#It doesn't have to be like this it wasn't always like this

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[barcaatthemoon]

little one || alexia putellas x child!reader ||

Alexia brings you with her to Barcelona training sessions.

You sat happily kicking your legs back and forth as you waited for your mother's teammates to get on the field. You were dressed up in your little barcelona kit that was an exact replica of what the coaches wore. Unofficially, you were the team's fun coordinator and official motivator. Everybody already knew that you were Alexia's sole reason for being, and making you happy was a good reason to win games.

"Bon dia," you greeted each player as she walked past you. Most of them gave you a high five or fist bump as they repeated the sentiment to you. A few of the girls were special, and the special ones got to hug you or in mapi and pina's cases, toss you up in the air for a bit. Those two were the most fun in your eyes, and you always gave them high marks on your little clipboard. As much as you loved your Mami, she rarely received high marks on the fun clipboard.

Mami's job wasn't to have fun, not even at home. Olga was your fun mom, even though you knew she wasn't really your mom like Alexia was. She was technically just Mami's girlfriend, but you thought she was like your other mother. Olga took care of you, made you good tasting breakfast, picked you up from school some days, and gave you the best goodnight hugs and kisses in the whole entire world, not that you'd ever tell Jenni that.

"Hija, come here, you're getting red," Mami told you. Since you came into practice with her, you'd been out on the field for a couple hours already. At first, you were sleeping, but then the sun became too bright for you to sleep around. You wanted to go inside again where it was cooler and you could nap, but it was more important to spend time with your big friends.

Besides, you knew that if you found the right girl on the right day, you'd get a nap. You scanned around as they practiced to figure out who your target was. Vicky and her group were out immediately, the younger players running around like you did after Lucy and Mapi fed you candies. Mami didn't like you to distract the girls with nap time, so you knew to stay away from her. Irene gave good cuddles, but she didn't look tired. Just as you were about to give up, you noticed Caro yawn.

Caro wasn't your favorite, she wasn't even really one of the special girls who gave you hugs. Mami explained that she wasn't Spanish and that in her country, people weren't as friendly. You thought it was funny that she was girlfriends with Marta, who was one of the friendliest people you had ever met, after Jenni and Leila, of course. Despite all of that, you knew that Caro would be your naptime partner. All you had to do was wait for the perfect moment to arise.

…

"Come on, she's a baby! You can totally curl her," Mapi huffed as Ona struggled to complete her last rep of "Bebita curls" as Mapi called them. "Ugh, let her down. I'll put in an extra set if that's okay with you, Bebita?"

"Actually, I need to find Caroline," you told Mapi. She looked surprised, but let you down anyway. "Oh, and it's okay Ona. Olga doesn't carry me around anymore unless it's piggy back rides. She says I'm too big for her arms now."

"Pssh, they're just weak. Give it time, your Mami will whip her into shape too." With that, Mapi patted you on the butt as she turned you towards where the Scandinavian players were working out together. You felt a little nervous approaching them, they were scarier without their Spanish counterparts. With Mapi, Aitana, and Marta gone, you realized just how big these women were. They were like giants, and despite the fact that you knew they were friendly, they scared you sometimes.

"Ahem, Miss Caroline, will you read my naptime book to me please?" You stood before them with your hands behind your back, fidgeting them silently. Fidgeting like that wasn't a good habit, at least that's what your Mami told you. You thought it was fine, especially since Abuela Eli told you it was normal.

"Go on, it's a big deal," Ingrid told her friend. Caro looked between Ingrid and Frido, who both seemed to share Ingrid's outlook. You were Alexia's baby, and everybody knew that, and normally you flocked to the other Spanish players. Caro felt like she was out of her depth doing this, but she went with you anyway because that was what you wanted.

"What do I do?" Caro asked you. You pointed over to the little spot that was made up for two people to lay down at. It was pretty late in practice, and if you didn't nap here, Mami would make you nap at home when you'd want to play. If you napped here, then you could play games when you got back home with Mami.

"Lay on the big pillow. You can use the blue blanket, I like the yellow one anyway. I'll lay down with you, and then you read my book to me. The English words are hard for me, I can only read Spanish," you told her. Caro nodded and did what you told her to. She wasn't a very good cuddler, but she was warm and didn't push you off of her when you got comfortable. You also liked her voice, and within a few minutes, you were asleep with Caro holding you protectively.

…

Some days, you were completely lost in your own little world. Other days, you watched everyone and everything around you. Today was a watchful day for you. Mami had an away game, so you'd ride with Abuela Eli and Tia Alba to the game. It was in Madrid, and the fans could get rowdy when they saw the Barcelona bus, and Mami hated bringing you that way.

"Hola Mapi," you said nonchalantly. Mapi gasped and looked around with her mouth agape. She was utterly shocked that you had detected her before she had managed to scare you. Nevermind that she had tried that trick countless times before without it actually working well. And the days it did work ended with you crying because Mapi scared you, and Mapi crying because she felt bad.

"Bebita, you must have spider senses for something. It is amazing, but be careful, you don't want to become a robot like your Mami," Mapi teased. She dug her fingers into your sides as you squirmed and laughed. You started to swat her away, and much to your luck and Mapi's chargin, Ingrid came over and interrupted.

"Hi (y/n)," Ingrid greeted you. She was kind of funny in that she rarely called anybody by their nicknames. Ana hadn't been like that, and sometimes you really missed the tall blonde lady, but Mami and Irene let you talk to her on the phone with the promise that you not tell Ingrid or Mapi. Mami didn't want them to get upset, even though they all used to be teammates with each other.

"Hola Ingrid." You leaned your head all the way back to see Ingrid. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she joined you on the grass. "Whatcha doing?"

"Sitting with you," Ingrid answered. She tapped the tip of your nose, causing you to erupt into a little fit of giggles. Mapi groaned and muttered something under her breath. You didn't catch most of it, but you definitely heard a couple of words your Mami made you promise not to say until you were much older, and absolutely never in the presence of Eli. "Is that okay, tiny?"

"Yes, I like you Ingrid. You're nice and smell nice," you said. Ingrid laughed, especially once Mapi looked over at the two of you with a weird face.

"You never tell me that I smell nice, Bebita," Mapi huffed. You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned over towards Mapi. Hesitantly, you sniffled, pleasantly surprised that she sort of smelled like Ingrid. You knew it was because she spent a lot of time cuddling with Ingrid or hugging her. Mapi always smelled a little bit like whatever girl she was dating, just like Jenni used to smell like your Mami and Leila had lots of smells.

"You smell a little like Ingrid, but not as good," you told her honestly. Mapi sputtered and huffed, clearly about to start ranting when the big coach's whistle blew for practice to resume. "Play good and have fun. I don't have my checker board today, but I'm watching."

"Aye, aye captain!" Mapi saluted you. Ingrid pressed a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye before she dragged Mapi back over to the rest of the team. You don't know if they actually had fun because you went right back to playing with the grass and occasionally waving at your Mami when she stopped.

…

"Hija, please," Alexia pleaded with you. You had fallen asleep in the film room, and Alexia had hoped to just pass you onto Alba, but things were not going according to plan at all. You wanted to either go home with Olga, who was in Madrid already for work, or Alexia, who wouldn't let you ride all the way to Madrid with her on the team bus. "You can't go with me."

"Then I want Mama!" You were practically sobbing and stomping your feet. People could see you, but they tried to move onto the bus like seeing you so upset didn't break their hearts. "Mama! Mama! Mama! Not you, Mama!"

"What about Tia Alba and Abuela Eli, don't you want to see them too?" Alexia asked. She knelt down in front of you and tried to reach out, but you jerked away like her mere presence offended you. "Hija, I'm not telling you anymore. You're going with Tia Alba to my Mami's. They'll bring you to Madrid tomorrow, and you can see Mama then."

"Ale, look at her. It might be easier to just have Olga pick her up from the hotel," Alba reasoned. "Or, I could go up a night early and she can stay there."

"No, you're not leaving Mami to drive all that way by herself. We made this plan weeks ago, and it's not changing because someone is upset," Alexia said. Alba glanced between you and her older sister, amazed by how stubborn both of you were being. If there had ever been a doubt that you were Alexia's baby, it was cleared up with moments like these.

"Call Olga and see what she thinks," Alba said. At that, Alexia paused, knowing what her girlfriend would say. Olga was constantly getting at Alexia for being too stuck in her ways. Alexia was trying to get better about being flexible when it came to plans, but it was hard.

"N-no, that's not necessary," Alexia stammered a little. Alba was glad to see Alexia give up a little as she walked over towards you. "Mama's been gone for a long time, hasn't she?"

"Y-yeah," you answered. You weren't sobbing anymore, but you were definitely still crying quite a bit. "'miss her."

"I miss her too, a lot. I'm sorry that I didn't think about your feelings. I didn't even think to ask if you wanted to come with me, I just made plans for you to go with Alba. Abuela Eli misses you a lot, so I thought you'd want to spend time with them. How about you go with them for this, and next time I have to go far away, you and Olga can have a girls' weekend?" It wasn't a great compromise, but Alexia was hoping that it would work for you. You seemed to be contemplating it, which Alexia took as a good sign.

"This time I'll go with Tia Alba," you told her. Alexia sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around you. "Bye Mami."

"Bye Bebita. Temo amo," Alexia whispered into your hairline as she peppered your face with kisses. You began to squirm away from her, but Alexia had a tight hold on you.

"Come on, let's go. Just wait until you see what Abuela Eli made for dinner," Alba said as she pried Alexia's arms off of you. You gave your Mami a kiss before you went with Alba for the night.

"Do you think Abuela Eli will let us all sleep in the big bed together?" you asked as you swung Alba's arm. She hated it, especially whenever Alexia used to do it to her, but with you, she found it kind of endearing.

"Definitely, I bet she's already got your teddies laid up in bed," Alba answered. You were so happy and excited that you hopped up randomly as Alba led you to her car. You sat on her shoulders and watched as the Barcelona bus left, and with it, your Mami for her big game. You didn't really care to watch it, but you were excited for being passed around everybody's laps for cuddles during the game.

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

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

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 3: Missing Moments

a little something for @bucktommypositivityweek 💜 tommy POV after their first date + buck calling about meeting for coffee

**

Tommy's not moping. He doesn't mope. Especially not over a relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet. It was one date. Arguably less. Half a date with a guy he's hung out with—if he's counting very generously—a grand total of four times.

A blip, as far as relationships go. He has more history with that guy he used to trade semi-frequent blowjobs with who's saved in his phone as Nose Ring.

