#all of your encouraging and heart warming asks mean the world to me

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

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CHAPTER TEN: HOW IT'S ENDS

synopsis: on the last day of the cruise, you confront the life-changing choices made over the past few days and embrace the uncertain, but hopeful, future awaiting you.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), alternate universe, fluffy, Anakin being a hopeless romantic

w: 3.2k

a/n: hello there,  I confess, words seem to escape me right now 🥺💕 This idea came to me so randomly—I was listening to Juno, and suddenly all the pieces started falling into place. I never expected the direction it would take, but wow… I’m so grateful for all the love, comments, and encouragement along the way! 🥹💖

I hope you enjoy the ending as much as I loved creating it 🫶✨, and who knows—maybe we’ll meet again on the next adventure! Thank you so much for being here, and kisses to all of you 😘💌

📣 Special shoutout to everyone who commented—y’all literally had me smiling from ear to ear 😭😁💕 Your words mean the world to me! 🌸💫

This isn't how it ends This isn't where we put down our pens Go tell the businessmen This isn't how it ends

The golden rays of the morning sun streamed through the small oval window of the cruise ship room. You had forgotten to close the curtains the night before, allowing the early light to slowly warm the space. The soft glow reflected on Anakin’s sandy blond hair, the messy strands splayed against the crisp white pillowcase. His chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic motion, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close. His chin rested comfortably in your hair, which still carried the faint scent of your shampoo.

The light crept higher, reaching your face, and you stirred sleepily, the warmth stirring a quiet discomfort. You mumbled, your eyelids fluttering before you finally gave in and blinked yourself awake, squinting to adjust to the brightness.

The sunrise outside was breathtaking, the sun climbing out of the endless ocean to paint the sky in shades of gold and amber. It was beautiful, but bittersweet—this was the last morning you’d wake up to this view, the last morning of the cruise. Soon, you’d be stepping off this ship and back into the rhythm of everyday life: college, work, and Netflix marathons filling the gaps where adventure had been.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the quiet sound of Anakin stirring. Your fingers absently traced through his soft hair, and he responded with a sleepy hum, leaning into your touch as if drawn by instinct. His nose scrunched slightly, and the corner of his lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” you whispered, your voice calm and teasing.

He let out a low, playful grunt, refusing to open his eyes just yet. “What? I was being so convincing,” he replied, his voice rough with sleep but laced with humor.

A smile tugged at your lips as he finally opened his eyes, those stormy blues meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart ache. You relaxed back into his embrace as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand trailing soothing patterns down the length of your back.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmured, his tone tender.

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled groggily, your gaze wandering from his to the simple white wallpaper with thin blue stripes on the wall. The room fell quiet again, but not uncomfortably so. The events of the past few days loomed in your mind, crashing over you like the waves outside hitting the hull of the ship.

“What’s on your mind, little angel?” Anakin asked softly, tilting his head to study your face. There was no judgment in his eyes, only curiosity and concern, like he was ready to carry whatever burden you were holding.

“So much happened this weekend,” you admitted after a moment, your voice thoughtful. His fingers found yours, intertwining with your open palm as his hand rested on your belly.

“Good things, I hope,” he murmured, his playful tone lighting up the stillness of the morning.

You didn’t answer immediately, the weight of everything making your chest feel tight. But when you met his gaze, the soft lines of his face, the warmth in his expression, made you feel safe enough to exhale.

“Yes,” you said at last, your voice soft but firm. “I’m just… taking stock of things. I can’t describe how happy I am to be with you, but it still feels like there’s so much ahead of us.”

“We’ll do this together,” Anakin promised, his voice steady with quiet determination. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles that sent warmth coursing through you. “We’ll figure everything out, one step at a time.”

A small smile broke across your face as the tension eased, replaced by the overwhelming love you felt for him.

“Now,” he said, his tone shifting to something more playful, “let’s enjoy that amazing shower one last time.”

Before you could protest, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal-style across the room. A surprised laugh escaped you, and you clung to his shoulders as he grinned down at you, his mischievous spark fully returned.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, giggling as he carried you into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the air.

After a shared bath that lasted far longer than planned—thanks to the endless trail of kisses and caresses exchanged under the hot spray—you were finally dressed for the day. But that didn’t mean you were ready. Not for the inevitable moment where you’d have to face your best friend’s entire family after everything that had unfolded this weekend.

Speaking of him, Luke approached with an apologetic look that made you pause. The first thought that popped into your mind, unbidden, was how Skywalker men had perfected the art of looking like they were about to whine. But you shook the thought away, focusing on the present.

“Can we talk?” Luke asked, his voice calm but tinged with hesitation. His arms were clasped behind his back, a telltale sign of his nervousness.

“Okay,” you nodded, guiding him to the edge of the ship. The salty breeze tousled your hair as you leaned against the iron railing, staring out at the endless expanse of the sea.

Luke leaned beside you, quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spilling out quickly. “I completely overreacted. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking, insulting you like that?”

You glanced at him, surprised by his candidness.

“I mean,” he continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “it’s still kind of weird—really weird—knowing you’re with my dad. But nothing about that gave me the right to be such a jerk to you. To both of you.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “I’m sorry.”

You softened at his sincerity. “I understand you were frustrated.”

“And acting like a dick,” he added bluntly, cutting you off before you could respond.

You couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter. “That too.”

Luke smiled sheepishly, but the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him. “You know, my parents’ marriage has been a mess for as long as I can remember. I guess part of me still held on to this dumb, idealized idea that maybe they’d fix it. Like, one big family Christmas, you know? But… honestly, a divorce probably would’ve avoided a lot of shit.” He exhaled heavily, his gaze fixed on the distant waves. “So, yeah. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming. I just… wasn’t ready to deal with it.”

You remained silent, giving him the space to work through his thoughts.

“I just…” Luke turned to you, his voice softer now. “I just want my best friend back. I know I don’t deserve it after how I acted, but you’ve always been there for me. We’ve been through so much together, and the idea of losing that? It sucks. It hurts. A lot.”

His words tugged at your heart, and you reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Well, you’re not off the hook yet. You still have to make it up to me for all the trouble you caused,” you teased, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

Luke grinned, the tension between you dissolving into something lighter. “Fair enough,” he replied, then added with a smirk, “Although, can’t I just delegate that job to my dad?”

Your jaw dropped, and you swatted his arm with a playful punch. “Idiot.”

He winced in mock pain, clutching his shoulder. “Hey, I’m fragile! Besides, I’ve already been through enough trauma—like seeing you two together. Please, I’m begging you, no kissing in front of me ever again. My therapist is already going to have a field day.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Luke’s grin widened, and for the first time in days, things felt normal again. It was good to have your friend back, the ease of your dynamic slipping into place as naturally as breathing.

For a few moments, the two of you simply stood there, side by side, watching the ocean stretch endlessly before you. The sound of the waves lapping against the ship’s hull filled the comfortable silence, broken only when Leia’s voice called out over the sea breeze.

“Come on, you two! Lunch is ready! And it’s the last one before we dock, so don’t miss it!”

Luke straightened, rolling his eyes but grinning all the same. “Let’s go before she starts bossing us around like mom.”

You laughed as the two of you turned and made your way toward the dining area, the weight of the past weekend finally starting to lift.

Anakin sat at the end of the table, his fingers drumming nervously against the edge of his wine glass. Padmé was seated at the opposite end, mirroring the first dinner of the anniversary celebration that now felt like a lifetime ago. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him, but he was too on edge to laugh. Instead, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt far too tight.

“Relax, Ani. She’s not going to run away from you,” Padmé teased from her seat, her tone amused. Then, with a mischievous wink at her soon-to-be ex-husband, she added, “Besides, Luke mentioned she can’t swim.”

Anakin sighed, shaking his head at her teasing. “Hilarious,” he muttered, taking a sip of his wine to mask the grin threatening to surface.

The moment the dining room doors opened, and you walked in with Luke, Anakin almost spilled his drink in his haste to stand. In a clumsy blur, he scrambled to pull out a chair for you, nearly knocking over the table in the process. Han and Leia exchanged amused glances as they went to greet Padmé, who watched the scene unfold with a calm smile.

Padmé hid her smirk behind her glass, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Oh, how clumsy Anakin could be when he was in love. It only took one of your smiles to turn him into a nervous wreck—a far cry from the confident, mature man of 40 years.

Anakin sat at the end of the table, Padmé at the other, mirroring the seating arrangement from the awkward dinner at the start of the cruise. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but instead of laughing, he found himself tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt.

“Relax, Ani. She’s not going to run away from you,” Padmé teased from her seat, her tone amused. Then, with a mischievous wink at her soon-to-be ex-husband, she added, “Besides, Luke mentioned she can’t swim.”

Anakin shot her a look, shaking his head as he sighed. “Hilarious,” he replied dryly, taking a sip of his wine. But his attempt at composure vanished in an instant when he saw you and Luke enter the dining room. He nearly knocked over the table in his haste to get up and pull out your chair.

Padmé hid her smirk behind her glass, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Oh, how clumsy Anakin could be when he was in love. It only took one of your smiles to turn him into a nervous wreck—a far cry from the confident, mature man of 40 years.

Once everyone was seated, Padmé tapped her knife against her glass to capture the room’s attention. The gentle chime cut through the soft hum of conversation, and all eyes turned to her.

“First of all,” Padmé began, her voice calm and measured as she looked directly at you, “I owe you an apology.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, the words catching you completely off guard.

“You didn’t deserve the accusations I threw at you,” Padmé continued, sincerity evident in her tone. “My relationship with Anakin has been over for so many years, and yet, I let my frustration and pride get the better of me. I was unfair to you, and I regret my behavior. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. This was the second apology you’d received today, and it left you reeling. “I… appreciate your sincerity,” you finally managed, your voice soft but genuine.

Anakin, sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand in silent reassurance.

“And,” Anakin chimed in, clearing his throat, “since we’re clearing the air… in case anyone didn’t know, Padmé and I are getting a divorce.”

Han, ever the opportunist for humor, couldn’t resist. “Took you long enough, huh?” he quipped, earning an elbow to the ribs from Leia.

“Ow,” Han muttered under his breath, sitting back in his chair with a sheepish grin.

Padmé chuckled softly before continuing. “Like your father said,” she addressed Leia and Luke, her tone gentle yet firm, “our marriage has been more of a partnership than a romance for a long time now. The feelings that once held us together are gone, and we stayed together thinking it was the best thing for the family. But in truth, we were holding ourselves back. By clinging to the past, we denied ourselves the opportunity to find happiness again.”

She glanced between Anakin and you, her gaze calm but filled with understanding. “We’re older now. Wiser, I’d like to think. And we know that life is too short to live without love. So, here’s to new beginnings and to embracing the future.”

“Cheers to that,” Anakin murmured, lifting his glass. He turned to you with an affectionate smile, his eyes shining with gratitude.

Everyone followed suit, raising their glasses in a toast.

As the moment settled, Leia broke the silence with a question, her practical side shining through. “So… who’s going to get the house?” she asked, her tone curious. “Not that I’m complaining, but, you know, having two houses is nice. Actually, you guys should get a beach house. Right, Dad? You’d look great on a beach.”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. “Leia, you know I hate the beach. There’s too much sand, and sand is—”

“It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere,” Leia and Luke said in unison, their voices flat with practiced familiarity.

“Yes, Dad, we know,” Luke added with exaggerated exasperation. “You say that every time we go to the beach.”

Anakin laughed, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Well, then you’ve got your answer. No beach houses.”

The table erupted in quiet laughter, the lightheartedness breaking through the emotional weight of the moment. Lunch continued peacefully, with the hum of conversation and the clink of wine glasses filling the air. Stories were exchanged, jokes were made, and for the first time in a long time, the family felt… whole.

Anakin stole a glance at you, his smile softening as he watched you laugh at something Luke had said. This was what he had wanted—joy, love, and the freedom to move forward without the chains of the past.

New love. New air. A new chapter.

And as he reached for your hand under the table once more, giving it a gentle squeeze, he knew this was just the beginning.

“Come with me outside?” Anakin asked softly, his voice low but filled with tenderness.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his without hesitation. The warmth of his touch steadied you as he led you to the ship’s balcony. The sea breeze danced around you, carrying the faint scent of salt and the promise of a new beginning.

Once outside, Anakin turned to face you fully, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He exhaled deeply, as if gathering every ounce of courage he had.

“I want to keep this,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “What we have. I see a future with you, and it’s something I never thought I’d want again. I know it won’t always be easy—we’re from different generations, and we’ll have our fair share of clashes. But I want to face those challenges with you, because you’re worth it. You’re everything.”

His words hit you like a wave, overwhelming in their sincerity. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as a smile spread across your face, soft and full of love.

“I want this too, Anakin,” you murmured, your hands coming up to cradle his face. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his scruffy stubble tickling your palms. “I love you. I don’t know what the future holds, but if it’s with you, I know it’ll be enough. More than enough.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, gazing at each other, smiles mirroring the love that radiated between you. The world around you seemed to fade, the sounds of the ship and the bustling port in the distance melting into the background.

And then, as if by some unspoken agreement, you both closed the distance. His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing short of breathtaking. It wasn’t hurried or hesitant—it was passionate and full of promise. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers threaded through his sandy hair. The kiss deepened, speaking the words neither of you could fully express: devotion, trust, and the undeniable certainty that this was just the beginning of a lifetime together.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you catching your breath but unwilling to break the moment. His hands stayed on your waist, grounding you in the present while your heart soared with the possibilities of the future.

