dickhead, he used to curse up and down, unwillingly giving up after Charles reasoned with him one too many times. You remember the entire ordeal, having to intervene during one of their many childish fights when Scott attempted to blow up Logan’s ass.

“I’ll fill up the tank.”

“No, you won’t.” A short laugh leaves you as you wrap your arms around him.

He flashes a smile, tilting his head back to ensure you’re properly seated. “No, I won’t.”

You hardly pay attention to his driving, instead mindlessly watching the scenery zip past. It wasn't the first time Logan had taken you on a ride. In fact, after the initial fear, you had grown fond of this time you got share with him. A quiet and peaceful journey where you could turn your restless mind off and simply enjoy each other's company. An unspoken vow of trust had always lingered between you two, which was something he cherished more than he could ever express. He smiles softly at the weight of you resting on his back as the breeze encompasses around you.

“How’d you even find this place?” You ask, sliding off the seat as he kicks the stand.

“Used it for shelter during that snowstorm a while ago. The bike gave out on me.”

You hum in response, spinning on your feet to look around. It's an abandoned gas station that had definitely seen better days. Despite all the damage and vandalisation, it was an oddly interesting location, a lake nearby overlooking lush fields. Nothing in Logan's expression gives away his intention of bringing you here. He slowly steps backwards, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips and when he's a decent distance away, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Use your power, sweetheart. Don’t be scared, you can do it.” It's rather encouraging and not at all akin to his usual cocky tone.

“Logan - what, no!” You exclaim, finding his proposal ridiculous. “I’m not - I can’t even fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

He scoffs, amused you could even suggest such a thing, “Well, you’re gonna have to control it, aren’t ya?” When you make no attempt to try, his gaze softens, “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, channelling your focus to create a ball of energy between your hands. Despite being small, it hits him with enough force to push him back a few steps. A groan leaves him as he clutches his stomach, you shift to run towards him but he lifts his hand, making you stop.

“Again. Don’t hold back.”

This time you think of Charles, remembering all the lessons and training sessions you've had with him. Where you had always doubted yourself, he had constantly reassured you and your ability to control your gift. The ball of energy grows more between your hands, crackling with intensity. Using all your might, you aim at Logan once again, hitting him square in the chest, thrusting him back several feet, the impact denting the ground in the process. He stands up feeling a bit lightheaded, though that sensation disappears as he flexes his muscles, grateful for his healing factor.

“I did it!” You laugh in surprise, running to him.

His arms immediately wrap around you, slightly lifting you off the ground. “You did it,” He says with a faint smile, taking in your satisfaction.

Caught up in moment of finally making progress, you notice the lack of space between Logan and you. And suddenly, his hands on your waist, his tender expression, it all becomes too much, making you pull back. “You’re insane. That could’ve gone so wrong,” You spit out, trying to relieve some tension.

“I trust you.” He whispers, softly.

Your body seems to be on fire, everything about this begins to overwhelm your senses. With a shaky breath, you try stepping away from his gentle grip.

“Why do you always run from me?” His words still your movements. His eyes can't seem to find yours, instead settling on the charred ground beneath him, "I know… you feel this too.”

“I’m - I don’t…”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I won’t run away.” He approaches you, giving you the space to reject his advances. ”I promise.”

When you don't respond, he hangs his head low, accepting your decision. “Let’s go home,” He mumbles.

As you walk down the hallway to your room, you can't seem to shake the urge to run back to him. You take a moment, hand grasping your doorknob before you spin around. Within seconds of knocking on his door, he swings it open catching your distinct heartbeat on the other side.

“Logan - I just…” The words die on your tongue. Every little feeling you'd held for him comes rushing forward. As he stands there, growing concerned for your wellbeing, all you can think about is kissing him till the air leaves your lungs.

“You okay?”

That's enough for you to slam into him. You grab the collar of his white shirt, pulling him down. Your lips find his own, slowly moving against the soft flesh. It takes him less than a second to comprehend what's happening before he reciprocates your actions.

You tilt your head back, inhaling his comforting scent. He continues peppering kisses on your face, unable to stop once he finally got a taste. “I'm sorry, I was scared. I am scared,” You whisper.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.” He murmurs against your lips, “If you let me.”

Your smile sends flutters to his heart. His low chuckle echoes within you as he leans down, capturing your lips with a hunger he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember. When your moan teases his senses, he lifts you with ease, one arm securing your waist and the other gently stroking the underside of your thigh. He lowers you down onto the bed, noting your exhaustion from earlier. Sliding right next to you, he presses a light kiss on your temple, pulling you into his warm embrace. A silent promise that he'll never let you go.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect

7.1k words

18+ only

Warnings: brief alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos, oral sex [female receiving]

Summary: A Ravenclaw prefect catches Fred's eye, but she's not as easy to seduce as he had thought (slow burn, jealous ex, jealous Fred)

----

You stepped into the courtyard with your friends, taking in the autumn air. The leaves were finally turning the burning red color that you loved so much. It reminded you of someone.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Cho asked, nudging your arm. You had drifted off into your own thoughts while admiring the scenery.

"Of course, of course. You were talking about your Herbology exam," you replied, linking arms with Cho. She frequently complained about your "dreamy" tendencies, scolding you for having a wandering imagination. 

Your group continued through the courtyard, almost making it across to the next set of doors until a roar of laughter rippled through the students dotted around the courtyard. You turned to the commotion, finding the Weasley twins huddled around something on the ground.

As a prefect, it was your job to investigate things like this. And knowing the Weasley twins, it was best to interrupt whatever prank they had going on. 

The boys heard the clacking of your Oxford shoes on the stone path, turning to you as you approached. Both wore their usual grins, full of mischief and pleasure in whatever they had just done. You looked to the ground, finding a pale blond ferret on the stones by their feet.

"Now, what are you two up to?" you asked, crossing your arms in an attempt to appear intimidating.

This only caused Fred's grin to widen. "We just thought that Hogwarts could use a new pet."

"And who exactly is this pet?" you asked, bending down to pick up the ferret. It looked up at you, and you noticed that it had remarkably blue eyes.

"I think we should call him Mal-ferret. He makes a bloody cute critter, doesn't he?" George replied, tickling at the ferret in your hands.

You gasped, realizing who was in your hands. Draco Malfoy.

"You turned Malfoy into a ferret?! Are you bloody insane?" you asked, your voice raising in frustration and disbelief.

The boys only chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying their prank.

"Turn him back right this instant!" you demanded, placing Malfoy back onto the ground. "Don't make me get Snape, you gits!"

Fred grumbled, the smirk still playing at his lips. He loved when you got angry. And when you bossed him around.

George pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, turning the ferret back into a human. Slowly Malfoy's features returned as he grew back to his normal size. 

"I'm telling my father about this!" he fumed, staring up at Fred. The ginger towered over him, making Draco's threats rather ineffective.

Malfoy stormed off into the castle as the students in the courtyard laughed. The twins laughed along with them, still very pleased with themselves.

"When will you two learn..." you shook your head at them, taking out your notebook. "That's 20 points from Gryffindor."

Fred exhaled, reaching for your elbow as you recorded the point deduction in your notebook.

"Come on, little bird. You don't have to be that harsh," he said, his voice sounding like honey as he tried to convince you to change your mind.

You looked up at him, being sure to make direct eye contact. "Flirting with me won't change your fate, Weasley."

George chuckled behind him, and Fred's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He straightened his shoulders, preparing to respond.

Fred leaned in, his nose almost brushing your ear. "If I were trying to flirt with you, darling, it would be a bit more obvious," he said, his voice low.

His breath tickled your neck, causing goosebumps to form. Your words caught in your throat and you almost choked. Heat rose in your cheeks, and you balled your fists in an attempt to regain control.

"You don't have an effect on me, pretty boy," you replied, spitting out the last two words. Your eyes locked, and you glared at him. Your heart began to pound as you held eye contact. His perfect hazel eyes bore into yours, the corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. The look in his eyes was almost...lustful.

Your jaw locked as your stubbornness kicked in. He was not going to win this. 

Fred took a step back, his hand reaching for the end of your braid and twirling it. "I'll see you at the Quidditch match tomorrow, birdie."

His sickening smile remained on his lips as he turned to George, walking back toward the castle doors. You let out a breath and hustled over to your own group of friends.

It was too late for you. Fred had noticed the color in your cheeks. The way you were fighting for control. It was in that moment that he knew he had to have you.

Fred had always liked you. You had several classes together over the years, and you were kind to him and his brother. You tutored him in Potions during third year, and you weren't as stuck-up as your fellow Ravenclaws.

There was something so tempting about you. Your "good girl" persona mixed with your unshakable attitude. It was like a drug to Fred, and now that he knew that he could make you weak in the knees, he was going to exploit it.

By the time you made it across the courtyard to your friends, your entire face was bright red. "Let's go inside," you insisted, hurrying out the words as you pushed towards the doors.

You had barely made it inside before your friends were asking questions.

"What happened?" Cho asked, sounding genuinely confused. "The way Fred was looking at you was...intense."

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to calm yourself. You had always thought that Fred was cute, but his reputation as a player had kept you away. You'd talked to him before in passing, but never like this. It was an adrenaline rush to stand your ground against him. Holding power over him felt...addicting.

"The twins just...they were just being gits. And Fred is always...you know Fred. He's defiant," you replied, your sentences smashing together as you attempted to compose yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" Cho asked, running a hand down your arm.

"Yeah, just...didn't expect Fred to talk back to me. It's not usually that difficult to take House points away," you said, attempting to explain away why you were so flustered.

"But the way that he was looking at you..." Beatrice chimed in. "He looked....I don't know. I've never seen him like that."

"He's just being Fred," you said, trying to dismiss it. "Let's go to the library, I have mountains of homework."

Your group headed towards the library, finding your usual table and settling in. You tried to work on an essay for Muggle Studies, but you couldn't focus. Your thoughts kept wandering back to Fred and his hazel eyes burning into yours. The way his breath felt on your neck. His fingers twirling your hair.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. You knew that Fred was a flirt. He had quite the reputation with the girls at Hogwarts, and he did not have a hard time finding a date. He was probably just messing with you. It was nothing, and you scolded yourself for replaying the scene in your head over and over again.

----

Fred and George were lounging in the Common Room, finding anything to do instead of their homework. Fred was sketching in his sketchbook while George conjured and disintegrated flowers over and over again.

"What was your deal earlier today with that prefect?" George blurted out, breaking the silence in the room.

Fred turned to him. "What do you mean?" he asked, acting confused.

"You know exactly what I mean, you git. You were toying with her," George said, disintegrating another clump of flowers with his wand. 

"I wasn't toying with her," Fred said, seeming defensive. "I just...wanted to see if she would actually take the points away."

"Sureeeeeeeeeeee...." George replied, obviously doubtful. "You were flirting with her. In front of the whole courtyard, mind you."

"That was not flirting," Fred scoffed, focused on his sketchbook.

"What are you drawing?" George asked, getting up from his place on the couch to look at Fred's sketchbook.

"Nothing," Fred said, holding the sketchbook tight to his chest. "It's none of your business."

"Oh come on, Fred. Get off it. Show me the bloody sketch," George said, holding out his hand for the sketchbook.

Fred huffed, reluctantly handing it over. George took hold of the sketchbook, turning it so he could see the sketch. On the paper was a replica of your face. Fred had perfectly mimicked the stubborn fire behind your eyes.

"Oh, so you obviously don't fancy her," George mocked, still staring at the sketch.

"I never said that I didn't fancy her," Fred said. "I only said that I wasn't flirting with her."

"Where is this even coming from in the first place?" George asked. "We've known her for years and you just now fancy her?"

Fred shrugged. "I've always thought she was nice. Not as insufferable as some of those other Ravenclaws. But...I don't know. Something is different now. She isn't falling over herself for my attention."

"Oh, so you like her because she's a challenge?" George replied, his voice mocking. "That's endearing."

"Shut it, you prat. I can't explain it. She's just different. She's confident, and she's smart, and she doesn't back down. Most of the girls at Hogwarts aren't like that," Fred explained.

"The only girl here who knows how to talk back is Ang, but she's mine," George chuckled. "Interesting that we both like a strong-willed girl. Must be a twin thing."

Fred socked his twin in the arm, taking his sketchbook back. "You're being an arse."

"Never thought you'd fancy a Ravenclaw. They seem a bit too bookish for you. And how do you even know she fancies you too?" George rambled.

"I'm not sure if she does, but I can change that," Fred said, a smirk crossing his features. "I'm going to get her to come to the match this weekend. She'll be mine before the weekend is over, you'll see."

----

Students were buzzing at breakfast on Saturday morning. It was the day of the big Gryffindor vs. Slytherin quidditch match, and everyone was nervous with anticipation for the face-off. You were somewhat indifferent to quidditch, but you usually went with your friends for something to do on a Saturday afternoon. It gave you a break from doing homework in the library.

You had just taken another bite of toast when someone tapped on your shoulder. You put the toast on your plate, turning around in confusion. Standing behind you was none other than Fred Weasley. A grin was on his lips and his hands were behind his back.

"Yes, Weasley?" you said, slight irritation lacing your voice. You had finally gotten him to stay out of your thoughts, and now here he was again.

"I wanted to make sure that you're coming to the match today," he said, a certain sweetness in his voice. "And I wanted to give you this."

Fred pulled a scarf out from behind his back. It was his Gryffindor scarf, adorned with his house colors, crest, and initials. You stared at it in disbelief as it hung from his hands in front of you.

"Uhm...okay," you replied, sheepishly taking the scarf from him. A blush was starting to form on your cheeks. This was quite the unexpected move from Fred.

"If you're going to cheer for me, you need to be wearing my colors," he said, giving you a wink. This did nothing to calm the redness of your cheeks. You racked your brain for a snide remark to shoot back at him.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Weasley, but if this is you trying to mark your territory, I don't want it," you said, finally regaining your resolve.

His eyes softened, making your stomach flutter. Damn it.

"I'm not marking my territory, birdie. I just wanted a pretty girl to have my scarf. You're my lucky charm today," he replied, cocking his head to the side in a way that gave him a boyish vibe.

