#and like the next day his hair is back to normal but his bad mood carries on for weeks

[discocholforever]

I think Jean should get frosted tips

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ��bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[waitimcomingtoo]

And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels

Masterlist

“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.

“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.

“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.

“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.

“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.

“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“

“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”

“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”

“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”

“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.

“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.

“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.

“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.

“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.

“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.

“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.

“Hi Peter.”

“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.

“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”

“No problemo.” Peter said back.

“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.

“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.

“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.

“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”

“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.

“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”

“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.

“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.

“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.

“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.

“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”

“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.

“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.

“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.

“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”

“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.

“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.

“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.

“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.

“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”

“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.

“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.

“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”

“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.

“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.

“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.

“But-“

“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.

“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.

“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.

“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.

“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.

Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.

“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.

“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.

“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.

“I’m Drew.” He said.

“Y/n.” You said back.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”

“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.

“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.

“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.

“Oh shit. Was it bad?”

“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”

“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.

“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.

“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.

“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”

“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.

“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.

“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.

“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.

The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.

“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.

“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.

“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.

“Why not?” Peter asked.

“I have a date.”

Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.

“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.

“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.

“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.

“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Ned.” Peter said warningly.

“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.

“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.

“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”

“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”

“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”

“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.

“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“

“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.

“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.

“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”

“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.

“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.

“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”

“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”

“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”

“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.

“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.

“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.

“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.

“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.

“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”

“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.

“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.

“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.

“You do?” You asked Peter.

“No?” Peter replied.

“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.

“Where is the date?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”

“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.

“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.

“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.

“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.

“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.

“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.

“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.

“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.

“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.

“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.

“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.

“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”

“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”

“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”

“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.

“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.

When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.

“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight

“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”

“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.

“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.

“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.

“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”

“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.

“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.

“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.

“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”

“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.

“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”

“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.

“What did he want?” He asked her.

“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”

“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”

“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.

“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.

“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”

“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.

“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.

“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.

“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.

“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”

“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.

“My tummy hurts.” You whined.

“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.

“Magic beans?”

“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.

“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”

“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.

“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.

“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.

“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.

“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.

“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”

“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For going on this date.”

“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.

“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”

“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”

“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.

“Oh, that’s not-“

“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”

Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.

“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.

“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.

“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“

“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”

“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.

“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.

“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.

“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.

“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.

“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.

“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.

“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”

“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.

“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.

“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”

“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.

“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.

“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.

“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.

When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.

“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.

“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.

“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.

“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.

“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”

“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.

“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”

“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.

“Clarification about what?”

“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”

“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.

“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.

“Hm.” You hummed.

“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.

“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.

“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”

“You did.” He realized with a smile.

“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”

Tag list 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[inkdrinkerworld]

Reader takes bc and experiences nausea and loss in appetite because of it

“Spencer I’m not taking it and you can’t force me.” It’s Sunday, a day that used to be your favourite but once a month when you get your period Sunday becomes the day you take your first birth control for the month and you’re plagued with almost immediate nausea.

“Angel,” he coos softly, stroking your hand as you lay pitifully in bed. Spencer knows it can’t feel good, he’s been nauseous before and it isn’t fun. It’s even less fun seeing you so pale and bleak and a little down as you try to get a handle on yourself again.

“No,” you shake your head, turning away from where he’s got the box and a bottle water extended to you. “Can’t I just skip this month?”

Spencer knows it’s bad, it’s terrible on the best of days. But he also knows how bad it is when you don’t take the pills.

He doesn’t know how to make it better, he isn’t a medical doctor but he’s spoken to your OBGYN and she’d said to stick it out till your next appointment.

Except, sticking it out gives you intense sickness, a loss in appetite most days and a craving for refreshing fruits- like watermelon and cucumbers- when you finally do want to eat, which isn’t substantial enough to take any of your medicine.

“You know you can’t, angel.” He sets the things down near your legs. Spencer’s hand coasts your forehead and cheek. “Remember this is a new brand, the nausea is normal. I know it doesn’t feel good, but it’ll help in the long run.”

You know he’s trying to help but right now you don’t give a damn about the long run.

“C’mon, beautiful.” He’s pulling out the big guns now. Stroking your chin and calling you beautiful like that; all head in the clouds, full of love with his big brown eyes. “There’s soda crackers too, and when you feel up to it we can go get whatever you’d like for breakfast, yeah?”

“Spence,” but he only stays silent, looking at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky individually. “Can we get bagels? I want egg, ham and cheese in mine.”

Spencer rewards you with a dazzling smile and drops a kiss to your forehead. “We can get that and fresh ones for the week, angel.” He sets the tablet in your hand and opens the water, rubbing your hair out of your face as you swallow.

“What happened to beautiful?” Spencer laughs, reaching for the green tin of crackers.

“Here you go beautiful,” you preen, taking three crackers and nibbling slowly. “Proud of you, know it’s annoying to deal with.”

You nod, laying back down on your pillow when you finish the crackers.

“Think they’ll ever stop giving me nausea?” You ask Spencer, suddenly shifting positions so you can lay your head in his lap.

“They say it’s only supposed to last for the first three months, all statistics point to that being true. But bodies are all different, it’s not a one size fits all, maybe it won’t happen this month, maybe it’ll persist. Medicine is tricky when you add hormones into the mix.”

It isn’t as reassuring as you’d wanted to hear, but you know Spencer will help you through all the nausea and mood swings as long as he’s home.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hii!!

can i request a kinda angsty fix where the reader and jude got into a stupidish fight and jude knows he’s in the wrong and tries to apologize but the reader just wants some fresh air and when she goes out a man is like following her and being creepy and she has to call jude to come get her.

i think it’d be cute to end kinda fluffy with apologies and kisses to make up.

p.s luv your work<3

a/n: thank you so much for your request, I loved writing this. I hope you like it!

MIDNIGHT APOLOGIES

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language and the lack of originality in the title.

summary: After a petty fight with Jude, you step outside for some fresh air, despite his insistence that you don´t. Alone at night, you feel a stranger following you and you call your boyfriend in fear. When he arrives, your emotions run high, leading to heartfelt apologies and sweet moments together.

It was one of those nights that felt off from the very beginning. Jude had come home late from training, and you were already on edge after a rough day at work. The tension had been simmering for a while, and it didn’t take much for it to boil over. It started with something small—something so ridiculous, neither of you would even remember the cause by the next day. Maybe it was about him leaving his stuff everywhere or you being short with him. Either way, it turned into something bigger than it needed to be.

“Jude, it is not that difficult to pick up your stuff,” you’d said, your voice tight with frustration. “It’s like you’re always leaving it there for me to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He was also tired after training and your bad mood didn’t help. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he muttered. “I’ll get to it later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You always say you’ll ‘get to it,’ but you never do, Jude. I feel like I’m doing everything, and you’re just… I don’t know...”

He huffed, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “I’m tired, you know? Training is intense right now, and I just need some time to relax when I get home. Not your naggings.”

“And what about me? I’m tired too. I’ve had a horrible day, and you are not helping.” You hated how emotional your voice sounded, like you were right on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something serious, but you were exhausted—exhausted of feeling unheard.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know you're upset, but I’m doing my best—”

“No, Jude. You’re not,” you cut him off, the words sharper than you meant. “You’re not even trying.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken tension between you. Jude’s jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying to bite back whatever he wanted to say. He knew he was in the wrong—knew he had been neglecting your needs, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. At least, not yet.

After a few more moments of the suffocating quiet, you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I need some air," you muttered, grabbing your jacket from the chair and heading toward the door.

Jude straightened up from his position alarmed, his eyes following you. "This late? Babe, it's not safe out there right now."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, turning to look at him. "I just need to cool off for a few minutes, Jude. If I stay here I’ll probably end up saying something I’ll regret."

His concern flickered across his face, but he held his tongue. Normally, he would’ve insisted you stay—that you work it out right then and there. But he knew this situation was his fault and that you would take his advice as a rude order. He didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. So, with a tight nod, he let you go, though the tension in his body was evident.

“Fine,” he muttered quietly, biting his tongue. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You didn’t respond, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. As soon as you were outside, the weight on your chest lightened slightly. The cool breeze was a relief against your heated skin, and you walked with no particular direction in mind, just wanting to clear your head.

But as you wandered further away from your apartment, that feeling of relief slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else—a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart speeding up when you noticed a man a few steps behind you. His pace matched yours, and even though he wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, there was something unsettling about his presence. You quickened your steps, trying to shake him off, but he did the same, closing the distance slightly.

You turned right onto a street, expecting the man to continue straight ahead. However, your heart began to race in your chest when the man not only imitated you, but also quickened his pace.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively moved to your phone in your pocket. You fumbled with it for a second before dialing Jude’s number from memory, your fingers shaking.

He picked up after the first ring, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Jude," you whispered quietly, your voice trembling. "There's… there's a guy. I think he's following me."

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear Jude moving, probably grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell me where are you." His voice was sharp now, all traces of your earlier fight gone. You quickly rattled off the nearest street signs, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued walking rapidly.

"Stay on the phone with me," he said firmly. "I'm coming to get you. Don't look back—just keep walking towards the main road. I'll be there in five minutes."

You did as he said, your feet moving faster as you tried to reach a more populated area, but it was difficult due to these hours. Your heart was racing, but hearing Jude’s voice kept you grounded. You kept walking, glancing around nervously, but soon enough, you spotted him, his face set in a mixture of anger and concern. The man behind you seemed to realize what was happening and quickly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone.

Jude reached you in moments, pulling you into his arms without a word. You could feel how tense he was, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you close and tight.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You nodded, your face buried in his chest as you answered him. "Yeah… I just got scared."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself. I knew it wasn’t safe, but I didn’t want to argue more. That was on me."

You shook your head, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "No, no. It’s not your fault. I just needed some space, but I shouldn’t have gone out so late."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his eyes softened, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Still, I should’ve been more understanding earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything, and I haven’t been thinking about how much I’ve been taking your actions for granted. I’m really sorry."