The sound of the ship docking at the port brought you back to reality, and you glanced over to see the crew setting up the stairs for passengers to disembark. Anakin, ever attentive, reached for your suitcase with one hand, the motion pulling you back to that first day of the cruise. It was almost poetic—how a simple favor for a friend had turned into something so life-changing.

As you walked down the stairs together, his other hand held yours firmly, his fingers interlaced with yours as if to silently promise he’d never let go. Anakin’s playful side returned as he began making lighthearted jokes, the sound of his laughter blending with the hum of the port.

“Shall I take you home?” he asked, his voice teasing yet gentle as he helped you down the last step. Your feet touched the ground, solid and steady, but your heart felt like it was still floating.

When you nodded, a wave of certainty washed over you. Your life had changed, irreversibly and beautifully. In just a few days, you’d gone from pretending to be someone’s girlfriend to falling deeply, irrevocably in love with the man who had captured your heart completely.

As you walked toward the car, his hand still in yours, you reflected on how unpredictable life could be. A smile tugged at your lips as you thought of the younger version of yourself—nervous, hesitant, and blissfully unaware of the adventure she was about to embark on. That crazy idea from your best friend had set everything in motion, and now, here you were, walking into the next chapter of your life with the love of your life by your side.

And for that, you were endlessly grateful.

[idiashroudshusband]

Homecooked - Jiaoqiu x Reader / Fluff

The door to your apartment creaked softly as you pushed it open, the weight of a long day hanging heavily on your shoulders. Your work had been particularly exhausting—staying overtime and you were absolutley beat. You just wanted to take off your shoes, lie down, and forget the world for a while.

But as you stepped inside, something was different. The usual silence of Jiaoqiu not being there was replaced by the warm, comforting scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen, something you hadn’t smelled in months.

You blinked, taken aback. "Jiaoqiu?" you called out, almost wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

"Right here," came the soft response. Jiaoqiu appeared in the doorway, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his apron, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I hope you don’t mind. I thought I'd make dinner tonight."

You stood there for a moment, trying to process the sight. Jiaoqiu, the ever-diligent and caring individual, stood in your kitchen—an area you never expected to see him in, given his usual calm and scholarly demeanor. But here he was, his cheeks flushed with concentration, his eyes shut from his unfortunate blindness, holding onto the pot with a glove and stirring the soup.

"Jiaoqiu, you… cooked?" you asked, your voice betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You couldn’t believe your eyes, wanting to know how?

He chuckled softly, his smile growing a bit sheepish.”I’ve missed being in the kitchen.." You look around the kitchen, and you see the spices out on the counter, in a line, all seeminly organized. The same goes for the utensils and pots, all having been organized in a way so he knows exactly where everything is. He had managed to find a way to do something he loves to do even when his unfortunate situation normally wouldnt allow him to.

Your heart warmed at the thought, and the tension you’d been carrying all day seemed to melt away. "You didn’t have to cook for me…but I’m really glad you did." You were estatic, smiling happily as you watch your husband work on making you dinner. He was careful, both of his hands wearing heat gloves, gently reaching out for what he needed, and using his foxian nose to determine he had the spice he needed.

You both stayed in silence, but you knew he still knew you were there with him.

As he finished cooking, the scent of the meal filled the room—a savory mix of spices, tender meat, and vegetables simmering together perfectly. Jiaoqiu carefully plated the dish and set it before you on the table, the presentation neat but humble, just like him.

"Go ahead, try it," he encouraged, his voice soft but filled with hope. He was praying he hadnt messed anything up..

You picked up your spoon, the first bite surprising you with how comforting and flavorful it was. The balance of flavors was perfect, the tenderness of the meat complemented by the richness of the sauce. It was the kind of food that made you feel like you were home, wrapped in warmth and care.

You sigh, letting out a hum if appreciation. "This is... incredible," you said, looking up at him in awe. "Jiaoqiu, I didn’t expect this.. its delicious. You’ve outdone yourself."

He blushed slightly, his smile growing wider. "I’m glad you think so. I spent a lot of time on it, and I wanted to make sure it was just right for you.. I’ve missed cooking for you..”

As you continued to eat, the two of you talked—about the day, about trivial things, about little bits of life that felt less significant but more intimate in the moment. It was clear this meant more to him than just cooking.

"You know," you said between bites, a smile tugging at your lips, "this is exactly what I needed. Thank you."

His smile softened as he tilted his head and turned towards you. “I’m happy to do it. Your happiness means a lot to me."

The night passed quietly as you finished your meal, Jiaoqiu staying by your side, content in knowing he had made a difference in your day. You realized that, in this small, simple act of cooking, he’d given you something far more valuable than just food—he had given you a moment of peace and a reminder that even on the hardest days, there was still comfort to be found.

[rosicheeks]

hey, i know covid sucks right now, but it’ll get better ok? maybe read a book you’ve been meaning to read, get plenty to eat and drink, and take care of yourself above all. i wish i could be there to hold you and take care of you while you’re sick, but you’re always in my thoughts. and i wish it was under better circumstances, but i hope you know: i’m happy to see you on my dash again. i missed you a lot.

-🌸

[starkwlkr]

pretty in pink | logan howlett

an: this comes straight from my delusional mind

dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)

All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.

“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.

“We know, bub. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.

“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.

Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.

“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.

Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.

As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.

Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.

“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.

“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.

“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”

“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.

“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.

Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.

“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.

“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.

“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.

Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”

“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.

“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.

With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.

In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.

“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.

“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.

“No, that’s you!”

You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.

“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.

The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.

Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”

You hummed in response.

Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.

“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.

“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.

As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.

“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.

It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.

As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.

“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.

“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.

And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.

Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.

“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”

“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”

You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.

“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”

“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.

“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.

“Wade, No!”

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

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[nanamiscocksleeve]

May I request a situation where Kento suddenly turns corrupt in a way that he loses all respect and simply wants to sexually take advantage of fem!reader? Just fucking her rough like a rag doll. Whether it be a curse or aphrodisiac (that can be up to your amazing imagination) But of course, there’s consent and miss reader has a ball with it.

Ohhhh! This is what I needed to break back into writing JJK. But I feel like there's defiinitely some work out there where Kento rough fucks his s/o thanks to a curse or aphrodisiac and I was struggling to write something that felt fresh. This might be a little softer than what was asked because while I'm ok with writing degradation, I think Kento would struggle quite a bit with this.

I hope I've done this justice!

Warnings: MDNI, degradation, derogatory name calling, CNC, objectification, dacryphilia, free use, rough sex, S&M

Use Me

It's a quiet evening as your husband brings you a warm cup of coffee, pressing a kiss to you head as he sits next to you. He stretches and lets out a breath, relishing the peace, and puts an arm around you, drawing you closer for comfort. You sip quietly and appear lost in thought. Ever observant, Kento quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind?" To his surprise, your eyes flick up to his over the coffee cup and a blush starts to dust over your cheeks and nose. "What's with that face?" Kento smiles, flattered at the sight and puts a hand on your wrist to lower the coffee cup. Your lips twist into an embarrassed smile and you shake your head, looking away.

"It's nothing I was just thinking about something." You sip and put the mug down on the table. Kento notices the way you hold yourself, the slight tension in your shoulders and the way your eyes look like you want to divulge a secret but were unsure if you should do so. The hand on your wrist slides and he lays his large, warm, hand over yours.

"What is it sweetheart?" He brushes away some stray strands of hair from your face. You bite your lip doubtfully, then decide to spill the beans. "Kento, there's something I want us to...try." You say in a strange tone, like you're still weighing the cons. Kento nods, encouraging you to go on.

"It's...related to sex."

This catches his interest. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It might not be something you're into."

"Try me." He reassuringly pulls you against him, allowing you a grateful moment of privacy as you hide your face in his neck. You clear your throat and continue.

"I want you to take advantage of me. Sexually."

"Am I not already doing that?" Kento jokes but you shake your head, your hair tickling his skin.

"I mean...I want to be used. Objectified. Degraded. Made to feel like I'm just a toy for your entertainment." You pause and he feels you take in a deep breath before continuing. "I basically want you to reduce me to being holes that you use for your pleasure and nothing more."

Kento's heart pounds in his chest as you word your request. "You want me to use you like that?"

"Yeah. And like, I don't want you to be gentle either. I want you to be rough. Like leave bite marks all over me. Don't have sex with me. Fuck me. Roughly. Hard." The blood in his veins grows hot and he pets your hair.

"Are you sure?"

"It's something I always wanted to try. Not that I don't like how it is now. But. I didn't know how to ask." You feel his lips nuzzle your ear and his hands reassuringly stroke your back.

"Sweetheart you know I'm willing to try a lot of things. But I never want to compromise your safety or well-being. I can be rough if you want. But you need to tell me if it's too much. I can't stand the thought of doing something that'll hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. And we have our safe word. I promise to use it." There's a moment of silence as Kento imagines how this would go. You're his favorite person in the whole world, whom he loves and respects. But at the same time, this idea has him incredibly aroused, the thought of using you to his will and forcing you to submit to debauched acts that he's never allowed himself to think about.

He presses another soft kiss to your forehead.

"If it'll make you happy then all right."

--------

You whimper as Kento bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, wiping away the blotch with his thumb. He's unrecognizable to you. You've only seen him like before for a specific scenario; when he's hunting down a curse. It sends a skitter of fear through you but also brings forth a strong rush of arousal that makes your cunt clench in need.

"Now remember slut, you're mine to be used. And I'm only letting you rest after I've fucked and filled you to my satisfaction. And if I hear you complaining, know that I have better uses for that mouth. Now on your knees."

You kneel, keeping your eyes trained on the floor, feeling your heart pounding at what was about to happen. Kento roughly yanks your head up by your hair. "Open."

You part your lips then gasp as he shoves his cock without warning, sliding the hard flesh down your throat. You try to relax your muscles, choking in relief as he comes up then repeats the action. You're on the verge of gagging before he gives you reprieve. Saliva drips from your mouth as he gathers your hair and pushes back in, holding you firmly in place until your nose hits his pubes before thursting forcefully, grunting at the slickness of your wet, willing mouth.

You feel your breathless from the effort of keeping him in your mouth, feeling him nearly touching the entrance to your throat, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggle to accomodate all of him. When he finally pulls out you take in a thankful breath of air, spluttering from the freedom.

"Pathetic. Can't even deepthroat cock. What good are you?" His hands wrap around your throat just hard enough to give you that dizzying light-headed feeling as your brain is deprived of air before letting go. He pauses, watching you writhe on the floor to catch your breath. Once it steadies, he commands you.

"Crawl."

Turned on and feeling debased, you get on your hands and knees and start crawling on the floor, your ass jiggling with each movement that you make. You hear footsteps then squeal as Kento's hand slaps the soft flesh. You freeze as the sting ripples through you before Kento jerks your head back by your hair.

"I didn't say to stop crawling. Stupid whore. Who said you can stop just because you felt a little pain?" He brings his hand down repeatedly as you pathetically begin to crawl again, sniffing as you go.

"Crying when you know this all you're good for? Stop acting like you're above this." He leaves your ass smarting, red and pulsing from his abuse. His calloused hands grab your fleshy cheeks and spread them apart and he chuckles darkly. "Don't tell me you're turned on."

You whimper as you feel him insert a finger into your moist hole, probing forcefully before withdrawing. "Just when I thought you could sink no lower. You really are nothing but a basic piece of meat just hoping a cock will fill you and make you feel like you have a purpose."

His finger withdraws and he pulls you up abruptly, his hands harshly squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples aggressively and earning a keening noise from you, your whole body feeling a sensitive blob. He twists and pulls, and you squirm in his grasp, causing him to growl and grip your chin, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Stop acting like you want to escape." He firmly spanks your pussy and your body jolts from the surprise, a cry leaving you. "You crave this. Want this. Because deep down, you know there's nothing more you want than to be a glorified fucktoy. That's all. You're a vessel to hold my cum, if I decide you're worthy enough to receive it."

He pushes one of your breasts up to his mouth and suckles roughly and you can feel the edges of his teeth skimming along the sensitive peaks. Kento releases it and does the same for the other, and just when your senses start to calm down, he sinks his teeth into the nipple, just hard enough for you make a noise of pain. He smirks.

"Oh. So you do have a limit." He bites the other nipple with similar force and you let out a broken sob. "Tsk. You're not very good at being a fucktoy are you?"

He shoves you to the bed and you fall on the soft mattress. You hear the clink of chains and see him securing handcuffs around your ankles before securing the free ends to the bedposts, angling your legs so that they're spread apart wide. Your wet pussy is exposed to his feral eyes and he licks his lips at the sight of the glistening membranes. He flicks your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you twitch and struggle.

"Oh you're dumb aren't you? Haven't you learned what happens when you try to avoid me?" He spanks your clit again, and your eyes roll back into your head as you try to separate the confusing blur of pain and pleasure that shoots through you body.

"Why is it that the more pain I give you, the wetter your dumb whore cunt gets?" The resounding echo of his palm on your wet folds gets louder with each slap until your clit is swollen and red from the repeated blows.

"Look at that. You actually want more after all that." Before you can process what's happening, Kento shifts on the bed and plunges his hard cock into your pussy. The stretch makes you sob because you weren't quite ready for him, the push slightly painful, but as you adjust to him, the feeling fades. His movements are harsh and selfish, swiftly bottoming out each time and hitting your cervix, setting a brutal pace that has you feeling like you might black out.