...Come to think of it, he should delete that guy's number. They haven't spoken in years. He's pretty sure the last text in their message history is—yup. Dick pic. From Nose Ring. They'd gone six months without contact, then he sent a picture of his penis and nothing else. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to be even vaguely interested, and there's been no communication since.

And that's really that's the problem, isn't it. His dating history is riddled with guys like that. Dead-end hookups and bad dates with people he didn't click with no matter how much he tried to force it. And people who just...didn't care enough. Then Evan...

Alright, he's moping a little bit. He's only human.

He's been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Pretty much since he got home. It's not late enough that he's tired, really, but he's also exhausted. In a soul-deep sort of way.

It was nice. He had a nice time, sitting across from Evan, letting him stutter his way through all the usual first date talking points like he was reading them off a list in his head. It was cute, how seriously he took it, how he'd pause and smile and get that soft look in his eye when he was listening to Tommy talk.

It would have been so easy to be greedy and keep spending time basking in that warmth he seems to radiate. Evan was clearly willing to push himself way past his comfort zone, but. Tommy wasn't. Isn't. His stomach twists just thinking about it.

But maybe he's being selfish either way. He wants more than Evan can give him, so he's pulling away completely, retreating before he can get too deep into planning a future Evan isn't ready for.

He sighs, feeling around next to his pillow until his fingers close around his phone.

Maybe Evan will reach out again. Some day. Eventually. Once he's more at ease with himself. Or maybe Tommy already ruined what could have been before it even started. Probably safer to just assume the latter. Restrict himself to hoping they can still be friends after this.

He scrolls aimlessly through his contacts. There's quite a few numbers in there that he should delete. Names he's not sure he recognizes anymore. Ones he wishes he could forget.

For some godforsaken reason he still has Sam Westbrook in here. Just reading the name puts a pit in his stomach. He doesn't remember everything about the three horrible months they spent together, it's mostly just flashes. The taste of too much beer on his tongue, saturated and clumsy in his mouth. A sharp smile and a sharper suit, always pressed and starched and better-than-you.

Tommy was newly out and far too hard on himself about how difficult it was. Guys like Sam seemed to sniff that out, made his personal shame all about them. It didn't always work, but Sam was particularly good at it. He always left Tommy feeling gutted and guilty and far too willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him the next time they saw each other. It's not a relationship he likes to think about.

But it's a reminder that he did the right thing tonight.

And...

Maybe he'll call Evan. Not yet, not right away. Tommy needs time to square away his own messy feelings, but maybe in a couple weeks. Just to let Even know he's. Around. If he needs someone to talk to about all this.

They can be friends. He'll make it work.

He deletes Sam's number, and tosses his phone aside.

Two weeks.

—

It's only two days later when his phone rings, Evan Buckley written across his screen in big white letters. He stares at it through five long buzzes while his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This...wasn't the plan. And to make matters worse, he's at work. He catches one of his coworkers side-eyeing him curiously, and that pretty much guarantees he'll have at least three people ask him what was up with the phone call before his shift it over.

Well. He should at least give them something to gossip about. A guy called me and I watched it go to voicemail isn't much of a story.

He swipes to answer, before he can make himself any more nervous.

"Hey."

"Tommy! Hey!" Evan's voice crackles a little through the phone with a surprised intake of breath, like he wasn't the one who called in the first place. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches. "H-how's it going?"

Tommy spent four hours yesterday taking apart his neighbours' lawn mower because he'd convinced the man it was making a weird noise and he could fix it. There was nothing wrong with it, but he checked every inch anyways, and put it back together well-oiled and exactly as pristine as it was before. That morning he'd gone grocery shopping with a paper list and his phone at home so he'd stop obsessively combing through all his files trying to find things to delete.

So, he's having a very normal week, clearly.

"Good," he says instead of explaining any of that. "I'm actually at work right now, so—"

"Oh crap, I forgot you were working today, sorry. I—I can call back later if you're busy."

"No, it's okay. Slow day so far." He pauses. "One might even say qui—"

"Ah, don't jinx it!"

Tommy snickers. Apparently Eddie wasn't exaggerating. He's known a lot of superstitious people, but most of them didn't take it this seriously. Evan sounded less panicked about flying directly into an actual hurricane. "Right, the dreaded Q-Word."

"Did you hear about the power lines that fell on our engine?!"

"Yes." He'd seen the pictures too. Pretty much everyone had, the 133 were sending them around all day after they took that call.

"And then some guy stole it later that same day, y'know. It was a terrible shift."

He'd heard about that too, but not that it was the same station. Damn. "Alright, alright. No tempting fate."

"Well. Good. Too many things can go wrong with helicopters."

Tommy squints up at the rafters, feeling unbearably fond. Like he's full of something warm and syrupy and too big for his chest, like he's spilling sunlight between his ribs.

He should ask why Evan called. Polite check-in after their date ended so abruptly? Another storm he needs Tommy to fly into? Metaphorical or otherwise. Hopefully it won't involve stealing anything else. They got way too lucky the first time for Tommy to trust it working out again, and he kind of likes his job.

He slips his free hand into his pocket. "How are you doing, Evan?"

"Oh." He lets out a soft exhale that comes through as quiet static. "I, uh. Good, actually. B-better, um. Listen, are you free tomorrow?"

Tommy stops breathing, lungs seizing for a long moment before he very carefully reminds himself how to use them. "Yes."

"I wanted to. Talk. To you. Um. In person, preferably."

This really wasn't the plan.

But it's fine. It's more than fine. It's...

He'll just have to deal with wanting to kiss the living daylights out of someone who's off-limits, it's not like he's never had to do that before. If Evan needs something from him he's not about to say no, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, if it happened at all.

"I, uh, would've just popped by your house unannounced, but I thought this might be more polite," he continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. Tommy purses his lips against the smile threatening to overtake his face. "Also, I don't know where you live."

"You could've asked Eddie."

"Oh, so you're saying I should have ambushed you then?"

"No, that's very rude. Who does that."

Evan's delighted laugh is bright and infectious, and has him grinning at his feet, sunlight spreading down to the tips of his fingers.

"So, coffee? Tomorrow?"

"Alright."

"Cool. Awesome. I'll text you the details?"

"Cool," he echoes, purposefully deadpan. "Awesome."

He can hear the smile in Evan's voice when he pretends to be offended by the mocking. It's there all through their goodbye too, and Tommy finds himself coiled up around his anticipation at the thought of seeing that smile again.

It's going to be a long 18 hours. But it's worth the wait.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Outlier

You're the exception to everything Jason Todd knows about himself. He'll deal with that later. ~1.2k words

Jason Todd doesn't smile a lot. But with you it comes easy. It wasn't anything big that drew his awareness to the fact. You were just folding laundry with him while your favorite show played in the background.

It wasn't grand. It wasn't life changing. But he's grinning with all of his teeth, and he can't seem to wipe the expression off his face.

It's stupid, really, because all you did was offer to fold the sheets so he didn't have to. And now he's giddy. He'd be embarrassed, but he's too distracted by the melody you're humming softly.

He decides to be embarrassed about it later.

Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself. He talks to people, sure, talks a lot about cases and crime, and Gotham and the mission. But the deep and dirty personal stuff? He shies away from it.

Well, that's not completely true. Not with you.

He's talking about himself now, your head on his shoulder as you stare out at the city from the rooftop. He's not patrolling tonight, and you insisted on a picnic dinner to enjoy what's left of summer.

It's peaceful, and he hooks an arm around your back when you tug his hoodie tighter around yourself, staving off the slight chill in the air. He rambles a little more, he can't help it, he always wants to talk with you, listen to you.

He'd be insecure if you weren't so obviously engaged, prompting him to keep talking and sharing your own thoughts.

He decides to second guess himself later, and enjoy the shining lights of Gotham for now.

Jason doesn't hug a lot, but you're his exception. A hug hello, a hug goodbye, a thank you hug, a 'I'm glad you're okay' hug.

He cherishes them, wraps you up against him, and doesn't let go until he starts to worry he's making you uncomfortable. He'd probably never let go if he wasn't so scared of seeming desperate to hold you.

It's not– he doesn't mean anything by it, really. There's not anything more to it.

You're just warm, soft, and you smell like you. And Jason doesn't know anything more calming and soothing than you. So, if he craves the hugs you so freely give, isn't that okay? Wouldn't anyone feel the same?

He decides to wallow in his worries later, and focuses on the way you let him bury his face against your shoulder.

Jason knows a lot of things. Things about the world, life, people, space. Things anyone else would never even be the slightest bit curious about. But, sometimes, he just doesn't know what to do with you.

It's infuriating, the way you seem to care more about others' safety than your own.

There was no reason for you to go back into fire to try and help people out. There was no reason to put yourself in danger when he was right there to take care of it.

He has no idea what was going through your head when he hauled you out of the burning building. He would have dragged you by the back of your neck if it meant you just listened to him. If, for just a second, you considered that you could have died.

The thought makes him sick. The churning of his stomach isn't enough to distract from the angry look on your face. He wonders if he was too rough with you. He can't bring himself to regret it if he was when you start coughing from the smoke.

He knows he's too rough, this time, when he pushes you towards the paramedics and heads back to the fire.

He can break down later, throw his lunch up into the toilet later, because he's always too rough. But right now? He has a job to do.

Jason fights a lot. Breaks the bones of criminals, beats bruises onto thugs, shoots bullet holes into goons. But, he doesn't really fight with you. Tonight's different.

He doesn't think you should be so angry at him. He pulled you out of a raging inferno, after all. If anything, you should be giving him one of your hugs.

You're not doing that, though. Your face is scrunched up, and you're livid, and he can practically feel the tension between you two like a physical wall. He wishes he knew the right words to say that will make you see his side.

You accuse him of thinking you can't take care of yourself. (He's fully aware you can) You tell him he was reckless to go back into the fire. (You did it first!)

You snap that he was more preoccupied with pulling you out when there were other people in danger. (Duh. You're his priority. You could have had both feet out the door, and he still would have carried you out before anyone else)

You look completely fed up by the time you're done with your rant, and he's pretty sure he's only making the situation worse because he hasn't given you an answer.

It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he doesn't have anything to say.

He wouldn't change what he did. He's sorry he upset you. But he's never been good with words or apologies, not even with you.

So he doesn't say a thing, just stares at you with clenched fists while he waits for the inevitable order for him to leave.

And he really is prepared to leave. He's surprised it hasn't happened sooner. He'll hate it. He'll probably even do something stupid over it. But he wouldn't force the weight that is his company on you.