You sighed, the frustration melting away at the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I just want you to be here with me, Jude. I don’t need you to be careful about everything, just… a bit more understanding."

He nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I will. I promise. I’m so sorry, baby."

His kisses came quicker after that, small and tender — one on your nose, another on your cheek, then the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you, especially when he placed another light peck on your forehead.

"Jude," you muttered, but you were smiling now.

"What?" he grinned, pressing one more kiss to your lips. "I’m making it up to you."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. "I think you're forgiven," you teased.

His smile widened as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go out at night alone again. Now I’m your bodyguard.”

Of course, you didn’t protest.

[goldenstring6123]

This happen to my bestie last week ajsjsjsjsns

She came to school all moody instead of cheery and vibrant and it's not normal to see her like that– I asked what happened, at first she doesn't speaks and just shook her head. Like, 20 minutes later, she suddenly cried. I was there next to her and comfort her, (I literally get all concerned and panicked)

During break, I asked again why she is like that and she told me that her mom told her to die out of frustration (Like– girl, wth) it is all because her little sister overslept and make her late for school. And her mother also late for works.

So, can I ask how LaDS men comfort their partner when they're feeling down? 🥺🥺

Thanks ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

Lnds: Comfort for a crying heart

Warning: Comfort. GN!Reader

Author's note: I'm sorry to hear that about your bestie, no person should ever be told that especially by their mother. I'm sending my hugs to you, your bestie and everyone who's having a hard time! You have my full love and support!

Zayne: The Patient Comforter

Zayne never sensed the shift in your personality that day. He knew there was something different with you, but he didn't think much of it, considering it was morning time. When he got home after work, he found it odd that his house was very silent. It was as if it had gone back to the days when you hadn't moved in yet. He entered your shared bedroom and found you sleeping, but it was odd, too, because the room was too dark and the air was too dry.

He changed his clothes and tucked himself into bed, but unlike his usual routine, he wrapped his hand around your waist and buried his nose in your hair. You were running hot, and simply by that alone, he knew you had been crying. He hugged you while you sobbed quietly and tried to catch your breath.

"It will be alright, honey," he would whisper to you and rub your arms. When you rolled over to him, you immediately buried your face in his chest. There was nothing to say to him at all; it was just one of those bad days when all the bad things chose to be at the forefront of your mind. Zayne stroked your hair and pulled you in closer to his chest, not minding the snot and tear marks you were making on his gray shirt.

When you let go of him and scooted back a little, he went to the kitchen and brewed you tea. He came back and handed it to you while waiting to see if you wanted to tell him how you felt. You looked so tired in his eyes, so he was very, very patient with you. You both talked to each other for a good hour or two, and Zayne listened intently, asking you how you felt.

He wiped your tears for you and lent you his shoulder when you spoke. His hand held onto yours, and his thumb brushed the back of your palm while you cried again.

Rafayel: The Comforting Joker

Rafayel is more perceptive than you thought. The moment you stepped into his house, he could see that you were in a bad mood. He stared at you, and the first thing he asked was, "Why the long face?" which was pretty odd considering that you were smiling.

You thought you were holding it in so well, but when he asked that question, everything seemed to slowly topple down in an instant. You found a way to distract yourself in his home, but Rafayel was having none of it. He looked so serious about it, and not a single hint of teasing escaped his mouth.

His frown made you frown as well. You decided to give in and tell him what was wrong, how you felt heavy when you woke up in the morning, and how things seemed to go wrong the moment you got out of bed. The moment a single tear fell down your cheek, Rafayel pulled you into a tight, long hug. He said a lot of stuff to try and cheer you up, and he did his best to make you laugh even if it made him look stupid; he didn't mind doing it for you.

Along the way, he talked about how he'd rate bomb that rude store and punch that post you walked into, and as stupid as that sounded, you managed to let out a stupid laugh. When Rafayel saw that, he was more than glad to see you slowly getting back on your feet.

Throughout the whole day, he gave in to your whims, doing things that you liked and eating the food you wanted to eat at that moment. He acted all cutesy for you because he knew you liked that about him the most, but he didn't joke with you in return. Instead, he acted all romantic and such.

Xavier: The Silent Comforter

Xavier could sense that something was off. Everything was in its place, and you were acting practically the same as every day, but he couldn't help but be instinctively close to you as if the energy he was sensing was oozing out of your body. He was quiet beside you, tending to his own entertainment, but the moment he heard a sniff, all his suspicions were confirmed.

Xavier kept his lips shut and reached an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He didn't say a word to you. You continued to sniffle and hiccup while watching the movie, but both of you knew you weren't actually paying attention to the show.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Xavier would pat your arm or your thigh to comfort you, placing a kiss every now and then. He listened intently to your rants and your concerns, nodding and asking the right questions. It was his strategy to get you to relax and let it all out naturally. Albeit he'd have a hard time trying to understand you through your sobbing, all he knew was that you needed him at that moment.

It didn't take long for you to calm down and doze off to sleep, feeling the emotional exhaustion weigh you down more than you'd like to admit. You always fell asleep on his lap because he would always comb through your hair while you spoke.

A few hours later, you would wake up next to Xavier on the bed, and on the night table was some convenience store food that he bought.

Sylus: The Kissing Comforter

Sylus didn't know you were having a bad day, even if you were going on and on about that small little thing that made you feel so infuriated. Although he was listening very, very intently, offering you some practical advice and partially suggesting that he could deal with it for you, it wasn't until you headed to the restroom that Luke and Kieran sneaked into his office after hearing the entire thing.

Sylus was confused when the twins told him that you were crying on the way to the bathroom. At that moment, Luke and Kieran thought that their boss was too…insensitive. Sylus knew the look on their faces.

When you headed back to his office after half an hour, Sylus was waiting for you by the door. He pulled you into his grasp and brushed his thumb under your puffy eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, and you burst out crying ugly like you did in the bathroom. He frowned when you told him that you were just having a bad day, but Sylus could see right through you.

Your efforts in brushing your own misery aside were futile at best.

He picked you up and carried you to the couch, and he patted your back like a baby. You went on and on again about how you felt so bad and why everything was going in the wrong direction, and this time, Sylus was quiet, shushing you and telling you, "Don't cry; everything will be better tomorrow." When you had nothing left to say, Sylus slowly began to distract you by giving you kisses in between cries, touching you, and petting you until you couldn't think of anything else for a few minutes. He nibbled on your ear and whispered sweet nothings alongside comforting words.

Author footnotes: I'm more than sure that their way of comforting the reader/you would vary depending on how you particularly act when you're having a bad day so I decided to go generic and not specify anything... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[literaila]

Triple dog dare you to write a snuggle session for atf after Gojo has a terrible day (pls I saw you were looking for ideas but no pressure 💗💗)

“are you frowning?”

satoru, who has been laying face down in bed right next to you for the last seven minutes, does not move.

you’re almost concerned that he died with his nose stuffed in the pillow but he says “no,” and then exhales aggressively into the sheets.

so at least he’s alive, if very dramatic. what else is new?

“are you lying?”

“no.”

“are you sure?”

“no.”

you refrain an eye roll and set down your book.

twenty minutes ago satoru had walked into the living room—where tsumiki was explaining something about knitting to you (of which you understood about 12% of)—and said “come to bed,” with a very serious look on his face.

twenty minutes ago satoru also turned right around and walked away, not bothering to elaborate in the slightest.

so you’d huffed at your daughter, kissed her cheek and told her to go to bed soon, and proceeded to do as your clingy, needy, not very communicative husband asked.

maybe you should’ve thought about it a bit longer.

to be fair, satoru just asked you to follow him to bed—he never said anything about tending to him. so you’d ignored his crossed arms as he sat there and changed into your pajamas.

you brushed your teeth and put on lotion and acted like his petulant look and the mood he was oozing all over the duvet was insignificant to you.

you’d even picked up your book, pretending to read as he flopped down next to you.

and then you waited.

but maybe you should’ve just asked. because now you have to deal with the satoru who refuses to turn over and look at you. the same one who is going to lie for at least another two minutes.

marriage is difficult.

satoru turns his face, cheek smushed and lips pursed. “how’d you know?”

“you sighed like… twenty times.”

“no i didn’t.”

and then you push at his shoulder, trying to move him yourself. but satoru is heavy and stubborn and he barely budges an inch.

really, you should’ve just stayed with tsumiki.

“this is sad,” he mumbles, after a minute of your struggling, a plane of hormones and bad attitudes.

“you need to lay off on the mochi,” you tell him, pulling at his hair.

“body shaming is rude.”

“so is ignoring your wife.”

finally he pushes up off of the bed with his arms. but instead of turning to face you, or saying “i need a hug,” or whispering that he’s tired or doing anything normal—satoru just turns away from you, huffing once again.

he’s now facing the wall, arms crossed. “you’re one to talk,” he mumbles, entirely immature.

the child inside of you is jumping for joy. you have loved irritating him since you were a teenager—and this is really no different.

but satoru is already upset, already difficult, and you’re going to fix it even if he doesn’t want you to.

so you refrain a grin because that would be cruel. you wait a moment—maybe for him to say something, even though you know he won’t. “satoru?”

“what?”

“you okay?”

“oh, so now you care?”

“what? i was waiting for you to say something.”

“you ignored me,” he’s whining and making sure that you can feel his indignation.

he gets in these moods sometimes, where everything he says is in an effort to prove you wrong. to win, even though there’s never any real fight he wants to put up.

it’s kind of endearing. and also very annoying.

still, you laugh. “was i supposed to run you a bath? go wake up megumi and ask him how your day was and then come back to tend to you?”