You huffed in response, reluctant to accept his answer. Before you could make another snappy reply, Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I don't mark my territory with a scarf, darling," he whispered, his voice low enough to give you chills. "I can show you later if you'd like."

You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw. You were not going to let Fred Weasley know that he could make you flustered. He can make any girl at Hogwarts swoon, but you were determined to not be one of them.

Fred backed away, a devious smirk on his lips. "I'll see you in the stands, birdie."

Fred left the Great Hall as if nothing had happened. You sat there trying to catch your breath, irritated at him for getting you so wound up. He was infuriating. But for some reason, you liked it.

----

You settled into the stands with Cho and Beatrice. Fred's scarf was in your backpack, and you were still debating on whether or not to wear it. 

"Come on, just put it on! It's cute that he gave you his scarf," Beatrice said, nudging your shoulder with hers. "Fred is adorable. All of the other girls are going to be jealous."

"Bea, Fred is a troublemaker," Cho replied. "He doesn't have the best reputation, and I wouldn't want to get mixed up in that if it were me. Wearing that scarf is just going to bring unwanted attention."

You had been stewing over this ever since breakfast. Now you knew that Fred's flirting wasn't just your overactive imagination or wishful thinking. It was real. You had to decide what to do, and you weren't quite sure of his intentions. 

"Wait, I have an idea," you blurted out, getting up from the stands before Beatrice or Cho could reply.

Your feet carried you to a place that you had been many, many times before. The Slytherin quidditch team's locker room. 

You had dated Adrian Pucey for most of last year, and you used the locker room as a place to hook up after hours. The breakup was relatively amicable. Adrian wanted to get more serious, and you were too focused on passing your O.W.L.s. You parted ways on good terms, but you knew he would be willing to get back together if you asked. 

You knocked on the locker room door, and Draco was the one to answer.

"Yes?" he asked, half-dressed in his uniform.

"Can you get Adrian for me?" you asked, crossing your arms as you leaned against the door frame.

Draco shut the door. It opened a few moments later, but this time it was Adrian.

"Hey," he said, taking in your figure in the doorway. He always looked at you like that. A mix of lust and admiration. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," you replied, inching closer to him. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course, love," he said, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

Part of you felt guilty for this. Toying with Adrian was totally unnecessary, but you wanted to get under Fred's skin in the same way that he got under yours.

"Can I wear your scarf today?" you asked sweetly. "For old time's sake? And for good luck. I'm rooting for you."

"Anything for you," he replied. "I'll be back with it in a moment."

You huffed a sigh of relief as he turned back into the locker room to fetch the scarf. You had worn it to all of his matches last year, cheering for him from the stands even though you didn't understand all of the rules of quidditch.

Adrian returned to the door with his scarf, handing it to you.

"Thank you," you said. "I'll give it back after the match. You're going to be great."

You leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at you in the same way that he always had. It made your heart hurt in a way, but you were motivated by vengeance. 

You made your way back up into the stands to sit with Beatrice and Cho. You sat down, weaving Adrian's scarf around your neck.

Beatrice gasped. "You're a masher! Adrian's scarf!?"

You smirked, pleased with yourself. "Adrian and I are still friends. He deserves to win today."

Cho groaned. "You're digging your own grave. Fred is going to be insufferable when he sees you. And leading Adrian on? That's just dodgy."

"I'm not leading him on," you said, feeling defensive. "I just asked to wear his scarf for good luck. I didn't promise that we were getting back together."

"Whatever," Cho replied. "You're making your own mess."

The conversation came to an end as both teams entered the pitch. The crowd cheered as the players lined up on opposite sides of the pitch, awaiting their introductions. 

As the announcers began, Adrian's eyes found yours. You shot him a thumbs up, and he nodded at you with a small smile on his face. It was just like old times, and a pang of sadness shot through you.

From the moment that he stepped onto the pitch, Fred immediately clocked the scarf that you were wearing. The silver and green. Slytherin crest. The "AP" stitched onto the bottom of it near the fringe. He felt like his blood was boiling. 

He watched the interaction between you and Adrian, noticing the way that Adrian looked at you. You still had Adrian wrapped around your finger, and that pissed Fred off. He loved competition, but he loved winning even more. 

You finally dared to look at Fred and instantly regretted it. His jaw was locked in anger, and his eyes were burning into yours. Your stomach dropped for a moment, taking away the feeling of victory you had. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Before you could process the wave of emotions hitting you, the match had begun. You watched in anticipation, as Fred was now more determined than ever to bring home a win for Gryffindor. 

You chattered with Cho and Beatrice to try to calm your thoughts. What was Fred going to say to you after the match? You were wringing your hands in nervousness, dreading the interaction that you knew was going to come later. 

The crowd erupted into cheers as the announcer declared that Gryffindor had caught the Golden Snitch. You were on your feet in seconds, watching the Gryffindor team fly to the ground and pile onto each other in celebration. 

You felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You were sure that Slytherin was going to win. Everyone was predicting that. This victory was unexpected, and you knew that it would give Fred another reason to gloat.

The teams lined up to congratulate each other, a practice that was required by the school because of past instances of bad sportsmanship between the teams. They high-fived each other, muttering "good game" before moving on to the next player.

Fred had finally reached Adrian. "Good game, Weasley," Adrian conceded through tight lips.

"Thanks Pucey," Fred replied, slapping Adrian's hand in a somewhat friendly high-five. "Is that your girl up there?"

Fred nodded to where you were standing with Beatrice and Cho in the crowd. Adrian's scarf was still wound around your neck, and you were playing with the fringe on the ends.

"Um....not anymore," Adrian admitted.

You were watching Fred and Adrian from your place in the stands. Seeing them converse made you feel uneasy. Especially when Fred began smirking. The look on his face was nothing short of diabolical.

"That's too bad," Fred said. "She looks cracking in that scarf. But I think she'd look even better with my hands around her neck."

You couldn't make out what they were saying, but the next thing you knew, Adrian's fist was connecting with Fred's face. It took only seconds for the other players to begin hollering and beating on each other.

The professors hurried into action, herding the spectating students toward the castle and attempting to break apart the fighting players. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Why would Adrian hit Fred?

The more you thought about it, the more you were able to paint a picture of what likely had happened. Fred has a smart mouth, and Adrian has a quick temper. It's a lethal combination.

----

You were stood in front of your mirror, fiddling with the skirt that Beatrice had lent you. She insisted on going to the Gryffindor victory party tonight. She had her eye on Oliver Wood, and she refused to go alone.

Parties weren't usually your scene. You had gone to a couple of Slytherin parties last year, but you hadn't stayed for long. You were usually only there long enough to take a few shots of firewhiskey, talk to friends, and would leave with Adrian to hook up.

Because of this, your wardrobe was not fit for a Gryffindor victory party. Some girls showed up in not much more than a bra and short skirt, while others opted for tying up their uniform tops and jeans. Beatrice was kind enough to let you borrow an outfit, but it made you self-conscious nonetheless.

It was only a plain black skirt and cropped cami. Nothing fancy, but you felt unlike yourself. Your day to day outfit was your uniform, and even then you paired it with preppy Oxfords and frilly socks. Nothing that screamed "sexy". You grabbed for your oversized flannel that you usually wore on the weekends, deciding that an extra layer would help your comfort level.

"Babe, you need to relax," Beatrice said, peering into the mirror on her desk to put the final touches on her lipgloss. "It's just a Gryffindor party. And you can leave once I have Oliver in my clutches."

"I know," you said, sounding defeated. "I just...Fred is going to be there."

You caught Beatrice's eyebrows raise from the reflection of the mirror. "Oh, so you're getting all worked up over Fred?"

You huffed. "No! I mean...he's just...he's going to be mad about the scarf."

"He's probably too knackered from the match today to care," Beatrice replied. "And from the beating he got from Adrian."

A lightbulb clicked on inside your head. You had forgotten to return Adrian's scarf. It was in your book bag. You reached for it, pulling out the scarf.

"That reminds me that I have to return this to Adrian," you said, turning towards the door. "I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes, I promise."

Before Beatrice could answer, you had already whirled out the door and down the stairs. You were headed for the Dungeons.

You still knew the passcode to the Slytherin dormitories, so getting inside was no problem at all. You made your way into their common room, finding Adrian on the couch with several of his quidditch teammates.

Your cheeks began to burn when he looked at you. It felt like he was devouring you with his eyes. He gulped, sitting up from the couch to greet you.

"Hey, love," he said, walking toward you. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yes, sorry," you said, feeling suddenly sheepish. "I came to return your scarf as promised."

You held it up to hand it to him, and he grabbed the other end, using it to pull you closer.

"You look....I don't even have words," he muttered, sending a lightning bolt down your spine. His hand found its way to your hip, and you felt squirmy under his touch. "Where are you headed?"

"Uhm...I'm going to the Gryffindor party with Bea," you admitted, pulling away from him. "She wanted support in her mission to get with Oliver Wood."

Adrian chuckled and let out a huff. "She's always up to something. Are you planning on spending any time with Weasley?"

"Adrian..." you started.

"No, you need to hear this. What he said about you," Adrian said, anger rising in his voice. "That prat sees you as nothing more than a good shag."

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling nervous. "I can make my own decisions, Adrian," you said softly, feeling small.

"I know, love, but I don't want you to get hurt. He's a prick. He gets bad marks. And the way he talks about girls? Disgusting," Adrian spat out, shaking his head.

"I'm not going to the party for Fred, I'm going for Bea," you said, hoping to soothe his frustration.

"He's just...I don't like the idea of him being anywhere near you. What he said about you today....he deserved that black eye," he grumbled.

"What did he say?" you finally asked, your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He said something about my scarf. How you would look prettier with his hands around your throat," Adrian said, sounding disgusted as the words came out of his mouth.

Your face felt like it was on fire. What was Fred thinking? Anyone who knew Adrian was well aware of his temper. A remark like that about you was a surefire way to get beat up.

"I...you know Fred. He was probably joking," you said, trying to brush it off.

"No. The look on his face...he was dead serious. Nobody gets to talk that way about you," Adrian replied, his fists balling at his sides.

"Adrian," you said, reaching out to touch his arm. "I promise you that I can take care of myself. I can handle Fred. He's just being a git, that's nothing new for him."

"I know, love," he sighed, melting into your touch. "I just worry about you. You know that I care."

You nodded, retracting your hand from its place on his arm. "And I appreciate that. But I can stand my ground. Beatrice will be with me the whole time, and once she's off with Oliver, I'm going to go back to my room. I will be okay."

This seemed to calm him down, as he finally unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Be safe," he said, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

You turned back toward the entrance to the common room, making your way back up to Bea's room. It had definitely been at least 15 minutes by now, and she was likely getting antsy waiting for your return.

----

You and Bea stood on the fringes of the Gryffindor common room. It was packed with students with cups in their hands. The music was loud enough that you thought the lights would start shaking. 

"Let's get some shots," Bea said, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the makeshift bar set up near the fireplace. 

She picked up two shots, handing one to you. "Down the hatch," Bea said, taking her own shot.

You followed suit, grimacing at the burning sensation that followed. You had never enjoyed firewhiskey.

Bea occupied herself by looking for Oliver. You saw a tall ginger mingling with a group of other Gryffindors, and you couldn't quite tell if it was Fred or George from your view of the back of his head. 

"Looking for me, darling?" a voice said from behind you. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his chest.

You turned to face him. His freckled face was marred with a black eye, the bruise extending from underneath his eye to the top of his cheekbone. Adrian must have hit him pretty hard.

You winced as you took in the injury, imagining that it had to hurt. "What, am I really that ugly?" Fred asked in a teasing tone. 

You stared up at him with a tight-lipped expression, crossing your arms. "It sounds like you deserved that black eye," you remarked.

Fred shrugged. "My words had their intended effect. Is Pucey still fuming?"

"You are such a git," you said, irritated at his lack of maturity. "I know what you said."

"Birdie, it's nothing that I wouldn't say to your face," he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

"Stop calling me that," you replied, feeling angrier by the second. "I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm not an object. Now piss off."

Fred was taken aback by your words. His little game had gone too far.

"Darling, I didn't mean--" he started, reaching for your arm.

"I mean it Weasley," you said, your voice raising in volume. You shoved his chest, forcing him away from you. "Piss off."

Before he could get in another word, you had stormed off to find Bea. She had to be here somewhere.

In your mission to find Bea, you stumbled into Angelina. "Sorry, Angelina," you said, nearly knocking her drink out of her hand. "Have you seen Bea?"

She shook her head. "Last I saw her, she was with Wood. I haven't seen them in a bit, though."

You mumbled a thank you and continued your hunt. If she was off somewhere snogging Oliver Wood, you would be pretty impressed. That would be record time for Bea. 

You went up the stairs toward the dormitories, determined to find your friend. You began knocking on doors, hoping that Bea was behind one of them. You didn't want to leave until you knew she was safe.

One of the doors was cracked open, and you knocked. Nobody answered, so you peeked your head in. 

Someone was sitting in the dark, their head in their hands. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized who it was. 

"Fred?" you called into the dark room, your voice soft.

The figure picked up its head. "Yes?" he replied, his voice quiet and full of despair.

You entered the room, closing the door behind you. You pulled out your wand, muttering "lumos" before going any further.

Fred was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees. As you got closer, you noticed his face. It was puffy and red as if he had been crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked, sitting criss cross on the floor in front of him.

He shook his head, clenching and unclenching his jaw. You sat there in silence for a few moments before he swallowed, finally answering. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quiet enough that it sounded like a whisper. "I didn't mean...you're not...I'm just so sorry."

You looked up at Fred. There was a softness in his eyes that you had seen a few times before. It was genuine. He looked absolutely gutted. 

"Why are you sorry?" you asked, carefully prodding at him for answers.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like....like some sort of object," he said, sounding embarrassed. "You're not. I don't see you like that. I've been messing with you, but I took it too far. And I'm sorry."

Your heart pounded in your chest. You had never seen Fred this vulnerable. And you had never heard him apologize before. 

"You're just...I thought we were both toying with each other. I liked it. The way you talk back to me, your stubbornness. I love that about you. But making you feel like I only see you as someone to shag...that's not what I intended. That's not how I feel," he continued. 