He'll accept that this is what changes what he is to you. At least, he'll try. Later. Right now, he's focused on not crying as the silence drones on.

Your voice calling his name cuts through his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back up to yours. He hadn't even realized he'd dropped it. You step forward, and he braces himself for what's to come. The end of this. You and him.

But the end doesn't come. You cup his face– cradle his face and ask him why he looks so miserable.

Jason's good at running. Good at burying his emotions. He has to be. But you don't look angry anymore. You look concerned. You looked more worried than you did when he was last bleeding out onto your couch. So he spills his guts.

He stumbles out how he's too rough and too wrong and he knew you'd want him gone eventually but he's not ready to go and could you please just forgive him this once for not being what you needed him to be?

He waits for you to push him away. You don't. His shoulder slump when you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him so tightly that he has no choice but to believe that you want him to stay.

He doesn't hesitate to latch onto you and mumble nonsense into your hair. Promises that he'll be better. Different. Whatever you need.

You tuck yourself closer to his chest and tell him you don't need him to be anyone else but him. The rest of your reassurances are muffled into the fabric of his clothes when he clutches you tighter.

Jason isn't very good at admitting his feelings. But he wants to. With you.

He'll figure it out later. But for right now, he lets himself sink deeper into your hug, and all the serenity you bring.

[backinmyphase]

Not my honeymoon

Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words

Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist!

"Are you okay, Gojo?"

No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.

What did he do???

You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.

But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.

You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.

You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.

He was worried.

"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.

"Are you? You look tense."

Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?

"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.

Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?

Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.

The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.

This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.

And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.

But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.

"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."

He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"

"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"

As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?

"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.

"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."

"Thank you, you have a nice day too."

He was going to die, wasn't he?

~

"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.

Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."

His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."

"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.

"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"

"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."

As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"

"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."

Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"

"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.

"She doesn't like me."

Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."

As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"

Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."

Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.

30 missions in only 12 hours?

It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.

But would he give up?

He smiled to himself.

~

You didn't have any time anymore.

The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?

No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.

You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.

Did he even want to talk?

You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?

No that just was absurd.

"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"

Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.

How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?

"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"

You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."

You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."

"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.

Oh god the honeymoon…

~

"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.

Normally he wouldn't be this mad.

But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.

His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.

So he had to work with red and blue.

And he had to be fast.

"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.

"Found you."

Hollow purple.

As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.

He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.

If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-

Goddammit.

~

It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.

Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.

Maybe.

"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.

And as you looked at her something in you switched.

"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."

Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.

You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.

You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.

Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?

If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.

Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.

What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-

Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.

A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.

"What did you want to talk-"

"Why are you bloody-"

You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.

"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."

What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!

Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"

"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.

You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…

"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"

Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"

You looked at her and just nodded.

"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."

He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.

He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.

Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:

What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?

"You waited for me to eat?"

You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??

"Yeah, I did."

Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.

"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."

"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."

Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.

"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.

"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."

As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."

"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"

"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"

You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."

Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."

Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"

His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."

He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"

"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"

"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."

You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"

"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."

He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."

You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."

He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"

You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.

Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-

"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."

He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.

Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?

"I would like that." you whispered.

"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"

She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."

She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."

Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."

Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"

"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."

"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?

"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"

The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.

His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.

"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"

The words were caught up in your throat.

You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.

"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.

You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"

The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!

He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.

"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."

When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"

Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."

His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."

"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"

A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."

He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."

"Gojo, we can't just leave!"

"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"

You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"

Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"

"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.

He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."

He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."

As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.

But wasn't that what you wanted?

"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.

"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.

"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."

And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.

Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?

"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.

"I want to get to know you better too."

With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.

Taglist:

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

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@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog @blkmystery

[worriedvision]

Ajaw ruins his relationship with you - Kinich

Gender neutral reader, angst. No happy ending here, borderline crack BC Ajaw is a cracky character let's be honest. Ajaws a little shit here

--

Kinich had, somehow, caught your eye enough for you to successfully land a date with him. One date becomes two, and the third one ends in you inviting him over for a drink. He accepts, and before you know it your home becomes a place for him to call home as well. While Kinich wasn't very emotive, he seemed to smile just a bit around you.

However, the couple affections you would expect from him in a relationship weren't coming. Nothing like kissing or hugging, and for a while you think it's because Kinich was not a touchy person. You also knew he was very busy with his work, which was why the first few times he left and told you not to wait for him you didn't think much. At the time, in fact, you were more attracted to him because he was honest with you.

"Don't wait up." He blankly states, every morning he leaves. If you're lucky, he comes back at night time only to sleep - he doesn't make himself any food or drink from your home.

You got suspicious of him when you were hanging out with Mualani, and she brought up the fact someone called Ajaw wouldn't stop nagging at Kinich. When you ask who Ajaw was, rather if this was his boss, Mualani laughs.

"Ajaw probably thinks so, but they bickering too often to do any work together." Mualani tuts. "Do you never hear Ajaw? That voice is so... Annoying to hear!"

"No...I've never met this Ajaw." You hum out, Mualani gasping.

"Tell me your tricks!"

--

Once you get home from your interaction with your friend, you've had enough time to think. After some long thinking, you come to a decision. You move the stuff that's Kinich's, leaving them by the front door, and add temporary locks in addition to the one your key locks until you can change the lock.

To your surprise, Kinich sounds surprised when he notices his bags out. You refuse to open the door, having more than enough time to waste as you had a day off, and Kinich defeatedly picks up his few belongings before leaving.

--

"Hah! You should see your face!" Ajaw jeers, Mualani and Kinich groaning out at Ajaws harsh words. "Good thing _ wisened up and realised they can do a lot better than some mortal being that can't even get himself a group of companions!"

"Because you always ruin things." Mualani sighs.

"Hey, I can't take credit for this one! I never even once spoke around _!" Ajaw shrugs, putting some sunglasses on.

"I was hoping to finally get to spend some time with them. I've finally got enough cover for a few days." Kinich states, seeming to realise what Ajaw did. "...Mualani, you know how annoying Ajaw is. Do you know if -"

"Oddly enough no! Honestly, I'm jealous. Ajaw doesn't know when to shut up."

"...It seems they do." Kinich massages his temples, Mualani making eye contact with him.

"...Do you think they were suspicious you were seeing Ajaw? Yuck!"

"Hey, I can hear you, ya know?!"

"It makes sense though. They don't know Ajaw isn't even human, and also isn't mortal."

"Hahaha! Oh boy, even I didn't think keeping my mouth shut around your potential love interests would give this benefit!" Ajaw cackles, seeing Kinich's hand flying towards him. "Hey, what are - AHH!"

--

You keep getting asked if Kinich is single, each time you saying he wasn't seeing you anymore before they seem excited to pursue a taken man. It's quite concerning, really, you think theres little dignity in being the other person in the relationship.

Kinich tried to talk to you, but each time you saw him you'd make an excuse for being too busy before hearing some weird child cackling and screaming in retaliation to someone reacting to them. As much as his hurt expression spoke to you, you still knew in your mind that Kinich was in a relationship.

Even if he wasn't, you would know in your mind that you were the second choice.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny, sorry this is such a long ask, but you’re writing is so yummy I had to see this play out… can i get a mille-feuille, sausage roll, pithivier, s’mores, mint julep, whiskey, and dark roast coffee served by charles or max, you can chose which one:)

bakery menu!!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! thank you to all the submissions for the bakery! i love them all and i am going through all of them slowly, haha. i love writing these so keep 'em coming!! thank you! a few things were changed regarding pronouns

mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + sausage roll ("i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt.") + pithivier ("if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you.") + s'more ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + mint julep (punishments) + whiskey (degrading language) + dark roast coffee (sub!character) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk/degrading language, sub!charles, punishments, motor mouth charles, bondage, implied oral sex, cowgirl position

charles could be bound to your bed, but as long as his mouth wasn't gagged. he would be a good submissive and make sure that his mouth ran until you finished. you loved that, his dirty talk. it drove you crazy, crazy enough that you'd bind him to the bed and take a ride on his cock to fill that sexual itch you had all day.

you panted with your hands on his shoulders, "if you don't behave, i'll let the others take care of you." an empty threat. as if there were others. charles just chuckled and gave you that winning smile.

"The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

in a traditional sense, you were the dominant one and charles was more of the submissive type. he aimed to please in the bedroom, it was a reason why he was always a favourite with the women of monaco. but while he enjoyed his time with them, he fell nicely into your arms.

it was evident that you were more of the one to take charge in the relationship. like when the press caught a photo of you feeding your darling charles strawberries while you were out. or another time when you had your hand on his lower back as you stayed close to him. even though he was a big taller than you, you were still protective of the angel you called a boyfriend.

"such a good boy." you panted as you rested yourself up onto his chest. mindful of the weight on it. you had spent the last ten minutes with your hand in your boyfriend's dark hair while you rubbed your achy cunt up against his face. he was bound to the bed, seated upright with his hands behind his back. enough pillows to cushion them from the headboard.

he tilted his head back and nodded a little, "oui, madame." he panted before he looked at you. those green eyes hazy from the intense lust, "je veux plus. i want more." he swallowed, his chin and lips were covered in your wetness. the angle he orally pleasured you was odd, but he devoured you like a hungry man.

you got down to his waist and easily sank yourself onto his cock. he yanked against the binds a little bit. you were giving him exactly what he asked for and he could feel the buzz of pleasure in his brain as you wiped his face with your hand before you pulled him in for a hot kiss. he groaned against your lips as you continued to rock your hips against him.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good boy.” you said when you pulled away and continued to hold onto his strong shoulders. you moaned loudly against him. you could feel the heat through your body as you two moved together.

"always for you." he said, "anything for you. why don't you take this ropes off of me and let me show you how to fuck properly. i know you want it, my love. to feel me much deeper." he could feel the rush of pleasure through his body.

he knew this was a punishment.