You let out a shocked squeak as his thumb starts to manhandle your clit, brushing over it in savage strokes that bring you dangerously close to the edge. Strings of incoherent noises spill from your lips, sounding more and more animalistic as your brain turns off all rational thought and begins to fill with need. You just wanted to orgasm, then have the satisfaction of Kento's seed filling your wet channel, to feel him soften inside you before the next round....

You let a quivering wail as your orgasm hits and Kento huffs in satisfaction as he feels your walls clenching him as you cum. Your feet thrash against their restraints as the ripple of orgasmic pleasure rocks your body. "You can't help it can you? Being a cumslut?"

His hips start to pick up pace and slam into you as he chases his orgasm, his breathing becoming ragged, hands digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises as he uses your hole to satisfy the raging, primal need that's fuelling his actions. His movements become sloppy and the edges of his vision start to blur.

"Here it comes. Your reward. Try not to spend it all in once place." With a final thrust, thick ropes of cum start to fill your insides and he shudders with the satisfaction. A moment passes before he pulls out of you, leaking his seed as he withdraws. You lay spent and exhausted on the bed.

Kento finally breaks character and crouches over you. "You didn't use your safe word."

"I didn't need to."

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[act-nat-ural]

Apologies

@ash0-0ley: Can you write for suna? Angst to fluff please (sorry for my bad english 🤡)

word count: 1013

Rintarou didn’t mean to yell at you, not really. He’d just been so on edge lately, putting in extra hours at practice and pushing himself to his limits as he prepared for the upcoming tournament. Every game felt like it was raising the stakes, and he wanted to be sure he didn’t let anyone down.

But all that stress, all that pressure—it had a way of bleeding out. And you, his favorite person, were unfortunately in his line of fire.

It was supposed to be a quick visit. You had swung by the gym after practice with a snack and a few words of encouragement, hoping to ease his stress. You saw the fatigue in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. Rintarou had always been calm and collected, but today, he seemed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Hey, Rin,” you greeted him with a warm smile, holding out the small bag you’d brought. “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

But instead of the soft smile you were used to, he barely even looked at you.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice slicing through you like a blade. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

His words hit you harder than they should have, and you flinched. You could feel your face heating up, embarrassment and hurt mixing in your chest. You wanted to say something, to tell him you were just trying to help, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The look on his face told you enough; he was frustrated, tired, and didn’t want you around.

So, you left. You told yourself it was fine, that he was just stressed and didn’t mean it. But as the days passed, doubt began to creep in. Maybe you were a distraction. Maybe he’d be better off without you around. The more you thought about it, the more you began to wonder if he even wanted you there at all.

So you started to avoid him. You stopped swinging by the gym, stopped texting him as much. When he called, you kept the conversations short. And when he asked if you wanted to meet up, you always had an excuse ready.

Rintarou noticed the change immediately, but he brushed it off at first, thinking you were just busy. But after a few days, it became impossible to ignore. He missed you, missed the comfort of having you around, and every time he saw your name on his phone, his chest ached with guilt. He knew he’d messed up, that he’d hurt you. But he didn’t realize how much until now, when you were slipping further and further away.

One night, after another long, grueling practice, he found himself standing outside your apartment. He had barely thought it through, too tired and too anxious to wait any longer. He raised his hand, hesitating for a moment, before knocking softly.

The sound startled you. It was late, and you hadn’t been expecting anyone. When you opened the door and saw Rintarou standing there, his eyes tired but determined, your heart clenched. You hadn’t seen him in days, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.

“Rin?” you asked, surprised.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. “Hey. Can I…can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The silence between you was heavy, and you didn’t know what to say, how to explain why you’d been avoiding him. But before you could even gather your thoughts, he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, but there was a rawness to it that caught you off guard. “I’m sorry for the way I snapped at you. I was stressed, but that’s no excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”

You felt your throat tighten, the hurt you’d been pushing down rising to the surface. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”

He shook his head, his gaze finally meeting yours. “No, it’s not okay. I pushed you away, and I shouldn’t have. I thought that if I focused everything on practice, if I shut out everything else, I’d be able to handle it. But…not having you around just made everything worse.”

You swallowed, feeling a mix of relief and lingering doubt. “I thought…I thought maybe you didn’t want me around anymore. That I was just making things harder for you.”

Rintarou’s eyes widened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to yours. “No. You’re the one thing that makes all of this easier. I…I messed up, and I’m sorry. I need you with me, okay? I don’t want to do this alone.”

His words broke down the walls you’d been building around yourself, and you let out a shaky breath. “I missed you, Rin.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “I missed you too. So much.”

You stayed like that for a while, the tension between you melting away as he held you close. The familiar warmth of his embrace soothed the ache that had been sitting in your chest for days, and you felt the weight of your doubts and fears lifting.

After a few moments, he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a soft smile. “I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll make time for you, no matter how busy things get. Just…don’t leave me, okay?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I won’t. But you have to let me help, too. You don’t have to do this all on your own.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling with a mixture of relief and affection. “Yeah. I think I could use that.”

You spent the rest of the night curled up together on the couch, talking quietly about everything and nothing at all. And in that moment, with Rin’s arms wrapped around you and his apologies whispered into your hair, you knew that whatever challenges came your way, you’d face them together.

note: can you tell i'm bad at angst lol

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

part two

a/n i swear everytime im about to play love and deepspace, the app needs another update. my phone storage can't keep up T0T anyways, i'm not that far in but xavier is my fave. he lowkey reminds me of silver haha. rafayel is a close second tho

includes: all of octavinelle, scarabia + pomefiore

tw mentions of eating disorder

want more? check out part one!

Octavinelle <3

⋆ Perhaps the last dorm that you want to know about your skills. But alas, your heart is vast, so even shady seamen deserves some delicious home cooked meals/treats!

⋆ How about making some extra cash? Is what Azul says after taking a bit. He does mean it. Not only would Monstro Lounge gain some more popularity after news of the Ramshackle Perfect’s home made meals/treats were being served, but he gets to spend time with you without giving his feelings away? A win-win if you asked him. As we all know, Azul does suffer from an eating disorder, as much as he tries to deny it, but somehow your cooking/baking doesn’t upset him at all. If anything, he gets so lost in the flavors that he doesn’t realize that his stomach is full and plate empty. Should he be concerned? Disgusted with himself? Lots of negative emotions begin to swell up, but when he glances at you, fully expecting the worst, he’s met with your proud smile. Happiness practically radiating off your being. And suddenly, Azul doesn’t mind the feeling of a full stomach as long as you look at him like that again.

⋆ Jade finds himself coming to you more often to ask for tips on how to cook mushrooms in different ways. Heck, he even encourages you to come out mushroom hunting with him. He’s fascinated by the way you work, seeing you mix different spices and ingredients together inspires him to do the same. He enjoys getting a glimpse at a third world, your world. It reminds him that the universe is truely a big, fascinating place. He is touched that your first thought was to bring him food, don’t worry he’ll repay the favor.

⋆ Your food is the only thing to get Floyd out of his moods! Once he smells the delicious scent of your meals/sweets, he instantly goes back to being silly and goofy! He will pester the living daylights out of you to make his favorite foods. You will know no peace! Floyd always makes his distaste clear. He’s an honest guy, what can he say? So it’s a big achievement that your food gets the Floyd pass. He will glare at anyone that dares to come near his food. This is his food, not theirs! Floyd’s a good cook himself, so like Jade, if he’s feeling particularly chummy, you might be gifted with his own unique concoction.

Scarabia <3

⋆ Scarabia is known to have the best food in the school! So it was a little jarring when you decided to give them some of your homemade food. But you really have nothing to worry about when it comes to these too.

⋆ You thought you were going to go blind with how bright Kalim's smile was. It truly could rival the sun. Because of the trust between you and Kalim, he devours it within seconds. Practically buzzing in excitement as the flavors touch his tongue. He’s not joking when he says that it’s as good as Jamil’s food. He wants to throw a party where you and Jamil have a cook off! But also just to show off your amazing cooking. You’re going to have to politely tell him that might be too much for you. Or that you only cook for special people! (subtle flirting hehe) And well Kalim is Kalim so it’s like a 50/50 chance that it won’t fly over his head. But in the case that it doesn’t, Kalim gets all warm and flustered. You know how some people get cuteness aggression and just want to squeeze said cuteness, well that’s Kalim. Instantly you're in his arms while he exclaims how much he loves you!

⋆ Jamil gave you the weirdest look, thinking that you wanted something from him. But alas! You did it out of the goodness of your heart. After getting over his initial suspicion, Jamil is incredibly thankful! I get a feeling that between everything that Jamil has to handle, he tends to eat very little most days. Just enough to get him to bedtime. So when you popped out of thin air with food, but not just any food his favorite, Jamil is touched. Though just because he’s touched, that doesn’t mean he won’t critique it! Internally of course, unless you ask. I would like to say that this would lead to cooking dates, but Jamil gives me the impression that he doesn’t like others in the kitchen while he works. Though he’s willing to try it out for you! Omg, if you make him food from the Scalding Sands, he just might tear up (lol, probably not but that’s a funny thought) but he will be incredibly touched!

Pomefiore <3

⋆ A tricky dorm to cook/bake for. A life or death situation! You must satisfy the Queen’s tastes or else you’ll face everlasting sleep! OoooOOoooooOOOoooo

⋆ Your greatest foe, the Queen herself! Does your food satisfy the Queen’s strict diet? ………partially. Listen, Vil holds himself to high regards and keeps a stern eye on his calories and where those calories come from. And while yes, you are going the right path, you also took some side quests on the way. In other words, you were like 74% to getting Vil’s approval. But fear not! For Vil is more than willing to take you under his wing! Though, Vil’s not a chef himself, so he’ll guide you in the ways of his diets. As long as you keep those in mind, Vil finds himself thoroughly enjoying anything you make him. He enjoys foods that are light on the stomach with plenty of nourishment. Vil will oftentimes find himself thinking about your food. His stomach growling in hunger. He appreciates it whenever you show up with homemade snacks. Vil will oftentimes submerge himself in his work, whether that be new roles, schoolwork or guiding his dorm mates, and forget to eat. So knowing that you're always thinking of him and coming to check up on him makes him feel all mushy and gooey inside. Goodness, the effects you have on him.

⋆ C’est délicieux! Anything and everything you give Rook is eaten with fervor. Truly enjoying and savoring every bite! For how could he let anything go to waste? You put your heart and soul into it, it would be wrong not to enjoy it with his own heart and soul. His appetite is never quenched when it comes to your food. He consumes your food with such earnestness that it's hard not to get all flustered. The compliments are never ending when it comes to him. Rook could (and has) write poetry off the delicious taste of your food. Sweet, yet a little off putting. Will jump at any occasion to speak about your food, and by extension you. Eveytime he sees you with a bag or box, Rook is skipping towards you with a little tune to each step.

⋆ Nothing could beat his Meemaw’s apple pie, but Epel supposes that yours come to a close second. Your food is the only thing Vil will turn a blind eye to, which Epel takes as an opportunity to slyly (not really) suggest new recipes for you to try. Honestly, Epel really likes your food! He gets all flustered whenever you pop with food for him. At first he was a little insulted that you made him food, thinking you were insulting his masculinity or something by babying him. But after your very honest words (and a reprimanding from Vil and Leona for making you sad), Epel understands that it was just you trying to show him that you cared for him. I can see Epel going to Jack and asking ‘Is someone giving you food manly?’ and Jack, who happened to overhear Leona telling Ruggie, casually responds with, ‘My mom always makes my dad food, so yeah…” And Epel’s all like, ‘Well damn, if Jack looks like that then his dad must be super macho.’ or something like that. Needless to say, Epel has never hit someone so hard before over food. (rip grim and ace)

[ln444]

truly madly deeply

cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((

now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d

notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(

requested by anon

______________________________________________

these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.

qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.

you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.

"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.

"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.

"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.

"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.

"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.

you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.

"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.

"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.

lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."

lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.

lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.

______________________________________________

masterlist

[faithfulren]

secret supporter

you have always admired izuku midoriya from afar, inspired by his unwavering determination despite being quirkless. seeing him bullied by his classmates, you decide to offer your support secretly. you start leaving encouraging notes and small gifts in his locker, hoping to lift his spirits and show him that he's not alone. izuku is initially surprised and touched by these gestures, and as time goes on, he becomes more curious about his mysterious supporter.

----

you watched from a distance, heart aching as izuku midoriya endured another round of taunts from his classmates. the ever-present bullies, led by katsuki bakugo, never seemed to relent. yet, Izuku stood firm, his resolve unbroken despite the cruel words and occasional shoves. his determination, even in the face of such adversity, had always inspired you.

izuku didn't know you very well, but you knew him. how could you not? his dream to become a hero despite being quirkless was something you admired deeply. it stirred something within you, making you want to reach out, to support him in any way you could.

that's how it began, small, simple gestures. the first note you left in his locker was scribbled hastily, your heart pounding as you slipped it between the slats. "keep believing in yourself. you're stronger than you think." the next day, you watched anxiously as izuku found the note. his eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he read it. you saw the brief, precious smile that tugged at his lips, and it made your heart swell with warmth.

you continued this secret support, each note a little more personal, a little more encouraging. "your dreams are worth fighting for." "don't let them bring you down. you have the heart of a hero." alongside the notes, you started leaving small gifts a keychain of all might, a new notebook for his hero analyses, a pack of his favorite snacks. each time, you stayed hidden, watching his reactions, feeling a mix of joy and nervousness as he accepted each token with growing curiosity.

one rainy afternoon, you saw bakugo cornering izuku again. your fists clenched in anger, but before you could intervene, a teacher appeared, dispersing the group. izuku was left alone, drenched and shivering, but you saw the determination still burning in his eyes. that evening, you left an umbrella and a warm scarf in his locker, along with a note: "for the days when it feels like the world is against you. you're not alone."

the next day, you noticed izuku lingering by his locker longer than usual. he took out the scarf, running his fingers over the soft fabric, and for a moment, he looked around, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of his mysterious supporter. your heart raced, but you stayed hidden, not yet ready to reveal yourself.

weeks passed, and the notes continued. you saw a change in izuku, he seemed a little more confident, a little more hopeful. it made you happy beyond words to know you had a part in that change. but as time went on, you knew it couldn't stay a secret forever.

one morning, as you approached izuku's locker with another note, you found him standing there, reading something with a puzzled expression. his head snapped up as you came closer, and you realized with a start that he was holding one of your notes. his eyes widened as he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat. had he figured it out?