"Fred," you said, sitting up on your knees. You reached for his hand, holding it for a second before he pulled away. 

"I really do like you. I am so sorry that I made you upset," Fred said, locking eyes with you again. "You don't have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. You deserve better."

You stood up from your place on the floor. You parted his knees, standing directly in front of him. He looked up at you from his place sitting on the bed, nothing but softness in his gaze. He truly was sorry, and you knew it. 

Your hand found its way to his cheek, your thumb stroking his cheekbone that was bruised purple. You swallowed hard.

You leaned down, your lips meeting his in a whisper of a kiss. It was gentle, it barely even felt like your lips met at all. But you forgave him. This was your way of showing it. 

You pulled apart, but your gaze still held. "I forgive you, Fred," you whispered, your hand still on his cheek.

A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Not a mischievous grin like usual, but a genuine, kind smile. One filled with adoration. 

Fred was like putty in your hands. His tough exterior gave way to a person who was sensitive and kind. You had seen glimpses of that before, but never like this.

You finally knew how he felt about you. His feelings were genuine. And you were willing to trust him if he continued to be this vulnerable in front of you.

"I do quite enjoy teasing you," you said, smirking down at him.

"I knew it," he replied with a small chuckle, his hand lightly touching against your hip.

You were still stood between his legs, quite a precarious position. You knew exactly where you were going to go from here.

You shoved him back onto the bed, and he let out a "hmph" of surprise. Before he even got a word in, you were on top of him, straddling his torso.

Fred's eyes were wide with surprise and his brows dipped in confusion. "I thought you were sorry," you said, your voice dropping lower than usual, sounding almost sultry.

"I am," he said, still confused.

"Then prove it," you challenged him, placing a hand firmly on his chest.

Fred grinned up at you. Now you were on the same page. "Are you sure about that, darling?" he asked.

"Did I stutter?" you replied, a slight sharpness to your voice as you looked down at him.

His grin widened. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he teased.

In a matter of seconds, Fred had flipped you onto your back and pinned your hands over your head. He looked down at you, obviously very pleased with himself.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, locking eyes with you.

You gulped. "I don't want you to."

Fred leaned down to kiss you, your hands still pinned firmly above your head. He shifted so he was holding your wrists with only one hand, using the other to trail up your side.

The kisses started off slow at first, but they quickly gained in pace as Fred felt you squirming underneath him. "Impatient, are we?" he said between kisses.

You only groaned in reply, fighting against him to gain control of your hands again. His free hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer into him. You wrapped your legs around his torso, begging him to be as close as possible.

His kisses migrated down to your jaw, then to your neck. He sucked a few love bites into the base of your neck, and you were dreading explaining those to your roommates in the morning. 

Fred was relishing in the tiny moans that were escaping from your mouth. He knew that you were desperate, so he was determined to take his time. 

"Freddie, please," you said, your voice almost sounding like a whine.

"Oh, so I'm Freddie now?" he teased, kissing along your collarbones. He alternated between kissing and nipping at your sensitive skin, and it was driving you insane.

"If this is your way of apologizing, I don't forgive you," you teased back, squeezing your thighs around his midsection. Fred chuckled.

"What would you like then, birdie?" he asked, suddenly sounding sweet and innocent. His eyes found yours, and your voice got caught in your throat. You wished he didn't have that effect on you.

"Let me think..." you replied, trailing off in pretend thought. "Most people I know apologize on their knees."

Fred's eyes changed, the playful glint being replaced by a competitive fire. His trademark smirk crept across his face, and you knew you were in for it.

"Alright then," he said, finally releasing you. He backed off of the bed, standing on the floor in front of you.

Fred grabbed you by the backs of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed in one fluid motion. You giggled in reply, surprised by his sudden movements.

"I meant to tell you, this outfit is cracking," he said, tracing his hands down your thighs. A bolt of lightning ran down your spine, and you arched off of the bed. "I think you could lose the skirt, though."

Fred looked to you for permission, waiting for you to nod before he drew your legs together and tugged at your skirt. He pulled it all the way off, folding it before putting it on the floor.

"You're folding my clothes at a time like this?" you joked, trying not to feel embarrassed as you lay on his bed in only your top and knickers.

"You don't strike me as someone who likes creases in their clothes," he replied, pulling your legs open and kneeling on the floor. "You're a prefect, for Merlin's sake."

"Don't remind me of that while I'm half naked in your dormitory," you scolded him, playfully knocking at him with your knees.

"You're a good girl, I like that," Fred commented, brushing his hands on the outside of your thighs. He placed a kiss next to your knee, slowly kissing down your inner thighs. 

You tried to even your breathing, frustrated at how worked up you were over just some kisses. You were no stranger to sex, but this was something different altogether. Fred made you feel like your skin was on fire. 

Fred had finally reached your knickers, kissing along the waistband. A whimper escaped from your lips, and he looked up at you.

What a vision. Fred Weasley, cheeks flushed, lips pink, staring up at you with lust-filled eyes from between your legs. Your heart was beating so fast that you knew he could feel it too.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" Fred asked, his fingers playing along your waistband. 

"Freddie....please," was all you could manage to say. Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He pulled at your knickers, bringing your legs together so he could take them off. Instead of folding them like your skirt, he simply tossed them to the side.

"Will you tell me if you want to stop?" Fred asked, becoming serious for a moment. 

"Yes," you replied, reaching down to cup his face. You could still make out his freckles from the glint of your wand light. He was simply perfect.

Fred kissed your wrist, then kissed along your thighs once more. Your breathing became more rapid in anticipation of where his mouth would go next.

You could feel his breath on you. His lips finally made contact with your center, your hands gripping at his ginger locks.

He licked at your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. You moaned, your fingernails digging into his scalp.

It took him only moments to find his groove, causing moans and swears to fall from your lips as he worked you closer to your release.

"Freddie," you breathed out, tugging at his hair. He groaned into you, making your back arch even further off of the bed.

You bit your lip, trying to fight off your orgasm. Finishing this quickly felt like letting him win, and you couldn't have that. 

Fred could feel the tension building within your body. His hand reached up to find your cami, snaking underneath it. He expertly located your nipple, playing with it with his fingers. His mouth never left you for a second.

Your body finally gave in, tired from resisting the pleasure. Your hips bucked lightly off of the bed, a mix of "fuck"s and "Freddie"s leaving your mouth.

Fred worked you down from your orgasm slowly, finally leaving your clit to put a few love bites on your thighs. Your chest was heaving, and you were trying to find the words to say to him.

"So fucking gorgeous, birdie," he said, his eyes burning into yours. 

You moved backwards on the bed, motioning for him to join you. He got up from the floor, laying on the bed next to you.

"Do you forgive me now?" he teased, turning on his side to look at you.

"Hmmm...I'll need to consider it," you replied, grinning at him. 

Fred had been in control, but now it was your turn. You pushed at his shoulders, turning him so he was laying on his back. You straddled him once again, but he looked less surprised this time.

"You really love being in charge of me, huh?" he joked, his hands stroking at your sides. 

"It's only fair, Freddie. I am a prefect, as you so graciously reminded me," you said, propping your hands on his chest. 

"Okay, madam prefect. Are you going to give me detention?" he said, rolling his eyes at you as he grinned.

"You wish. An hour with me in a classroom? Sounds like a scene from your dreams," you teased. 

You leaned down to kiss him, hands still on his chest. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in closer.

A loud knock on the door interrupted your kissing. You and Fred scrambled apart, and you had pulled on your skirt in a matter of seconds.

Fred went to the door, cracking it open. "Is she with you?" a voice asked, sounding a lot like Beatrice.

You came up beside Fred so Beatrice could see you in the room. She looked you up and down, taking in your messy hair and crooked clothing.

"I...um, I was just coming to tell you that I'm going back to the dormitories," Bea said, obviously shocked at the sight in front of her. 

"Okay, I'll come with you," you said. "I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes."

Bea nodded, turning and heading back toward the common room. Fred shut the door, and you looked for a mirror. You found one, attempting to tame your hair and straighten out your clothes.

"Perfect prefect doesn't like to get caught hooking up with troublemakers, does she?" Fred asked, half teasing and half serious.

"Fred," you said, turning to face him. 

"No, I get it. Not good for your image, or whatever," he said, busying himself with straightening the covers on his bed. 

"Freddie, look at me," you commanded, your voice edging between soft and authoritative.

He turned to you, his face unreadable. 

"I like you Freddie," you said, taking a few steps toward him. "I'm not worried about my image. Yes, I'm a prefect, but I don't have a broom up my arse."

Fred chuckled. You took the last few steps, finally standing in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pulling him into a hug. Your head rested perfectly against his chest, and his hands found their way into your hair. 

"I'm sorry for antagonizing Adrian," Fred said, talking into your hair. "I know that he still loves you. I shouldn't have used that against him."

"Yeah, not your brightest idea," you replied, face still buried in his chest. "Adrian will understand eventually. He won't like it, but it's not up to him."

"Godric, you're sexy," Fred said, squeezing you tighter.

You laughed. "What was that for?"

"You don't let anyone tell you what to do. It's bloody irresistible," he replied. 

"You're included in that, you know," you said.

"Oh, I am very aware," he chuckled. 

"I have to go home with Bea," you said, slowly pulling out of the hug. "See you around?"

"'See you around'? That's the best you've got?" Fred joked, kissing the top of your head. 

"You wouldn't like me if I weren't hard to get," you replied, standing on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips. 

You turned and opened the door, glancing over your shoulder at him.

"I will never stop pursuing you, birdie."

----

Link to next part

[m4rv3l-girl]

Sergeant Swoon

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N finds something that leaves her lover a little bit flustered….

Requests Open!

Warnings: references to sex

He hadn't planned on stopping by the living room on his way to the kitchen, but something about the sight of Y/N curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and half-asleep, barely watching TV, was impossible to resist.

He detoured silently, the soft padding of his feet almost silent as he slipped onto the couch next to her.

"Hey, Doll," he muttered, smoothing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded as she turned her head to look at him.

"Hey, Sarge," she mumbled back, the words sleepy, almost automatic. Bucky went rigid at the name but Y/N didn't notice, her attention already drifting back to the show.

He didn't budge. His fingers halted in mid-air, paralyzed, while he blinked at her. Sarge? Of all the nicknames she'd ever used, that was a new one. And a dangerous one, apparently, because all of a sudden his brain snagged on it.

Y/N, oblivious, didn't even catch on that anything was wrong until Bucky went completely silent.

He wasn't a man that ever got this still unless something was wrong. Around her, he was typically easy-going, always teasing or touching her in some small way- her hand, her knee, the brush of his lips on her temple. But now, he was just. tense.

She sat up a bit straight, turning into him fully. "Everything okay, Sergeant Barnes?" she tried again, this time making it playful.

Bucky's jaw clenched. His face colored slightly as his blue eyes darted away, clearly caught off-guard. He was never this fidgety unless something really rattled him.

"Uh. yeah," he muttered, avoiding her gaze as his metal hand scratched the back of his neck with an awkwardness.

Y/N's eyebrow shot up as she was instantly interested. Bucky rarely got ruffled, and when he did, it was always over something good. This had potential. She scooted closer, her curiosity piqued.

"You sure?" she teased lightly, leaning in with a smirk. "You're acting a little weird, Sarge."

There it was again, that same stiff reaction. His whole body tensed, like she'd hit a nerve, but not in the bad way. More like the I-don't-know-what-to-do-with-this-information way.

"Doll…" Bucky's voice came a little rough, so he cleared his throat with strain. His gaze flicking toward her for a moment - he looked back at his hands, which were now resting awkwardly in his lap. He wasn't quite sure what to do with them either. "I—uh—yeah, I'm fine."

She leaned in closer, now fully invested in his weird reaction. "You don't seem fine. In fact," her lips curving into a grin, "I'd say you seem a little…flustered."

Bucky's lips parted, and for a moment, he looked like he might deny it, but the slight flush on his cheeks betrayed him.

She leaned forward, delicately brushing her fingers over his knee. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it's something like…" she paused dramatically, her voice dropping into a low, teasing tone, "you really like when I call you Sergeant."

That did it.

Bucky's head whipped to her, face now bright red. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, which was very unlike him. For a guy who'd survived wars and outsassed Tony Stark on multiple occasions, this was new territory.

Y/N's eyes shot wide, and she gasped softly, realization dawning on her. "Oh my god. You do like it!

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, letting out a frustrated sigh as his face colored impossibly red now. "Doll…"

But she wasn't going to let him off that easily, her own surprise betrayed in her tone. "Oh my God, You do, don't you, Sergeant? It turns you on!"

Bucky swallowed hard and tried to regain some control of the situation, but her teasing was relentless, and frankly, he was too flustered to fight it off effectively.

"Maybe," he grumbled, barely audible.

Y/N beamed, finally having the time of her life now. "Well, isn't this interesting… I didn't know my tough Sergeant Barnes liked it when I—"

"Alright, alright," he cut her off, his voice strained. "Yes, okay? I… kinda like it." He rubbed his hand over his face, clearly embarrassed. "Happy now, Kitten?"

Her smile gentled into something a little warmer, a little more affectionate. "I'm so happy now," she said, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek still warm from the blush she'd managed to coax out of him. "It's cute."   "Cute?" Bucky repeated, finally looking around at her. "That's what you go with?"   "Adorable," she amended, trying not to laugh.

He groaned, the edges of his lips pulling into a small, pleased smile. "You're annoying,”

She leaned into his side, settling her head on his shoulder. "Maybe. But you love it."

Bucky wrapped an arm around her, tugging her in close. "You're lucky you're my best girl, or I might've found some way to punish you for this."

"Oh?" Y/N smirked, her head falling to the side so she peered up at him. "And how would you do that, Sergeant?"

Bucky's eyes darkened slightly, his body leaning in close as his voice dropped low and rumbled against her ear. "I've got a few ideas, Doll. I’m sure I could get you flustered real quick. Like…I know for a fact you get wet when I-”

"You-, uh…y'know what," she stammered, quick to get up her feet to flee his gaze, "I think I'm gonna go… make some tea or something. You want some?"

Bucky fell back on the couch, eyeing her in a satisfied smirk. "Tea sounds great, Kitten. But don't think you're off the hook. We're definitely gonna finish this conversation later."