"i don't think so, my love." you replied as you continued to ride him. your short nails dug into his shoulders as you moved against him, "you know what you did wrong. we have rules remember?"

he moaned when you kissed him once more. he felt excited and hot all over. he was always expected to be the big strong dominant one in the relationship. and while he could easily dominate on the track. it was nice for the bedroom to be under you so pretty. to let you work his cock and leave him in a state of heightened bliss. he groaned a little louder when you broke the kiss and started to move your hips faster.

he moaned then said, "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt." he said with lust in his voice, "get a lot of photos of it while you rode me." he chuckled a little bit, "you like how it all feels, you around me. you are so good to me, mon cherie." then shuddered when your pace slowed down by the thrusts got longer. the strength of them pulled words out of charles' mouth.

you made out with him sloppily as you continued to move. allowing your lover to be placid under you. you came first, your lips against his. when you finally broke the kiss after you hit your peak, you saw the redness around his soft lips. you continued to move and he continued to run his mouth.

the throb in his head was strong, the want in his body made him tense up. he shuddered at the feeling of you, you felt well beyond a dream. "you're pretty like this, madame. you take me so well. i love you, i want you. you treat me so well." he groaned a little bit as he yanked at his constraints a little more. he felt the urge to orgasm down to his bones and he knew he'd finish in you soon enough, "you complete me. you make me dirty like an animal who needs you. give it all to me." he said between hearty pants, his toned chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

he was only able to climax when you pulled him in for another hot kiss. then he arched his back a little bit. he always looked so beautiful when he climaxed. the type of beauty that struck you to your core. you managed to make yourself climax one more time before you slowed your pace to a stop.

you held his face in your hands, he rested all the weight in his head against you and looked in a state of heightened bliss. he groaned when you got off his cock and kissed his forehead. his brain was running hot and he yearned for his madame's sweet touch.

"you're going to be a good boy for me now? no more being a jealous submissive and telling your teammates how good i fuck you. i don't need the entire world to know how much of a good boy you are for me."

he gave you that charming smile and said, "mon amor." he chuckled, "i want them all to be jealous over how good we are for each other." and while you couldn't argue too much with that. as you undid the ropes, it was about the principle of the matter.

you didn't want everyone to know how much of a slut charles was <3

[chrisbesitos]

younger reader having parent issues :( so whenever Chris snaps at her it reminds her of when she was younger and her dad yelled at her

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀emails i can't send

( warnings: family issues, argument, angst with fluff at the end.

( synopsis: y/n never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

Y/N parents wasn't the best ones. She had a great childhood, playing outside with her friends, a lot of dolls and colorful toys, but still missing something. Doesn't matter what she said or did, it never was enough for them. Never was enough for them to stop screaming, everything fucking night she could hear from her room. Y/N just cried, hugging her favorite plushie against her chest under the blankets, at least when they were screaming with each other, they didn't scream at her.

Growing up dealing with that shit wasn't easy, but she learned how to survive. Cry in silence in the middle of the night, walk around on tiptoe to not disturb her dad, she also learned who's coming by the sound of the steps. This is not living, but there's nowhere to run, nowhere to go.

Until she met Chris, her lovely boyfriend. Her parents didn't like him, they always said he'll end up cheating on her or breaking up, because she's younger than him. At first, Y/N didn't tell anything about her relationship with her parents to Chris, but he started to ask when he realized she always looks upset when they talk about their families. He and his brothers have a great and supportive family, Y/N feel a little jealousy of them.

She said what's going on in the night she asked Chris if she could spend the night, because her parents were mad at her and she couldn't deal with the screams anymore. Chris was supportive, he cleaned her tears and held her until stop crying. Y/N was nineteen, she could move out, Chris said she could stay with him. At first, she denied, because she didn't want to disturb them, but Y/N ended up accepting, at least for a while until she find a place for her.

Chris promised he'll never scream at her, but he didn't keep his promise.

"So you're gonna keep ignoring me?" Y/N said following Chris until their room, Chris wasn't answering her since they got in the car after leaving a dinner with his friends. "Can you fucking answer me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Chris groans, he turned to Y/N with his arms crossed against the chest and the eyebrows frowned.

"What do i want you to say? You're fucking ignoring me since we left, what's wrong with you?" She stamped her foot on the ground, Chris laughed sarcastically. He sat on the couch, shaking his head. "Damn, stop being so childish!"

"I'm being childish? You're the one who is stamping your feet, because I'm not doing what you want."

"What are you talking about, Chris?!" She said, passing her hands through the hair nervously.

"You don't give me five minutes, because I always have to be around you or you fucking cry about." He said, almost screaming. He groaned when she frowned her eyebrows, trying to understand. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. You can be alone for fucking five minutes, you can't act normal around people? You need to keep grabbing my hands and shit."

"I'm sorry if I don't know how to talk with your friends, they fucking older than me." Y/N crossed her arms, stepping back and hardly holding her tears. She doesn't like arguments, Chris knows this, but he's too angry to think straight.

"There we go again, you and your fucking "oh, chris, they're older than me"" He lifted up from the couch, stepping in Y/N's direction. "You're such a cry baby." He screamed in your face, then he realized he took too far.

Her eyes are filled with tears, hugging her own body. Y/N feel like she was a kid once again, small and defenceless. He took too far, he promised he'll never scream at her, because that's what her father used to do and he screamed. Chris felt so. . . So idiot.

"You think I'm a cry baby?" She asked, her voice cracked and this broke Chris' heart. He wasn't an idiot, he was an asshole. What type of boyfriend is he making his girl cry? Chris shook his head, closing his eyes fighting against his tears. He tried to reach for her hands, but she didn't let he hold them.

"I shouldn't have screamed with you, doll. I'm so sorry." He said, his voice was stuck on his throat. Y/N shook her head, more tears were falling from her pretty eyes. He felt like shit for being horrible with his girlfriend, she didn't deserve this.

She didn't deserve him.

"Do you think I'm a cry baby?" She asked again, Chris shook his head approaching her. Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. "So why you call me this?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was so blind being selfish that I didn't think, but I don't think you are." Chris said, embracing her shoulders and moving her towards the couch. Y/N sat down and Chris kneeled down on the floor in front of her, he held her hands. "I'm really sorry, doll. I didn't mean to treat you like this. I was acting like a–"

"Asshole." She said, sniffing.

"Asshole, yes." He said, Chris kissed the back of her hands. "I don't think you're a cry baby, neither childish. I disrespect you and I see this now, you're just trying to fit in and I didn't help you, I'm sorry, doll."

"You hurt me with your words, Chris. And you know I don't like screams, you upset me." Y/N said, she use her fingers to clean the tears on Chris' cheeks. "You promised me, Chris."

"I know, doll, and I'm really sorry. I'll never do that again."

"I'm sorry if I was annoying today, I just didn't know how to fit." She said, looking at Chris with her glassy eyes. He lifted the floor and sat by her side, he pulled her to his lap and kissed her forehead.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you." Chris hugged her shoulders, Y/N rested her head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. "I don't know how to fix this, I'm really sorry, Y/N."

"Don't call me Y/N, I'm your doll." Y/N lips leaned in a smile, she lifted her head and looked at Chris. "Never do that again with me, I'm not kidding." She pointed at him and Chris nodded quickly.

"Never again, doll." He smiled, Y/N hugged his neck and Chris caressed her back, giving little kisses on her hair. "I love you, babydoll. Much more than you can think."

"I love you, baby." She whispered. "Now, I know how you can fix this." She gave him a perv smile, Chris laughed caring her to the bed.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

taglist | masterlist

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

[funkyplantguy]

OOH OOH, Mumbo putting the big ol' bootycheeks on the Cub billboard and then stepping back and looking at his work and feeling kinda 😳‼ about it

CACKLED OUT LOUD READING THIS ASK AND IMMEDIATELY SCREENSHOTTED IT TO SEND TO TWO OF MY FRIENDS. anyway, here's...uh...this! -

"hiya, mumbo, what doin?" "studying." "studying...what?" "cub's ass." "...i'm sorry, what?"

mumbo turned to face the avian, folding his spyglass in on itself with a clean, satisfying schwick. honestly, grian sounded much more confused about all of this than he had any right to be - it wasn't as if he didn't do the same thing with scar. arguably, what mumbo was doing (standing at a respectable distance, using his spyglass to peer into the strange labrynth cub was currently navigating) was much better than what grian did when he was bored. he was going to give scar a heart attack, one of these days, with his propensity for perching in trees and dive-bombing the man the second he stepped within range. so, really - grian had no ground to stand on, not with this. "cub's ass," he repeated, "don't act like you don't watch scar build for hours just on the off-chance that he'll take his shirt off" "that's different," grian grumbled, swinging so that he was hanging upside-down off of the branch he'd previously been perched on. "we've been together for years. it'd be weird if i didn't want to see him naked. cub, on the other hand...i didn't know you liked him like that." "oh, i don't," mumbo dismissed (ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the suggestion), "i'm just bored. and someone needs to finish that sign you put up." "sign?" grian asked, peering owlishly at him. "which...oh, the one in the shopping district?" "mmhm. i should have known you wouldn't do the back - but no fuss, i'll handle it." "i...the back? mumbo, what do you mean? it's a billboard, it doesn't need a back." mumbo chuckled lightly to himself, sliding the spyglass into the pocket of his slacks. ah, grian - always skirting around the issue at hand. typical. "i - hey, don't walk away from me - what do you mean, it needs a back? what are you going to add to it? mumbo? mumbo?" a few hours later, grian had his answer. and mumbo could tell that he was impressed (if the wide, round eyes and gaping mouth mumbo was met with as he glided down from the back of the sign meant anything). scar, on the other hand... "no way!" the shirtless man shrieked, from where he was sprawled out on the grass next to his partner. "you gave him an ass! you gave cub an ass! this is great! oh - mumbo, you've really outdone yourself with this one." "mumbo," grian interjected, glaring down at scar with a look that screamed don't encourage him! "what the fuck." "what do you mean? the sign needed a back. i added one. it's simple, really." "oh man. grian - grian, this guy's down so bad. it's so funny - i should tell cub. i should tell cub - can i tell cub? please? please can i tell cub?" "no, scar, you cannot tell cub - mumbo. mumbo, are you sure you don't fancy cub? i mean...you just spent two hours recreating his ass, for goodness sake!" mumbo hummed to himself, turning to survey the sign behind him and...oh, goodness, he'd given cub a bbl. did cub's ass really look like that? it had to - he'd studied it for hours, diligently, so he could get it just right...maybe he'd remembered it incorrectly? maybe he'd need to go back to the source to examine it just a bit further...

oh. oh.

yeah, okay. maybe he understood where grian was coming from. "hey guys - oh, hey, mumbo. did you...is that an ass?" "yes." "huh. nice. good job." "thanks, cub."