"y/n?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "is it… is it you?"

you swallowed hard, but the sincerity in his gaze gave you courage. "yes, izuku. it's me."

for a moment, there was silence. then, slowly, a smile spread across izuku's face, a smile that was brighter and more genuine than any you'd seen before. "thank you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "thank you so much. you don't know how much this means to me."

tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step closer. "i just wanted you to know that you're not alone, izuku. you inspire me, and i believe in you. i always have."

izuku's gaze softened as he reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "i… i believe in you too. and i'm really glad to know that i have someone like you by my side."

in that moment, standing together in the bustling hallway, you felt something shift between you, a spark of deeper connection, a bond forged through kindness, support, and mutual admiration. it was the beginning of something beautiful, a budding romance that neither of you would ever forget.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Just How Fast The Night Changes.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist.

in which, your out at a christmas market with your friends, you end up hurting yourself on the ice rink, resulting in you going to the hospital, where your fiance is doing the night shift.

word count - 3.1k

authors note - hi everyone! hope your all doing okay, just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who wished me well, im feeling much better and couldn’t wait to get back to writing for you all. enjoy huns. 🩵

Winter Wonderland was one of your favourite places to go to.

The air was crisp, nipping at your cheeks, and fairy lights are strung above like a canopy of stars, casting everything in a soft golden glow.

There’s the faint sound of Christmas carols playing somewhere, blending with the delighted shouts of children and the soft murmur of conversations.

The smell of roasted chestnuts and sweet cinnamon drifts through the air, and the ice rink is at the heart of it all, glowing an icy blue under the lights.

You’ve never been ice skating before,so you don’t know why you let Lauren talk you into taking part.

Your fingers are clutching the edge of the rink like it’s a lifeline, knuckles white as you attempt to shuffle forward. Your legs wobble beneath you, and your skates feel like they’re made of jelly instead of blades.

"Come on, you’re doing fine!" Lauren says, her voice full of encouragement. She’s gripping your hand tightly, her fingers warm despite the cold.

She’s only slightly steadier than you are, but at least she’s moving without needing the barrier.

“I am not doing fine,” you reply, your voice shaky as your foot slides unexpectedly and you lurch forward. Lauren pulls you back upright, laughing.

“You’re still standing. That’s a win,” she says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Her laughter is warm, and somehow it makes you laugh, too, despite the fact that you’re fairly certain you’re about to end up on the ice any second.

The ice rink is alive with movement around you. Experienced skaters glide by effortlessly, spinning and weaving through the crowd like dancers, their scarves trailing behind them.

Meanwhile, a group of kids to your left are shrieking with laughter as they tumble over each other in a heap, only to scramble back up and try again.

You look down at your feet, trying to muster the courage to let go of the side.

“How are you not falling every two seconds?” you ask, eyeing Lauren suspiciously.

She grins.

“Years of rollerblading as a kid,” she admits. “But trust me, I’m no pro. Just don’t overthink it—bend your knees a little, and try to glide.”

You nod, trying to follow her advice. Your knees bend slightly, and you release the edge for a split second. It feels like flying—for exactly half a second—before your foot slips and you grab the barrier again, your heart pounding.

Lauren’s laugh rings out again, but it’s never mean.

“Okay, okay,” she says, steadying you.

“Baby steps. I’ve got you.” She pulls you gently forward, her grip on your hand solid.

Somehow, with Lauren’s guidance and a lot of laughter, you manage a few shaky steps away from the edge.

You’re still wobbling, your arms flailing like a baby bird trying to take flight, but you’re moving.

The world around you feels magical, even with your nerves and the ache already forming in your ankles. Snowflakes begin to fall softly, catching the light as they drift down. You glance at Lauren, her face lit up with joy, and you can’t help but smile.

“See?” she says, beaming at you. “You’re doing it!”

“I’m barely surviving,” you reply, but you’re laughing now, the kind of laugh that feels like it comes straight from your chest.

And just like that, your left foot slips out from under you, and suddenly you’re falling backward.

It happens so fast that you don’t even have time to brace yourself. The cold, unforgiving ice meets your arm and hip with a jarring thud, the shock of it knocking the breath from your lungs.

Pain shoots up your arm immediately, sharp and searing, and you can feel tears springing to your eyes before you can stop them.

“Are you okay?!” Lauren is beside you in an instant, dropping to her knees on the ice. Her hands hover uncertainly, not wanting to hurt you further as you cradle your arm. “Talk to me—what hurts?”

You wince, sucking in a shaky breath.

“My arm. It—oh, it really hurts, Lozza.” Your voice is trembling, a mixture of shock and pain making it hard to focus.

A concerned voice interrupts.

“Do you need help?” It’s a passerby, a woman in a red scarf who’s skated over to check on you.

She glances over her shoulder and waves for someone. “I’ll get an ice marshal.”

Everything feels blurry after that, the sounds around you a mix of laughter and skating blades against ice, clashing with the sharp ache radiating from your arm.

Lauren stays right by your side, her voice soft but firm as she reassures you. “It’s okay, help’s coming. You’re going to be okay.”

An ice marshal arrives within moments, dressed in a bright yellow jacket that makes them easy to spot.

They crouch beside you, their expression serious but calm.

“Hi,” they say, their tone professional but kind. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I—I fell,” you manage, the words catching in your throat. “Landed on my arm. It hurts a lot.”

The marshal nods, their gaze assessing as they look at your arm, though you’re still clutching it close to your body.

“Okay, I see you’re in a lot of pain,” they say. “We’re going to get you some help. I think we need to call an ambulance to check this out, just to be safe.”

Hearing the word “ambulance” makes your stomach flip, and the tears spill over, unbidden. Lauren immediately scoots closer, putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she says softly, her voice steady and warm, like an anchor in the chaos. “They’re just being cautious. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

The ice marshal steps away briefly to make the call, and you can hear them relaying details to the dispatcher. Meanwhile, Lauren stays with you, her knees probably freezing against the ice, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“I feel so stupid,” you mumble, the tears still flowing.

“Don’t,” Lauren says firmly. “This could happen to anyone. Besides, you were doing amazing—I mean, up until this part.”

She gives you a small, reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. It works, if only a little.

The waiting feels both endless and too quick. People around you keep glancing over, their curiosity clear, but Lauren glares at anyone who stares too long.

“Nothing to see here,” she mutters under her breath, making you snort despite the pain.

When the paramedics arrive, they move with practiced efficiency, asking questions, checking your arm, and gently placing it in a makeshift sling before helping you off the ice and onto a stretcher. Lauren is right behind you, her hand never leaving yours until they load you into the ambulance.

Harry was sitting at his desk in the bustling emergency department, pen in hand as he worked through a stack of paperwork.

The hum of the hospital surrounded him—phones ringing, monitors beeping, and the occasional burst of hurried footsteps.

He was focused, brows furrowed in concentration, when a nurse approached him.

“Dr. Styles?” she said, her tone gentle but urgent.

Harry glanced up, his professional demeanor shifting slightly at the nurse’s expression.

“Yes?” he said, setting his pen down.

“It’s about your fiancée,” she began, her voice careful. “She’s just been brought in. A suspected arm injury from a fall. She’s stable, but she’s in a lot of pain.”

His heart stopped for a moment, then kicked into overdrive. He was on his feet before she even finished speaking. “Where is she?”

The nurse motioned down the hall. “She’s in Room 14. I’ll take you to her.”

Harry turned to the head of the department, who had been standing nearby, observing the exchange.

“Go,” they said with a nod, understanding immediately. “We’ll cover for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quickly, already moving to follow the nurse.

As he walked, his mind raced. He knew this hospital inside and out, every corridor, every turn, but now the route to Room 14 felt impossibly long.

The thought of you being in pain, of you lying there alone and scared, made his chest tighten. He was usually so composed, so steady under pressure, but this was different.

This was you.

His darling.

The nurse glanced back at him as they neared the room, her pace slowing.

“She’s alert and talking, but she’s shaken up,” she said. “An x-ray has been done we’re just waiting for the results, but the arm looks like it might be fractured.”

Harry nodded, his jaw clenching as he processed the information. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He needed to be calm for you, reassuring, even though his heart was pounding in his chest.

As they reached the door to Room 14, the nurse stepped aside, motioning for him to go in. Harry hesitated for half a second, his hand resting on the doorframe. He could hear the faint murmur of your voice inside, and the sound sent a wave of both relief and worry through him.

He pushed the door open, stepping inside.

You’re sitting on the hospital bed, your good arm clutching the blanket draped over your lap.

A nurse is patiently trying to insert an IV into your injured arm, but you keep squirming away, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps.

“Please, no, I can’t,” you say, shaking your head, your voice trembling. “I hate needles—I really hate them.”

The nurse, clearly used to this sort of reaction, gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s scary, but this will help with the pain. We’ll make it quick, I promise.”

“No,” you insist, pulling your arm back again despite the throb of pain shooting through it. “I—I can’t. Just give me pills or something. I don’t need the IV.”

The door opens suddenly, and your heart skips a beat when you see Harry stride into the room, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His hair is slightly messy from a long shift, and his brow is furrowed with concern.

“M’love,” he says, his voice soft but urgent as he crosses the room in a few quick steps. “S’going on?”

The nurse straightens up and explains, “She’s scared of the IV, Doctor Styles. We’re trying to administer some pain relief, but she’s very nervous.”

Harry’s face softens as he looks at you, crouching down so he’s eye level.

“Hey, s’okay. M’ here now,” he says gently, reaching for your free hand. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “The IV’s going to help. I know it’s scary, but you’re so much stronger than you think.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I can’t, H. I really can’t. It’s too much.”

“Yes, you can,” he says firmly but lovingly, leaning closer. “I promise it’ll be over before you know it, and I’ll be right here the whole time. You won’t even have to look at it, okay? Just look at me.”

His free hand comes up to rest gently against your cheek, his touch grounding you.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his green eyes searching yours.

You nod, swallowing hard. “I trust you.”

“Good,” he says, his lips twitching into a small, reassuring smile. He straightens up and glances at the nurse. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll keep her calm.”

The nurse nods and moves closer again, preparing the IV. Harry shifts, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you gently against him so your head rests against his neck.

“Just focus on me,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. His fingers thread through your hair in soft, repetitive strokes. “You’re doing so well, love. You’ve got this. Deep breaths for me, yeah? In…and out.”

You close your eyes, your tears soaking into his shirt as you follow his lead, breathing in time with him.

“Almost there,” the nurse says, her voice calm. “You’re doing great.”

Harry keeps talking to you, his voice a steady stream of comfort. “Remember that time we went to the beach, and you got all excited about finding those tiny crabs in the tide pools? You weren’t scared then. You were brave. You’re brave now, too.”

You let out a shaky laugh despite yourself, clinging to the warmth of his words. Before you know it, the nurse says, “All done.”

“See?” Harry says, pulling back slightly to look at you, his fingers still in your hair. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

You glance down at your arm, surprised to see the IV already taped in place. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Harry confirms, a smile tugging at his lips. “Easiest thing in the world for someone as tough as you.”

You manage a small, sheepish smile, leaning into him as the nurse adjusts the IV drip. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Of course you could’ve,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you don’t have to do it alone. That’s why I’m here.”

And in that moment, despite the pain and the fear, you feel safe.

The nurse finishes adjusting the IV drip and gives you both a warm smile.

“All set. The doctor will be here shortly with the results of your X-ray,” she says. “I’ll give you two some privacy in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” Harry says, nodding at her as she steps out of the room, pulling the curtain half-closed behind her.

As soon as she’s gone, Harry pulls the chair closer to your bedside and takes your uninjured hand in both of his. His thumb moves in slow, soothing circles over your skin, his eyes scanning your face.

“Okay,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “Now, tell me what happened. And don’t say, ‘It’s nothing,’ because you’re here with an IV in your arm, and that’s definitely not nothing.”

You let out a small sigh, your voice still shaky. “Lauren and I were at Winter Wonderland, and we decided to try ice skating.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Ice skating? You’ve never been ice skating in your life.”

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “That’s why it went so badly. I was clinging to the side the whole time, but then I tried to let go, and my foot slipped. I landed on my arm.”

Harry winces, his hand tightening around yours for a moment. “That must’ve hurt like hell.”

“It did,” you admit, your voice quiet. “But honestly, I think the embarrassment hurt more. Everyone was staring, and Lauren was trying to help, but then someone called over an ice marshal, and—”

“Wait, an ice marshal?” Harry interrupts, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “That sounds way too official for a skating accident.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Tell me about it. Anyway, they called an ambulance, and Lauren stayed with me the whole time. She was amazing, but I just kept thinking how ridiculous I must’ve looked.”