Y/N was storming toward the kitchen, her heart racing, face heated, and she could hear him chuckling softly behind her.

Oh yeah. She was in trouble. And she kinda liked it.

[grapementos]

walk away as the door slams

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: heavily! toxic relationships, emotionally abusive (gaslighting, etc.), angst.

pt 2 here.

bakugo isn't the same person he was in high school. he grew into a top five hero and opened his own agency, only to be brutally torn apart by the tabloids.

scandal after scandal, you watched him crack. like glass, he grew more and more fragile each time he was made out to be a monster, an asshole, a douchebag--whatever other name was thrown out there.

each time, you were there to comfort him and stand by his side against every rumor and generalization. still, it scared you as you watched his resolve weaken. it was as if he didn't see the point in being a hero anymore.

then came the headline, the article that had him hanging up his gauntlets in exchange for civilian life. the article had an incriminating photo of him holding up his hand to a child. of course, it was taken out of context; bakugo had merely been guiding the child away from the rubble of the building near them.

however, the media ate it up, and bakugo decided that being a hero wasn't worth the false allegations. he announced his resignation the same day and rid the entire house of hero news.

it broke your heart to see him give up his dream, so you'd tried and failed time and time again to talk him out of it. you even invited midoriya and kirishima to persuade him to become a hero again, but his mind was made.

he'd since picked up a new, low-brow job that kept him out of the public eye. with that, unfortunately, came stress regarding bills, grocery shopping, and necessary budget cuts. it was a huge adjustment, one that led to frequent arguments.

you worked from home, so you were able to keep it clean and cook meals for the most part. you tried so hard to keep your home a place where the two of you could coexist happily, but he always came home with an unfulfilled look in his eyes.

truth be told, you were exhausted, but bringing it up just made bakugo frustrated, so you avoided the subject. instead, you'd ask him about work, only to be brushed off.

it hurt.

"katsuki," you called from your spot at the table, finishing up some work, "what do you want to eat tonight?"

"dunno." he grunted, walking out of your shared bedroom.

"right. so helpful." you sighed, looking at your laptop once more, "do you have a general idea? or do you want to cook?"

"i just got home from an 8-hour shift." he looked at you like you were dumb, eyes narrowed, "can you lay off with the million questions?"

"it's a simple question. i need to know if i have to defrost anything." you shut your laptop a little harder than necessary, "i work too, you know."

he laughed bitterly but didn't say anything.

"what?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"oh, nothing. just thought it was funny, is all."

"what's so damn funny?"

"you, sitting on a laptop all day. 'working'," he used air-quotes, opening the cupboards.

"really? you wanna go there?" you closed the cupboard he was looking in, cheeks flushed with frustration.

he stared at you, jaw clenched, "can you move?"

"can you stop being so damn mean?"

"god, i'm not being mean." he shook his head and opted for digging through the fridge instead, "y'just being too damn sensitive."

you took in a deep breath, red hot anger beginning to boil up in your gut and through your hands all the way down to your fingers.

"stop digging through the fridge when i'm trying to talk to you, please."

he didn't even spare you a glance, pulling out the last cold water bottle.

"katuski." you demanded, louder.

"my god, what?" he slammed the fridge closed, leaning back on the counter, "as if i don't get nagged enough by my boss."

"i'm not nagging you. i'm," you stammered, trying not to escalate the situation into an argument, "i'm trying to see what you want for dinner. that's all."

"just make whatever. i'm not hungry anyways." he tossed the plastic bottle into the trash, plopping down at the table.

you rubbed your temples, trying so hard to maintain your calm, "okay."

-

the two of you were sat across each other at the kitchen table. you ate something quick you'd whipped up, finally breaking the silence, "they're considering me for a promotion. it's a pretty significant payraise, and i think i--"

"god, are you fuckin' kidding me?" he interrupted, eyes suddenly aflame.

"what?" you cocked your head, confused at his sudden irritation.

"you just love rubbing that shit in my face, huh? you're always talking about how you get paid more than i do, how work is so great, and now this? great job, breadwinner."

"katsuki, we're partners, we both contribute to this household no matter what. i'm not the... breadwinner." you insisted, pain blooming in your chest, "i thought you'd be happy for me."

"like you were so happy for me to quit that hero gig? so you can get all the glory of supporting us?"

"is that really what you think?" you stood, not able to control the flames of anger licking at your chest, "katsuki, you know damn well i gave my all trying to talk you into staying a hero."

"bullshit. you just wanted it to look that way." he stood too, hands planted firmly on the table, "because that's what you do. you pretend you care, and then just soak up all the glory for it."

you clenched your jaw, "not everyone cares for glory as much as you do. i don't know why you think that, but i know you loved being a hero, and i supported that because i love you."

"do you? or did you only get with me to be the partner of a hero?" he spat, eyes narrow and downright venomous, "poor partner of dynamight, they must go through so much to endure his anger issues. poor fuckin' you, right? poor y/n."

your lower lip quivered, the back of your eyes burning, and he laughed. he laughed.

"what? you're gonna cry, really?" he scoffed, shaking his head, "fine, fuckin' cry. that's all you seem to know how to do."

you inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes trained steadily on him, "fuck you." you whispered, hands balled into fists by your side.

"say it louder." he challenged, "maybe it'll actually do something."

"fuck you, bakugo katsuki." tears fell freely down your cheeks, but you weren't sad. you were pissed.

you walked around the table and jabbed your finger in his chest, "i have done so much for you. so goddamn much. i have stood by you, i have disproved every bad thing the media had to say, i've supported you, and-" your voice wobbled, "it's never fucking enough. nothing is ever enough for you. someone is always after you, someone is always praying on your downfall, because everything's about katsuki, right?"

he was stunned silent, leaning back away from you. his face was conflicted, eyes wide with surprise.

"well news-fucking-flash, the world doesn't revolve around you. and neither do i," you dropped your hand, wiping at your cheeks, "so i'm done. i'm done fighting for us, because you have never once tried for me."

"y/n--"

"y'know, katsuki." you paused on your way to the bedroom, "i think they were right about you. you are a douchebag. an asshole. a monster."

[turtletaubwrites]

Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1

Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 2679

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)

A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time. 

You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body. 

The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.

“Hello, how’s your day going?”

A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard. 

“I-I’m well thanks. How…”

“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”

Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.

‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’

How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?

‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’

I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.

‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’

I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!

You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously. 

This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate. 

But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone. 

Please fix me.

This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.

“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.

He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon. 

As long as he can fix me…

“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”

Hands. 

Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room. 

Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down. 

Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers. 

The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you. 

As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.

Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes. 

“May I look at your form, miss?”

‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”

Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table. 

He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking. 

“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand. 

“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”

“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”

His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen. 

But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately. 

“Why are you favoring that hip?”

“Oh, it…” 

Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.

“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before. 

“And your right knee?”

“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

“N-No. None that I can recall.”

His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.

Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.

“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”

His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.

“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”

“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”

He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.

“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”

“Did you used to have longer hair?”

“What?”

“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”

“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”

“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.” 

Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment. 

“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”

“Okay.”

The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside. 

He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.

“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”

Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to. 

“Doctor?”

“You can take a seat.”

Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement. 

He stood, towering over you as he came close.

“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.

Those fingers…

His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you. 

“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. 

The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.

“It has.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”

You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.

“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.

“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc–”

“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”

His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Law.”

He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him. 

“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”

“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”

He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.

“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good. 

“How does that feel, Y/N?”

“Fine.”

He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises. 

“How’s this?”

“Fine.”

He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay. 

“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”

“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.

“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”

“How’s this?”

“Still fine.”

“You can go further?”

“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did. 

“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”

“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit. 

“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”

He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.

“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”

Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.

“Yes, they do.”

His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax. 

“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”

“I…”

“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”

He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him. 

“Why are you–”

“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”

His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.

He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.

Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.

“Do they believe you?”

“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”

“How’s this?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, last push.”

Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.

“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face. 

“No.”

He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.

“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”

“Can you fix it?”

Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions. 

“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”

“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”

You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”

A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.

That can never be fixed.

The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.

“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”

There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.

“I trust you, Doctor.”

“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[earthtooz]

clingy!gojo x gn!reader, fluff, use of pet names, a little bullying from reader but that's okay- it's gojo /j, he's annoying and probs ooc.

gojo satoru is as codependent as he is powerful and you came to realise that the hard way during the timeline of your relationship. what began as a peaceful saturday morning lying together in bed has now become a total wrestling match, one that you were drastically losing in in comparison to gojo's unmatched strength.

"get off me, 'toru, i need to go buy groceries before the shops begin getting busy!" you huff, your hand on his shoulder doing nothing to make him budge no matter how hard you tried.

he whines, loud and pathetic in your ear. "don't leave! i'll be all cold and miserable!"

"oh boohoo. move," as an afterthought, you add: "please?"

he shakes his head, white strands tickling your chin as the sorcerer shoves himself further into your warmth, holding you with a kind of fervour that spiders have to their webs.

you don't know how you can get out of this one.

"please, love?" gojo loves it when you bring out pet names for him; something you monopolise in hopes of lowering his defence. "i'll be quick too. just a trip to the grocery store and then i'll be back, is that such a demanding request?"

"yes. i don't know what could happen to you out there, what if a special grade curse appears? i'd never forgive myself."

"then come with me."

"too cold for that. i'm staying here."

you roll your eyes. chivalry is dead. "glad to know that you've got my back. whatever. i can handle myself, 'toru, you know that."

"okay, but i can't- that's why you need to stay!"

"you have more cursed energy in one finger than i do my whole body."

he hmphs.

"you can destroy buildings for miles."

he hmphs again.

"your birth literally shook the jujutsu world."

the white-haired hmphs one final time, his cutesy act only doing so much when the grip he has around you contradicts it. gojo's strength is not something to be messed with but you just hope that he stops squeezing you soon because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. paired with his weight on top of yours, you don't think you two can get any humanly closer.

"'satoru," you groan, utterly exasperated at his stubbornness. "you're acting very sweet and all but i'm serious. we don't have enough food. we ran out of milk for your daily mocha-"

the sorcerer places delicate kisses along your collarbone, cutting you off as you shiver from the sensation, especially when his lips brushes over a sensitive part of your skin.

"-don't care."

"gojo," you murmur in a warning tone, any hint of affection draining out of your voice.

bad idea. you knew what using his family name would result in and in your sleepy, yet frustrated haze, you hadn't considered the consequences. not until gojo's clinginess intensifies, his head rising from your chest whilst one of his hands pause midway through the heart he was tracing on your skin. he's looking at you with eyes that glisten with love, worry and fear. you now feel guilt washing over you, unable to muster the words to apologise before he speaks up.

"please don't be mad, i mean well," your lover whispers, the sunlight that snuck through your blinds illuminating him beautifully, deliciously sculpting the planes of his back. "i love you so much, don't you know? i thought you loved me too."

you sigh, flopping your head back into your pillow.

gojo continues littering kisses here and there, a new sense of desperation lingering with his actions. "at select times," you quip.

"babe, that's mean!"

"just as mean as you trapping me here. i'm hungry, gojo, and i have things i need to do."

"stop calling me that," he whines, pushing himself up only to crawl up higher, his head now fitting into your neck from where it rested against your sternum earlier.

great. now you can feel even more of his weight as he flops atop you.

tapping his shoulder in surrender, the best you can mutter is a breathy 'you're heavy' before he expertly manoeuvres the two of you, all pressure disappearing immediately as you now lie on your side.

gojo looks down at you with so much love and adoration, that it sends you reeling, regretting looking at him. your resolve cracks even more with the gentle kiss he presses against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

he seems to be even happier in this position, arms wrapping tight around your torso in a bone-crushing embrace, keeping you right against his exposed chest.

right against his heart.

this is a battle you've lost, you decide, surrendering by wrapping your arm around the white-haired's torso.

gojo doesn't miss the action, no, he revels in it and you don't even have to see him to know that he's smirking. smugness dripping in his tone when he asks, "oh? finally gave in to my charms, babe?"

"you're so annoying," you grunt, unwrapping yourself and shuffling around in gojo's hold to face away from your boyfriend.

once again, you don't even need to see him to see the astonished look he gives you, eyebrows furrowed and jaw dropped in disbelief. imagining it provides you with a little feeling of satisfaction.

"unbelievable!" gawks the sorcerer. "i am merely trying to show you my love and you do-"

"-'toru," you declare, the affectionate nickname only you use immediately silencing him. "go to sleep. or i'll leave your ass for everything you've put me through this morning."

detecting the airiness in your tone, he knows your threat cannot be farther from a lie. but still, he complies but not without murmuring a small 'unfair' before tucking himself into you, completely overwhelming you with his limbs.

"i love you," you confess, the words hovering into air, dissipating before long but gojo hears it. he always does. he's engraved the way you say those three words in his mind.

it sounds sweeter every time though, causing butterflies to erupt in his chest as gojo kisses your cheek. "i love you more," parting with a little bite, you swat him away as he sinks back into his position, laughing in amusement.

you end up going to the supermarket together that afternoon.

[b4nka1]

my favorite animated men and random things they do when jealous and want to grab your attention!

warnings: suggestive content (mentions of smut), misogyny, toji being nice, jjk manga spoilers. not proofread.

— FUSHIGURO TOJI : he would pout as you were busy with your office work. sure, you did love him, but your work was your priority for now. he would slowly walk into your room, standing behind you as you worked. he'd start massaging your shoulders, and within seconds, your eyes closed and body relaxed. "mmh, just right, baby..." you whispered to toji, you was still carefully and gently massaging your shoulders.

"if you gave me a tad bit more attention, i'd make you feel far far better, princess..."

— RYOMEN SUKUNA : he grumbled in annoyance when you paid no attention to him. the king of curses wanted to be mad but couldn't because you were so happy playing with the new puppy he'd gotten for you. you were laughing and giggling as the puppy kept whining and climbing over you. he got the most jealous when you kissed the puppy on its yucky, disgusting mouth, according to him. within seconds, he took the puppy from your hands and put the puppy back in his crate. he turned back towards you, picking you up and dragging you to the bathroom to make you brush your teeth.