[genderqueerdykes]

absolutely off the rails behavior when cis lesbians become enraged when you tell them that it's butchphobic to exclude butches who are transfemme, trans women, transmasc, men, take testosterone, have penises, and/or get top/bottom surgery from the butch and lesbian community. like the fact that we have historically always belonged to the lesbian community has been coming from the mouths of gnc and transfemme & transmasc butches for decades but everyone plugs their ears and doesn't listen.

the lesbian community has such a long and rich history of being a safe place for transfemme, trans women, transmasc, masc, intersex, genderqueer, non binary, and male presenting people who take testosterone and get top and bottom surgeries. before the rise of lesbian separatism and political lesbianism, transmascs & transfemme butches in lesbian spaces were not an issue. also in the past there just wasn't anywhere else for us to go. we were shoved into lesbian spaces by force, but also wanted to stay there because it's a community that's dear to our hearts and still means a lot to us

lesbians were the ones who made it safe for us to be there in the first place.

it's unfathomable to see people who say you should respect butches when it comes to their pronouns, identity, etc., to not invalidate their genders, to not assume anything about what gender they identify with- but the second they find out that some butches who are transfemme, trans women, or take T and still identify as lesbians and dykes they police our identities and bodies and insinuate that we can't be real butch lesbians for x, y and z reasons.

it's just insidious to exclude transfem butches and butch trans women on so many levels. i see this constantly and it's never called out as a form of butchphobia as well as a form of transmisogyny, especially when that person does not want to get bottom surgery. to call any MtF butch a man that's invading the lesbian community is to admit that one knows nothing about the complex gender identities and struggles transfemme butches and butch trans women face. to identify this way is one of the most prolific and powerful expressions of butchness, and what it means to be a butch lesbian. to deny these people the right to call themselves butch is inherently, inarguably butch and lesbophobic as well as trans/misogynistic.

to chase any of these people out of butch, lesbian, dyke and sapphic spaces is inherently butchphobia. yes, butchphobia affects perisex cis butch women, but it also affects so many more people. it affects transmascs and men. it affects genderqueer and non binary people. it affects bigender men. it affects transfemme lesbians and trans lesbian women. it affects trans girls and mtf lesbians in general. it affects intersex people. it affects lesboys. it affects boy/guydykes. it affects queer people of color. it affects studs.

it affects dykes, lesbians, and sapphics in general. this is a form of lesbophobia, trans/androphobia, intersexism, and especially butchphobia, no matter what. we have to accept ALL butches who don't fit into a neat little box of what a masculine queer person should be like.

[hkruu]

Can you write a cold and distant yandere CEO with everyone but a total puppy to the reader?

“NOTICE ME.” — hkr

\\ yan ceo , loser behavior behind doors lmfao , implied favoritism , stalking , mention of murder and violence , slightly sadistic (?) , not my usual style of writing but I tried !! //

Keith was loosing his mind, do these worms that work under him not understand English? He swears that anyone could drop dead and he wouldn't care except for that worker (you) that he always seemed to favor out of anyone.

Of course everyone that worked on the company was aware.

"Seriously, how do you even gain the favor of boss? I swear he's a tough ice." One of of your co-workers had asked, you could only shrug in response. You of all people didn't know why Keith favored you among the best, I mean just why? There was Kayla who was employe of the month, Seth who was his assistance so what could you offer?

Keith who somehow gets jealous of everything and anything, you try to interact with the newbies? Huh, when did they become so busy with a lot of paper works? It's only their first day . . . If you want answers you might wanna turn to Seth.

Keith who really likes seeing you working hard, it reminds him the times where he watched you study hard for your degree during September 3 at 3:17 am — you're asking why he knows that? Well he's Keith, a normal guy trying to make business.

When Keith is alone, you might mistake him from another guy. Behind the doors of his office room, you're greeted with the warmth of his affection and a soft tone going “Good day".

Keith acts like a total puppy around you and he doesn't care, if you want to change your schedule it's already done in a swift! Want to be an air-conditioned room? Already done and dusted. You murmur wanting to be employee of the month? Oh would you look at that, you're employee of the month!

Of course, he'd always find a way where it's always related to him. He did want his name engraved into your head. . . .

Keith's love language is definitely act of service and gift giving. It's one of his strong suits since it came so naturally over him, he'd always remind you that he only shows this side to you because you are special to his eyes. Of course, some employee who overhead it will be the one who's flustered instead.

You two don't have a label in your point of view, but in Keith's? He practically thinks it's your 4th anniversary! He just loves you so much, why can't you just accept his love and let him trap you in his safe space? You won't have to work, do chores and even lift a finger. Keith would happily do anything you wanted, your needs mattered more than his.

Keith is the type to let the situation defuse by itself but when dealing with someone getting in his way to finally make you his — he's not above to resorting to violence. Even if Keith soft to you, he will never hesitate to resort to bad behavior just to make you stay by his side, like an actual loyal partner.

Murder wasn't a second choice, it was always the first choice. It didn't matter if it was a simple misunderstanding or a little trouble, there was no harm in ending lives when it came to you. Keith doesn't find blood dirty, he finds it fascinating. Blood keeps your heart pumping, blood runs through your veins at this very moment, it's something he likes feeling, touching.

That CEO is no psychopath, he calls it affection. Can't you see all the efforts he did just so that you could be in a higher position? Did you not acknowledge everything he did to you during highschool? During middle school? College? Do you not remember Keith? It was a shame, but this time he would make sure that you'd remember him for the rest of your life.

Even if you run away, quit your job, live in another country. Keith will always follow in any shape or form, he'll engrave the memories you spent together in your stupid brain, he'll carve his name into your skin and watch it bleed with your blood.

Keith is a normal guy. He's distant and cold, he keeps everything to himself, and he certainly doesn't like sharing.

\\ sorry if it's short ><!! I thought I was free the whole day but uhhh my schedule said no and sent me to a writing frenzy irl again!!//

\\ grrr request now cus I AM SKIBIDI //

\\ tysm for requesting anon, I hope I didn't go ooc 😞 (I did) //

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 12 | chapter 13

Long golden blonde hair. Captivating green eyes as green as the grass in the meadows back in Dorne or from the Reach. Her laugh. Her voice.

Her voice. Agitated. Hurt. Lonely.

I love you.

The first time you stirred awake, it was some time in the evening. You could tell from the darkness in the room, with only the light from the candles lit on your table helping your vision. And as if triggered on, the pain all around your body made itself known.

You let out a small groan, stopped short when you could feel movement on your left. Craning your head to look, you could see someone with golden hair sleeping with her head on her arms.

Cersei. No, it couldn't be her. Because the woman beside you was holding your left hand tight in hers as she slept. And Cersei was not known to be that affectionate. Surely, you were not that worthy to be cared for by the Queen Mother.

Another pain shot up in your head, making you grunt and shut your eyes.

"Y/n?" Cersei's sleepy voice made through your ears before darkness has taken you once again.

~~~

It was day time the next time you were awake. Cersei wasn't there with you, making you think if you had only been dreaming about her.

Instead, there were Oberyn and Ellaria, welcoming you with full smiles on their faces. You could no longer feel any pain in your body. In fact, you were feeling elated, as if you were floating.

"Wa. . . Water," you managed to croak out. Ellaria hurriedly helped you up to give you a tiny sip of water. You had never felt your mouth so dry since the last time you made that silly expedition to Braavos as an act of rebellion against your father.

You looked around the room, looking for a certain woman that had been haunting your dreams. "Cersei?"

Ellaria chuckled. "She left for the Maester."

Oberyn snorted another laugh. "You just woke up from defeating the Mountain and the first two things you look for are water and Cersei."

You smiled from ear to ear, as you raised your arm before you, forefinger tracing the ceiling. "I feel like I'm . . . I'm flying."

"Qyburn has given you milk of the poppy for the pain," Oberyn said. "Probably a lot, I guess."

Eventually, your eyelids droop to a close as you went back into deep sleep, still smiling.

~~~

It was Tyrion who visited the chambers next when you woke up the third time. He was reading from a scroll when he noticed you stir awake.

"Lady Y/n," Tyrion said, climbing over a small ladder to see you. "The one who finally beat the Mountain."

You softly chuckled, a dull pain in your head.

"I'm forever in your debt, Lady Y/n," he went on. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything I can to give you."

"Water?" you suggested.

Tyrion only laughed as he helped you drink from a water goblet.

"You know . . . I was wrong."

You glanced at him, your mouth too weak to utter, as you lay back on the bed.

"I thought my sister will never be able to care for someone other than her children. I swore there was one time she almost beheaded one of the handmaidens who took care of you," he chuckled before he went silent, his eyes on the golden necklace with a lion pendant laid on the bedside table. Cersei's necklace. "But I believe you're no longer obliged to marry her, given the news about you offering Yronwood to set you both free from the marriage. Gone are the days of torment."

It made you feel sadness. You had no idea why. It was you who had fully decided to offer it to Tywin the first place. "H-How did she react?"

He only shrugged his shoulders. "I can tell she was a bit taken aback. But I haven't always been able to read Cersei growing up. She doesn't let her emotions show. You don't have to worry though, the future is not yet written. Just take a rest now."

~~~

Oberyn was there to visit you some time later, after Qyburn had changed the dressings of your wound. Apparently, you had broken some of your ribs and there were some bones disalignment, but none the Maester couldn't handle.

Taking advantage of the privacy, Oberyn began discussing to you in whispers that you'd be heading to Dorne soon and that he had something to show you about your birthright.

A lot had happened the time you were asleep. Stannis was executed by the Boltons, led by Lord Ramsay of House Bolton, who was said to be married to Sansa Stark. You could tell luck hadn't been good to Sansa, as you heard tales about Ramsay being a much worse monster than Joffrey.

"Winter is coming," Oberyn said out of nowhere. Your eyes only widened. You knew what he was talking about. You had read about the White Walkers and heard myths about them, but you always thought it was only a drunkard's gossip.

"The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow, sent a raven to every Lords in Westeros," he continued, pulling a scroll from his pocket, the same one you saw Tyrion was reading. "He witnessed it firsthand. And I think it's urgent that we moved south as quick as possible, knowing north would be attacked first."

"But . . . We couldn't just leave—"

"She's not your obligation anymore, Y/n," he said, knowing you were referring to Cersei. "But the sooner you get home, the sooner we'll figure out what to do about your succession."

"What do you mean? Daenerys is the Queen."

"You're four years older than her. Your sister Daenerys was born in Dragonstone where your mother Rhaella was last seen, before Stannis . . . before Stannis executed them all."

You could only grit your teeth. "But I'm a bastard. I'm not the rightful heir."

Oberyn looked around the room to ensure it was empty before he went on, "Daenerys is the Queen, Y/n. We're not contesting to that. Do you know why the Martells was the last house to swear fealty to King Robert? It was because we always believe Targaryens are the rightful heirs to the Iron Throne. But whenever someone wants to get that throne, what awaits them?"

There was a small pause. "Death," Oberyn said, "It's going to be difficult for Daenerys to get back the Iron Throne, it might even kill her. That's why she would need you by her side. You're the last two living Targaryens."