Harry’s expression softens again, his humor giving way to a deeper concern. He leans forward, his voice low and steady. “Hey, listen to me. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Accidents happen, especially when you’re trying something new. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse—and that you’ve got good people like Lauren looking out for you.”

Speaking of Lauren, she was most likely speaking to the paramedics that brought you in, she definitely found him good looking.

You nod, biting your lip. “I still feel a bit stupid, though.”

“Don’t,” he says firmly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You’re human, love. And now I have a good excuse to keep you off the ice forever.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile that forms. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of ice skating either?”

“Not even a little,” he admits with a grin. “But I would’ve held your hand out there, just like Lauren did—though I probably would’ve fallen right along with you.”

You laugh softly, the warmth of his words easing some of the tension in your chest. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

The curtain pulls back, and the doctor steps in, holding a clipboard. She’s wearing a calm, reassuring smile as she approaches.

“Hello,” she says, glancing between you and Harry. “We’ve looked at your X-rays, and I’ve got some answers for you.”

You sit up a little straighter, your stomach twisting nervously. “Okay…”

“You’ve got a hairline fracture on your radius,” she explains, tapping a spot on the diagram attached to her clipboard. “It’s not severe, but it does mean you’ll need to have your arm in a cast to protect it while it heals. We’ll get that set up for you shortly, and it should come off in about six weeks.”

You let out a long sigh, slumping back against the pillow. “Six weeks?”

The doctor nods sympathetically. “I know it’s inconvenient, but it’s important to let the bone heal properly. You’ll need to avoid heavy lifting, and we’ll give you instructions for keeping the cast dry and comfortable.”

You nod, but your mind is already spinning. “So…that means I’ll have a cast over Christmas?”

The realization makes your heart sink a little.

You picture yourself struggling to wrap presents, trying to cook with one arm, and navigating all the holiday traditions you love with this big, awkward thing on your arm.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor adds, noticing your reaction. “A lot of people find they get used to it faster than they expect. And six weeks will go by before you know it.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Harry says, his voice steady and polite.

As the doctor leaves to prepare the materials for your cast, Harry turns back to you, his green eyes sparkling with determination.

“Alright,” he says, pulling his chair even closer. “This is not a big deal. In fact, we’re going to make it fun.”

“Fun?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. “How is having a cast fun?”

Harry leans forward, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Because I’m going to be the first to sign it. Big, bold letters, right across the top.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite your frustration. “And what are you going to write?”

“Oh, something sentimental,” he says with a mock-serious tone. “Like, ‘To the most amazing ice skater I know.’ Or maybe just, ‘Next time, use bubble wrap.’”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, the weight of the situation starting to feel a little lighter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I am,” he agrees, leaning closer to kiss your temple. “But I’m also going to make sure this is the best Christmas you’ve ever had—even if you’re stuck with a cast.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap protectively around you. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Always,” he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair again. “Now, let’s get this cast on, and then we’ll figure out how to turn it into a masterpiece of modern art. Sound good?”

[rmview]

relationship dynamic with you, SVT.

featuring — seventeen vocalists x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of what the seventeen rap boys are like when they're in a relationship with you! ( rapper ver. )

contents — fluff, no warnings.

jeong ♡ han

jeonghan’s relationship with you is a perfect blend of playful teasing and unwavering affection. known for his cleverness, he loves keeping things fun and unpredictable, always coming up with ways to make you laugh or blush. he has a knack for pushing your buttons just enough to elicit a reaction, but it is never mean-spirited. beneath his mischievous exterior, jeonghan is deeply in tune with your emotions. he can sense when something is bothering you, even when you try to hide it, and he makes it his mission to lift your spirits.

“you’re not going to leave me hanging, are you?” he’d tease after pulling a harmless prank, a sly smile on his lips. but when the moment called for it, jeonghan’s sincerity would shine through. “i’ll always be here for you,” he’d say softly, his tone shedding all its playfulness as he held your hand.

dok ♡ yeom

dk’s relationship with you is a constant source of light and laughter. his energy is infectious, and he has an innate ability to turn even the gloomiest days around. being with him feels like standing in the sun — warm, bright, and full of life. dk is your biggest supporter, always cheering you on and reminding you of your worth, even on days when you doubt yourself. his love language is words of affirmation, and he makes sure you never go a day without hearing how much you mean to him. dk may not be just about fun and positivity; he is also deeply thoughtful and attentive. his gestures aren’t grand, but they are always heartfelt.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he’d say with a grin, before adding, “and I’m not just saying that because you made me coffee this morning!” yet in quieter moments, dk’s love ran deeper than words. “i mean it,” he’d whisper, his voice steady and eyes filled with emotion. “you’re my everything.”

ming ♡ hao

the8’s relationship with you is defined by quiet understanding and mutual respect. as someone who values introspection and personal growth, minghao encourages you to explore your passions and find balance in your life. he isn’t one for grand displays of affection, but his love shows in the little things. minghao’s calm and thoughtful nature brings a sense of peace to your relationship. his artistic soul shines through in the way he loves you, whether it is painting a picture inspired by you or writing down the little things he admires about you in a journal.

“did you notice the moon tonight?” he’d ask, his voice soft as he pointed to the sky, pulling you into his world of thoughtful observation. and when he opened up, his words were like poetry. “loving you feels like breathing,” he’d say earnestly, his sincerity shining through every syllable.

josh ♡ ua

joshua’s relationship with you is a haven of calm and stability. as someone with a naturally gentle and considerate nature, he has a way of making you feel safe and cherished. joshua is a master of small but meaningful gestures — like bringing you your favorite flowers just because or singing you a soft lullaby when you can’t sleep. his love isn’t loud or showy, but its steadfast and reliable, grounding you in a way few people could. with joshua, communication comes easily. he is a patient listener, always ready to talk. joshua is always by your side, offering quiet encouragement and unwavering support.

“i hope you know how much i adore you,” he’d say, his voice warm and soothing as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. and when he looked at you, it felt like you were the only person in the world. “you’re my heart, you know that?”

jun ♡ hui

jun is the kind of partner who keeps you on your toes, always finding ways to make life more exciting. his quirky humor and unpredictable nature are a constant source of joy, and he loves seeing you laugh, often going to great lengths to put a smile on your face. but while jun thrives on fun and spontaneity, his affection for you is anything but fleeting. he adores showering you with attention, whether it is sneaking up behind you for a surprise hug or serenading you with a random song he made up on the spot. despite his playful demeanor, jun has a deeply romantic side. his love is expressed in the way he looks at you, his eyes full of wonder and admiration, as if he can’t believe someone as amazing as you had chosen him.

“life’s too short not to have fun,” he’d say with a wink before whisking you away for an impromptu date. but when the moment called for seriousness, jun’s words carried weight. “i might be a little crazy sometimes,” he’d confess, his tone softening, “but i promise my love for you is the one thing i’ll always be serious about.”

woo ♡ zi

woozi’s relationship with you is built on quiet devotion and an unspoken understanding. though not the most outwardly expressive, his actions speak louder than words. he has a way of making you feel loved in the simplest yet most meaningful ways — like brewing you a cup of tea when you are stressed or staying up late to help you with a project, even when he is exhausted himself. being a perfectionist, woozi often struggles to balance his work with his personal life, but he makes a conscious effort to prioritize you. and despite his reserved nature, there are times when his emotions break through, revealing just how much he cared for you.

“i’m not great with words,” he’d admit, scratching the back of his neck, “but i hope you can feel how much you mean to me.” and when he let his guard down, his words were simple yet profound. “you’re the best part of my life,” he’d say, his voice steady and filled with sincerity.

seung ♡ kwan

seungkwan’s relationship with you was vibrant, emotional, and full of life. as someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, he wasn’t shy about showing his love for you. he adored talking with you, whether it was sharing his latest dramatic story or having deep, meaningful conversations late into the night. his ability to make you laugh was unmatched, and he took great pride in being the one to lift your spirits when you were down. but seungkwan wasn’t just about fun and laughter. he is fiercely protective of you, ready to defend you against anyone or anything that threatened your happiness. his love is loud and unapologetic, and he made sure you never felt taken for granted.

“do you even realize how amazing you are?” he’d ask, exasperated but affectionate, after you doubted yourself. and when things got serious, seungkwan’s emotional depth came to the forefront. “i joke a lot,” he’d say, holding your hand, “but never about how much i love you. you’re my person, always.”

notes: i love these boys sm <3

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANONS featuring. damon maitsu, kai monteago, wolfgang akire, desmond hall and mark berskii.

edens garden maxxing rn :] i enjoyed chapter one a lot, so i’ll be pumping out a bit more writing of them ^^; feel free to send in requests, (even if its for different medias) though i already have 3-4 drafts ill be dishing out eventually.

damon, who treats you like you’re a fragile little doll, prepared for you to break at any moment. hence, why he worries for you so much. though he attempts (and fails) to play it off as a casual concern. ‘are you hurt? bleeding?’ ‘what? no? i just tripped, damon.’ ‘are you sure? let me check just incase. come on, stop moving.’ damon, who always has a limb around you. his hands? wrapped around your waist, or intertwined within your own. his legs? always pressed up against yours. if you point it out, he gets flustered and denies it, pulling away. but you’ll still find his eyes constantly lingering on you, as if he hasn’t felt your contact in months and needed it desperately. damon, who is a tease, yet gets flustered just as easily. sarcastic, teasing remarks always escaping his lips, smirking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. though the minute you retort back with a comment of your own, he's completely quiet. blushing and muttering embarrassed insults under his breath. damon, who doesn’t quite understand standards when it comes to dating. holding a door open for you? walking close to the road? wearing a hair tie on his wrist incase you’d needed one? a foreign concept to him. but regardless, upon hearing things told to him by other people whilst rambling like kai, he tries his best to adapt to it. things that would normally be unusual for him, he attempts because he wants the best for you. damon, who is stingy and a bother about little trinkets you point out. ‘do you really need that?’ ‘that looks stupid.’ ‘its so small. why is it expensive?’ yet of course, they’d somehow end up within your residence. somehow. obviously, it were damon. damon, who spoils you with acts of services. openly doing things he’d refuse to or need convincing for from others, going out of his way to do things for you without being asked, etc. sure, maybe once in awhile he’ll knock on your head and call you an idiot for not being able to do something yourself, but it’s just teasing. he truly doesn’t mind providing for you, or helping you. anything that offers spending time with you is worth it for him.

kai, who couldn’t get enough of you. your touch, your attention, your words, you name it, he likes it. his hands are constantly all over you, any opportunity he’s given. he melts within your touch, in his most vulnerable state, unable to resist anything when it comes from you and your grasp. kai, who spoils you with anything he can offer — cute endearing nicknames, gifts he’d found that he thought you’d like, or even little snacks he thought looked silly that you two could try together. he loves to see your expression light up when he offers you some item he’d found that he thought you’d enjoy. even if you don’t end up liking it, the idea of him being reminded of you or thinking of you enough to make the purchase still leaves you feeling warm. kai, who whiningly calls you princess whenever he needs something from you. aside from his casual nicknames that he adores, like sweetheart or baby, whenever princess leaves his lips, you know he wants something from you. kai, who is admittedly quite insecure. he’s scared he’ll be abandoned by you, just like he’d been left by so many others who viewed him differently due to the persona he puts on online. but because of this, it just means he cherishes what you give him more than anything. he wants you to be able to touch those negative emotions inside of him, and see what really lies within his heart, not what he puts on the internet or around others.

wolfgang, who leaves encouraging little sticky notes around your desk when spending time away from you. reminders to take care of yourself, reminders that he loves you and wishes he were with you, etc. wolfgang, who gently takes care of you whenever given the opportunity. brushing your hair in the morning, making you coffee, assisting you in filling out paperwork, you name it. despite being such a busy man, he works hard to make sure he’s around for you. wolfgang, who despite appearing so cool headed, is such a jealous boy. the type to watch you talk to someone from behind and give them a disgustingly stern glare, but the moment you turn to face him, hes smiling sweetly in your direction. the type to wrap his arms around you and get all close and mushy in order to scare off someone else eyeing you. wolfgang, who invites you out on the sweetest dates ever. picnics under the warm, dimly lit night sky, only the stars witnessing the two of you giggling away and laying together. or, a romantic date at a a fancy restaurant, where the two of you dress elegantly, yet he can’t take his eyes off of you. his mind too caught onto the gorgeous attire tight against your body, too lost in how gorgeous you look whilst speaking to him. wolfgang, who spoils you with luxurious items. anything you want? you’ll get it. he doesn’t mind what you wear, whether or not you like cute or cheap things. what does matter though, is if you want something. and if you want something, you’ll get it.

desmond, who is so smooth with his words, you could die. the way he speaks to you in such a soft and caring tone. the way he goes along willingly with whatever you say, because admittedly, what makes you happy makes him happy. the way he speaks about you in such an endearing way to others. others may be embarrassed when speaking of or sharing about someone they love, but desmond expresses the way he feels for you without hesitation. desmond, who teaches you little quirks about his ultimate. little things that could be useful for protecting you, or just things he finds neat and wants to share with you. desmond, who is perfect for a clumsy you. about to trip? hes already grabbed you, hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back up onto your feet. about to spill something? hes grabbed the glass, preventing it. his quick reflexes are almost scary.

mark, who loves to kiss a certain part of you. your hands, your nose, silly yet specific places which just make him feel warm. mark, who gets embarrassed about the way he thinks about you. who will be listening to you rambling like usual, yet turn his head out of no where, muttering to himself like a flustered mess. mark, who has an attitude which is no joke. it doesn’t come off as a surprise, but the way he rolls his eyes and grumbles makes it much easier to decipher when he’s displeased or irritated. but to him, you’re a soft spot which can always manage to cheer him up. your silence yet presence close to his serves as a type of battery for him. mark, who is constantly sharing songs that he likes to you. new songs hes found that remind him of you, a song hes been listening to a lot recently, or even just songs hes worked on. he wants you to enjoy what he does.