"why'd you kiss that puppy on its disgusting mouth? now i can't kiss you without feeling disgusted."

— GOJO SATORU : he was pretty much annoyed at the fact that you were paying more attention to the three freshers than him. he scowled at megumi, who was getting more interest from your end. he was beyond irritated at this point. he sure was jealous but didn't admit it, not even to himself.bhe had to butt in, of course. his possessive ass simply couldn't handle the fact that you're quite nice and friendly. he stomped over to you, with a tiny pout on his face and his brows furrowed together.

"they're my students, but i hate the attention you're giving them."

— KUROSAKI ICHIGO : isn't exactly the type to get jealous, but he is very possessive. whenever he notices another man, especially abarai renji talking to you, he would ever so casually walk over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. he'd indulge himself in the conversation, laughing and nodding with whatever was going on. his arms would then creep down your back slowly as the conversation proceeded. he'd ever so subtly squeeze your butt and act as if nothing happened after he did so. when renji notices, he takes a leave and waved goodbye to you. you turn to ichigo and scold him for doing so.

"what? i'm just squeezing what belongs to me, you don't get to scold me on that."

— GETO SUGURU (villain era, you're not on his side) : he is a calm and collected man. but when he notices you and satoru being too close physically, practically invading each other's personal space, a smile and a bulging vein of anger on his forehead is prominent on his face. he silently swore to get you fucked raw before the war broke out. mimiko immediately notices this and huffs, "why don't you already go claim what's yours?" she snorts, going back to doing something on her phone.

"well, she will suffer. so what if we drifted apart? who is she to move on from me? she's still mine."

— NANAMI KENTO : he had been working overtime and came home late. to make matters worse, he found you on a long ass call with one of your guy friends, who used to like you. dismissing the jealousy, he took a shower and ate the dinner you prepared for him. and to make matters even worse, you were laughing at something he told you about. he was clearly frustrated and irritated, and of course, jealous of your little guy friend. when he had enough, he snatched the phone from you, putting it to his ear,

"either you end the call or hear me fuck her dumb and make her scream my name."

— ZARAKI KENPACHI : despite his rough and tough demeanor, poor guy also gets jealous of you spending time with ikkaku and yumichika. he tries his best not to show it as a kenpachi but fails when yachiru notices it. "ken-chan, don't worry, i gor your back!" she giggled happily. she searched around the seireitei and finally found you casually hanging out with yumichika. she walked over to you and held your hand. you raised your brows in surprise when she tugged you to the direction of the squad 11 barracks. she pushed you into zaraki's room, closing it behind her. zaraki sighed, hugging your waist.

"sorry, i kinda felt...jealous but didn't show it because of my status...i'll buy yachiru some treats for helping me."

— ABARAI RENJI : has his zanpakuto ready in its shikai state when you were found talking to ichigo. he angrily stomped over before byakuya stopped him. "they're just friends." he told renji and ordered him to sheathe his zanpakuto. renji grumbled and followed his order, stomping towards you, with a small pout on his face. he kept on giving ichigo glares until he took the signal and left.

"next time i see that piece of shit, i'm making him watch me pound into you."

— ZENIN NAOYA : oh boy, this misogynistic bastard wasn't ready to accept the fact that he was being jealous because his stupidly handsome cousin toji was being nice to you, complete contrast of how naoya usually treats you. toji helped you in the kitchen, he helped you with cleaning and helped you do the laundry. but naoya lost it when toji's arm wrapped around you instinctively as you were about to slip and fall. naoya grumbled, waiting until toji was out of sight. he pulled you by your kimono to his room, slamming you ruthlessly into the bed.

"that bastard crossed the line. might as well show him who this pretty but useless wife belongs to."

— KINJI HAKARI : is chill on the outside but the anger is bubbling within him inside as he watched your yoga instructor from afar being too touchy with you. his let out a low growl when he placed a hand on your hip and squeezed the skin. hakari had enough when the yoga instructor smirked and placed a hand on your inner thigh to "fix your posture," rubbing it sensually. you were too innocent to notice that. in a flash, hakari punched him square on the nose, stomping on the scum's face before leaving with you.

"he doesn't know.who he's messing with. we are finding you a new instructor. this one's gonna be fed to the curses."

— KAMO CHOSO : is a VERY pouty baby. yuji was his brother, yes, but that didn't mean you spend the whole day with him when you met him for the first time. it almost felt as though you and yuji were a couple and choso was the third wheel. after the whole day passed by, you and.choso went back to your shared apartment. he immediately went into the bedroom, snuggling under the xxovers and crying into the pillows. when you went into the bedroom, you noticed what's happening and frowned, rubbing his back and asking him what happened.

"i-i felt so left out today, bub... i-i know yuji is my brother b-but i needed you a-attention..."

— HIGURUMA HIROMI : he sighs once he comes back home after a long day. he put his bag on the coffee table in the living room before going into the kitchen, finding you there with your 2 month old baby, putting her to sleep. higuruma pouted as he wanted you all to himself tonight, but your baby had different plans. it took you great effort to rock her to sleep, eventually putting her in a crib and walking back into the living room, hugging him tightly. he returned the long hug, sighing in content and rubbing your back.

"didn't know i'd be so envious of our own princess, baby..."⁹

–

hope yall like it!

[pickingupmymercedes]

All these little things pt.2 - Lewis Hamilton

The other 9 snippets of fluff (as promised) - If you want here's the first batch - All these little things

Also there's 20 more fluffs just like these ones here - Ways to say I love you and Ways to say I love you pt. 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +3k

a/n: More fluffs, because we need it! Also, some of the prompts I used here were requests, so if you'd like a specific drabble do send them in and I'll put them in a potential new part?!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Adventures

The crisp autumn air danced through Y/N's hair as she tossed a worn leather satchel into the back of Lewis's sleek car. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes as she turned to face him, holding a folded roadmap in her hand.

"Okay, champ" she declared, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Ready for an adventure?"

Lewis, not yet totally used to her spontaneous ideas, raised an eyebrow. " What kind of adventure?"

"The kind where you're in charge," Y/N announced, thrusting the map towards him. "Today, you're the navigator, and we're going wherever you point on this map."

Confusion flickered across Lewis's face. "No destination? You serious?"

"Absolutely serious," Y/N confirmed, her grin widening. "I drive, you tell where to. Consider it a chance to reconnect with your inner explorer."

Lewis chuckled, the challenge sparking a competitive glint in his eyes. "Alright. But don't blame me if we end up lost in the middle of nowhere."

With a playful swat at his arm, Y/N climbed into the driver’s seat. Lewis unfurled the map across his lap, his brow furrowing as he studied the intricate network of roads.

"Let's head for the mountains. Looks scenic." he announced, pointing at a winding route that snaked through a vibrant green patch on the map.

Lewis, tried to meticulously charted their course. Y/N, on the other hand, reveled in the unexpected detours – a charming roadside diner with a menu scribbled on a chalkboard, a hidden waterfall cascading down moss-covered rocks, a winding country road lined with vibrant yellow leaves.

They got lost, of course. Inevitably, they took a wrong turn, the map momentarily betraying them with its two-dimensional representation of a world full of surprises. But instead of frustration, a shared amusement filled the car. They stopped and asked for directions at a quaint gas station, the attendant drawing a squiggly line on their map with a permanent marker.

As the day wore on, he realized they weren't just exploring new places, they were rediscovering each other.

They talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the winding roads they traversed. Lewis, usually focused on the finish line, reveled in the simple joy of the journey. Y/N embraced the freedom of not knowing what lay ahead.

By the time the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, they found themselves at a secluded beach, the golden sand kissed by the retreating waves. They sat in comfortable silence on the hood of the car, watching the fiery hues paint the sky, a shared sense of accomplishment settling over them.

"So" Lewis finally spoke, his voice tinged with wonder, "lost or found?"

Y/N turned towards him, a smile gracing her lips. "A little bit of both," she replied. "We might not have known where we were going, but we definitely found something."

Lewis leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The journey, with all its twists and turns, had been a reminder that sometimes, the most beautiful destinations were the ones discovered along the way.

Naptime Cuddles

The roar of the crowds had faded into a distant memory, replaced by the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic rise and fall of Lewis' chest beside her. A street lamp illuminated the room in the late afternoon, painting dappled patterns across the plush white duvet. Y/n snuggled deeper into Lewis' embrace, the familiar scent of his bodywash a comforting balm.

The post-race adrenaline rush had finally subsided, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion. The flight back from had been a blur of cramped airplane seats and fitful sleep. But in the quiet sanctuary of their home, true relaxation finally claimed her.

One of his arms was draped possessively across her waist, his fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the small of her back. The warmth of his body was a comforting weight against hers, a silent invitation to surrender to sleep.

Y/n shifted slightly, her head burrowing into the crook of his neck. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she felt Lewis stir beside her.

"Still awake, love?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n hummed in response, nuzzling closer. The sound seemed to be all the answer Lewis needed. He wrapped his arm tighter around her, his breathing falling back into a steady rhythm.

Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the soft sounds of their sleep. The weight of the trophy he'd secured earlier that day seemed insignificant compared to the quiet comfort of this moment. For Lewis, victory wasn't just about the checkered flag; it was about the moments of peace that followed, moments shared with those he loved, where he could simply be Lewis, and the world could wait.

As sleep finally claimed Y/n, a single thought drifted through her mind – this, the quiet intimacy of a shared nap after a hard-fought win, was a victory all its own.

Season Calendar

The crisp scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of toast as Y/N fumbled with the calendar sprawled across the kitchen island. Lewis, a gentle smile playing on his lips, watched her wrestle with colored pens and sticky notes.

"So, Australia's a definite yes" Y/N declared, highlighting the season opener in Melbourne with a flourish. "Suzuka, is my favorite" she added, etching a bright pink heart beside the Japanese Grand Prix. "Miami for the after-race parties."

Lewis chuckled. "Since when did you become a party animal?"

Y/N winked. "Don't underestimate the allure of a good poolside DJ after a long race weekend."

Their fingers brushed as she reached for a blue sticky note, marking their planned trip to New York just before Monaco. "Monaco it’s…well, it’s Monaco," she continued, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Maybe another European race before Silverstone?" Lewis suggested, tracing a finger across the calendar. "Spa or Monza?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment. "Hm… I’d say Monza. Oh, and Silverstone's too," she declared, scribbling her name beside the British Grand Prix. "Promise to your mom"

A grin spread across Lewis's face. "Right"

"Monza," she added after a thoughtful pause "because it's your first race in Italia, as a Ferrari driver."

Lewis's eyes softened. "It is."

She nodded, a mischievous glint returning soon after. "Singapore, too. Night race fix."

As she marked Interlagos in São Paulo with a heart even bigger than Suzuka's, a blush crept onto her cheeks as Lewis smiled at her antics. "It’s your second home race and that little beach vacation before Vegas is too tempting to resist."

Vegas, the season finale, received a quick tick with her name next to it.

"Abu Dhabi for the closing ceremony?" she mused, tapping the last race tentatively.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You're practically attending the entire season, love" he teased with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N looked up, feigning innocence. "Am I? It doesn't seem like that many."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, you've mapped out nearly the whole calendar”

"Well, someone has to support you, champion," she replied, a playful jab disguised by a loving smile. "Plus, there's the cultural immersion, the delicious food, the..."

"The endless supply of post-race champagne?" he finished her sentence, a knowing grin on his face.

Y/N winked. "There might be some of that too."

Tough Race

The air in the motorhome hung heavy, a stark contrast to the usual pre-race buzz. Lewis sat slumped on the plush couch, his helmet resting dejectedly on the coffee table. The screen of his phone displayed the stark reality – a disappointing qualifying position and a car that no one understood.

Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart heavy with empathy. She knew Lewis thrived on competition, on pushing himself to the limit. Seeing him so dispirited was a sight that tugged at her soul.

Placing her laptop aside, she walked over to him. Without a word, she sat beside him on the couch, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders. He flinched slightly at the touch, as if startled from his introspection.

"Tough day, huh?" she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed; the sound heavy with disappointment. "Yeah," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just feels like everything's going wrong."

Y/N remained silent, allowing him to express his frustration without words. She knew that sometimes, the most comforting thing was a quiet presence, a silent acknowledgment of his struggle. After a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They held a vulnerability she rarely saw, a glimpse of the man beneath the champion's mask.

"Come here" she said gently, opening her arms for him to fall into. He leaned closer, his head resting on her chest. Instinctively, her fingers reached for his scalp, their gentle pressure working their way through his braids. It was a routine they'd developed over the years, a silent language of love and support.

As her fingers began a soothing massage, kneading away tension at the base of his skull, a soft sigh escaped Lewis's lips. His muscles, which had been coiled tight with frustration, started to relax under her touch.

"You have the talent, Lewis," she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper but filled with warmth "You have the dedication. This is just a bump in the road."

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the motorhome and the gentle ministrations of her hands. Slowly, a spark of his usual fire began to return to his eyes.

"Next year can’t come soon enough" he finally murmured, his voice regaining its strength. "I’ll be the one in red waiting for you” her lips close to his ears, attesting to her loyalty to him.

Workouts

Sweat beaded on Y/N's forehead, blurring her vision slightly as she pounded the treadmill. The rhythmic thump of her feet echoed in the home gym, the only sound competing with the pulsing techno beat blasting through her headphones. She was lost in the zone, pushing herself further with each passing minute. Today's run was all about endurance, a long, slow burn to build her stamina.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced over, momentarily breaking her focus, to see Lewis bent over a weight bench, curls glinting in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. He was shirtless, his muscles flexing with each controlled rep.

Y/N looked away, forcing her gaze back to the treadmill display. “Great”, she thought, cheeks burning. “Now you're distracted.” She tried to refocus on her breathing, on the rhythm of her run, but the image of Lewis, sculpted and confident, kept intruding on her thoughts.

A mischievous glint entered Lewis's eyes. He knew he had her attention, even if she wouldn't admit it. With a slow, deliberate movement, he placed the dumbbells down and reached for the hem of his workout shirt. A slow peel, a suggestive glance thrown in Y/N's direction, and the shirt landed discarded on the floor.