~~~

You awoke alone some time that night. Hearing the door creak open, you turned to look at the intruder.

It was Cersei. When she noticed you awake, she hesitated to enter until she stepped forward then closed the door behind her.

And gods, she looked so beautiful, you thought you were already dead upon witnessing such beauty.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she approached the bed slowly.

"Like I just got beaten by the Mountain," you responded, giving her a weak smile.

She chuckled softly, reaching the side of your bed. Her laughter rarely contained genuine amusement, but not when around you.

"You have the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard," you said, making the Lannister woman meet your gaze. "I've been dreaming about it. Your face. Your eyes. . . Sorry, Maester Qyburn said there might still be after effects from the milk of the poppy."

Cersei laughed as her hand went to hold yours, before letting go, turning her head to avoid your eyes.

"Oberyn said you're leaving the day after tomorrow," she said.

"So I've been told," you confirmed. "Oberyn might be too proud to admit it, but I think he misses their children."

Cersei smiled back before her lips turned into a frown, her eyes meeting yours.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you offer Yronwood?"

You threaded your fingers with hers and she took them. "I . . . I just thought you've been tortured enough that you don't deserve this. You should be allowed to marry someone you love at least. Or not to marry anyone at all if you don't feel like it."

There was silence. Cersei then went to sit on the side of the bed, eyes glistening with tears. "Are you sure it's not just me you're avoiding?"

You lifted your other hand forward and cupped her face, thumb tracing the tear off her cheek. She leaned unto your touch, closing her eyes.

"I will always love you, Cersei," you declared. "But you don't have to love me back."