@ feinyan

[cosmicbucky]

daisies and dances lead to heartfelt romances

summary: you offer to take bucky out a few times so he can practice what it's like to date in the modern world. unbeknownst to each other, both your offer and his acceptance have an ulterior motive

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3845

part: one

warnings: minor swearing, fluff, tony is a dick with a hidden agenda, some angst, soft/shy/grumpy bucky, pet names/nicknames, unknown but mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, sad bucky, mentions of bucky's struggles

a/n: this is planned to be at least two parts, maybe three.

big thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for encouraging and supporting me with this!!

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The compound was quiet, softly lit to guide your way to the kitchen. It was late in the night, but not too late that everyone was asleep. Your socked feet were silent on the cold floor, and as you made your way to the fridge you heard laughter coming from the main entertainment room. You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a bottle of juice, focusing in on the conversation being held.

"Come on man! You can't be serious," you heard Sam say, laughter clear in his voice.

"Just drop it, Sam," Bucky replied, warning clear in his voice.

The smile slipped from your face as you closed the fridge with a sigh. You knew that tone. It wasn't Bucky's patented 'my god these people are so annoying' tone. It was his 'the next person who says something is getting thrown into a wall' tone. Which meant he was actually upset over whatever the conversation was about. It was rare for him to really get worked up beyond his usual moody demeanor, and you couldn't help the worry that surged through you.

"Oh, no. No, no this is way too good to drop, Barnes," Tony chimed in with a laugh. You could just picture the smirk on his face, and your feet moved quickly to carry yourself towards the conversation.

Bucky noticed you approach from where he sat, and he sent you a pleading look. Please help me, his eyes screamed.

"Don't tell me you guys are picking on Bucky again," you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the wall.

"You mean grumpy mcgee over here? You bet your ass we are," Tony replied happily.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at him. "Why now?"

"This dude can't date to save his life!" Sam spoke up, overly amused about it.

Bucky sank further into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he zoned out to somewhere far away, and you felt a pang in your heart at the sight- how can such a large man manage to look so small; so defeated?

"You guys are roasting him because he hasn't been on a date yet?" you asked, your annoyance about it clear in your voice.

It may be a little strange, but you had always felt protective over Bucky. The team often ganged up on him, and besides Steve, you were his closest friend - the two of you took a little while to warm up to each other, but once the ice thawed the two of you were rarely seen without the other. Now, it's not to say you never joined in on teasing him - because you did, quite often - but you knew when to stop. Perhaps it was because he would open up to you about some of the things he felt insecure about during your moonlit talks, the two of you tucked safely under blankets or hidden away somewhere in the compound as you spoke what neither of you could say in the light of day. Or, maybe it was because you just knew him well enough to know whether a topic would upset him or not. Whatever the reason may be for it, you always knew what was okay to say and what wasn't. Bucky would never be able to say how much he appreciated you for that.

"Tinman's been on dates, didn't you know?" Tony asked, grinning at you mischievously. "He just blew them all."

You tried not to let the hurt show on your face. He's been on dates? God, of course he has, look at him.

"Okay, and? You've never had bad dates before?" you asked, letting the anger start to shine through. "Just leave him alone."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Awe, look at that. Mommy dearest to the rescue once again, huh, Barnes?"

You stood up straight as rage surged through you, opening your mouth to tell him where to go. Before you could, Bucky's voice rang out: "Watch your fucking mouth, Stark. Or I'll shut you up myself," he warned, voice eerily calm as he glared at Tony.

Bucky was never really one to speak up when others came at him, more or less just taking it with an eye roll, clenched jaw, or tight smile as they all had their fun. However, once the comments turned towards you, as they always seemed to if you were around (and let's be honest, how often were you not around?), he was quick on his feet to stop them in their tracks, making the room feel so tense that no one else said anything for fear the air around them would actually suffocate them if they opened their mouth.

"Here we go again," you heard Sam mutter to himself. "Alright, I'm out of here. See you guys later," he added, walking out of the room with his hands up in a display of surrender.

He gave you a knowing look as he walked out, ignoring your questioning gaze and instead giving you a loving pat on the shoulder as he passed by. With him now out of sight, you turn your attention back to Tony, waiting for what was to come next.

"Look, all I'm saying-" Tony started, waving his glass around emphatically - amber liquid on the verge of splashing everywhere.

"No one cares what you're saying, Tony," you interrupted, already exasperated from the interaction.

He held up his hand, pointing a finger at you. "Come on, princess. You really gonna take away my fun? Under my own roof?"

"Yes, I am. Can't you take a day off from being a complete dick to him? Just once? We've all seen this show before, Tony, and it always ends the same way," you said, walking further into the room to snatch the glass from his hand, glaring at him as you did so. "And don't call me princess," you seethed, slamming the glass down on the side table behind you.

You didn't want to hate Tony, in all honesty you truly did love him. At the end of the day he was your family, and family wasn't perfect. However, you couldn't keep down the small bubbles of hatred that boiled inside you whenever he started to target Bucky. You didn't see him as family when he waved his disdain for the soldier around like a kite in the wind; you just saw him as a rich douchebag picking on someone beneath him. You hated the way he treated Bucky, and you absolutely loathed the way he made Bucky's voice tremble ever so slightly with self doubt when he lays in your arms in the dead of night, recounting the things Tony said to him that keep him awake, that make old wounds reopen. You loved Tony, but his hatred for Bucky also made you hate him.

"No? Do you only like it when RoboCop calls you that?" Tony asked calmly, a malicious glint shining in his eyes, his smirk growing wider when he saw your expression. 

You felt the blood rush to your face, recounting a few of the times that the name had slipped through Bucky's lips; though it was from the haze of sleep and moments of vulnerability, there were few memories you cherished more. "Go to sleep now, princess. I'll be here when you wake up." "Thank you for staying with me, princess." "You're safe now, princess." 

"Yeah, I hear a lot of things around here that I probably shouldn't. Now, why don't you lighten up and let me say my piece, princess?" Tony continued with a grin, and it took everything in you to not smack it off his face.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Bucky suddenly spat, making you jump slightly - he had fallen so silent you half forgot he was even there. The menace that dripped from his words sent a chill down your spine, and you sent one last glare at Tony before you glanced over your shoulder.

One look over at Bucky as he jumped from the couch told you he had never been more serious. His jaw was tight as his lips pressed together in a fine line, his fists clenched so tightly that the mechanisms in his left arm started to whir and the veins in his right arm shone prominently, his whole body tense as his chest heaved. He took two quick steps forward, but the second you raised your hand to his chest he stopped.

"Buck, it's alright," you said calmly. You knew it wasn't - you were angry, hurt, embarrassed, and a million other things; but you couldn't let Bucky in on that. You had to brush it all off so you could be the calm that Bucky needed in order to tame the never ending storm raging furiously inside him.

Bucky looked down at you with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't understand a word you said. "I'm supposed to just let him talk to you like that?"

If it weren't for the seriousness of the moment, you would have blushed from his words. Instead, you huffed and lightly shoved him away. "Yes, because you're feeding into exactly what he wants, Bucky. You know all he wants is to mess with you."

"Not true," Tony chimed in from behind you. "I want lots of things, pumpkin. In fact, one of those things is Pepper, so I'll be going now. And hey, when you and soldier boy here finally get married, just remember - I'm ordained."

You spared a glance in his direction just in time to see his shit-eating grin before he turned and sauntered happily out of the room.

"Can you two ever give me a fucking break?" you scolded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Aw don't you start now, too," Bucky whined, tossing his head back slightly as he sighed, making his way back to the couch.

You sighed as well, following in his wake to plop down beside him. You didn't need to say anything, he took one look at you and knew the question that was already dancing on your tongue: what was it about this time?

"Look, it doesn't matter," he huffed out, slumping his shoulders as he looked down at his hands resting on his lap, wringing his fingers together. 

“Come on, when have I ever let it go that easily?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 

He let out a humourless chuckle, the corners of his mouth flicking upwards for the briefest of moments as the memories of the countless times you two have been in this situation flashed through his mind. 

You could see the turmoil on his face, and you knew he was trying to find a way to express what was going on, so you sat patiently and waited for him to find the proper words. 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he finally settled on, the words coming out in a rushed breath. 

Before you could question him, he carried on with a frown, his brows knit together. “It was so much easier back then, you know? Flash a smile, go to the fair, wear the uniform, whatever. I never had to think about it, but now there’s- there’s just so much…. so much expectation. You bring flowers and you care too much, you don’t bring flowers and you don’t care enough. I-it’s like everything that I do, I should have done the opposite. I can’t get anything right.”

You sat in silence for a moment, his words bouncing around in your head. Each syllable he spoke fractured your heart until it was shattered into bits; but all you cared about as you looked at the broken man in front of you was putting him back together, hoping that your words and your comfort and your care would be enough to put together the delicate pieces of him - the pieces that broke off every time he doubted himself, every time he remembered his past, every time he did something wrong on a mission - the pieces that you picked up and kept safe inside of yourself until you had the chance to give them back to him, gluing them on with whispers of affirmation and promises that everything would be okay in time.

“You never mentioned any of this before,” you said tentatively, the unspoken words why did you keep this from me? hanging in the air. “Is this what they were teasing you about? Your struggle to figure out how to date again?”

He let out a huff of air as he slung his head back to rest against the back of the couch, shaking it lightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing with contemplation. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but then Jackass 1 and Jackass 2 found out and ran with it.”

“Okay, well.. walk me through it. Is there someone you want to take out on a date right now? Maybe I can give you some ideas,” you offered softly, the words tasting bitter in your mouth as you spoke them. 

He groaned, running his hands over his face before smacking them back down on his legs, his palms dragging across the fabric covering his thighs for a few seconds; a habit, you noticed, that he often did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “No,” he said flatly, biting down on his tongue to keep the words yes, my delicate little flower, I want to take you out on a date from tumbling out of his mouth. 

“No?” you echoed, surprised by the response. 

He nodded his head in confirmation. “No,” he repeated, looking at you. Taking in your expression, he carried on. “Like, no there isn’t anyone. I don’t- I didn’t even want to go on those dates, but… I couldn’t- I mean, I kinda just…. felt like I needed to."

There was so much he left unsaid at this moment. So much he wanted to say, needed to say - not only just to get it off his chest, but because he believed that you deserved to know. Every time he looked at you he had the burning desire to bare his soul to you, to tell you all the things he kept buried away in the deep recesses of his mind, locked away in a vault only you could open. He wanted to tell you that he still feels so out of place, that most days when he was out in this new world he suddenly resembled a child who was lost amongst a crowd of scary and unfamiliar things - desperately searching for something he recognized that he could cling to. He wanted to tell you that you were the familiar thing he found to cling to, that he carried you in his head and in his heart every time he was out; that when things got too overwhelming he closed his eyes and recalled the encouraging words you always told him, that when that wasn't enough he called you with some lame excuse just so he could ground himself with your voice - "Hey, doll. What was the name of that bakery you took me to the other week? I'm thinking of getting more of those cookies we liked." He had saved the bakery's location to his phone (something he knew how to do thanks to you) the second he saw how your eyes sparkled when you got there, just to make sure he could always find it and pick things up for you. "Hey, so, I just got yelled at because I walked by and ruined someone's… what the fuck was it? It has to do with a clock or something? Does that sound like something you know? Please tell me what the hell that is because I feel like I'm going insane." He knew what it was. He had downloaded the app after he witnessed how much it made you laugh, and he had an endless amount of saved videos that he thought you would like, but for some reason wasn't brave enough to show you. "Okay, I’m out shopping - and don't laugh because this is a serious question - do you think I would look good in pink?" He vividly remembered your words from a few months ago, when he was burritoed in your fuzzy pink blanket during movie night, and you told him so casually that he should start wearing pink because it complimented his eyes. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing in this universe that could still the incessant maelstrom that was his mind. That when he was out on those dates the storm raged on more intensely than ever, but one look or word from you and everything was quiet; not even a trace of rain. 

He wanted to tell you. But he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Oh, but he needed to- 

"You wanted to try to fit in," your gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at you. To see your eyes, full of understanding. To see your lips, pulled into a sad smile - but not one of pity, one that said all you wanted was to help him through yet another battle he was fighting with himself.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I just figured.. well, I don't know. Everyone kept saying how I needed to get out there. That dating was the next best step I could take to try and….. to- to understand how to live in this world better. I just wanted things to make sense again, but now I'm even more lost and confused than before I even went on those god damn dates."

You tried to keep your face even, to not let him see how sad it made you to hear the way his voice wavered when he told you what was going on. To not let him know that you sensed how small he was feeling, how even though his broad frame still shadowed you as you both sat there, he had never seemed so small.

"Well…. take me on a date," you suggested, not taking the time to even think about it. 