“you’re supposed to cuddle me,” he’s pouting, saying it so soft so he doesn’t have to admit defeat. you know from a decade of being in love with him.

but, almost despite yourself, you smile, staring at his back.

at least he’s relaxed a little—even if he’s irritated, or frustrated, or just exhausted.

you know that if you just kiss his neck a little and play with his hair he’ll preen like a cat and fall asleep in three minutes.

and maybe it’s just a little bit fun to mess with him—maybe you’ve taken a page out of his book.

who can blame you, anyway?

“satoru,” you say again, and push one of your legs under his. he barely moves, stiffening up where your hands meet his shoulders. “c’mon, i’ll let you be the little spoon,” you whisper, trying to duck down to meet his eyes.

satoru glances up. “really?”

you kiss his cheek. “only if you stop pouting.”

so he goes limp and you push your leg between his, bending until he’s molded into you, hands tucking under his arms, lips just against the nape of his neck.

satoru squirms a little bit—just until he’s completely covered by you, no inch of skin left behind.

and you’re pressed up against him, arms holding him to you.

“good?” you ask him, against the shell of his ear.

he just huffs, but he doesn’t move, barely breathes—and he’s not pouting.

one more minute and you’ll have him grinning again.

you wait a moment, allowing satoru’s fingers to find the sleeve of your shirt, hands fidgeting as he thinks.

“do you want to talk about it?” you ask him.

“no.”

you hum. “are you sure?”

“stop trying to trick me,” he says, pinching at your wrist.

you just shake his hand off, returning after a moment to intertwine your fingers with his. “don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“do you?”

he tilts his neck until your nose is pressed against him, nodding. “that’s what i always do. and you’re doing it wrong.”

“it always makes me feel better. is it working?”

“you can’t beat me.”

you peck at his skin. “i think it’s working.”

satoru just grunts, too tired and maybe too annoyed to say anything else.

but it’s working.

you’ve always worked with him like this—the two of you too similar to back down from each other, too familiar to not what the other is thinking, to not feel it.

“hey,” you whisper, when he doesn’t say anything else.

“hmm?”

“i love you.”

satoru turns a bit, so it’s more like you’re holding him, so you can wrap your arms around his torso and keep him even closer. you allow it, pretend it’s not happening—just for his sake.

but he’s warm, even if he’s sad—and he always smells nice, always feels the same.

his moments are stilted, though, as he relaxes. satoru has always been similar to a toddler—he gets cranky when he’s tired.

maybe you should’ve warmed him up some milk too.

“you better,” he finally tells you, like a threat but softer.

“do you want me to tell you a bed time story?”

and satoru is turning his head so you can’t see his lips, but he almost laughs, eyes beginning to blur.

“just stay there,” he whispers, not a request.

and you do.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Dads, Dads, and more Dads

I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...

"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"

A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.

"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.

"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.

A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.

Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.

"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.

"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"

Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.

That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.

"Have a good day, buddy!"

Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?

I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...

"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"

The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.

"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.

"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"

I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."

Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.

"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"

I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!

"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."

Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?

"No. Just give me some cash."

Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.

"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.

Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!

"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"

"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.

"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"

"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...

"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"

The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.

Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.

"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.

"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"

I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."

The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."

I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.

"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.

For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.

"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.

"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"

"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.

"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"

"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.

"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."

I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.

If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!

"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.

He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.

Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?

He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.

"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."

I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...

"Excuse me, sir!"

"Sorry!" I shout.

In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.

"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.

"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.

"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."

He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.

"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"

The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.

I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!

"You have a car?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"You want to drive me around?"

"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.

The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.

"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."

The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.

The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.

"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."

"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"

I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...

"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"

My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.

"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"

"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.

"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"

I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"

"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.

Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.

"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"

"Well," he pauses, "Sure."

"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"

"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"

I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.

"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."

My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."

"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."

"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.

"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"

"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.

"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."

Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...

"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"

Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.

"The grass looks great, dad."

"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."

Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.

"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.

"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."

"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."

"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."

"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"

"You could bend over the couch..."

Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.

"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."

For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.

"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."

Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.

Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.

I think I will enjoy myself.

Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos

[dollfacefantasy]

daddy kink with chris and you’re overstimulated and crying and he kisses your hair and tells you it’s okay… like, he acts like he’s helping but also doesn’t slow down at all… he started going harder once he saw you crying…

pairing: chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, overstimulation, dacryphilia

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ermmmm this is pure smut but school has me too tired to do a full fic and i wanted to make a picture so yeah hehe. thank you for this ask, it's right up my alley. i hope you like :) as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

Today was a bad day for Chris. Or at least it had been until he got home and found you, laying in bed without a care in the world. He tried to be normal about it at first, he really did. He nodded a hello as he walked through the bedroom and settled the dust from his day. He went through the motions, breathing deeper to try and chill out. But as he looked at you, the more the urge built within him to get rid of some of that tension, pump it all deep inside of you. He couldn’t help it. He was just so overwhelmed, and he needed his little stress reliever to help him out.

He climbs on the bed and slots himself next to you. His lips find your neck immediately. You can feel the raw need in his movements. A giggle bubbles from your lips as part of his facial hair scratches against your neck. Poor baby, clueless as to what was in store for you. Your ear meets your shoulder to give him some more room on your throat, and he doesn’t let it go to waste. Nipping at your skin, tongue laving over the small love bites he litters you with. You moan and shift slightly as the tingling from your neck drips down your spine to the pit of your belly.

“Chris…” you whimper. 

He doesn’t remove his mouth from you though. Amateur mistake. He was obviously in a mood. Your eyes flutter as his large hand squeezes your waist.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself.

A sharp breath fans across your neck as he briefly disconnects. “What is it, baby? Feeling needy too?” he asks before kissing your throat a bit more.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, sinking down on the bed more.

He chuckles against your throat, one of his hands pulling on your thigh to spread your legs. His fingers only tease your inner thigh for now. They don’t coast across the part of you that aches for him.

“So easy, precious,” he breathes before scooting down.

He positions himself between your legs and tugs your shorts down quickly. After they’re discarded, he presses his lips to the skin the pads of his fingers had just been smoothing over. His breath hitches at the soft, plush warmth of your flesh. You bite your lip and merely watch him close in. He can feel your gaze, and it only serves to make his semi-hard cock even stiffer.

Looping his arms over your thighs, he pulls you even closer. Your head squishes on a couple pillows as he buries his face between your legs against your clothed cunt. He inhales so deep that it’s audible. So is the groan he lets out after. You feel his lips against the fabric of your panties before he licks the cloth too. The pleasure was dulled by the barrier, but it still got you going seeing how needy he was.

He drags his nose against the garment to take in more of your scent before using his mouth again on your covered pussy. More arousal collected beneath as you watched him go at it. With a small impatient wriggle of your hips, you whine in anticipation.

“Just a second, honey. Wanna enjoy this,” he grumbles. 

It honestly felt like he was trying to suffocate himself between your thighs. That’s even more true once he finally yanks your panties off. He’s right back to what he was doing, smothering himself with you. Your head falls back as he laps at your folds, grunting at the taste of your slick on your tongue. He sucks on your clit while flicking his tongue against it, making your arms flail while you cry out for him.

Your heels dig into his back while you whimper and writhe. He holds you in place and devours you. You can still hear those sharp breaths coming from him, each one is calculated since he seems insistent on not coming up for air.

This wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Chris was always a pretty dedicated lover for you. He never teased too much, but usually he would mumble a few things here and there. Not now though. It seemed he was lost in a haze of lust, eating you out for his own reasons rather than your pleasure.

You’re sure of this when you reach your first high. You shriek and jerk, legs trembling and only secured by his strong arms. Gasping, your fingers claw at the blankets on the bed. Despite all this though, he doesn’t stop when you should be coming down.

“Daddy,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t even verbalize that it’s too much. A string of whines leaves you instead, and your words come out jumbled. Your legs pointlessly kick as he continues licking up your cunt.

“It’s ok, dolly. Daddy just needs some more time with this pretty pussy,” he grunts, “It’s gonna feel good, ok?”

You whimper again as you nod, barely stuttering out an “ok” before he dives back in. He makes out with it, taking in all of you that he can. Flattening his tongue and dragging it over your sore clit, he sends shocks through your body. You feel like static on a broken tv, vibrating as he works you closer to the edge again.

The sheets twist and crumple underneath you from the way he has you squirming and shifting around. Your legs go taut as you crash through release for a second time. It doesn’t take as long since you were so sensitive from having just cum. You squeak this time, quieter than the last. Your limbs shudder with more intensity though, and your eyes roll back.

And he still keeps going. You move your legs more this time, to which he responds by tightening his grip. Breathy whines continuously tumble from your lips. Your mind is melting down into a puddle. You can’t find the words to protest this time, so you don’t. That’s fine with him. He continues on, chin completely coated with your slick at this point.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to restrain the pathetic noises coming from you. The way he went all in, you’d think you were the best thing he ever tasted. He’s not even rocking his hips into the mattress. All his focus is on you, the way he maneuvers his mouth on you. It’s not long until you’re cumming for the third time.

He’s still not showing any signs of letting up, so you will yourself to intervene.

“Chris!” you yelp without thinking, your hips bucking in time with your plea.

“Who?” he growls without looking up.

“Daddy… I can’t,” you whine, correcting yourself for the second time tonight.

“Oh, I know you can, sweetheart,” he says before a lewd noise sounds through the room as he latches back onto your clit.

You nearly shout at the sensation, shaking your head wildly. Your voice is growing more whiny, and your head is sinking into that state where everything is soft and syrupy, like a waking world of dreams.

“Mm-mm, I- I need a break. It- mmph- it’s too much,” you whimper and squirm around harder.

He digs his fingers in, set on keeping you where you are. He actually does take a break to look up at you. His eyes connect with your own.

“Does it feel bad, princess?” he asks.

You stumble through your thoughts to try to think of how to articulate yourself. “No…” you say slowly, “It…”

During your pause, he interjects. “So it feels good, yeah?” he asks. He’s condescending for sure, just the way you like him to be.

“Well yeah. But it’s too much,” you say, lip puffing out into an automatic pout.