She opened her eyes slowly, meeting yours. And you could tell hers spoke of uncertainty and adoration.

~~~

"I just can't believe it." Oberyn had been staring at you for a while as you helped the crew of the Martell ship.

When you didn't bother answering, your uncle only laughed. You sighed and placed the crate you were carrying on the floor. "What?"

"Y/n Martell," he announced proudly. "The one who finally killed the Mountain. The one who obtained justice for her aunt and cousins' death. I'm sure your father would be proud."

You forced a smile his way as you went back to what you were doing. You were sailing back home that day. Tywin had agreed to trust the Martells after the trial that almost got yourself killed.

Yet, you weren't sure what to expect back home. Oberyn told you there was something he'd show about your birthright. And with the fact you now knew Prince Doran was your real father, it didn't sit well on you how he'd react if he knew the truth.

With Trystane being your half brother, who you only heard from Ellaria that morning was engaged to Cersei's daughter, Princess Myrcella, things only got more complicated.

But that wasn't what you were sad about. It was because Cersei didn't show up and said her goodbyes to you when you left the palace. She wasn't even in the dining hall when you were all breaking the fast with the Lannisters, sending you blessings for your trip.

You didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. Not that she hadn't visited you since that night she cried on your bed with her hand in yours. The only souvenir you got was her necklace, hidden underneath your tunic. Cersei gave it to you that night, saying it was a gift from her mother, that it was special to her. And that was all you needed to know that you were special to her too.

You missed her terribly and you hadn't even left the Capital yet.

"Someone's going to get a farewell's kiss." Oberyn's voice brought you back to the present, making you straighten your posture and glare back at the Dornishman.

Oberyn then motioned his head behind you. And when you turned to glance, there she was, in her red flowing dress and golden hair elegantly braided. Cersei was heading your way, with what appeared were knights, handmaidens and servants trotting along behind her.

You bowed and greeted her when she reached the deck. "Your Grace."

"Lady Y/n," she said with a smile. "Prince Oberyn. I apologize for such a short notice but Tommen has advised me to visit Myrcella following the news of her engagement with Prince Trystane. A daughter will always need her mother's counsel, whether her suitor is good enough for her or not." Cersei's eyes were on your neck, the golden chain of her necklace visible. "Besides, it'll be nice to see Myrcella. I haven't seen her for a long time now."

Your eyes never left Cersei, stunned about what she said. Is she telling you she's going with you to Dorne?

When Oberyn nudged your arm, you finally snapped out of trance. "Yes, yes, we will set you a cabin, Your Grace."

Cersei thanked you before walking past you both, her perfume lingering around. Her servants, handmaidens and queensguard followed her through the ship, your eyes expecting a certain tall golden haired man with a fake gold hand.

"Where's Ser Jaime?" you couldn't help but ask.

"He couldn't come," Cersei replied as she turned back to you, giving you a somewhat mischievous smile before she let herself be led by one of the Dornish crew to her cabin.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

BRADLEY BRADSHAW - i still love you

x MITCHELL!FEM!reader

(requests open)

SUMMARY: bradley says you should communicate more with him, you tell him that he should be less protective of you. so your dad steps in helps you solve your problems.

WORD COUNT: 5051

GENRE: angst-ish, fluff at the end <3

CONTENT WARNING: english is NOT my first language, i had to get help from the internet about these plane things (i understand nothing), idk if plane or jet is the right word to call an F-18, but lets pretend it is :D

NOT PROOFREAD :D

pacing in the small kitchen of your house, your arms were crossed over your chest as your mind was racing. the air was thick with unspoken words, and your heart pounded in your chest. across from you, stood bradley with his jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides. 

“i can’t believe you went behind my back like that, bradley,” you scoff, not holding back the hurt in your voice. 

 he ran a hand through his short hair, “i didn’t go behind your back. i was trying to help! your dad agreed with me—“

“of course! of course, he agreed with you. like he always does! but that is not the point,” you cut him off. “this isn’t about him, it’s about us. you made a decision to get me off the mission without even talking to me!”

"you've got to be kidding me," bradley's voice was low and angry. "you didn't even tell me you were-

"i didn't need to tell you, bradley. i'm a pilot, just like you, it was classified!" you interrupted, voice rising. “i’ve been around fighter jets my entire life life. i know the risks better than anyone. and it is not your decision to make!”

he scoffed, shaking his head, "classified? you could've said something. a heads-up, at least. i had to hear it from hangman, of all people, God knows how he even got that information. do you know how that feels?"

"i don't owe you a whole play-by-play of every mission i'll be going on. you know that is not how it works!" your voice getting an octave higher as frustration started rising in you. "we're doing the same job, bradley. i'm not going to run to you for permission every time i'm assigned something dangerous."

rooster shook his head, "that is not what this is about, and you know it!" bradley's voice cracked as he pointed his finger at you, accusingly. "you've been reckless, and it's not just this mission. you've been pushing your luck lately, takin' unnecessary risks that-"

"taking risks that what?" you cut him off, taking a step forward. "that you think you wouldn't take when you'll get the opportunity? don't act like you're the only one who's capable of making tough calls up there."

bradley ran a hand through his hair, "it's not the same. you've been flying like you've got something to prove, like you're invincible. i've seen it, multiple times!'

"maybe i do have something to prove!" you shouted. "do you know what it's like being maverick's daughter? everyone assumes i'm only here because of him. that i'm not good enough if he wasn't here!"

"i never said that," bradley yelled back. "i know how good you are, but that doesn't mean you can just ignore the consequences. this ain't a game, y/n! one wrong move and-"

"and what? i could die?" you finished for him, your voice hard. "yeah, bradley, i know."

his eyes hardened for a second. “i am just trying to protect you! you don’t need to be involved in such things, you know how dangerous things are-“ 

you felt your blood boil, "you do not get to control when and if i fly! i made a call, and it worked. i got them out of a situation that they couldn't get out of alone," you took a breath. "don't act like you're the only one who's scared of the consequences. but i'm not going to let fear control how i fly, or how i choose to live my life."

"yeah, this time," bradley snapped. "but one day it ain't gonna work, and i'm gonna have to watch you get hurt, or worse-" he stopped himself.

his face was twisted with frustration, "this is not just about fear. it's about trust - trusting the people around you." bradley shook his head, “i lost my dad to this job, remember? i can’t lose you too, you’re asking me to sit back and watch while you put yourself in danger.”

you ran a hand through your hair. “i’m not asking you to watch from the sidelines, bradley. i’m asking you to trust me, to treat me like an equal, not someone you have to shield all the time.”

bradley sighed, "i thought we were in this together, but lately, it feels like you're flying solo. you should've told me about the mission, and you should've thought twice before pulling that stunt in the air today."

"you can't protect me from everything, bradley," you said, your voice quieter now. "we are in this together, but that means you have to trust me to do my job. i'm not reckless, i'm doing what i've been trained to do."

bradley let out a frustrated breath, "i do trust you, but you have to meet me halfway. you shook your head, "we are a team, bradley. but you have to stop treating me like i'm going to break every time things get tough."

he looked at you, the only thing between you two was a heavy silence, before you walked outside towards your dads house.

a week had passed since the fight, and you had ignored bradley every single day. you hadn’t spoken to him since that night in your house. every time he tried to approach you, you either turned away or conveniently found yourself busy with something - anything else. 

you knew your friends noticed the change, but neither of them said anything. they respected your silence, even if someone gave you the occasional concerned look. 

the hangar buzzed with energy as the team prepped for the next mission briefing, but your eyes were completely focused on the clipboard in front of you, pretending to read the details. you could feel bradley’s eyes on you angrily cross the room, but you refused to acknowledge him. 

“you okay?” phoenix asked softly, disrupting your train of thought. 

you forced a tight smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just.. reading.” phoenix raised an eyebrow but didn’t keep asking questions. she had known you long enough to understand that when you didn’t want to talk, it was best to let you be. nat glanced over at bradley, who was standing near the planes, staring at you like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to approach you. 

bob, ever the quiet observer, gave you a look. “if you ever need anything, just let us know.”

you appreciated bob. he had a thing of being there for people without pushing. which made the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter. 

at the mission briefing, you found your spot next to phoenix, grateful for the buffer she provided between you and bradley. you sensed him sitting just a few seats away, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glance in his direction. so, you kept your eyes on your father, who was explaining the mission.

"phoenix, bob, you'll be running a close-formation drill. i want you tight and focused," maverick said, his voice commanding as always.

"y/n, you'll assist in the observation and debrief."

you nodded, keeping your face neutral, it wasn't anything usual you did things alone, usually working with bradley. observation duty meant you didn't get the chance to fly, and it gave you the perfect chance to stay away from bradley. the last thing you wanted was to be stuck in a jet with him.

"bradshaw," maverick called out, pulling your attention (unwillingly) to him, "you're up on solo drills today. i want you working on precision landing. that means, stay sharp."

bradley nodded, though his gaze flickered towards you for the briefest second. you kept your expression to the front, refusing to give him any acknowledgment.

once the briefing wrapped up, everyone began to filter out to the tarmac. you stuck close to your friends, walking with them as they headed to their aircraft. bradley trailed behind, clearly wanting to catch up with you, but hesitated as he watched you being in a conversation with nat about fuel calculations - anything to keep your mind occupied.

"you sure you're good?" phoenix asked you as you reached the jets. "you've been off all day."

you took a breath, "it's just.. bradley. we had a fight, and i don't wanna talk to him yet." phoenix frowned, glancing over her shoulder at where bradley stood a few feet away, looking frustrated and lost. "you can't avoid him forever, you know."

you nodded, and bob gave a sympathetic nod, adjusting his glasses. you appreciated their concern. as phoenix and bob climbed into their F-18, you took a step back to give them room to prep for takeoff. you took your clipboard and started ticking off boxes for the check up.

the sun was starting to set, casting shadows over the hangar. you were leaning against one of the vacant jets, deep in thought as you watched the fading light reflect off the metal wings. it had been a long day - avoiding him.

you sighed and pushed yourself off the F-18, wiping the sweat from your forehead. you needed a break, or at the least a moment to breathe. before you could turn to head inside, footsteps approached from behind, but they weren't the ones you'd been bracing yourself for, for the entire day.

"evening, y/n," the person turned out to be jake. you redirected your vision from the wing to your clipboard. "hangman," you nodded. "what brings you here?"

he strolled up beside you, hands tucked into the pockets of his flight suit, wearing that trademark smirk of his. "saw you out here all alone, figured you could use some company?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no intent behind it. “i can take care of myself, thanks”

“never said you couldn’t,” jake said with a smirk, leaning against the F-18. his casual stance did little to hide the intensity in his gaze as he looked at you.

"i'm fine, jake," you said, trying to keep the conversation light. "just doing my task."

he cocked his head to the side, clearly not buying it. "uh-uh, sure doesn't look like it. you've been quieter than usual, which, for you, is saying something," jake took a few steps back, blocking the sun off that was lower now. "anything to do with a certain aviator with a mustache, or... am i reading this wrong?"

you shot hangman a look, but he didn't stop smiling. "you know, for someone who's so smart, you're real bad at hiding what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," jake's smirk only widened.

you gave a big sigh, knowing it was pointless to dodge him. he wasn't the type to let things go easily, especially when there was a chance to get on someone's nerves. "what makes you think this has anything to do with bradley?"

hangman gave you a look, "i'm not blind, y/n. everyone's noticed the way you two have been acting lately. hell, even bob asked if something was up, and that guy avoids drama like the plague."

you huffed a laugh at that. bob was definitely not one to get involved in anyone's personal life, which only meant your fight with bradley had become more obvious than you thought.

"it's... complicated," you shrugged. you didn't want to elaborate, you didn't really think you had a good reason to be mad at bradley.

jake just nodded, surprisingly not pushing for more details. "well, complicated's a word i know all too well. but whatever it is, you can't keep ignoring him, ya know."

you rolled your eyes, "you sound exactly like phoenix."

"smart woman, phoenix," jake shot back at you with a grin. "you should listen to her."

you didn't respond immediately, the silence between you settling into something a bit more comfortable. the truth was, you didn't know how to face bradley yet. it was easier to ignore the whole situation - easier to ignore him.

after a few moments, jake glanced at you, his voice a bit more serious. "look, i'm not here to stir the pot - at least, not too much. but if you ever need to talk... i'm around. no judgement."

his offer caught you off guard. jake wasn't exactly known for being the most emotionally available person, but there was something in his tone that told you he meant it. maybe beneath the cocky exterior, there was more to him than he let on.

"thanks," you nodded, offering a small smile. "i'll keep that in mind."

jake gave a nod in return, "anytime, darlin'."

jake turned around to leave after giving your shoulder a slight squeeze. you watched him walk towards the tarmac, where his F-18 was.

just as jake waltzed towards his F-18, he spotted bradley making his way across the hangar, bradley's expression was quite unreadable, his eyes locked on the same spot where you and jake had just been talking.

"well, look who it is," jake said, his tone deceptively light. "bradshaw, got a minute?" jake called out, casually strolling over to intercept him.

bradley stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. "yeah, what's up, hangman?"

jake's grin widened as he tilted his head toward you. "just thought you might want to know - y/n's been keepin' busy. got a lot on her plate, but she's holdin' her own. probably needs a little more time to figure things out, though," jake winked at bradley and put his hand on his shoulder.

bradley's expression hardened, and slapped jake's hand off his shoulder. "and what the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"relax," jake said, his tone light. "i'm just sayin'. give her some space."

bradley's jaw tightened, "i don't need a lesson on how to handle my own problems, jake."

hangman raised an eyebrow, "didn't mean it like that, man. just offering a little insight from someone who's seen it all before."

bradley shrugged and looked away from jake, "mind your own business, seresin."

you were sat at the kitchen table, a mug of hot chocolate cooling in front of you. It was too late to drink a good mug of coffee. the evening was quiet, your dad was lounging across from you, a plate of leftovers in from of him. he was in one of his storytelling moods, something you'd started appreciated over the years. even if you'd heard some of the stories more times than you could count.

"right? so, there i was," maverick began, his eyes lighting up with a spark, "flying an F-18 during a mission over the persian gulf. everything was going smoothly until we got, like, a distress call about an aircraft in trouble."

you nodded absently, staring into your coffee, your mind miles away, tangled up in the mess with bradley. you had been staying in mav's spare room for the past two days, needing a break from your own space. your father's voice was a comforting background noise.

"and then, just as we're closing in on the aircraft, we started having issues with our own plane," maverick laughed as his hands animated and described the scene. "the gauges were going haywire, and the engine started sputtering. and, i knew! we had to acht fast."

he paused, noticing you weren't engaged in his story as usual. his gaze softened. "y/n? you okay, kiddo? you seem like you're a million miles away."

you blinked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. "sorry, dad. just... thinking.

your dad's expression grew more concerned. "wanna talk about it? i'm here to listen."

you took a deep breath, "feeling the weight of the past week press heavily "it's just... bradley and i had a fight. i've been avoiding him." you shrugged, "he's been trying to reach out, but i'm not sure how to fix this."