Y/N let out a groan of frustration, more with herself than anything else. This was supposed to be a focused workout, not a session in ogling her impossibly attractive boyfriend. She cranked up the volume on her headphones, willing herself to ignore the blatant display happening across the room.

But Lewis wasn't done yet. He sauntered closer to the treadmill, a playful grin on his face. "Need anything?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to make eye contact. "Nope, all good here" she mumbled, her voice strained.

Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Alright, but if you do, I’ll be right here" he teased, leaning against the treadmill console, effectively blocking her view of the television and forcing her to acknowledge his presence.

Y/N glared at him, a flicker of amusement battling with her annoyance. "Seriously? I'm trying to work out here."

"And I'm trying to offer some motivation," he countered, his eyes twinkling. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful challenge in her voice. "If you're so good at motivating, why don't you join me for a run?"

Lewis's grin widened. " Was just waiting for you to ask."

Grocery Shopping

Jet lag, like an unwelcome koala clinging to their luggage, had followed Y/N and Lewis all the way from Europe to Australia.

Yawns punctuated the silence as they stood in the brightly lit grocery store aisle, their usual meticulous list forgotten somewhere in their luggage.

"Alright," Lewis announced, rubbing his eyes "Essentials: Bread, milk, some fruit..."

Y/N's stomach rumbled loudly, betraying her fatigue. " chocolate… " she mumbled, grabbing the first bar her hand encountered, a garishly pink confection with a name that promised "explosive berry flavor".

Lewis chuckled. "Y/N, love. Maybe we prioritize some greens? " He reached for a bag of pre-washed salad mix.

"Fine." she conceded with a sigh, "But we're getting ice cream. My brain cells need a sugar rush."

He shook his head fondly, adding a carton of plant-based milk to the basket. "Alright, sugar monster."

Y/N scanned the shelves, her eyes landing on a display of colorful cocktail umbrellas. " Lewis" she said, her voice tinged with mischief "think these would look good on an Almave cocktail?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow as she shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Just planning ahead"

Alright" he conceded, tossing a pack of the umbrellas into the basket. " Healthy stuff now, babe. We need to get through the week"

Y/N groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Let me get some of those roasted chickpeas they have by the checkout, at least. They're practically healthy, right?"

Lewis laughed, pulling her close for a quick kiss as she reached for some sort of processed sugar. "Roasted chickpeas it is."

Weird dreams

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom floor. Y/N stretched luxuriously, the remnants of a strange dream clinging to the edges of her consciousness.

"Lew" she mumbled, reaching for him on the other side of the bed. His side was cold, the sheets neatly pulled back. She sat up, a frown creasing her brow. "Lewis?" she called out a little louder.

He emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hip, a face cream in his hand. "Morning, love" he greeted with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning" Y/N replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "You were gone?" She gestured to the empty space beside her.

He paused, a puzzled look replacing his smile. "Gone? I haven't left the bed all night."

"Oh" Y/N said, feeling a wave of disorientation. "Must have been the dream then."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. " What kind of dream?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the strangeness of it all making her smile. "Well," she began, "It was the weirdest thing. We were both at the factory, but you were giving a motivational speech... to a room full of chickens."

Lewis burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room as he doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

Y/N couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the dream washing away the lingering confusion. As they lay back down in bed, Lewis pulled her close, y/n laying her head on his chest.

"So," Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement "what motivational speech did I give to the chickens?"

Y/N snuggled closer, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, you know, the usual," she said, her voice laced with laughter. "Conquer the coop, dream big, peck your way to the top."

Lewis chuckled, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Sounds like something I’d say"

Y/N swatted him playfully on the arm. "Hey, maybe even chickens need a little inspiration sometimes.” a smile playing on her lips and he squeezed her softly.

Sickness

A crumpled ball of tissues lay discarded beside Y/N on the couch, a relentless battle she'd been waging with a head cold all morning. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her entire body ached with a dull misery. Across from her, Lewis, usually thinking of what to do next, sat slumped on the armchair, a mug of lukewarm tea clutched in his hand.

"Alright," Lewis declared, pushing himself up from the chair with a grimace, "I'm going to tackle those emails. You just relax on the couch some more."

Y/N croaked out a protest. "Lewis, you look like you could use the couch more than me. Those dark circle under your eyes look awful.

He swiped a hand across his forehead, a frown creasing his brow. "Nothing to worry, love. Probably just didn’t get enough sleep."

Y/N sighed, a weary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Ever the workaholic, even a mild illness couldn't keep him from his commitments. "Alright" she conceded, her voice hoarse, "but promise me you'll rest too?”

He flashed a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, lovely." He retreated to his office, leaving Y/N alone with the sniffles and the blaring silence of the weekend they'd both been looking forward to.

She tried to sleep, to watch tv, to lose herself in a book, but her eyes burned in their sockets. Frustrated, she finally reached for the thermometer. The red mercury climbing far too high for comfort.

Panic clawed at her throat. Lewis couldn't be getting sick too, not with his packed schedule for the next two months. Steeling herself, she pushed off the couch and made her way to the office. Lewis sat hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice thick with concern.

He looked up, startled. The feverish flush on his cheeks was undeniable now.

"What’s up babe?" he mumbled, his voice raspy

"You're burning up," she declared, placing a hand on his forehead. "We both are."

He let out a shaky sigh, finally acknowledging the truth. "This is the worst timing." he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N hugged his shoulders from behind his desk chair, her heart softening at his dejection. "All we can do is focusing on getting better" she said gently.

Lewis turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a grateful vulnerability. "Yeah" he conceded, a tired smile gracing his lips. "Let’s go back to bed then, we're watching all the cheesy rom-coms we can handle.”

Y/N laughed a bit before suddenly turning her head to the side to sneeze, a chuckle coming from Lewis as he got up and embraced her. "Deal" she finally agreed.

Morning rituals

A faint sunlight danced playfully across the open space of the kitchen; Lewis’ heavy steps caught y/n attention as the aroma of brewing coffee gently invited him to greet the day. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched, muscles protesting.

"Rough night, champ?" A voice, laced with amusement, drifted in from the kitchen. Lewis cracked open an eye mid-stretch to see Y/n leaning against the island, a steaming mug in hand.

"Just a bit" he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips as he flopped down on the sofa "That car is giving me a real workout."

Y/n chuckled, padding across the room and placing the mug on the coffee table "Well, here’s some fuel." She leaned down, brushing a kiss across his forehead, the scent of her minty shampoo lingering in the air.

Lewis inhaled deeply, the familiar scent a welcome comfort. He reached out, his hand landing on hers. "You shouldn't have gotten up so early" he mumbled, squeezing her fingers gently.

"Nah" Y/n replied, settling onto his lap "Early mornings are my secret weapon. Peace and quiet before the world wakes up."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me Roscoe snoring and the fog outside are your weapons?"

Y/n laughed, caressing his beard. "It might not be perfect, but it’s mine."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft clinking of mugs against the table’s glass. Lewis took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

"So," Y/n began, a thoughtful look on her face as she slid to the sofa and rested her head on his shoulders "what's on the agenda for today?"

Lewis set down his mug. "Just some online meetings with the engineers in the afternoon. We can have a lazy morning if you’re not busy" his hopeful tone hung in the air for a beat too long.

Y/n took a slow sip from her mug, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Actually," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "I woke up feeling surprisingly productive. Maybe I'll finally tackle that mountain of emails I've been putting off." A flicker of disappointment crossed Lewis' face, until he realized what y/n had actually just said, quickly stamping a playful smirk and a light grab of her ass. "The hell you are."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Got some bad news today and I want to forget it. So I'm gonna share a bit of something here as a distraction.

Earlier today I referenced a smut piece I've started working on. Dead on Main. How would you guys like to read the set up for it? (No actual smut in this snippet.)

Enjoy these 800 words!

-----

Danny’s leg was bouncing and the girl sitting in front of him in the lecture hall turned to glare at him. He forced it to stop and pulled out his water bottle, only to realize he was down to his last few drops of ectoplasm.

It wasn’t enough.

He’d thought Gotham would have enough ambient ectoplasm that there’d be a bunch of other ghosts hanging around, even if they were weaker than the ones Amity got. But apparently not. It was already mid October, almost Halloween, and he hadn’t met a single other ghost. He’d even gone looking.

He needed some ghost-on-ghost interactions. Non-liminal humans were fine, necessary to hang out with from time to time even. But not enough for him anymore. His ectoplasm intake had tripled since he moved here to make up for the lack and it wasn’t working.

The girl in front of him turned around again and hissed, “Cut it out.”

Shit, his leg was bouncing again. He stopped it and looked up at the powerpoint the professor was teaching off of. Then back down at his notes. Well damn, he’d missed a few slides.

He ground his teeth and shoved his things into his bag. Clearly sitting here was a waste of time if he couldn’t focus. As quietly as possible, he slipped out of the lecture hall and made his way outside. He was wound too tight. Needing to do something, anything, he loosened his control on his aura, letting it spill out around him

If he’d still been in Amity, everyone would know Danny Fenton was having a bad day. Here, no one spared him a second look. He stalked off campus and through the streets of Gotham, taking turns when needed to match the street lights or avoid getting run over by a car. He had to keep moving.

He didn’t know how long it had been or how far he had traveled when he felt it: the brush of another ghost’s aura against his. Another ghost who was just as angry and frustrated and lonely as him. Danny was moving in their direction—into a park—before he ever consciously made the choice.

The other ghost was moving closer, too. Danny grinned, showing a bit too much teeth. Maybe he’d finally have a chance to let loose, get rid of the frustration he’d been feeling.

And then a man in a leather jacket came running into view. Danny allowed himself a moment of surprise at seeing another apparently-living human who set off his ghost-sense. Could he be a halfa, too? Whoever they were did not seem to be surprised like Danny was, however, and moved faster as soon as they saw each other.

Danny shook off the shock and laughed as he rushed into the fight. He needed this.

Though his aura, Danny sent out his feelings of frustration and isolation and delight at finally meeting another ghost. Then they were trading blows.

He got the same sense of anger and frustration from his opponent, mixed with some confusion. But Danny didn’t bother trying to parse out the guy’s emotions. That could happen later, after they were both finally sated.

His opponent didn’t use any ghost powers, so Danny followed his lead. He dodged a kick and blocked a punch only to return both. He managed to get a grip on the guy’s jacket, but the other did something that twisted his wrist painfully, forcing him to let go.

Danny dropped to the ground and tried to kick at his opponent’s legs. But he only got a glancing blow that barely tripped the man up. Danny jumped up, and managed to head-butt the other’s chin. His opponent growled and kicked out; Danny was sent sprawling. Then, the maybe-halfa had him pinned to the ground.

They both paused for a minute, just breathing. Around them, indistinct voices cried out in panic, but Danny ignored them. He let his hands be pinned above his chest, his legs held down by the other ghost’s knees. Even his aura was pressing down on Danny, holding him in place. Danny could’ve fought back, but something about this felt right.

So, for the first time, he let himself look at his opponent. His ghostly nature was evident in the streak of white hair that fell over his forehead and the ectoplasm-green eyes that stared down at Danny. But what really struck him was how much physically larger he was than Danny. How they appeared to be about the same age.

He was fucking hot, too. Strong as well, if his aura was anything to go by.

Danny licked his lips and let a little lust leak into his own aura. He quirked an eyebrow in question.

-----

Next

This song is the inspiration for the fic and will help set the tone for how things're gonna go. (NSFW lyrics, make sure you listen in an appropriate location or with headphones.)

[erisvansserra]

Bruised Pride | Fenrys x Reader

Summary:- Fenrys tries to show off during training but Rowan uses his peacocking to put him on his ass. Then an embarrassed Fenrys has to be mended by Y/N

A/N:- this was a request!! yay me!! I really liked this idea and thought it would be cute to see Fen not as smug and cocky as usual.

Warnings:- none, some small fluff though

She leaned against the warm cobblestone fence, her face lifted to the sky as she soaked in the last few rays of afternoon sun. It would have been peaceful if not for the grunts and yelps of the cadre's afternoon training.

"Move your feet more, boyo!"

"You're too stiff!"

"Can you look at what you're doing?"

Rowan tutted, correcting Fenrys's form for the umpteenth time that hour.

Opening one eye slightly, she glanced towards the high fae males. Rowan and Fenrys had discarded their shirts hours ago under the hot summer sun, their skin slick with sweat as they moved gracefully. Gavriel leaned against a tree nearby, watching his fellow warriors train. She observed as Rowan corrected Fenrys again, using the tip of his sword to adjust the young wolf's stance.

Fenrys caught her gaze and flashed a charming smile that made her close her eyes reflexively. She didn't mind Fenrys; he was annoying and arrogant, but fundamentally a good male. What bothered her was how effortlessly he could coax a blush from her every time they interacted. Lost in the moment, she enjoyed the summer sun, the chirping birds, and the feel of grass between her fingers. Her mind wandered to what lay ahead for her and this new court.

Her peace was shattered by a grunt and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Looking up, she saw Rowan standing over Fenrys, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as the young wolf clutched his stomach.

"Is he okay?" she asked, rising and walking over, joining Gavriel beside Rowan as they peered down at Fenrys.

"I'm... fine," Fenrys managed between sharp breaths, trying to compose himself. She raised an eyebrow, turning to Rowan for an explanation.

"He was distracted," Rowan grunted, then turned and walked away towards the castle, leaving her confused and frustrated. Fenrys rolled onto his back, muttering, "He isn't very fun to train with," as he slowly got to his feet.

"I think he's bruised your ribs," she noted, observing his careful movements. Though he usually towered over her, he was now slightly hunched, one hand gingerly holding his side. Her gaze flicked to his face, where a small cut had appeared just above his eyebrow.

"I don't think that's all he bruised," Gavriel quipped, helping Fenrys steady himself. The white wolf growled softly in response, his lip curling before pain washed over him again.

"Come on, Fen, let's get you inside," she said gently, wrapping an arm around his waist while he leaned on her shoulder. They made their way to his room, where she settled him onto his bed. "Where do you keep your bandages?" she asked casually, beginning to search through drawers and cupboards.

He nodded his head towards the bathing chamber, she walked into the large space, taking in the marble green floor and the black bathtub. She could stand here and admire how beautiful the architecture was all day, but she quickly shook her head and continued searching.