He chuckles and shakes his head, lowering himself to press a few tender kisses to your pulsing bundle of nerves. “Just one for me, baby. Daddy just wants to play with his favorite girl after a long day,” he says before his tongue returns to your folds.

Your head falls back again as your mind spins with the heat swirling inside you. One more. You could take one more. But if it was anymore than that, you were pretty sure you’d go numb.

You were already going a little dumb. Whiny, squirmy, no thoughts inside your head except for what was happening in the moment. Your body was moving on instinct, you didn’t have much control at this point.

He does give you the tiniest break as he fucks his tongue into you rather than attacking your clit. It’s still stoking the flames of sensitivity, but the pleasure is much more muted. But as soon as you think to be relieved about this, his mouth is all over you, and that burning sense of overstimulation is back.

Your thighs lock around his head. You would be concerned about cutting off his air flow, but it seemed like that was his goal anyways. Your shirt was clinging to your form, highlighting how your breasts heaved and puffed up and down with each gasp.

It feels like a never ending fuse, but finally, you hit that “one more” he wanted. You gush all over his face yet again. Ecstasy stabs through you. A long moan erupts from you before devolving into a collection of unintelligible mumbles.

He chuckles into you and gives a couple more licks before he actually pulls off. You had started to wonder if he ever actually would.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Such a sweet baby, always doing what daddy asks.”

You lazily nod, dumb little smile gracing your features. He pets your head, a few soft strokes before getting up to undress himself. You’re too out of it to really pay much attention to that though.

Your little break is over just as quick as it began. He climbs on top of you again, peppering your face and neck with kisses.

“Wanna see these pretty tits bounce while I’m inside,” he murmurs as he peels your shirt off of you. He moves your limbs like a doll’s to rid you of your top. You’re limp, pliable, simply moving where he guides you.

Once you’re fully nude beneath him, he lines himself up. Swiping his tip through your soaked center, he doesn’t waste much time teasing. He slides in groaning as he sinks into your heat, savoring each inch of your wet embrace.

“She’s been missing her daddy,” he mutters, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You give another weak nod as a response. He starts rocking, slow at first, easing into a rhythm. You’re so tender though, it doesn’t feel as slow. You whimper with each of his movements. Every poke within you feels like another jab to your already overwhelmed center.

You call out for him, using it as a reprieve from the overwhelming sensations. His cock is heavy and thick just like every other part of him. You can feel that simply from the way it stretches you out and pulsates between your walls.

Soon enough he finds a pace he likes. It’s quick, but he’s not jack-hammering. He’s stroking you deep for sure, head of his cock kissing your cervix and prodding against all your other spots that send jolts of pleasure through your body. 

You were so shaky, trying your best to cling onto Chris for some sense of stability. Your arms loop around his neck, legs weakly attached to his hips. The air around you feels heavy as if it’s pressing you further into the mattress, aiding him in keeping you trapped beneath his large form.You can’t contain the array of sounds flowing from you. Your mind is too fucked out and hazy to worry about self-restraint.

“Good girl, baby. Keep making all those cute little noises. Let me hear how much you need it,” he mumbles into your ear between pants. Some sloppy kisses land on your temple before he seems to start working his hips even harder than before.

You’re taut like a rubber band about to snap, thrumming with the slightest touch. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to cope with the all consuming pleasure inside you. It’s like you can barely breathe. All you have right now is Chris. Nothing else is registering.

You’re babbling, trying to show some of how you’re feeling, but it’s all unintelligible. He can really only make out “daddy” and a few “I love yous.” Everything else is as muddled as the thoughts in your head.

He does understand when you choke out “daddy need to cum.” And like the good guy he is, he indulges you. He speed up more, slamming his hips against you with brutal force. The headboard is beating against the wall, and your body rocks in time from the momentum.

Continuing to kiss and suck on your throat, he chuckles. “Already came… what? Four times? And you still want more. You’re getting so spoiled, princess,” he teases.

You can’t really think of a defense in this state. Instead, you weakly shake your head and whimper “‘m not spoiled.”

He laughs louder and thrusts harder. “I’ll have to be careful with you. Can’t have you turning into a total brat on me,” he says.

Before you can protest this slander, he thrusts extra hard and knocks you over the edge. You practically scream. Your body locks up, and you convulse involuntarily. Tears build up in your eyes. When you open them, they’re glossy. Droplets already threaten to spill over the waterline.

He’s still slamming his cock in and out. You’re stretched thin. You feel like you’re gonna pass out at this point. The euphoria must be constricting your lungs or something. You start crying. Not just little teardrops rolling down your cheeks. No. Actual cries begin bursting from you, and it isn’t long before they morph into sobs. Tears do flow, your eyes and cheeks feel perpetually wet. A single blink unleashes more every time.

And once he hears that first cry, all teasing is gone from Chris’s demeanor. Though, it’s not replaced by concern. Sure, he feels a twinge of sympathy scratching at his heart, but it’s not the dominant emotion running through him.

Your crying just… does something to him. Something primal he can’t control. Something primitive he forgets exists until he has you beneath him like this. Those round cheeks streaked with tears, face twisted up in desperation, glossy eyes looking at him with complete reverence. It takes everything not to blow his load right when he sees it. It’s above him the way his hips instinctively go harder. He was basically jack-hammering now like his intention was to ruin you.

But you’re still his baby. He kisses your cheek, tasting the faintest hint of salt as your tears meet his lips. His hand that’s not supporting him, strokes your neck.

“It’s ok, baby bear. Daddy’s right here,” he coos as if he isn’t the one bringing you to tears.

You gasp and whimper. The words “I know” barely make it from your lips, but they reach his ears. His own body is getting stiff as his release bubbles up within him. He grits his teeth and keeps thrusting, grunting at how tight you’re clamped around him, walls massaging his shaft with each stroke.

“So pretty when you cry, sweet girl. Such a sensitive baby,” he whispers into your hair, “My baby bear. Just a little more.”

You’re just hanging on, nodding along to what he says as your tears flow. You’re not chasing release. Even though you feel like you’re locked into a high right now, you don’t feel like you could cum again. You think you’d rupture something if you did.

Chris, on the other hand, knows it’s right around the corner. His jaw clenches as his eyes droop. His hand tightens into a fist in your hair, tugging a little on the locks. His breathing becomes harsher, his body is coated with sweat as he keeps working to that peak.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. You’ve been so good. I’m so proud of you,” he coos between kisses to your head.

Again, your head bobs in a weak nod. You’re limp on the bed when his body locks up and he buries himself as deep inside your cunt as he can go. He moans with his release. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as the pleasure washes over him. He exhales deeply before collapsing on top of you. He’s smothering you, and normally, you’d complain, but you’re not really in the mood right now.

Your bodies are molded together. You can’t even really tell where he ends and you begin. You’re both catching your breaths. For you, you’re regaining awareness of everything that isn’t the man on top of you.

You just lay like that for a while until finally, he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re not left alone though because he pulls you into his lap, cradling you against his chest like a plush toy. He’s looking down at you with all the love in the world. His thumb swipes across your cheeks to wipe away all the remaining tears.

“You ok?” he whispers and kisses your face a few times.

“Mhm,” you hum, sinking further into his embrace.

“Good,” he says while beginning to rub your back, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He knows this is what you need right now. In a few minutes, he’ll get you up, put you in the bath, make you a drink. But right now, he knows you just want him to hold you like the precious thing you are.

[delicatestones]

Various Parahuman Teen Couples Go To The Mall

Brian and Taylor: Going to the mall is a normal thing neither of them enjoy, which is precisely why they convince themselves that they should do it. Brian musters up hope that he will be able to carry Taylor's bags and wait for her on benches outside of clothes stores, which will affirm his value as a man. Taylor, who only wants to buy a single hoodie, anxiously refuses to let Brian carry her bag because she doesn't want to be a burden, which banishes Brian to the Masculine Insecurity Pocket Dimension in his own mind. They attempt to rally by going to the food court, where they try to have an awkward 'normal' conversation over greasy pizza slices.

Fortunately, a supervillain they have history with attacks the mall mid-pizza, and they rush off to change in the mall bathrooms and return to thoroughly beat the interloper's ass. Brian apologizes for the mall date going wrong (secretly relieved, also deeply compelled by watching Taylor break a guy's arm with a baton) while Taylor says it's no big deal (even more relieved, mesmerized by Brian's visible sweat on the back of his neck). They may or may not awkwardly touch hands at the fire exit before they flee the scene of the crime.

Krouse and Noelle (Pre-Simurgh): On a quest for limited edition Ransack merch at the Gamestop, which turns out to be all sold out or on reserve. Krouse tries to social engineer it out of the clerk anyway, but Noelle gets so visibly uncomfortable he desists. In the depths of excruciating failure he says something shitty about the guy's haircut after they leave the store and Noelle tells him he's being a dick, which he apologizes excessively for in a way that just makes it more awkward.

In a now desperate effort to turn things around, Krouse tries to lighten the mood by latching onto listing Alternative Mall Activities including one of those photo booth set ups. He makes fun of how cliche they are and how it would be completely lame if they went into one, which transitions into cajoling Noelle to join him in this extremely cringe activity for the bit. She says her hair looks dumb and she doesn't want to, so he gallantly offers her his over-sized hoodie so she can hide her face the entire time, a gesture he does not realize extends the shelf life of their relationship for a solid two weeks. His visible joy when she agrees to the idea adds another week to the tail end of that. They hold hands on the way to the parking lot.

His copy of their photos becomes an instantly precious memento he sticks on the wall above his bed; Noelle puts hers in her picture shoebox in her closet. He spends all night on E-bay overbidding for the merch.

Krouse and Noelle (Post-Simurgh): Twelve Injured One Dead In 'Food Court Nightmare'.