your dad's eyes softened, he always was a good listener. "i see, and it that why you've been staying here for the past couple of days?"

you nodded, "yeah, sorry. i just needed some space. i wasn't sure how to handle everything, and it felt easier to just be here."

mav laned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "well, you know, i'm glad you're here, even if it's under tough circumstances. sometimes, a change of... scenery can give you some clarity. but avoiding problems doesn't solve them."

you looked at him, "yeah."

mav's gaze was steady, full of the wisdom that only years of experience could bring. "life's a lot like a flying jet. you've got to keep your eyes on the instruments, stay focused on your course. but, also be ready to adjust when things don't go as planned. sometimes you hit turbulence, and somethings you've got to do some emergency maneuvers. but no matter what, you cannot let the storm cloud your vision."

you nodded slowly, feeling a bit of tension in your chest ease. "that.. kinda makes sense? i'm not sure."

"and as for bradley," maverick continued, his voice gentle but firm, "communication is key. if you're struggling with something, talking it out can make a big difference. don't let fear of pride keep you from making things right."

you nodded, letting the advice your dad gave you sink in.

mav's expression softened, "it's natural to need time, and it's okay to take a step back. but running away won't make it disappear. sometimes, you've got to face it."

you nodded, feeling mixture of relief and determination. "thanks, dad."

he gave you a reassuring smile, then reached across the table to give your hand a gentle squeeze. "you're stronger than you know, kid. i'm here for you, no matter what happens. and when you're ready to talk to him, make sure you're doing it for the right reasons."

you managed to give hima smile, feeling like you were 10 years old again and he was giving you advice, "thanks dad.

his eyes twinkled with pride, happy that his rambling made somewhat a bit of sense to you, "anytime, kiddo. now, let me finish that story about the F-14 before you fall asleep on me."

you laughed at your dad's comment, feeling more grounded. as mav resumed his story, you let yourself be carried away by the familiar rhythm of his voice.

rooster walked down the hallway toward the locker room, his shoes echoing against the hard floor. the low hum of the hangar was the only sound he could hear, he was way too early, but he didn't care. he could only focus on the tight knot in his chest. he hadn't spoken to you in days, and the last time he tried, jake had been there, again, standing in the way - both figuratively and literally. that only added hurt and anger to the fire that was burning inside him.

he sighed, and ran a hand through his messy hair. it had been a week since you two fought, and he couldn't shake the guilt or frustration. every attempt to have a talk with you seemingly failed, and now, the distance between you two felt bigger than ever.

as he approached his locker, still deep in thought, a voice called out to him.

"rooster."

he stopped in his tracks to see maverick approaching him, hands in his flight suit pockets, that familiar look of concern in his eyes.

"hey, mav," bradley said, forcing a smile. "what's up?"

mav stepped closer to him, "i've been meaning to catch up with you. figured now was as good a time as any."

rooster nodded slowly, this wasn't casual small talk - bradley figured. he leaned against his locker, crossing his arms as he waited for maverick to continue.

mav studied bradley for a second, his gaze thoughtful, "something's been weighing on you."

bradley sighed, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "yeah. it's.. y/n," he looked away, almost embarrassed to admit to aloud to her dad. "we had a fight, and things haven't been the same ever since. and, lile, i've been tryin' to fix it, but she's been avoiding me. i don't know what to do."

mav's eyes softened with understanding. he had known brad for years, practically raised him from afar after his father's death. maverick had and will always see bradley as family, and seeing him in this state tugged at his heart.

"yeah, figured as much," maverick replied gently, leaning against the lockers beside him. "she's been staying at my place for the past couple of days. it's clear to say that whatever happened between you two is affecting her just as much."

his face fell, guilt swirling in his chest. "i didn't know she was staying with you." maverick gave him a nod, "she needed some space, to think and stuff. but, trust me, from what i've seen, this isn't just about space. it's about communication."

brad shook his head, frustrated. "i've been trying to talk to her, mav. but, every time i try, she just pushes me away. shuts me out."

"it's not about fixing it right away. you've got to give her and yourself room to feel what you're feeling. but that doesn't mean you should stop trying. she cares about you, like you care about her."

brad looked down at the locker floor, his fists clenching at his sides. "i don't know if she still does. after everything i did - said, maybe she's better off without me."

your dad frowned, shaking his head. "no, don't do that. don't start doubting yourself because of one rough patch. relationships - especially the kind that matter - they're never easy. you're gonna hit turbulence. what really matters is how you handle it."

rooster swallowed hard, the knot in his chest easing slightly. "it feels like no matter what i do, it's never enough. and i know, i messed up, and now i don't know how to make it right."

"look, kid, i know what it's like to carry the weight of your mistakes. god knows i've made my share of them. but the key is learning from them. you and y/n have something real, something worth fighting for. but you cannot expect it to be fixed overnight."

bradley met maverick's eyes. "so what do i do? just wait?"

he shook his head, "no. you don't just wait. you just be patient, but also let her know that you're still there, still fighting for her. she needs to see that you're willing to put in the work."

brad ran a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging with the weight of it all. "i don't know how to get through to her."

"you lover her, right?"

bradley didn't hesitate. "yeah. i do."

"then show her that," mav replied simply. "not with words, but with actions. be there for her, even when she's pulling away from you. let her know that you will be her person, even when things are going to be hard."

bradley nodded, his throat feeling pretty tight with emotion. he'd heard maverick's advice before, in different times. but it hit harder than before.

mav put a hand on roster's shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "she's my daughter, bradley, and you're like a son to me. i know both of you well enough to see that this relationship is something worth fighting for. don't give up on her, or yourself."

"thanks, mav," bradley blinked. he gave bradley a small smile in reply.

"anytime, kid. you've got a good heart, don't let the fear of losing her stop you from showing her how much you care."

bradley nodded and watched maverick walk away, the weight on his chest lifting a bit. he turned his head when he heard a locker close.

"wow, i think i just cried," hangman clasped his hands together, as he stepped in bradley's view. "you heard all of that?" bradley's mouth hung open.

"i think you've just ruined a nice moment," another voice cut in. bradley moved towards the sound. "bob? are you kidding me?" rooster scoffed.

"i have an idea, you could show up with flowers," bob suggested. "and her favorite snacks and movies," hangman cut in. bob and bradley gave him a weird look. "what? i have my fair share with the ladies," jake winked.

that afternoon, rooster found himself in a small flower shop, sighing. he didn't know what he was supposed to give her, he knew her favorite flower was a hibiscus syriacus, but he wasn't sure if he saw them lying anywhere.

luckily for him, the cashier decided to be nice enough and help him make a bouquet full of pink, purple and red flowers. it almost costed him fifty dollars, but he didn't care - for his girl he'd give everything he'd had, if it meant to get her back.

the knock on your door was soft almost thoughtful. it was the first night you'd slept at your own place and you hadn’t been expecting anyone, least of all this late in the evening. wrapped in a blanket, you hesitated for a moment before dragging yourself off the couch, still feeling the weight of the past few days pressing down on you.

as you opened the door, you froze.

there, standing in the dim glow of the porch light, was bradley. he looked nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he held out a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a dvd case in the other.

you blinked, not sure what to say. the bouquet was stunning—pink, purple, and red flowers carefully arranged, each petal as vibrant and fresh as it could be. you knew immediately that bradley had gone out of his way to pick these specifically, knowing exactly which colors you loved most. you blushed a bit.

"hey," he said softly. "can i come in?"

you swallowed, still processing the sight of him standing there, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. slowly, you nodded and stepped aside, letting him into the cosy beach house.

bradley walked in slowly, like he was afraid to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment. he placed the flowers gently on your kitchen counter, glancing back at you with an uncertain smile.

"i, uh…" he started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "i wasn’t sure how to fix things between us, but i thought i’d try starting with these."

your eyes flicked between him and the flowers, the tension you’d been holding onto for days softening ever so slightly. "they’re beautiful," you said quietly, your voice betraying how much the gesture meant to you, even if you weren’t ready to fully admit it.

bradley let out a small breath of relief. "i hoped you’d like them."

you shifted your gaze to the dvd still clutched in his hand. "and what’s that?"

his face broke into a sheepish grin as he held up the case. "your favorite movie. i figured… well, maybe we could watch it together. i thought it might be a way to… i don’t know, make things feel a little more normal. or at least give us a chance to talk."

you glanced at the title—the notebook, your all-time favorite. it was the movie you turned to whenever you needed comfort or an escape from reality, and bradley knew it. the fact that he had brought it with him, even with all the awkwardness hanging between you, showed just how much he had been thinking about you.

your heart softened a little more, but you couldn’t help the guarded feeling that still lingered. "bradley, you didn’t have to do all this. i’ve been avoiding you for a reason."

"i know," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "i get that. and i’m sorry for everything that’s happened. but i didn’t want to keep pushing you to talk before you were ready. i just… i wanted to show you that i’m still here. that i’m not going anywhere, no matter how hard things get."

you looked away, unsure of what to say. the past week had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the fight you had with bradley still hung heavy in your mind. but here he was, standing in front of you, making an effort not just to apologize but to be there for you, in the way you needed most.

"i’ve been thinking about what went wrong between us," bradley continued, stepping a little closer, though still giving you space. "i messed up. i didn’t listen to you the way i should have, and i know that. i just… i want to make it right. i don’t expect everything to go back to normal overnight, but i want you to know i’m willing to put in the work. for us."

you felt the lump in your throat grow as his words washed over you. it wasn’t just the flowers or the movie—it was the way bradley was looking at you, so full of hope and sincerity, like he would do anything to fix what had been broken between you.

for a long moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the past week hanging between you. but then, something shifted. the warmth of the flowers, the comfort of the movie, and the vulnerability in bradley’s eyes—it all made you realize that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to take that first step forward.

"bradley," you said softly, your voice catching slightly, "i’m still hurt. i need time. but… i don’t want to keep avoiding you. i don’t want us to be like this."

he nodded, relief evident in his expression. "i understand. i’ll give you all the time you need. i’m not going anywhere."

you took a deep breath, then nodded toward the living room. "you can stay. we can watch the movie. maybe it’ll help."

bradley smiled, that familiar, gentle smile that had always made you feel safe. "i’d like that."

the two of you moved to the couch, settling in with the blanket spread across both your laps. as the princess bride began to play, bradley didn’t try to force a conversation. instead, he just sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting, offering you exactly what you needed in that moment—no pressure, no expectations. just him, showing up for you.

and as the movie rolled on, you found yourself relaxing more and more, leaning into his arms.

[juniperdugong]

Super Weird - Vernon

WC: 867 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Suggested bullying (?)/ reader being an outcast || Vernon x GN!reader (established relationship)

A/N: For all my weirdos because I'm a weirdo and Vernon is too, ain't no denying it, just a buncha freaks in masks huh?

"Do you think I'm weird?"

Vernon looks at you, eyes squinting in confusion and his expression shifting into a scowl seeing that you're completely serious, "Whaf dar haw ah yo tarking abo-?" (What the hell are you talking about?)

His mouth is filled with the last and biggest spoonful of food that you knew you couldn't finish so - as the routine goes - you gave it to Vernon. He furiously chews at a pace that you know probably isn't safe and with a large and rather painful-looking gulp his mouth is free of obstructions. "What did you just say?" his tone sounds more lightly confused but his face gives quiet anger more than anything.

"Hansol you heard me. Do you think I'm weird?" You speak very monotonously, a trait the two of you shared.

"Of course you're weird." He says it like it's a matter of fact. His expression completely drops into the deadpan face you're used to. He ignores how perplexed you look as he brings the dishes to the sink.

"And you're okay with that?" You ask out of genuine curiosity, you know that most people would outcast someone they think is weird - it's something you've often experienced at school and work. So if he thought you were strange then why would he stick around?

"Why wouldn't I be?" He looks up at you almost accusatorily as he scrubbed the dishes and put them to dry.

"I mean- It doesn't bother you at all that I'm abnormal or weird? I know people talk about how I sound or that I'm too... strange and stuff. It isn't lost on me but if you also know that then why do you stick around?" You let your words spill just wanting to get down to the root of the issue while escaping the heavy-handed approach of blurting out "Why would you want to be with someone you find weird?".

"Nope." That was his reply. His. Entire. Answer. Just "Nope." and then he picked his phone up from the table and went to sit in the living room. You know he saw your face as it contorted into even more confusion and bafflement but he ignored it!

You did the only sensible thing, of course, and immediately trailed him and sat right next to him, snatching his phone out of his hand as he opened up a game. You had his attention and yet he seemed confused? As if he wasn't the one who completely dodged your questioning before.

"Yes?"

"You have nothing else to say?"

He gave himself a moment to think, you thought for a millisecond that perhaps he's finally found a more appropriate answer, "Nope."

"Huh?" You shake your head completely bewildered. "You know I'm weird and you still want to be with me, why is that?"

"It's probably because I love you or something weird like that-" He turns to you as a blush sets in. Chuckling he gives a small pinch to your cheeks, fighting the cuteness aggression he feels, "Don't think about it too much though, that's a fact you should already know about by now... I would hope you know about by now..." He tilts his head as he says that last part as if questioning if you really did know about his love after all this time.

Vernon's love for you was something you never questioned, even though he wasn't exactly the best at physically expressing it he always made sure to assure you through words, actions, or gifts. It was a bit odd honestly, like he had some sort of psychic powers to know what your needs are. Maybe...

"I think you're the weird one actually-" you start thinking out loud.

"Yeah? Maybe."

"And you accept that, Han?"

"Mhm." His answers are blunt and to the point, you have to wonder if he's just saying this to satisfy your curiosity- "I'm not just saying that by the way. I know that I'm weird, babe."

"You a wizard?" He squints as he looks at you, waiting for clarification, "You read my mind like one."

"Nope, I'm just a really good boyfriend I think." He relaxes into the couch, pulling you onto his lap and retrieving his phone from your grasp.

"So we're both just weird and we both just have to accept that?"

"Looks like it, babe."

"huh..." You ponder on it for a moment as your eyes look around your shared apartment. Shelves filled with knick-knacks of yours, pillows in the shape of cartoon characters, anime on the TV currently... "Yeah, okay." You retract your worry as quick as it came, it was an absurd thought that you let yourself get caught up in any way. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you watch him play his game.

"Hansol?"

"What?"

"Why am I seeing a half-naked man on your screen right now?"

"That is my current boyfriend, Sylus."

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, he meets your nebulous expression with a peck on the lips. "You are weird, Han."

"I know baby. It's honestly weirder that you heard me say all of that and that's your only reaction."

A/N: Hahaha totally not something to sate you guys as I continue working on the Cheol angst fic... (Please help me I'm 3000 words in and still haven't gotten through half of my bullet points) Tbf I did say it was gonna be long though... First Vernon fic though! Plus comeback around the corner, yeah let's all talk about all the whiplash that's been going on in Caratland rn...

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