Sitting beside him on the bed, she examined the cut on his head.

"It's healed already," he remarked, running his thumb over the now-closed wound.

"And how are your ribs?" she inquired, lifting his shirt slightly. He winced as the fabric brushed against the tender bruise on his side. She sucked in a breath. "I think you need ice."

He hummed in agreement, lowering his shirt to conceal the bruise and his warm, tanned skin.

"I've seen you train before... how did this happen?" she asked curiously.

He considered her question, weighing different responses that wouldn't make him sound like a love-struck puppy. "I asked Rowan to submit to me so I could... impress you," he admitted with a blush creeping onto his face. "But he felt the need to knock some sense into me instead," he added, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Her blush mirrored his own as she gently brushed his hair away from his eyes. "How about I get you that ice and we just... forget I saw anything?" she offered with a small smile, a mutual understanding passing between them never to mention this again.

"Thanks, y/n," he said, briefly squeezing her hand.

She spent the rest of the afternoon with Fenrys in his room, chatting about their lives before the war and comparing them to the easy lives they now led, replacing ice packs on his ribs as needed. By nightfall, he could sit up without wincing, his golden hair cascading over his broad shoulders as he looked down at her.

Their eyes met briefly before she felt butterflies in her stomach, prompting her to stand up from the bed. "I'll go fetch dinner," she said quickly, but his firm grip on her arm stopped her. Looking back at him, she heard him say softly, "You've done enough," as he gently pulled her back onto the bed.

She smiled and settled back beside him, spending the rest of the night at his side as per his request, talking and laughing until the moon hung high in the sky.

[sturnzyolo]

I love you, I'm sorry.

Matt Sturniolo x Fem reader

Summary: "Guys & Girls can never just be friends" I used to think that was a lie, until I met you.

WARNINGS: love confession, bestfriends, fluff, kissing, lying, crying?, etc.

Matt & I have been bestfriends since middle school. It all started when I asked to borrow a calculator. Once I handed it back, he asked for help on the work, & as I tutored Matt, we connected more & more. He turned into my closest friend, the one person I could tell everything to, the only person I wanted by my side throughout it all.

Everything was the same for years, every morning Matt would pick me up and take me to school with his brothers, everday he would walk me to each class, he would eat lunch with me, and he would drive me back to his house to hangout before walking me back home.

Everyday was the same yet so different. I was close with Matt's whole family, but nobody could beat my bond with Matt. He was all I needed in life.

I always assumed life would continue this way until we all inevitably had to split, but I didn't see that happening anytime soon. They were like my family. Most people would think a girl can't be friends with guys without there being some kind of feelings or connection between them. I always denied that, I never pictured Matt in that way. He was my bestfriend, nothing more.

January 8th, 2024

I've noticed Matt start to hangout with me less and less, I had assumed he was just busy, especially with how his new YouTube career has been starting for the triplets. I was proud that they were going after their dreams, but I was a bit sad that I saw him less than usual.

I thought about this as I was getting ready for school, I wondered if it could be more than him just being busy.

My clouded mind soon cleared at the sound of my phone's notification, I quickly put down my makeup brush and picked up my phone to read the message.

(yes I got a whole app to do fake messages AND WHAT ABT IT.)

I was in slight shock to read the message, Matt always took me to school no matter what. The only times he didn't was for therapy but he hasn't gone before school in awhile.

I tried to not show him how much I cared about the change he's been showing. He was never so distant from me. Did I do something wrong? Was something going on with him? I let my mind run on the possibilities for what I had done for him to be treating me so much differently from before.

I got to school by walking since I was still saving up for my own car. I waited for Matt at the front doors, since we always walked from class to class together. He never showed, he must've went in through the back or gotten here before me. I went to each class alone or with any of my girl friends, although Nick took me to Spanish class. I was too scared to ask him about his brother's new behavior.

January 26th, 2024

Matt's act kept up for more than 2 weeks, I saw him and spoke to him less and less everyday. I didn't want to lose him like this, I didn't want to have to forget about him in a way that felt like I was forced to. I was honestly fed up with it, so I decided that I needed to text him, right now.

(you barely even look in my direction*) sorry guys I didn't see the error before

I rolled my eyes and slammed my phone screen down with a frustrated huff. It felt pointless even attempting to have a real conversation with Matt, and it was exhausting.

I watched the pouring rain outside my window. My thoughts wandered for atleast a half hour about Matt, I couldn't understand what went wrong, and I wanted to know so badly. All I wanted was my bestfriend again and he couldn't even have one genuine conversation with me.

My conflictions were abruptly cut short when a loud knock on my door came, at first I didn't want to even get up. It was probably some stupid sales person. Another knock came, I flipped over and looked at my phone 12:47 am who the fuck would be at my door this late!?

my question was quickly answered with a yell after another knock "Y/n please open up, it's Matt, come on its pouring" his voice made me quickly get up in disbelief as I ran downstairs.

I unlocked and slowly opened the door to see Matt in a disheveled state, his eyes were a light pink while his eyebags were swollen, his nose was red, his hair was wet and his clothes were drenched.

"Hey, look can I just come in, please?" Matt asked softly with a slight break of his voice, circling around the reason he was here

"You were just being a complete asshole, no, why are you even here, go home" I was upset and clearly didn't want to talk to him at all but seeing him like this hurt.

"Please y/n/n, I walked all the way here just to talk to you, just let me in." He pleaded with a sniffle from his nose

"Oh, so I have to let you in, when you don't even let me? You've been acting like a completely new person, you shouldn't be here, I mean you did say your life is more than just me." I said in an argumentative tone as I held my ground with a cold gaze over to him

"No, no, please y/n I didn't mean that, you know I didn't. I know I've been an asshole but.. I can't keep lying to myself, and lying to you. I couldn't see you and talk to you because it was destroying me y/n/n." Matt muttered with stumbles over his words, he anxiously fiddled with his fingernails.

"Why, what did I do? What have you been lying about, because it's been killing me, you've been a dick to me and have been treating me like I'm nothing, so what the fuck did I do to deserve that!?" I said angrily with my tone growing louder

"Nothing! Nothing y/n, you're perfect to me. you make me utterly speechless sometimes but it kills me that I can't have you. I know you've never seen me as more as just your bestfriend, but I love you, y/n. I'm in love with you, I know it sounds fucking crazy, but I can't stop thinking about you, I was lying saying my life is more than just you, because you're all I need in my life other than my family, and I can't even breathe when I'm not around you, it feels like I'm fucking suffocating. You're my bestfriend, but I can't help to want more. I love you, I'm sorry if that's so wrong, but no matter what you say I will continue to love you, because there isn't a bone in my body that isn't dying for you to love me back." Matt spoke in one whole breath, almost yelling as he confessed. His chest rose and fell heavily waiting for my answer

MATT POV

I looked at y/n as my eyes filled with tears, her face was in disbelief as her eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted. 'God she's beautiful' I thought as my eyes traveled her face while I breathed heavily. I needed her to say something, anything. I felt like an idiot in this silence, I could ruin everything because of this, I had loved her since the first moment I laid eyes on her but I knew I could never have her in the way I wanted, so I settled for what I had. I just couldn't take lying to her anymore, so I pushed her away, but I needed to tell her, I needed to give her a real reason, even if it ended horribly.

Her lips clasped together again as she seemed to finally had formed a sentence for me, while she straightened her eyebrows slightly. Her soft gazed eyes looked into mine as my breath hitched quietly, then they went down to my lips, causing my face to falter even more.

Her actions were quick as she stepped out of her front door, joining me in the rain before wrapping her fingers into the back of my wet hair. She pulled my head down softly before she kissed me. Her lips were so soft and her touch could make me melt, I didn't even hesitate for a second to kiss her back. I wanted this moment to last forever, my hands gently snaked to hold either side of her waist.

I groaned as she slowly parted from the kiss

Y/N POV

I barely even processed his words as my body took control, I eventually found myself in a deep passionate kiss with my bestfriend. It felt amazing, his lips had a faint taste of pineapple, his lips and hair were both so soft. His hands around my waist felt so right. I parted from the kiss slowly before looking up into his eyes, his gaze still pleading with me for more even after his needy groan.

"Matt, I love you too. I always will, in whatever way you need it to be, I'm yours." I soundlessly admitted before his hand moved up to carefully grab my cheek as he pulled me in to kiss him again, the rain poured onto us as he swept me off my feet.

The kiss didn't break for even a split second as my legs wrapped around his waist tightly. He walked me into my house, neither of us cared about the puddling leading into my home as he closed the front door behind us. He carried me upstairs to my bedroom that we've been in together hundreds of times, yet this one was so much different. The kiss broke for a minute to catch our breath as he closed and locked my bedroom door, he sat back on my bed while I sat on his lap.

He moved a piece of my hair out of my face that had fallen due to the small impact from my bed. "Y/n I've wanted this for so long, and I promise I will do everything to never mess this up because all I want to do is to love and cherish you the way you deserve. Please y/n, can you please be my girlfriend" He practically begged me, even with his puppy eyes staring into mine

"I would love nothing more Matt, I'd be more than lucky just to be your girlfriend." I answered as I held his face in my palms delicately as if he were fragile. his smile grew before he licked his lips smoothly and kissed me once more.

I never knew I loved my bestfriend, not like this, but now the only thing I could feel, was my love for him, and I didn't want this feeling to end, not now, not ever. I was yours, Matthew Sturniolo, forever and always.

I wrote this in 1 day guys oml, anyways this will be similar to the future Chris childhood bestfriends to lovers but that one will have sm more detail and angst to it, I promise. I want to esp take my time with that one to make it more meaningful but I hope you guys enjoy this one. Part 3 of Shadows will be coming out sometime today aswell, I just need to finish it. Sorry the end to this was kinda corny but I'm trying to get better with my dialogue 😔

[goldfades]

"let me take care of you" and "you're so good to me" with nico, maybe after he comes home after a loss?

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤 & 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 | nh¹³

♡ ─ word count | 779

♡ ─ warnings | tired nico, hurt/comfort, nothing else!

♡ ─ ev's notes | nico is so baby, u cannot convince me otherwise

You and Nico opened the door to your home, feeling the exhaustion from the entire day. Nico had the worst game of the season, the whole team had gotten obliterated. Nico's frustration was palpable, his normally vibrant energy subdued by the disappointment of the game. Dropping his hockey bag with a heavy thud, he let out a sigh that echoed through the hallway.

You watched as he walked towards the bedroom, closing the door. You knew he needed some time alone but you wanted to be there for him. You sat on the couch, going on your phone for a little while before getting up and grabbing a bottle of a water, heading to the bedroom.

Nico was laying on the bed when you went in. He had taken a shower, his hair was wet as you approached him with a caring demeanor. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow on his face. Nico looked up as you entered, his expression fatigued.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked gently, holding up the bottle of water. He nodded, as you took a seat beside him, offering the water as he sat up.

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip and then placing the bottle on the bedside table. There was a moment of silence as you both collected your thoughts.

"I hate days like these," he admitted, running a hand through his damp hair.

You nodded in understanding. "It's tough, but remember, it doesn't define you. Tomorrow's a new day, and you'll bounce back stronger."

Nico stayed a silent before letting out a sigh. "It was a shitty game. Did you see how they were treating us? Hitting us every chance they got. And the ref, don't even get me fucking started."

"It's frustrating when the game isn't called fairly," you acknowledged, knowing how much integrity mattered to Nico.

Nico sighed again, his gaze fixed on a point in the room. "I just hate feeling helpless out there, you know? Like no matter how hard we tried, the odds were stacked against us."

"I get it," you replied, offering a comforting touch on his arm. "But remember, this doesn't define you or the team. It's one game, and you've got plenty more opportunities to show what you're made of. And hey, maybe the next ref will actually do his job."

He chuckled at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Thanks for being here," he said, turning to look at you. "It helps, a lot."

You smiled at Nico, taking his hand in yours and placing it in your lap. "Anytime, baby." You spoke softly as you gazed at him. You could see how tired he was and all you wanted to do was comfort him at this moment.

Nico's gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, a sense of gratitude and affection shining through the fatigue. He squeezed your hand gently, appreciating the warmth and reassurance it offered.

You brushed a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, your affection for him evident in the gentle touch. "You don't have to do anything alone, Nico. I'm here for you, through the good times and the tough ones." He sighed at your soft touch.

"Hey, lay down baby. Let me take care of you." You spoke warmly as you got up from the bed. Nico offered a tired but appreciative smile as he followed your suggestion, lying down on the bed. The weariness in his eyes spoke volumes about the toll the game had taken on him, and you were determined to provide the comfort he needed.

As you returned to his side, you tucked the covers around him, making sure he was comfortable. He closed his eyes, sighing contentedly as the warmth of the blankets enveloped him. You sat beside him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly, eliciting a relaxed sigh from Nico. His features softened, the tension of the day slowly melting away under your tender touches.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he nestled into the cocoon of comfort you had created for him. "You're so good to me, I love you."

"I love you too, baby." You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man lying beside you. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

With a gentle touch, you brushed a kiss against his forehead, a silent promise of your unwavering support and care. In that moment, as the warmth of your affection enveloped him, Nico knew that he was exactly where he needed to be; wrapped in the love of someone who would always be there for him, through thick and thin.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[quinnysnursery]

whenever you can, can you make a fic of a daily routine with cg! matt and his baby? :) like the rundown of how he spends his day with her and how he takes care of her ?

[🩹] day in the life | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo & little!reader

summary : the daily routine of matt and his little :)

warning/extra tid-bits : use of Y/N, bath scene at the end (matt doesn't bath reader but still worthy to note)

word count : 2,226

divider credit : @agsthv

a/n : i have dyscalculia. this is a disorder that affects me ability to properly calculate time, so if anything seems to be happening too quickly or too slow based off the time stamps i'm really sorry (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)

Saturday, 8:00 am.

Matt wakes up

Waking up in the morning had never been easier for Matt, his brothers had always given him crap in the morning for waking up grumpy. Though that never seemed to be a problem when the two of you were together.

Like clockwork, Matt woke up at 7am every morning when the two of you decided to have regression days. It gave him just the right amount of time he needed to brush his teeth and get started on breakfast.