Dean and Victoria: It takes Victoria half an hour to get ready for a mall trip. Dean shows up too early to pick her up and engages Carol Dallon in small talk for twenty minutes, a time span in which Carol manages to list every single one of Victoria's deepest insecurities in the form of barely veiled criticism while Dean smiles like he's being held at gunpoint.

At the mall they get stopped outside the Gap by a gaggle of Glory Girl preteen fans. Dean holds Victoria's bags (many) while she goes through the New Wave Fan Experience Checklist. Victoria says something afterwards to him on the way to the next store that hints at the Dallon Torment Nexus. Dean continues smiling and offers the mildest possible effort at sympathy, which Victoria reacts to with virulent irritation, so he gives up and buys her a mall outlet jewelry store diamond tennis bracelet instead. Thus mollified, she proceeds to allow him to obtain Jamba Juice for the both of them. It's another normal (bad) day in Brockton Bay.

Aisha and Alec: There strictly to cause problems for the sake of causing problems. Alec 'distracts' the staff at Hot Topic by faking a fall into a rack of studded belts and loudly insisting he will sue them for emotional and psychic damages while Aisha shoplifts bracelets. They buy hot pretzels and perch on the edge of the mall fountain marked 'NO LOITERING' to conspicuously loiter while occasionally kicking each other in the ankle. When a security guard tries to get them to move they collaborate on roasting his bloodline back to medieval times, triggering rent-a-cop wrath and a threat to call the Real Cops.

Now officially Wronged By The System, they decamp to breaking into the mall's back corridors (going through an unlocked access door) to vandalize the security office while throwing gummy worms at each other's mouths and missing 70% of the time. In high spirits, they make their cunning exit (leaving through the same door) and sneak into a horror movie at the mall theater halfway through its run time. They heckle the on-screen slasher victims for being idiots until an usher shows up with the original security guard, and then book it for the outside world while laughing like small and charming hyenas.

They agree they should totally rob the mall for real later, preferably while Brian and Taylor are on their make-up mall date, because they are good and kind teammates who only want the best for them.

(This post inspired by the learned discourses of Wormblr character understanders, particularly users lakesbian and simurghed. Any mischaracterizations and errors are my own. These hypotheticals are a non-representative sample of Ways They Could Be At The Mall.)

[qpidkitea]

ENDUREMENT

FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER

PRÉCIS: Second part of Tranquility, where Farleigh talks about himself and his family. Hoping that you wouldn't judge and come with him to America to visit his mother.

WARNING: Angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of Oliver, kisses, happy ending. The reader is kind of an anchor for the family right now.

A/N: Big big biggg thanks to @darkeyesshine for the ideas for this fic. Thank you again!!

No one knew about your 'relationship' with Farleigh. You weren't even sure yourself you two were officially together, but you cared for him, likewise he cared for you. The two of you spent many nights at Saltburn sneaking into each other's rooms for nothing more than the comfort company and some shared kisses- not on the lips just yet, silently grateful that you two uncoincidentally chose rooms down the hall from each other. You don't even think that fucking freak. Oliver knew, and he knew everything.

You and Farleigh lie beneath the duvet in his room, your head resting on his naked chest, your arm laying across his stomach as he smokes a cigarette, being careful to blow the smoke in the air, attempting not to cause severe damage to your lungs, even though you're definitely sure you have already been exposed to secondhand smoke just from being near the Cattons. For the past two weeks, you have been staying in Farleigh's room during the night, but you made sure that in the day, you'd invite the Cattons to come and do the things they used to when Felix was here. It was fun while it lasted. Now Farleigh was planning to go back home to America permanently. Venetia was still severely depressed, but it wasn't like you could ask her to stop. You didn't know how Elspeth and James were feeling. They hid their emotions through careless eyes, moving on with the same normality as before.

You look up at Farleigh, who was just finishing his cigarette. You watch as he throws it out of the open window before he looks down at you with concern behind his eyes.

"What?" Staring wasn't the word to explain what you were doing, you were admiring. His beautiful brown skin was glistening in the scorching sun, and you swore you could almost mistake him for a Greek God. His brown curls settled perfectly around his face, he was perfect to you. Everything about him was perfect. You just hoped he may feel the same about you.

"Nothing. Just looking at you." Farleigh lets out a laugh, smiling so hard his cheeks expand, but that only made him look cuter. You sit up from laying on his chest, and move to sit Criss Cross on the end of his bed facing him. Farleigh sits up next, and you can't help but laugh when he turns to the side to stretch, seeing the back of his hair flattened.

"Oh, shut up! I'm fixing it." You're still laughing, and you swear you could almost pass out from laughter. Using one slender arm, Farleigh fluffs the hair at the back of his head. Your laughter dies down and you take a deep breath. Smiling again at him.

"Farleigh, is there anything on your mind before you depart for America next week?" You feel bad bringing this up when just a moment before you were laughing with him, but you didn’t want him leaving in a horrible mood. Farleigh runs a hand up and down his chest, nodding his head a bit. He moves to stretch his legs over you, socked feet laying in your lap. You scrunch your face up before pushing his feet to the side of you. Farleigh takes in a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"I have to get the fuck away from here. I can't stand it. They make me feel like an imbecile- not Venetia." You nod your head at his clarification, now understanding that he was talking about James and Elspeth. You knew James was funding Farleigh's mom- his own sister  - back in America, but you didn't know that Farleigh was receiving the backlash from his mother's actions. Unfortunately, you also know that Farleigh's mother was disowned from the family. You don't know why, but you know her name is completely off the will, and most likely they would withdraw from paying for college.

"He claims he doesn't care about my "Bloody American Feelings-" What the fuck does he even mean?" Farleigh looks at you with wide eyes, emphasizing his point. Farleigh was a very handsy talker, moving his arms around to explain his point. You stay silent, letting him get his rant off. You weren't related to the Cattons- just a friend of Farleigh's, Venetia's, and Felix's, who the Cattons let stay. This was your 3rd year staying in Saltburn.

"This place is too- much for me right now. I miss my mom, I miss my house, I never even wanted to really go to Oxford, I only went because Felix wanted me to- I don't fit in anywhere. A queer, needy person of color in the middle of England? Fucking England!" You pout slightly at his outburst, not liking him calling himself needy.

"You're not needy, Farleigh. Don't believe what Sir James says about you. He's a complete and utter fool. You can't expect someone who's been rich their whole life to understand anything from the perspective of someone who hasn't had everything handed to them." You look into his eyes as you say this, making sure he understands exactly what you are trying to say.

"Thank you. I know, I just- you're a problem for me. I want to get away from here, but I can't just leave you here. jus' can't let you go back home and forget about me, can I?" Farleigh grows this smug smirk on his face, taunting you almost.

"Oh, shut up! I'd be fine without you." At this, Farleigh quirks an eyebrow, his smirk dropping before he comes to his knees on the bed, crawling over to you over the expanse of the bed before leaning on top of you, his shadow blocking out any light.

"Live? Without me? Impossible. You need me. Who's gonna make you laugh in the late hours of the night, hm?" Farleigh tilts his head at the end of his question, his curls moving along with him. There's nothing but teasing behind his voice but it still makes you nervous none the less, playing your bashfulness off, you push him, making him fall backwards because of his unstable position.

"Okay! I'll miss you, I must admit, but as long as you just call me, we'll be fine" You cross your arms as Farleigh sits back upright, crossing his legs now, his long limbs folding across each other. It's weird, because he's quiet. He's looking down, facial expression blank, a bit of uncertainty in his movements, fiddling with the box of cigarettes in his lap.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"What?"

"Do you... want to come with me? To America." Fairleigh knew you lived alone, your very wealthy parents died a month before you went off to college, and you inherited all of their wealth. It would last you at least another 10 years, and by that time, you would already have a job, living on your own. This is part of the reason you had no problem going to Saltburn for the last three years. You had no family waiting for you to come home for the holidays.

"Are you sure you would want me to come?"

"I wouldn't be able to live my life with just a phone call every week." Farleigh looks up with a smile, his hair bouncing, looking as beautiful as ever.

"Okay. How long do you want me to stay?" Farleigh has surprise written all over his face, he never expected you to agree so quickly, to want you to come to such a place with him, where you know you won't have the finest things, or a great big house to live in.

"We'll come back before school starts again and go back in for all the breaks. I'll be able to finish college. They paid in full for tuition already." He smirks and pulls out a cigarette from the small cardboard box, putting it between his ring and middle finger, but not lighting it just yet.

"What about when school ends?" Would you stay in England? Or would you find a home in America to be with Farleigh, or possibly find a home together? You brush your thoughts off as wishful and look up from your lap at Farleigh with your head tilted, awaiting an answer.

"Oh, I'm hoping that you'll stay with me in America? Pretty, pretty, pretty pleaseeeee." You laugh, knowing of the incoming dramatics about to come from Farleigh, and if on cue, he flops backwards on the bed, shaking his head about in a show of a tantrum. Swinging his arms behind his head, somehow throwing his cigarette across the cold wooden floors and huffing loudly. He rolls off the bed, landing on his feet before he comes to the side of the bed. You turn your body to him, and he's on his knees, his hands grabbing your own before he pleads dramatically.

"I'll do anything! Just come with me and stay. You'll love the fatty American cheeseburgers, I swear!" It's surprising how long Farleigh can hold up a good act, not once breaking his role to laugh or even cringe at himself.

"Anything, huh?" You lean forward and smile. Fairleigh's blonde and brown curls touch your forehead.

"Anything." It wasn't you who made the first move, but Farleigh. As he inches himself to your face, you lean in also, but it felt as if you weren't the one controlling your body. Your forehead tickles, and you want nothing but to back away and rub at your forehead to get rid of that itchy feeling, but your body won't let you. Slowly you two inched closer together until your lips finally touched, Farleigh sighs softly, like he was waiting for this moment, and you can't help but melt into the kiss.

To you- to the both of you, this confirms everything. Small stares at each other across the dining room table, the lingering touches at the bar, the matching costumes you two would often wear to parties. You couldn't believe it took this long for you to even just kiss, even after nights of sleeping in the same bed. Farleigh is the first one to pull back, and you can clearly see, etched on his face, is nothing but adornment.