Bucky swore the whole room started to spin. His mouth ran dry and his heart hammered so heavily in his chest that he was convinced you could hear it. He knew he heard you wrong, he wasn't lucky enough to have a girl like you. The world was cruel, and he knew that the one sliver of hope that he had for a truly blissful life would never be fully his. That one day it would leave him, just like everything else throughout the years, as you found yourself in the arms of someone else. He would never have you the way he wanted you, the way he needed you. He knew that. So he had to have misheard you. "Come again?" 

Your whole face lit up when he asked this, and Bucky could feel himself coming undone. Your hands on his arm when you grabbed him in excitement suddenly felt so different than in the past. It used to feel warm, comforting, calming; but for some reason this time it sent a jolt of fire and electricity through him, and he never wanted to lose that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, feel it always, feel it forever. 

“Yeah! Oh, it would be great, Buck! We can go on a few dates, and I can help you find your footing with it all before you get back out there,” you said excitedly. You purposely overinflated your smile so he wouldn’t see the way your lips faltered with the struggle of getting out the last part, diverting your gaze for the smallest of moments so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes dimmed with the thought of him being with someone else. 

Bucky shifted where he sat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as his mind went into overdrive trying to think of a response. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to say yes, but then there was a small piece of him that knew it wouldn’t end well - the piece that knew how he truly felt about you, the piece that knew it would easily be tricked into thinking these dates actually meant something to you; because lord knows they would mean the world and more to him. Bucky wanted to say yes, but he knew he had to say no. He had to say no because it wouldn’t be fair to you - you were offering to help him and he would be taking advantage of your kindness, using it to get to see you in a light he’d never be able to otherwise. He had to say no because saying yes could ruin everything. He may not be able to go back to the way it was before these dates, too addicted to ever quit you. He had to say no, for your sake, because it was a selfless offer. Bucky, however, was selfish when it came to you. 

“You know, doll… that may not be the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he had said, giving you a lopsided smile. Your eyes lit up once more as you grinned at him, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, feeling as giddy as he did the first time he was allowed to stay up late as a kid. 

“Excellent choice, Barnes,” you said playfully. “I swear you won’t regret it, it’ll be really fun. Just you and me, no expectations.”

Bucky nodded, shifting his head to scratch his jaw so you wouldn’t see the light frown that danced across his lips for a moment. “No expectations,” he repeated, careful to keep his voice level. “I can work with that.”

“Good,” you said softly, nodding a little. “I’ll give you some time to think about it and plan something, and you can just let me know whenever you wanna go on date number one.”

He was silent for a minute, taking the time to carefully churn the words over in his mind before answering. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he knew immediately what he wanted to do. How could he not? All he ever did was look for new things he thinks you’d like, find himself dreaming of where he’d take you if he ever got the chance. Sure, you guys have done lots of things together before - brunches, lunches, dinners, movie nights, events, parties; you name it. Though there was never any meaning with any of those, it was always just friends spending time together. How were either of you supposed to know you each wished they meant something more? Heaven forbid you two would actually say how you felt.

"No need," Bucky said, rising from the couch with a small chuckle, looking down at you with the smile he reserved only for you. The one that skillfully said everything and nothing all at once. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐀 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluffy fluff, Flash

Summary → You forgot your sports bra for gym class but Peter is there to save the day.

The sun peeked over the rooftops of Midtown High School, casting a warm glow over the students gathered outside for gym class. Today’s challenge: a run through the vibrant streets of New York City. The gym teacher, Mr. Wilson's whistle blew, and students took off, their sneakers pounding against the pavement.

You sighed as you began to walk quickly rather than run. You had forgotten your sports bra that morning, and each step sent a painful reminder through your chest. Running was out of the question. You were used to pushing through discomfort, but today it felt especially hard.

Noticing your slower pace, Peter, your ever so loving and slightly overprotective boyfriend, quickly fell into step beside you. At 5 feet 8 inches, with a lean but strong frame, Peter was effortlessly athletic. His brown curls bounced as he jogged lightly, a bright smile on his face. “Come on, baby, I know you can run faster!” He encouraged, his tone sweet and full of energy.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as you winced with each step. “Peter, I—” you started, but before you could finish, MJ and Betty slowed down to join you.

MJ smirked knowingly. “You’re completely oblivious, aren’t you, Parker?”

Betty giggled. “Seriously, Peter, you need to pay more attention.”

Peter, puzzled, looked from one girl to the other, his brows furrowing. “What? What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely concerned as he turned to you.

Before you could answer him, Flash Thompson, Midtown’s resident bully and Peter’s longtime enemy, jogged up to the group with a smirk. “What’s the holdup, Parker? Too busy fawning over your girlfriend to keep up?”

Peter sighed but didn’t respond to the teasing, as usual. Flash had been picking on him since middle school, and while the jabs had lessened over time, they still stung occasionally. But Peter wasn’t one to fight back with words. Instead, he focused on you, his concern overriding any annoyance he might have felt toward Flash.

You, on the other hand, gave Flash a flat look. “I’m fine, Flash. Just taking it easy today.”

Flash shrugged, his smirk growing as he looked at you. “You know, Y/n, you could always ditch Parker and upgrade to someone who can carry you the whole way. I’ve got the muscles for it,” he teased, flexing for effect.

MJ rolled her eyes, while Betty stifled a laugh. “Oh, please, Flash. As if she’d ever trade Peter for you,” MJ quipped, crossing her arms.

Flash feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Michelle. But I’m nothing if not persistent.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. Flash could be a pain, but he had his moments. “I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

Peter, finally catching on to the situation, turned back to you. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you running?” He asked, concern deepening in his voice.

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed but touched by his worry. “It’s just… I forgot my sports bra, Pete. Makes running a bit of a challenge, and my boobs are sore because I'm nearing my period,” you explained softly, motioning to your chest.

Realization dawned on Peter’s face, his eyes widening. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” His voice was laced with concern. “What can I do to help?”

You shook your head, giving him a gentle smile. “There’s nothing you can really do right now, babe. I just have to push through and get it done.”

Peter frowned deeply, clearly not satisfied with that answer. He paused, his mind racing for a solution. Suddenly, his face lit up with an idea. “I’ve got it! Just hop on my back!” He exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Flash, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Parker? You’re going to carry her all the way back? Good luck with that.”

MJ rolled her eyes again, unimpressed. “Like you could do any better, Flash.”

Betty, beside her, giggled. “Honestly, it's adorable.”

Peter, unfazed by Flash’s teasing, crouched down in front of you, his grin wide. “Get on, Y/n/n. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You hesitated for a moment, still unsure, but the warmth in Peter’s eyes convinced you. Carefully, you climbed onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he stood up, adjusting to your weight with ease. He started walking again, this time carrying you effortlessly, a determined look on his face.

As you guys continued the route, more than a few students turned to watch, some with amused smiles, others with light chuckles. Ned jogged over, his face beaming with delight. “You two are so cute! I’ve got to get this on video,” he said, pulling out his phone.

Flash, jogging beside them, couldn’t resist one last jab. “Don’t drop her, Parker. She might realise she could’ve had the real deal instead,” he teased, but there was no real malice in his tone.

Peter just smiled, too focused on you to let Flash’s words bother him. “I won’t drop her. She’s too important to me.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You murmured, but there was no mistaking the warmth in your voice.

“Crazy about you,” Peter replied with a wink.

When you guys finally made it back to the school, Peter gently let you down, his face flushed with exertion but his smile as bright as ever. “See? Told you we could do it!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a wave of affection wash over her. “Yeah, we did.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush even more. “Thanks, Pete. You’re the best.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Anything for you, babe.”

As you walked back into the school together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, forgetting your compression bra hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

MJ, watching them with a soft smile, shook her head. “He’s such a dork.”

“But it's cute, though,” Betty added with a grin.

Flash, trailing behind, called out, “Hey, Parker! Don’t think this means you’ve won or anything. I’ll get my chance with Y/n one day!”

Peter just laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Flash.”

And as the bell rang, signalling the end of gym class, the group of friends headed inside, their laughter echoing through the halls. It was just another day at Midtown High, but for you, it was a reminder of how lucky you were to have someone like Peter—someone who would always carry you through the tough times, in more ways than one.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[star-girl69]

Because Of You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: years after your rite of passage, the boy who’s heart you broke just won’t leave you alone. clarisse, your girlfriend, quickly decides she’s not a fan.

a/n: should i stop procrastinating and then forcing myself to write shitty fics quickly? probably. but not today!! this is kinda just like an au of dont delete the kisses but… you guessed it… IDC!!!!!!!! from this ask

thank you all so much for patiently waiting i love y’all soooooo muuccchhhhhh 🫶🫶💋 as i mentioned on my acc i have the next week off from school, pls expect more content then!!

Because Of You - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, this sucks so bad y’all sorry lolllll, y/n is a year round camper!, starts out very background heavy but i really don’t care 😭, creepy men UGH, ugly bitches not being able to let shit go, im gonna say sexual harassment just incase, swearing, usual demigod stuff y’all know what you’re getting into, jealous!clarisse YESSS, possessive!clarisse ik i screamed!!, protective!clarisse too, slightly graphic makeout scene, i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

When you were young, you were thrilled by the thought of love.

The idea of belonging not only with someone- bodies fitting together like puzzles pieces- but belonging to someone- wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Later, your half-siblings would describe mostly similar experiences to yours- an overwhelming desire to be loved, wanted, needed. Ever since you ran into camp with a monster hot on your heels and satyr shouting encouragement next to you- everyone’s stared at you. They poke and prod, they act like they’ve never seen a daughter of Aphrodite before.

It’s annoying, but it makes you feel good- but not quite.

Until Alek came along.

You were both 13, you still believed in soulmates, and you wanted nothing more than to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

You were 13, and he felt like the only one for you.

And when you had to break up with him to fulfill your rite of passage- it felt like the world was ending. You cried for days and begged your sister Phoebe to say it wasn’t a true, it was just a mean, mean prank.

But she couldn’t tell you that, and there were more types of love that romantic.

While you longed to hold someone, to be held- you also craved your mother’s approval like you were starving. You wanted her love, you wanted her to visit you in your dreams, you wanted gifts from her, you wanted everything and anything she could give you.

So, it hurt like you had never known hurt before, but you did it. Alek seemed entirely indifferent to it, almost ignoring you and pretending you hadn’t said it- but you felt a warmness around you, a dove flew between trees, you knew your mother was there and she approved.

Breaking up with Alek felt like the sun had exploded on top of you.

Being with Clarisse felt like the sun was wrapped around you.

—-

After Alek’s initial denial, he went through all the other stages of grief, mourned your relationship like you did, and you came out on the other side with a one-sided agreement to forget it ever happened.

Alek got stuck. Or went back. He started to believe that you were still meant to be, that much you could tell.

Until that day at the training fields when your hand slipped at archery and you almost shot Clarisse in the head- and she had glared at you so harshly while you ran over and examined her head, gushing out apologies and fretting over her.

She pushed you away, hand lingering for a second, eyes softening before she quickly looked away.

“Just… be more careful,” she had said, almost like a question, like she wasn’t sure the words were coming out of her mouth.

And, Gods, were you terrified it was all some secret plan. Make you think it was alright only to corner you in the woods and probably kill you, or something.

And when she asked the next day to teach you how to shoot a bow, you agreed with tears in your eyes, knowing of her reputation, and it took a lot of trust and a lot of swapped secrets for her to prove to you it wasn’t all some elaborate plan.

But even if her plan was to kill you the entire time, you fell in love over her fixing your stance, hands brushing as you accidentally grabbed the same arrow, stolen looks across the pavilion.

It wasn’t until a random kid bumped into you, making you fall and twist your ankle. Clarisse had this look in her eyes that was so genuine, so full of love and care for you, softly caressing your leg after she had punched the other kid in the face.

And you realize as she said you were doing great, limping while she helped you to the infirmary, that this was something.

And as much as you hated the violence being committed over you, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and the warmth in your chest was all you had ever wanted. This was what it was like to belong with someone, to someone, with her, to her.

This was what it was like to be admired. Loved. Wanted. Needed.

And when she softly told you goodbye, you had kissed the corner of her lips and thanked her- turning to walk into your cabin, ankle already feeling better thanks to the ambrosia.

She grabbed you by the wrist and turned you around, pulling you against her tightly and kissing you so harshly like she had just found the secret to the world in her lips on yours, her hands on your hips.

And when she finally pulled away, embarrassing strings of spit connecting your lips, she said she was sorry. Probably the first time she had ever said that to someone, and you smiled.

“Sorry. It’s just… once your lips were on mine, I don’t think I can ever stop. I don’t wanna stop.”

And she kissed you again and it was all you ever wanted out of this life- to love and be loved, to hold and to be held, and it was all because of her.

—-

The welcome back campfire is your favorite time of year.

It’s when the camp comes alive, when the Gods themselves seem to return to this place- even Mr. D is a bit more lively with all the pure infectious energy running through the first few days of camp. Everyone’s getting settled, classes haven’t started quite yet, and the year round campers get a much needed break.

As much as you and Clarisse wanted to keep things private, when she punches someone in the middle of the pavilion for accidentally bumping into you, it’s not hard to figure out Clarisse cares for you more than she does anyone else.

And after one of your younger siblings, Cara, a 12-year-old notorious for staying up late, saw you and Clarisse kissing that first night- it spread like wildfire.

But it was the winter, so it still felt secret, until summer rolled around and Clarisse kept getting more and more annoyed by every camper who entered the gates. She would grab at you in the middle of meals, drag you into her bed, even kiss you in public- do all these things that seemed so out of character for her, but she was a different person when she was with you.