Saturday, 9:15 am.

Y/N wakes up

Technically, you always woke up at 8am. However, Matt had a weak spot for your sleepy-demeanor and couldn’t help but give you some morning cuddles before you actually woke up.

From the moment your eyes fluttered awake, Matt’s in “Dada Mode”. He leads you carefully from the bedroom to the bathroom, helping you sit atop the cool counter before helping you brush your teeth and get dressed.

Afterwards, the two of you make your way downstairs, Matt insisting you hold his hand. “Just in case” he always said, always pressing a gentle kiss to your temple once your hands interlocked.

Saturday, 9:30 am.

Breakfast 

Breakfast between the two of you was something Matt would always treasure. The way you’d instantly spring into conversation, asking him questions ranging from “Where do pancakes come from, dada?” to “Can we play outside today?”. 

Matt answered every single one with no frustration, even when you decided to go through “Why” phases. Today, Matt had made bite-sized chocolate chip and banana pancakes with scrambled eggs on the side.

During breakfast, Matt would usually give you the run-down of the day. If the two of you would be seeing his brothers, if you two had to run errands, etc.

Saturday, 10:00 am.

Independent Play

After breakfast, Matt would begin cleaning up the kitchen and run back upstairs to make the bed. This used to cause a problem as you weren’t necessarily a little who liked to be left on their own. After a few tears and tantrums, your carer finally came to a solution.

Matt would help you pick out an activity, usually a craft of some type before completing his morning task so you could have a bit of independent play, knowing that at the end, you could show Matt what you had been working on.

Today, you chose coloring. Picking out a My Little Pony coloring book before flipping to an Apple-Jack page, instantly getting to work. 

A few minutes later, Apple-Jack was now fully colored in and you could hear Matt trudging downstairs.

“Dada! Dada!” You squealed, jumping up from your seat on the floor and rushing to the bottom of the stairs. “Look! Ap’le Jack!” You giggle, bouncing excitedly as you shoved the paper in front of your carers face.

Matt gawked dramatically, sending rays of dopamine through your body. You loved when he looked at your works of art. “Angel, this is amazing!” He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. 

It’s after this that the two of you find a space for the new drawing on the fridge before moving on. 

Saturday, 11:30 am.

Daily Outing

Matt always tried making sure you got out at least once a day, whether it be a trip to the grocery store or a trip to the zoo. He knew regression was good for your mental health, he also knew that getting out of the house was amazing for your mental health.

Today, the two of you decided to go for a long drive and find a small park to have lunch at. 

Matt quickly strapped you into the passenger seat, handing you your stuffed toy before closing the door and sitting on the driver's side. 

On the car ride, Matt listened to you yap about any and everything you could with a sweet smile the entire time. Before you requested listening to music, which he happily turned on.

“Dada! M’ love this song!” You beamed, pointing at the radio excitedly. He chuckled, running a loving hand through your hair before turning it up a bit more. 

The two of you continued on this journey for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only 30 more minutes. Not that you minded, anytime with your CG was time well spent in your professional opinion. 

Saturday, 12:00 am.

Lunch

Thinking ahead, Matt had packed a small lunch before the two of you set off to the park. Nothing extravagant, just two ham and cheese sandwiches and a couple of water bottles. 

After finding a nice clearing in a secluded area of the park, Matt wasted no time setting up a picnic blanket, sitting down and beginning to set out food for the two of you.

The picnic was amazing, just the two of you with the occasional squirrel that caused you to point excitedly. 

“Dada! Dada look!”

“I see him, darling. Can you take another bite of your sandwich for me?”

Saturday, 1:30 pm.

Naptime

Typically naptime looked like you falling asleep on top of Matt’s chest while watching a random movie together. However, due to the distance of the park and your apartment, Matt helped make the passenger seat as comfortable as possible for you.

Leaning it back just enough to where your back wouldn’t hurt, turning on the seat warmer and playing some lo-fi disney music before putting the car into drive and taking any and every back road he could think of to avoid even the possibility of your sleep being interrupted by some random person’s road rage. 

Matt made sure to throw his jacket over you, cursing himself for not bringing a blanket. 

“Nini dada…”

“Nini bunny, we’ll be home soon.”

“M’kay…”

Saturday, 2:30pm.

Snack & Shows

Waking up was startling for you at first, unaware of how you ended up on the couch of your house and not in the passenger seat of your caregivers car.

“Dada?!” You called out, tears already threatening to spill out from your eyes. Matt quickly rushed in from the kitchen, setting down a small butterfly-shaped plate on the coffee table. 

“Hey…I’m here hun, what’s going on?” Matt asked, brushing your hair away from your face. You stumbled for the words, eventually just hiding your face in his chest with a pathetic whimper.

“I was getting your snack, darling.” Matt cooed, rubbing your back. Just then you realized the small plate that was previously discarded was a homemade lunchable. 

“For ‘e?” You asked softly, a smile appearing on your face. Matt nodded enthusiastically, “Just for you, look, I even put a piece of candy for after.” He said as he picked up the plate and showed you the various pieces of food on it.

Smiling, you slowly began eating your homemade lunchable, kicking your feet contentedly. 

The brunette man watched you for a few moments before swiping the remote off of the coffee table, clicking the TV on and scrolling over to Disney+.

“Bluey!” You chirp as soon as you see the all too familiar logo appear on screen. Matt chuckles, nodding. “Okay, okay. Bluey it is.” He agreed, starting the show on the last episode the two of you left off on.

Matt was kinda worried at first that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of the shows you wanted to watch whilst regressed but after one episode of Bluey? Yeah he was just as hooked as you were.

Saturday, 3:00pm.

Playtime

Matt always enjoyed playing with you, no matter the activity. Whether it was a game of hide ‘n seek, barbie dolls, or walking around the neighborhood collecting cool leaves…Matt adored every second of it.

Today, you’d chosen to pull out one of the many craft kits that Uncle Nick got you. This one being “Paint Your Own Birdhouse” themed.

“Dada paint that side, ‘n I paint this side.” You instructed the man carefully, handing him one of the tiny paint brushes that were included in the kit. Matt nodded, smiling as he watched you immediately get to work with painting your side. 

“What’s my princess/prince painting?” Matt asked softly as he began dotting clouds on the blue background he’d just completed, he was going for a sky look.

“Secret.” You smiled, eyes fixated on whatever you were working on. “A secret?!” Matt gawked playfully, earning a giggle from you. “Dada can see…after.” You decided, eyes glancing up at him for just a second.

Matt nodded, accepting that. 

When it came time for the both of you to reveal your sides, you insisted on seeing Matt’s first.

Matt had painted on a nice sky-like scene, complete with clouds and a few stick figure birds. “Andy’s room!” You chirped, pointing excitedly. Matt’s head tilted in confusion for a moment before realizing the connection you made.

His sky-blue paired with the clouds looked like a replica of Andy’s bedroom wall’s from Toy Story. “It does look like Andy’s room! Good job!” Matt praised, wrapping his arms around your waist. You giggled at this, settling into your caregivers grasp.

“Does dada get to see your secret now?” Matt asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You gasp excitedly, gently turning the birdhouse. 

Matt’s smile grew ten times wider at the sight before him. You’d painted on two stick figures, one resembling him, the other resembling you. If that wasn’t cute enough, a familiar bunny plush was also joining the pair. 

“Oh my gosh!” Matt immediately jumped into praise, going on about how talented you were, and how you got the color of his eyes “just right”. 

You soaked up every minute of it, in the arms of your Dada.

Saturday, 5:30pm.

Dinner Prep

Matt always tried to include you in everything he did, that included making dinner. Even if Matt was scared out of his mind about the various different ways you could get hurt, he knew that you knew the dangers of the kitchen and respected that helping him cook was a privilege.

“Spaghetti?” Matt offered, looking at the pantry as he tried to figure out what to make for dinner. “Nuh uh.” You shook your head, sitting atop the kitchen counter. “What about…sandwiches?” He hummed, earning another head shake. Sighing, Matt opened the freezer.

“Pizza?” He asked, holding up a frozen pizza box. You nodded excitedly, “Pi’za!”.

Due to the pizza being frozen, you didn’t get to help much with actually making it but you still enjoyed sitting atop the counter as Matt put it in the oven.

Saturday, 6:30 pm.

Dinner

Once the pizza had cooled off some, Matt wasted no time plating it on a dinosaur themed plate before serving it to his little.

You hummed happily, bouncing in your seat as you took the first bite. It was amazing, of course. You thought your caregiver was the best cook in the whole world, despite the fact the pizza came already made.

“Dada eat?” You asked as Matt sat down, a slice of pizza in tow. The brunette man nodded, brushing your hair away from your face. “Yup! Is it good?” He asked before taking his first bite. 

You nodded, “Dada ‘s the bestest chef ever!” You claim, earning a wide toothy grin from your caregiver. “Ever?” He asked, basking in the praise. “Uh-huh!” His little nodded, continuing to eat her food.

Saturday, 7:00 pm.

Dinner Clean Up 

Cleaning up after dinner wasn’t your favorite activity, but you did like playing with the bubbles in the sink.

“Careful baby, the water’s warm.” Matt said gently, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed the plates the two of you had used. You nodded, poking at the bubbles the dish-soap had created.

“Bubbles later?” You asked softly, looking up at Matt with a hopeful expression. Matt chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll run you a bath.” He agreed.

Saturday, 7:30 pm.

Bubbles

Bathtime didn’t look the same for you and Matt as it did other caregiver and little duos. Some people were comfortable being bathed by their carer but you weren’t, which Matt respected wholeheartedly.

So, instead of Matt helping you wash, he learned to craft the perfect bath. Full of bath bombs, salts, squirt toys and of course…bubbles.

“Bubbles ready?” You ask, setting down your stuffed rabbit as Matt exited the bathroom. Your carer nodded, “All ready, call me if you need anything. Okay?” You nod, thanking Matt before rushing into the bathroom- closing the door behind you. 

You couldn’t help but let out an excited squeal at the smell of rose-scented bath products that overtook the room.

Saturday, 9:30 pm.

Bedtime

When finished with your bath, you excitedly step into your pajamas and brush your teeth.

“All done?” Matt asked as you left the bathroom, the brunette man already curled up in bed. You nod, a sleepy smile spreading across your face as you climb under the covers and into your caregivers arms.

“Did you have a good bath?” He hummed, brushing your hair away from his face. You look over the bedspread, not answering him until you find your plush rabbit, “Mhm! T’ank ‘ou dada.” 

Matt smiled at your words, kissing the top of your head as he pulled you into a tight embrace. Sleep looming over the two of you, “Night night dada,” You yawn out.

“Night night sweet pea.”

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13 @pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei @v33angel @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

[hanasnx]

scott barringer headcanons.

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: enemies (?) to lovers | flirting | mentioned: fingering

! ── SCOTT BARRINGER's a hot, new commodity on the Horizon market. At least two girls you know have their sights set on him. It's clear how gorgeous he is, but you tried to keep your distance. The last thing you wanna focus on is some boy with his own set of problems. Fate finds a way. Every time you'd pull back, it'd draw you in, pairing you with him on chores more often than not, conversation was inevitable. You had a suspicions it's because neither of you are particularly chatty, and staff thinks you're less likely to cause an upset. "Ever done a campfire?" he taunts. The sick innuendo makes you scoff, tearing up grass while you sit on the ground with him. "You just say things to shock people, don't you?" you remark. You brush your hair back, and he keeps his gaze on you. "What else is there?" his reply is wry, and you roll your eyes at him.

! ── When you break the rules together, you serve the time together. Which means you and Scott work alongside each other scrubbing the bathroom floors. "What? Afraid to break a nail or something?" he tosses the phrase at you, regurgitated from the other misogynists he's heard it from. "Shut up, Barringer," you reply, just as unenthusiastic. The latex gloves catch on your manicure as you slide them on. "I'm not doing all this by myself. So make yourself useful." The vision of him on his knees is truly a sight to behold, the sudsy brush in his large hand. You have half a mind to kick him over by his chest, just to see what he'd do. It's not like you to exercise empathy, more like experimentation bred out of sick fascination. Besides, he deserves it. Him and his sour attitude. "Just get started without me." you tell him with a pinch of your shoulder, waving him off with a flick of your wrist. "Yeah," he scoffs. "you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He slaps the brush onto the tile, soap splatting out. You flinch, narrowly evading a stray splash on your shoes. "Watch it!" you admonish, "You almost got it on my Birks!" There’s an air of silence but you’re positive you can hear his eye roll. You have to fill it as you gingerly get down onto your knees next to him, dusting off your hands after. “I don’t get why we have to do chores. The amount of money my daddy’s paying for this place they should be able to afford a maid service.” "Yeah, I wouldn't expect daddy's little princess to understand."

! ── Even if he makes it hard, you and him do manage to get closer organically. It came in the ways he mocked you for your upbringing or your supposed stupidity. Scott has a lot to complain about, evidently. It blossoms into a sort of teenage fantasy. You let him get away with messing with you because you kinda like it. Little excuses to talk to you, bump you, tug on your hair. It's not long before he's messing with you more physically too. Less plausibly deniable.

! ── When things start heating up, you find yourself unable to stay away from him. The first time you kiss begins a torrid affair. Full of tugging him into dark corners to make out, sneaking off to the woods for “inappropriate touching” as the rules so clearly state to stave off of. He’s so frustrating all you wanna do is shut him up and make him useful. He’s a god at fingering you, makes quick work of it too, even if he is clumsy.

! ── There’s not much he won’t do to get your attention on him, he can't stand when it's anywhere else when he wants it. A bag of frozen veggies in his hand while you reach for it. "C'mon, is that how high you can jump?" "Scott!" you scold, balancing on the tips of your toes as you brace a hand on his chest. "Gimme it." Each time you crest, he moves it out of your way. You don't notice him sneak a hand around your waist, spinning you so your back is flush against him. His body curls around you, his cheek against your head as you weakly fight him off, using his arm to propel yourself up for the bag. "Will you forget the vegetables already?" He tosses them behind the two of you, but keeps you in place when you try to chase them, nuzzling his nose into your neck in search of skin to latch onto.