"I can't believe I let myself wait three fucking years for that. Should've done it way sooner." You two bust out into laughter at his words, knowing that a new beginning would start for the both of you.

Farleigh ushers you to knock on the front door, but you slap his hand away from the small of your back, insisting on ringing the doorbell, the house was medium-sized, but it was a breath of fresh air for you, you grew sick of high ceilings and Renaissance walls. You could hear his mother's steps get louder as she approached the door. Heels- she was wearing heels. The doorknob twists in your view before the door opens towards Farleigh's mother. She wore a beautiful black pantsuit with red lipstick and red heels to match. She might've not been filthy rich, but she dressed like she was, even if it was inexpensive or not a designer brand. A white smile comes upon her face as she looks at you, and then at her son.

“Oh! You must be Y/N. Nice to meet you darling” You almost forgot she was English. Her accent was not as strong as yours, but you could tell her upbringing.

“nice to meet you Ms.-" You smile back at her, reaching out to shaker her hand, but she ignores it, instead pulling you in for a tight hug.

“please, call me Frederica, come in, come in, quite cold outside” She steps aside from the doorway, allowing you and Farleigh to enter. She winks at Farleigh, motioning her head towards you as he passes. Extending her two thumbs out at him. But you don't see that. She then pulls her son into a warm, tight embrace, kissing his cheek, some of her red lipstick transferring onto his face. Your heart warms as she tells Farleigh how much she missed him, and it nearly melts away as he responds, telling her the same thing.

She turns to you now, who's still standing in the middle of the living room. The woman motions her hand for you to sit on the couch, and you do. She smiles and sits next to you, and Farleigh almost screams in horror as he too comes to sit on the couch, only to notice the blue picture book sitting on the coffee table, undoubtedly filled with his most embarrassing baby photos. The woman next to you crosses her legs before turning to you and smiling.

“Farleigh is quite fond of you, talks about you all the time over the telephone." Farleigh turns away, pretending not to hear his mother as he looks at the white curtains hanging from the window. Tapping his foot on the carpeted floor. You smile and laugh slightly, imagining him ranting about you to his mother, who's never even met you.

"Really?" Your tone is teasing. Even if he wasn't looking your way, he could definitely hear you.

"Oh absolutely, almost every day, and now I know why. You're stunning. Now, let me show you some of his baby pictures." Farleigh whips his head over to look at his mother with wide eyes, his hair swinging wildly.

"Mother, no!"

[coralinnii]

❋Keeping your scrunchie for you❋

Who would keep your scrunchie for you, and would even do your hair feat: Ace ⭑ Sebek ⭑ Azul ⭑ Jack genre: fluff, humor note: reader has hair that uses scrunchies, reader has hair for long hair hairstyles, established relationships, no pronouns used,

I know it's been a while but I have been meaning to write. I just have what I'm calling Silver Syndrome where I fall asleep at any given moment and lose track of time ^_^' whoops

This is sorta self-indulgent since I’m also guilty of always forgetting my hair ties at my friend’s place and when I need one, they would come to me with their arm filled with them xD. Since then, we would always have spares on each other in case any of us need them. 

Getting him to keep it

At first he was gonna tease you. What? Do you feel the need to lay claim on him that you want to leave something of yours on him for all to see? You know there’s more than a hair tie you can leave on him- 

Oh, you’re just forgetful and you want to have a spare on him if you need one? You guys are practically attached to the hip so there’s logic to it, to you anyway. 

He's so gonna fight you on it. It’s one thing to ask him to keep spare some small hair ties on him, heck if you let him use them on occasion he wouldn’t mind at all. But it was those poofy, colorful scrunchies that he can’t even hide underneath his jacket sleeve. 

But he loses this fight with you (he always does when it comes to you) and ends up with a cutesy hair tie that contrasts heavily against his black school jacket. He had to fight the embarrassed flush every time he got teased, especially by his upperclassmen like Cater and Floyd. 

Don’t let his loud complaining fool you, though. Despite all the teases, he still keeps your scrunchie out in the open when he could have easily stuffed it in his pocket. He secretly likes fidgeting with it during class, partly since it’s really soft and partly that it reminds him of you. He thinks a lot about how pretty you look when you have your hair up. 

Would he tie your hair?

Yes, but he wasn't great at it. At first, he can do a simple ponytail but that’s all he really knows about hairstyles. I mean, he only ever ties his bangs back so he’s not the most creative in the hair department. 

Have some patience with him as he sometimes messes up and gets your hair tangled. He’s a fast learner so he’ll get the hang of it. 

Once he’s used to it, he’ll start experimenting with your hair by giving you goofy hairdos like a unicorn horn on your head. He once tried to make round cartoon-like “ears” with your hair for giggles. But he always offers to brush your hair back to normal each and every time. 

Actually, Ace likes to mess with your hair a lot more often now because this gives him a chance to brush your hair. He enjoys the intimacy of the activity, like you two are in your own little world with no one to disturb you. He can spend hours just running his fingers through your hair while you chat about anything and everything. 

“Hey, stop moving around so much! Don’t go complaining to me if this new hairdo turns out bad”

Getting him to keep it

Definitely gonna fight you on this. He argued that you should be responsible enough to remember to keep spares on you at all times. It’s your own fault for being so forgetful about your own things. Plus, it goes against his dress code and he can’t bear to ruin Malleus’ reputation just because his loyal knight has a bright puffy scrunchie on his wrist.

You decided it’s fine if he can’t do it but it did bum you out a bit. Imagining the serious Sebek with your bright scrunchie on his wrist would be the cutest thing to see but you didn’t want to push it if it caused this much arguing. 

But Sebek noticed your declining mood and started to have conflicted thoughts because of it. Would it really make you that happy to see him with that tacky thing on his arm? 

The next day, Sebek came up to you and wordlessly raised his arm towards you. Confused, you asked the green-haired freshman what’s wrong. 

“...I shall allow it” 

“What?”

Apparently, Sebek couldn’t get your sad face out of his head all day yesterday, ruining his mood and causing him to stress out with worry. Lost as to what to do, he did what he tends to do in these situations, and asked Lilia for advice. The older fae chuckled at poor Sebek and assured him that a trivial piece of fabric would hardly ruin Malleus’ image so he is free to decide what he wants to do. 

And Sebek wants to make you happy. 

“Give me your cursed scrunchie, human”

Would he tie your hair?

Again, he’s going to fight you on this. He claims he has better things to do but really he’s just terrible with styling hair and was scared if you didn’t like his work. Unless you want your hair gelled up like his, he doesn’t know what else he can really do with hair in general. 

Still, you encouraged him to try and with you boosting his courage, he started trying simple hairstyles like braids and ponytails. He was a little clumsy but always up to improve himself. He soon became more confident and would even offer to tie your hair up during P.E classes or club activities. 

He especially likes trying out hairstyles that are trendy with his fae kind, like braiding flowers into your hair. The people of Briar Valley are more traditional with their appearance and more extravagant hairstyles are typically reserved for special occasions like parties…or weddings. 

The way Sebek’s cheeks burned when he couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful your hair might look for your wedding…with him as your husband-to-be. Your hair would be absolutely ethereal no matter the style, considering that it’s you-what was he thinking?! 

Best not to bring up his bright face or he’ll start yelling out of sheer embarrassment. 

“...Well, is this to your liking? It is?...I see… What?! I was not worried, don’t be absurd!” 

Getting him to keep it

For the right price, sure. 

I’m joking (kinda) but honestly Azul wouldn’t mind it since it wasn’t that big of a request. I firmly believe that he has more than enough pockets with his dorm uniform. 

Anyone who would even try to tease him about it would just be asking for humiliation as Azul would respond swiftly with some backhanded comments. 

“Embarrassing, you say? Well, I suppose having a lover that relies on me so would seem tiresome to some people. However, I'm afraid I'm just so smitten with my adorable lover who just trust me so. Sighhh, woe is me” 

This octoman would play the “no b*tches?” card. Such poor, unfortunate souls

But one day you needed a hair tie and you asked Azul if he still had your spare. The merman then pulled out a scrunchie you didn't recognize from his pocket

“Azul Ashengrotto…whose scrunchie is this?!” 

Before you start to panic, Azul quickly explained that he came across this scrunchie at a store in the town near the campus. 

“I thought this would look good on you, so I bought it in hopes it suits your taste” 

Even though Azul tried to sound casual, there was a cute flush coloring his cheeks that he was trying to hide behind his gloved hand. He knew you had enough hair ties and you could always buy more yourself. But, he just couldn't stop himself.

That scrunchie was now your new favorite accessory.

Would he tie your hair?

Contrary to the previous boys, Azul has a better sense of style due to his entrepreneurial nature and his dedicated interest to keep up with the most marketable trends. 

I also believe that since Azul is a mommy’s boy, he paid close attention to his mother’s hair styling routine. However, he realizes that it won’t exactly be the same considering you both are not in the ocean and he himself is adjusting to life with dry hair. 

But he won’t be stopped by his inexperience. He would research the best hairstyles for your hair type and what would amplify your natural features. Every chance to do your hair was a chance to improve his skills. Get real comfortable because you’ll be his guinea pig for hours. At least you’ll be a beautiful guinea pig by the end of it. 

At first Azul had some insecurities about keeping you for so long, surely you would be bored being with him for so long and having him practice with your hair, especially when you wouldn't really gain much from it other than a mess on your head most of the time. 

Please reassure him that you love these intimate moments with him and you trust him wholeheartedly with your hair. 

“I’ve heard stories that speak of mermaids that used to lure humans with their beautiful hair. I thought it foolish to be so easily charmed…but seeing yours, I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

Getting him to keep it

Grumbled about it at first but will keep it for you. Any exasperation was mostly just you asking him because of your tendency to forget them than anything else. Despite his grumpy look, Jack wasn’t going to fight you on something as trivial as holding some hair ties for you. Would question you what’s so great about scrunchies, though (they’re adorable, ok?!)