Everyone had been looking at you oddly all night, shocked, confused, even Clarisse has cracked a genuine smile at someone who dropped their drink- squeezing your hand.

Maybe they had all heard the rumors. Maybe they didn’t believe them.

But it’s all cleared up when Clarisse leads you to the best seat, the log not too far from the fire but not too close, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your temple.

Your cheeks heat up, only because Clarisse is never this touchy in public, and never around this many people before.

All of the eyes on you feel weird- they feel so judging.

And you’re not used to that, however vain it may be.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you mumble, shuffling closer to Clarisse so your legs are pressed together.

She leans her head against your shoulder. “‘S okay. Don’t worry about ‘em, baby.”

You huff. “Did no one ever teach them it’s rude to stare, though? Like… c’mon.”

She sighs dramatically, lifting her head from your shoulder.

“Stop fuckin’ staring,” she says. Not quiet shouting, but her voice is loud and forceful. Her voice carries weight.

And eventually, at the risk of Clarisse’s wrath, all the wandering eyes stop.

A few of Clarisse’s siblings laugh from around you, commenting that the stares were getting a bit ridiculous, everyone just grateful that you all might get a little reprieve from the overwhelming stares and whispers.

But, you still feel uneasy. Clarisse kisses your shoulder.

And while you look around at the faces very pointedly not staring at you, there’s one person who still is. You roll your eyes, open your mouth to comment on it- but your mouth quickly snaps close at the sight of Alek.

—-

You don’t mention it to Clarisse. Maybe because breaking his heart haunts you, maybe what could have been haunts you.

You try not to think of Alek or that night, you try not to think of the entire age of 13. You always knew that Alek never quite let you go. He still sort of believed that the two of you would come back together- subscribing to some abstract belief soulmates.

You don’t think about Alek. Everything you do is because of her, because of Clarisse.

Sometimes, knowing you have secret admirers makes you feel all happy, but now that Clarisse sneaks you into her cabin every night- it makes you feel weird. You really don’t want anyone except for Clarisse, the idea of even being near someone else kinda disgusts you.

But, you choose to believe that maybe he was just shocked, and he’ll get over it in a few days.

You spend your days in the summer sun with Clarisse, holding her hand on walks through the strawberry fields, still using your archery lessons to spend time together, staring at each other from across the pavilion at meals, dreaming about a future together when it gets dark and you’re forced to whisper softly.

Alek is just always lurking. Is it coincidence? Is he stalking you? Every time you’re with Clarisse, trying to enjoy a nice date, he’s there- staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

And if it wasn’t because of her, you would probably be flattered. But you have Clarisse, you’ve moved on, you’re in love and happy.

It’s the late afternoon, you’re trying to enjoy a long moment with her, breathe in the sweet smell and just feel how happy you are, know it’s because of her.

The fields are still crowded with kids who pushed off their chores until the end of the day, so you and Clarisse stay on the outskirts. Not too far into the woods that’s filled with satyrs and nymphs who have grown very hostile towards any two campers who make their way into the woods. But not too close.

You don’t even register that other people are there. You’re going on about your annoying half-brother, she’s pretending to listen intently- but it’s just enough to be here with her, and at least she’s listening to the sound of your voice. At least that brings her some comfort, and that makes you feel good.

“And then, he said-” you trail off, feeling like something’s crawling all over you, practically being able to feel the anger in the air.

“Hm, what?” Clarisse asks, snapping out of her reverie at your silence.

Alek is glaring at you, of course. It just feels so juvenile. You had received letters from him for years- ones that he didn’t sign- but you knew. He said that the two of you had so much more to give together, that a second chance was all he needed to make you forget about the rite of passage, about pleasing your mother.

Clarisse squeezes your hand, leaning closer to you.

You used to like the feeling of getting those letters, of knowing you were loved and wanted. But now, with Clarisse, because of her- it feels wrong.

She follows your eye line and Alek quickly looks away, back down at the strawberries he’s supposed to be picking.

Clarisse’s hand tightens around yours.

“Who the hell is that?” she huffs.

You suck in a breath. “Alek.”

“Al-huh?”

You smile, despite how uneasy you feel.

“Alek, Clarisse. From my rite of passage?”

“Oh,” she nods, nose scrunching ever so slightly. “The one who left you those creepy letters? Has he left anymore?”

“No, no,” you say, risking one more glance at his back- just to assure yourself. Maybe you’re just making it all up. “Not since last summer. I mean, he was staring at us the night of the bonfire too, he’s always around on all our dates- it’s just creepy, at this point.”

“Sounds like the fucker has a death wish,” she drawls. “I’d be happy to help him with it.”

You bump her shoulder with yours. “Yeah, yeah Miss Violence.”

She smiles back, but she searches her eyes and you can tell she doesn’t like what she sees.

“Hey, c’mon. I’ll kill him if he pulls some shit again.”

“Clarisse.”

“Beat him up?”

“Clarisse.”

“Physically threaten him?”

“Clar-”

She smacks her hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.”

“Clarisse!” you shout, laughing, but her hand is still pressed tight over your moth.

“Oh, sorry, baby, I can’t hear you!”

“Bitch,” you hiss, and she frowns.

“Mean.”

—-

Clarisse, unfortunately, is true to her word.

Alek finally leaves you a note. It’s simple, unsigned, but obviously him. You recognize his chicken scratch scrawl.

All it says is:

I miss you, we could be something

She writes him a note back, a long one- first talking about all of her accomplishments as a daughter of Ares, then detailing all the ways she’ll make him regret thinking about you.

She tells you now, whispers in her bed, she laughs and your mouth hangs open.

“Clarisse!” you gasp, scolding her with a soft hit to her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes and moves closer to you.

“What else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? You don’t know me if you think I could just ignore some random dude flirting with my girlfriend. He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, and hopefully that note will teach him somethin’.”

“I mean. I doubt it will,” you mumble after a moment.

She smiles, your heart squeezes- because her smile is so beautiful- and because Clarisse never smiles like this. It’s bloodthirsty. It’s almost inhuman. It’s Godly.

“Then I’ll have to teach him in… other terms.”

—-

Dinner this evening is slow and relaxed. It’s Friday, so you’ve all made it to the end of the first official week of camp. Chiron let’s the rules fade away tonight, cabin tables have been abandoned and everyone sits where they want.

A few Hermes kids volunteered to start a fire, Mr D is busy trying to get the new kids to sneak him some alcohol- but he’s hard pressed to find ones who haven’t already been warned not to.

The energy in the air is infectious. The promise of a late wake up tomorrow, a fun night, the feeling of the moon and the fire, warmth on your skin- it’s a recipe for lowered inhibitions, for everything to come a little easier.

Clarisse sits next to you a table in the pavilion. You’re surrounded by Silena and Beckendorf, a few Hermes kids, a few Ares kids- a big mosh of random campers squeezed together at this one table- but it works, for whatever reason.

There’s nothing like laughing at someone’s shitty joke and feeling Clarisse laugh with you, pressed close to her so you can feel her chest rumble, feel her arm squeeze around you.

“He did what?!” Silena screeches, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh at her shock, at the audacity of Alek.

She sneaks a quick glance at Clarisse, who seems entirely engrossed in her siblings’ arm wresting tournament at the next table over.

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling sort of complacent with it now. It’s not like anything will change. You’re here because of her, because of Clarisse. Everything you do is because of her.

Breathing, eating, sleeping. Basic human functions and the need to survive has only strengthened with the motivation of staying alive for her.

“Anyways,” you smile. “Clarisse left him back this big, long note. All about how she’s the strongest girl at camp,” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too big to be anything but joking. Besides, everyone knows she’s probably right. “And then threatened him a whole bunch. So, hopefully, he’ll just get his head out of his ass and then everything will be good again.”

You breathe out at the end of your small rant, and Silena smiles sympathetically.

“Hopefully,” she echoes.

But, because of Clarisse, because of her arms around you, you don’t feel anything but peace.

—-

Of course, life is not straightforward for demigods.

At the end of the day, you’re doomed to fall in your parents footsteps- except there is no immortality for you to fall back on. You’re vain and you’re proud, just like your parents, and you step too far, jump too high, and you’re as left dust on the floor.

Even though the same path had been left out for you to repeat, doomed footsteps to follow in, you step where they stepped and expect a different end.

The night is pitch black, besides for the brilliant stars and the bright, bright moon. It makes everything feel so private and secret. It makes Clarisse relax, makes her hold you closer but looser.

It feels good to feel her arm loose around you. She’s not afraid of you disappearing, because she knows of someone dragged you away you would rise up from the waves and straight back into her, into her arms.

The Apollo kids are playing music, voices hum along, the night is on fire with the crackles and the rising smoke, on fire with the peace, the content.

It feels like nothing can hurt you here.

But you’re a demigod, and life is not that easy.

The seat next to you is abandoned, and you barely even take notice as it’s quickly filled again- but you take notice of the eyes on you, of the body leaning forward to speak softly to you.

The fact that he’s here, the fact that he blatantly didn’t listen- you suppose you could have felt some sympathy for before, craving a life that wasn’t his anymore. Living off of memories made him too hungry.

Your mouth presses into a thin line as you recognize the voice in your ear.

“Y/N, I jus’ wanna talk.”

The rest of the table has fallen silent, and you realize everyone had almost immediately taken notice of his entrance- and you could tell by the way Clarisse’s body was tense against yours- he would regret ever coming over here.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, shifting closer to her.

She hooks her head over her shoulder, shifting completely so she’s straddling the bench, pressed up against your back.

Her tone is genuinely confused.

“Are you, like, okay in the head?”

The table, previously silent with fear, now bubbles with forced laughter.

“It’s not of your business,” Alek says, staring directly into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, just completely shocked, too scared to move like it will all become real.

Clarisse puts her hand on your forehead and floats it down across your face, and your eyes voluntarily flutter shut.

“You’re not even worthy of being looked at by her,” and you can hear the smile on her voice. She confidence seeping from her pores- you can feel it all with the way she’s protectively wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” he says again, ignoring her through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk.”

“If you say one more fuckin’ word to my girlfriend I’m gonna kill you.”

There’s no smile on her voice, no edge of a joke. Not even angry. She’s deathly calm. She’s focused, like a 20 pound weight sinking to the bottom of the sea. She cuts through whatever she has to and everything else knows to avoid her.

You don’t know why the hell Alek just can’t let the 13 year old version of you go, why he’s looking something where there’s nothing, and you’re just so done with all of this.

You open your eyes, sitting up, letting Clarisse’s arms fall around you in confusion.

“Alek,” you start, softly. “We dated for a month when we were 13. That’s all it was, that’s all it’s ever gonna be. It’s over, okay?”

“Exactly,” he breathes. “A month when we were 13- and we were that good together? We could do so much more now, I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’m done,” you mumble, standing up.

And without you in between, Alek finally gets a good look at the daughter of war. She’s pure, streamlined muscle. Every inch of her body has been meticulously trained to kill monsters- Alek knows that killing him would be easy.

Clarisse cracks her knuckles and you almost laugh at how cinematic it is.

—-

You hum as you run the alcohol pad over her split knuckles. Clarisse likes to leave the scars like this, the small ones, let them heal on her own. Even though she winces at the feeling, you know she’ll be walking around, proudly showing off her scabs until they finally fade away. She’ll cross her fingers and hope they scar, probably.

Clarisse watches you with admiration, admiring your movements, your voice, even though you’re really not doing anything special. But, to her, everything you do is special.

“Did you see how bad his face was?” she asks, trying to remain calm, but eagerness slips into her voice.

“I did,” you laugh. “It was real bad, baby. Good job.”

She huffs, as if it’s common knowledge.

“I always do a good job, just matters what level of good I’m on. I think this was one of my best works though, huh?”

She admires her split knuckles and you roll your eyes, finally starting to put some bandaids on the clean wounds.

“You’re crazy,” you mutter.

She shrugs. “You’re the one who let me. You’re the one who loves me.”

“Yeah,” you mumble after a moment, not really wanting to lie to her, tease her right now. She smiles soft and sweet, placing her fingertips against your jawline and leaning forward.

“Did you like watching me?” she breathes, her low voice hitting you right in the stomach, breath against your lips.

You circle her biceps with your hands and run them up and down the tense muscle.

“You know I did.”

“Three months no dessert,” she smiles.

“Three months of sharing with you,” you laugh. She smiles wider before finally, mercifully, putting her lips on yours.

Everything you do is because of Clarisse. It feels so good to be close to her like this- practically in her lap- fo feel how strong she is, to know what she did for you today.

It feels so good to know she loves you.

When you pull away, trying to chase her, she dodges you and kisses your jawline, your neck, and you throw your head back and release the most unladylike sounds as she leaves hickies on your neck, seemingly determined to make them as dark as possible, as easy to see. And a lot of them.

“Jealous?” you say, biting your lip to keep in a moan.

“Just want everyone to know you’re my girl. Want everyone to know who makes you feel good, feel loved, huh?”

You stomach twists and your mind goes blank.

“Huh?” she repeats, sticking her face in your neck to breathe in and out, catching her breath. “Why you feelin’ like this, baby?”

“Because of you,” you breathe. “Because of you, Clarisse.”

—-

y/n walking around the next day looking like she got attacked by a vampire

silena trying to be happy for y’all but also concerned for your health

clarisse just being proud as hell

—-

this was small so idk if y’all picked it up but clarisse was jealous before alek even came along- jealous that there were more campers coming! like? she just doesn’t like unworthy losers looking at her girl 🙄

—-

possessive!clarisse i love you so much baby

—-

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