All he asked was that it’s a scrunchie that doesn’t get in the way of his daily routine, and if you could pick one that would be a bit water resistant or dark in color since he’s worried that he would get it dirty during his work-out routine or spelldrive practice at Savanaclaw. 

He honestly doesn’t understand why anyone would make fun of him for holding a scrunchie for you. He's whipped because you trust him with your stuff? This man just can’t relate to loser behavior. 

Even if he's not a fan of scrunchies, he’s still incredibly careful with your hair tie, making sure that it’s either tucked safely under his sleeve or mindful to avoid accidentally snagging the fabric on something. 

If he just recently got the scrunchie from you, he can still smell the scent of your shampoo on it as it starts mixing with his own scent. Don’t tell him but some of his dormmates can see his tail slightly wagging when he glimpses down to his wrist every now and again where your hair tie is.

Would he tie your hair?

He’ll fight more on this. You guys are in an academy, you should be able to tie your own hair. Don’t be lazy, he stated. 

But watch him later try to excuse his actions when he suddenly pulls your hair back with your scrunchie during lunch, just so your hair doesn’t get in your face as you ate. You honestly forgot he still had your scrunchie and Jack was getting frustrated watching your hair constantly falling forward every time you tried to reach your food. 

Since Jack has younger siblings, he has some experience with tying someone’s hair despite having fairly short hair himself. It’s nothing too fancy but he’s pretty good with some basic hairstyles

He’s really gentle with your hair, occasionally pausing to gauge your expression to ensure you’re not in pain. Sometimes you have to be careful or you might just fall asleep with how Jack’s large hands softly handle your hair like it was silk.

“This should keep your hair out of your face. Huh, how do you look? Don’t ask stupid questions…you already know you always look good…No, forget I said anything!”

[just-zy]

My Miss President (II)

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: Jenna was never the type to fall for someone like Y/N, someone who'd always end up in fights, someone you'd often see doing stupid things outside the school premises, someone who always look so arrogant but is an absolute sweetheart. Jenna wasn't into those, considering she's what the school calls 'Ms. President' aka, Miss Perfect. She'd never, right?

A/N: I got the part 2!! yeahh!! (still third pov!)

Warnings!: fluffy..

part 1 || Masterlist

Rummaging your hair as you get on your well neated bed, nestling your face on the smooth fabric of your pillow, sighing tiredly.

You weren't really expecting Jenna to be in school the next day. You'd hope she felt the same way you did, or that kiss on the cheek she'd done to you was sincerely a platonic appreciation for getting her home and defending her. Tonight, you really wished it wasn't, but if it were the other way around, you didn't really mind.

But, no matter how hard you deny it, you didn't want your relationship to be just platonic, honestly, you wanted more, you've liked her ever since freshman year. And now, you're both in your Juniors, nothing's changed.

It was all the same cycle really, you go and start havoc while she cleans your mess, you hadn't thought about it that way until now.

You groaned as you sat up from your futon, it didn't look as messy as it would normally look, you couldn't sleep, you hadn't really bee moving much, so you decided to head in the living room and watch some television.

1:47

As you set your gaze on the clock, you let out a tired sigh. You should've been asleep 4 hours ago.

The television wasn't helping either, if anything it was making your head throb, with each passing romance every now and then.

"It just had to be romance."

You turned the tv off and tossed the remote on the couch cushion, heading back to your room.

2:32

Sleep was finally kicking in, staring right at the window did help, the glistening glass helped ease your nerves, you didn't know how, but it did.

★

Making your way to school late because you knew Jenna wasn't going, was setting you in a bad mood. Jordan stopped you in the hallway to talk, apologizing to you, when in all honesty it made your blood boil, you snapped at him, reprimanding him that he'd basically apologized to the wrong person, because the only rightful person he should be apologizing to is Jenna.

You sneered at him and gave him the finger before leaving him by the lockers, with his 'two goons' by his side.

Leaving was the only right decision on your list, while everything else consisted of violence and payback.

First period was shit, so was the second period, also free period, then the fourth and so on..

You really just wanted to get back home and pay Jenna a visit.

After the bell rang, you bolted out of your seat with your bag halfway closed, but you couldn't care less, you were freaking out, you didn't know what to say, you didn't know what to do, what were you supposed to say? What's the right thing to say!

You got a glimpse of her front yard, the sight almost making you slip from the roads curb, maybe then you'd both match fractured ankles.

Knocking on the door lightly, waiting for someone to answer the door.

You hadn't really expected Jenna to open the door, after all, she just had her ankle broken. But, there she was, honestly with every second passing by, the prettier she gets.

"Hey Y/N, uh- what're your doing here?" Jenna lightheartedly chuckled, she didn't expect visitors.

"I– uh came to check up on you.. How's your foot? I mean- ankle– uhm!- Same thing.." You weren't always awkward around Jenna, if anything you always had your head up, but this time felt different, you felt giddy all over and really flustered. She laughed, only because you were acting goofy, which was new. "My ankle's fine, I'm fine. I'll be back in school in a day or two, it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Why's my palm sweating, why's it suddenly so hot, why's she looking at me like that? Is something wrong with my face—

"Y/N, seriously, are you good? You've been acting weird since you've got here.."

Fuck it.

"I like you, Jenna. Like– like you."

Jenna didn't know what to say, does she say she likes you too? Or say something else? Or do something!..

Love is something scary, she knew that, both of them did, but it'd all be worth it with the person you felt like home with, you both did feel that way towards eachother. If anything, Jenna wants you to hold her till she falls asleep.

She got up earlier today, thinking about you, about how you carefully set her down last night, how you held her with care, and last night with the kiss she gave you?

She missed.

So, she let her eyes roam around your face, to your now creased brows, your lightly scrunched up nose, to your eyes that held such dread, then she gazed on the skin her lips made contact with.

"Sorry– I missed last night."

She said, as her hand caress your cheek.

"What—?"

Before you even had to question, she already had her lips connected with yours.

She didn't miss this time.

______+______

A/N: tagging for those who wanted a pt2!!

Taglist: @jusnough @pikachooo3

[mustainegf]

Hi! So I was having thoughts and was thinking about Older James with a younger girlfriend. So pretty much, it’s that time of the month for her and she wasn’t used to her boyfriends caring much or taking care of her so she never really mentioned it to James and kept quite about it. James always knew about it and was sweet with her but never pushed to much with it when he saw that she seemed to handle it ok for herself until one month it’s a lot worse than normal and no matter how hard she tries to hide it and just starts taking care of her completely no matter how much she argued it. Running her a bath, rubbing her tummy, holding her, just fluff in general.

Having feels right now and need some fluff with older James🥹

I love this sweet old man so much

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐒 ²⁰²³

The first time it clicked that James knew about my cycle, it was a second where you catch someone out of the corner of your eye and they're just looking at you with that half grin, like they're in on some big secret. I'd been digging through my purse, trying to find a tampon discreetly while we were out at dinner. James didn't say anything, just continued talking to me about the tour they'd just finished up with in that aged, endearing voice.

I remembered how my breath glued to my throat the instant his hand slid across the table to cover mine. "Baby, it's okay," he'd smiled, almost too casually. I'd blinked at him, my hand stuck mid search. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze while his thumb brushed against the back of my hand with a nod.

I nodded back, mostly because I didn't know what else to do. My exes never discussed this stuff. They didn't even notice, or if they did, they pretended they didn't. I was used to dealing with this stuff on my own. I'd learned to be discreet about it, to cope with the cramps, mood swings all without making a fuss.

James was different, though.

He never pushed it, never made a big deal out of it, but somehow, he was always there. A heating pad would appear in bed, or he'd send me a text asking if I needed anything from the store, throwing in a stupid little winking emoji that always made me giggle at how much of a sweet old man he was. And it worked for us. I mean, I didn't want him to see me as weak or needy.

My period hit like a punch, a blow that felt unrecoverable. From the instant I woke up, I knew it was going to be a bad day. These cramps were sharper, aching, tugging and eating at my lower back. My head was pounding, and even the thought of food made my stomach churn.

I decided to try and soldier through it like I always did, not wanting to burden James with my misery, but every movement seemed to make it worse. By mid morning, maybe 10AM, I was curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow to my abdomen wondering if maybe the devil would let me sell my soul to get rid of these horrid periods.

I didn't even hear James come in. One minute, I was alone in the living room, the next his shadow draped over me. I opened my eyes enough to see him there, his aged face was sunken with worry for me, his white eyebrows quirked in curiosity.

"You look sick, baby," he cooed softly, kneeling beside the couch. His hand came up to brush the hair out of my face and then warmly kiss my forehead.

"I'm fine," I lied, my voice the weakest it's ever sounded. "Just tired."

"Yeah? And how long have you been lying here?"

I shrugged, not exactly wanting to answer. "Awhile.. It's just…you know, that time."

His face switched from worry to empathy, and he nodded like he understood, which of course he did. I should have known better than to think I could hide this from him of all people. But instead of leaving it at that like he usually did, he pressed his lips together in that way that meant he was deep in thought, "Why don't you let me take care of you today, sweet thing?"

I wanted to debate him, to tell him I didn't need taking care of, to tell him I could handle it myself. But before the words could leave my lips, he was already easing the pillow out of my grasp and sliding his hands under me, and lifting me up into his arms. He didn't even sigh at the weight, it was that simple for him to just lift me.

"James—" I began, but he just shook his head.

"Shh... I got cha," he whispered, tucking me against his chest. James took me down the hall, my face cuddling into the tattoos on his flexing arms. I was too tired, too sore, to fight him on it. and deep down, I wanted this.

As we entered the bathroom, I could already hear him running the bath, steam rising from the tub and beckoning me in. He set me down on the edge of the tub and his hands stuck on my shoulders for a second whilst he crouched down in front of me. "Just relax, okay sweetheart? Let me take care of my girl."

Protests died on my lips as I looked into his soft blue eyes. There wasn't a shred of pity there, no frustration. Only love.

So I nodded, biting my lip to keep from tearing up. It wasn't that I was sad, not really. It was just… overwhelming in the best way, to have someone care this much. In a way nobody else had before.

James helped me undress, his touch so gentle. I felt incredibly embarrassed to take off my underwear and pad, but James was completely unfazed. I think he could see my discomfort as i stepped out of the undergarment, doing my best to keep my les clamped together. "it's okay, I'll deal with it. Don't be embarrassed." he whispered with a kiss to my forehead.

When I was finally in the tub, the hot water sucked out some of my uncomfort. James sat down on the floor beside the tub, one hand whisking lazily through the water. He would gently pull his hand from the water, thick fingertips dripping with warm water, before the back of his fingers found my shoulders, which weren't fully submerged. He trailed warm water over my skin, forcing a sigh from my lips

"Feel better?" he whispered.

I nodded, closing my eyes and leaning back against the cool porcelain. "Yeah... Thank you, Jamie..."

With James, it was different. Maybe because he was older, but he understood how to take care of me better than any man ever had.

After a short while, he stood up and reached onto the rack for a towel, and then slung it over his arm like some kind of butler, which brought me a small smile. "C'mon, let's get you dried off, love."

I let him help me out of the tub, my body heavier than it should have been. He wrapped the towel around me, carefully drying me, even between my legs, telling me not to think about the towel, ad that he'd wash it.

I looked to the counter and saw that he'd gotten my favorite pajama pants, and a shirt of his for me to wear, as well as a fresh pair of underwear with a new pad. Holy shit, he was a sweetheart. Any woman would swoon for this.

James carefully helped me into the clothes and brushed my wet hair before gently leading me to bed. Silently, James pulled back the covers on the bed and nudged me onto the mattress. He tucked the blankets around me and then climbed in alongside me, reeling me close to his chest. I could feel his heartbeat thump beneath my cheek.

I had no idea how much I'd really needed him until now.

"Why are you so good to me?" I mumbled into his chest, taking in a deep breath of his sweet and masculine smell.

He chuckled quietly, caressing his fingers on my cheek. "Because I love you, sweet thing."

I smiled, his words wrapping around my weak body like a super soft warm blanket. "I love you too."

He kissed the top of my head. "Get some rest, beautiful. I'm right here."

[sports-on-sundays]

hii can u write smth about hector and reader being best friends bc their parents are very close friends, and him realizing that he is down bad for her after having a small talk with his mother.

Please and thank u, love ur written btw 💝

mama's boy / Héctor Fort

Summary: Héctor x best friend!reader - Héctor being a stupid little adorable idiot in love.

Warnings: censored cuss

Requested?: Yes.

"Why don't you two go out on the front porch?" your mother suddenly brings up. Though, yes, you and Héctor are seventeen now, and should be able to sit through an adult conversation with your parents and stay respectful without being antsy, everyone knows that's not true.

But still. Being asked to go out on the front porch? That can never be a good sign.

"Why?" you demand. "The weather is so gross out."

"Because Mama told you to," your father pipes in sternly. "Now, go on. You can go with Héctor. We adults are allowed to have a conversation without your ears listening."

You're about to protest further, but then Héctor, sitting next to you, gives you a little nudge. "Oh, come on. You're so disrespectful to your parents. Just come on out with me."

You frown but stand up dramatically, following him outside.

The truth is, it's embarrassing having to sit alone with a boy like Héctor.

Not because he's creepy, or not nice. No, it's because he is nice. He's nicer than every other boy you know, and you never know how to react to him.

You plop down on the porch swing with him. He starts using his long legs to swing the two of you back and forth, and you tuck your (shorter) legs up, sitting criss cross.

"It's beautiful and sunny out. What's gross about today?"

You pout a little. "So humid."

"Oh, come on, now. It's fine."

You cross your arms and stare out at the sunny view behind Héctor's house, and the bright colors make it easy to forget your grumpy mood as you ask with a soft giggle, looking to Héctor, "What do you think our parents are talking about?" When you look to Héctor, he immediately looks away from you.

But you caught the split second of his big brown eyes staring at you.

But he shrugs casually. "Probably just boring stuff."

"Do you think it could be about us?"

Héctor smiles, chuckling a bit at the question. "Maybe, but I'm not going to worry about it."

You shrug. You sure want to think about it, but since Héctor brushes it off so easily, you suppose you may as well do the same.

You sit together in silence, swinging back and forth.

And for you, this just feels like a normal, nice breezy day, sitting with a family friend.

But for Héctor, deep down inside, this feels like more.

He watches the way your eyes seem to glimmer in the sunlight. The way your hair gently tosses in the warm breeze. How the sunlight seems to light up your face. He wonders what you're thinking about as you look out. He looks at your smooth hands, sitting in your lap, and all at once, it hits him.

He blushes deep red, looking away.

She's gorgeous.

"Y/n-" he suddenly says, not knowing what to say, but knowing he has to say something.

"Yeah?" you look over casually.

"You, uh... You're... I think your- uh."

"Yeah?" you lean in expectantly.

"Your shoelace is untied. You should tie it. Don't want you to trip," he quickly comes up with.

You shrug and lean down, tying your shoe.

"Was there anything else?" you ask once you finish, looking at him again.

But then suddenly, before he can come up with some other awkward response, the screen door behind you opens, and Héctor's mama walks out. "Hey, you two," she smiles. "Héc, Y/n needs to go now with her parents. So say goodbye."

You grin, glancing to him and giving him a playful nudge. "Bye, Héc."

He rolls his eyes, but he feels his face flush. "Only my mama can call me that."

"If you say so. Héc," you say with a giggle as you stand up. You wave to him, thank his mother, and walk into the house to go to the front, where your parents will be waiting to go home.

Meanwhile, when Héctor's mother is about to go back into the house, he suddenly says, "Wait. Mama. Can... Can you sit down next to me? Just for a few minutes?"

She smiles a bit and sits down next to her son on the porch swing. "Of course." The two sit there silently for a few minutes, before Héctor's mother finally says, "So... You really like that girl, don't you?"

Héctor swallows. "I... I don't know. I guess... I guess she's just really pretty. And I've known her for so long."

His mother smiles, giving his shoulder a little pat, and teases, "Does my boy have a crush?"

Just at those words, his heart rate quickens. "Crush?! I don't know if it's a crush..."

"Sounds like it to me," she chuckles. "And it's looked like you've had one on her for quite a while now, but you're just too scared to admit it..."

"Mama..." Héctor sighs, putting his warm face in his hand.

"Yes?" she smiles.

He's quite for a few seconds, before muttering, "I think you're right..."

"About what?" she grins.

"That... Well, I don't know. I kind of... I love every single second I get to be with her. It's like I'm down bad for her. F*cking mad for this girl."

"Hey, young man," she chuckles. "Watch your tongue."

"Right," he rolls his eyes, but then comments, "But do you know what I mean? Like, what I'm saying?"

"Oh, Héctor," she chuckles. "Of course I do. Can't get her out of your mind, can you?"

Héctor seems to just flush even more at this. "I guess not..."

She smiles, patting her son's shoulder a bit as she stands up. "Well, even if you don't think so, I bet she likes you back."

"She doesn't act like it."

"Oh, come on, now. How d'you know? Girls are different than guys. She'd be a good girl for you. I mean, your mama approves of her," she adds with a chuckle.

"So, what are you saying?" Héctor asks slowly, looking up to meet his mother's eyes.

She smiles a bit as she opens the screen door to go inside. "I'm saying that you should think about asking her out on a date sometime."

And she goes back inside, leaving Héctor as a flustered mess of swarming thoughts, to think over that decision on his own.

"Hey, Y/n," Héctor says immediately when he sees you next, which is, this time, a visit at your family home, to have some dinner. It's like he's made a beeline toward you and now stands in front of you. "Dinner won't be ready right away, right?"

You shake your head slowly. "No, I reckon not. Why?"

"Could we... like, I don't know... Go to your room or something?"

You shrug and nod, leading him there. "Sure. I don't see why not." When you make it there, you sit down on the bed together. You lean back against your pillows, but Héctor sits there very stiffly. After a few seconds of silence, you say, "So... what's up?"

Suddenly he turns to you, takes your hand, and blurts, "Uh- Friday? Evening? Would you be free for me to take you out, for, like, dinner someplace?"

You stare back, eyebrows shooting up. You glance at your hands. "Like, on a date?"

Héctor feels the soft skin of your smaller hand. "Yeah... Right, like on a date."

"O- Oh... Yeah, sure... I guess so. Yeah, we can do that."

He seems to let out a long breath of relief as you ask, "Where to?"

"You choose?"

"Surprise me," you grin. "But not too fancy. Don't go overboard."

Then he mutters, "Maybe I'll just ask my mama what she thinks."

"What?" you ask with a chuckle.

"Nothing!" he blushes.

"I heard you!"

He glances away, shifting, but holds your hand tighter.

You grin and comment, "You like me a lot, don't you?"

He drags his hand over his face, clearly very embarrassed.

But even as you teasingly smile, your cheeks are heating up a bit, too. "You've always been so sweet with me... Now it makes sense. So, what, did your mama finally help you figure it out? That you like me, and I like you back?"

"You do?!" his head shoots up, his eyes shining like stars.

You grin and nod a little, but say, "You never answered my question, Héc."

He sighs, glancing away, but chuckles, "Maybe..."

You grin. "So, in other words, 'yes.'" You grin and suddenly lean in. You grin press your lips to his blazing warm red cheek and murmur close to his ear, "You've always been your mama's boy."

He just buries his face in his hands, an embarrassed, adorable, overwhelmed-with-emotions mess.

But honestly, maybe he's not so bad.

He might even be a little cute.