#book is the same he follows her around like a puppy and no one gets it

[himbo-buckley]

Colin: sorry for interrupting your proposal which everyone knows is happening right now cause your mother told everyone about this except not sorry cause Debling fucking sucks. An opinion I will now express so very loudly. i am tortured by thinking of you. I prefer sleep to being awake cause then I can dream. I can think of nothing but kissing you. Please don’t marry Debling or anyone else but me. If you leave now I will run after you (again).

The ton, Fife, Fife’s bestie, Colin‘s siblings, Lady Whistledown, Lady Featherington, Pen‘s sisters, Pen herself probably, actually literally everyone but Debling and his mother:

[inupibaldspot]

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[d1stalker]

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it. 

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look. 

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

[rafecameronssl4t]

dad!rafe request where in mabel has a phase where she's clingy to her mama instead of being usually clingy to rafe

Mama’s Girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Miss Mabes is what I call my puppy sometimes so I had to include Rafe saying it 🥲

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 860

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

The soft light of early morning filtered through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a golden glow over the space. You were barely awake, caught in that blissful haze between sleep and consciousness, when you felt a tiny hand patting your face. “Mama?”

You opened your eyes slowly, finding Mabel’s wide, curious blue eyes staring back at you. Her unruly bedhead made her look even more adorable. “Mama,” she repeated insistently, her voice a little louder this time. Rafe stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over and draped an arm over your waist, pulling you and Mabel closer.

“Miss Mabes, it’s too early for this,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. But Mabel wasn’t having it. “Mama!” she declared, wriggling her way into your arms and snuggling against your chest. You chuckled softly, running your fingers through her soft hair. “What’s up, baby?”

“Stay with Mama,” she murmured, her little arms wrapping around you tightly. It had been like this for the past week—Mabel clinging to you like a koala, refusing to let you out of her sight. Normally, she was Rafe’s shadow, following him around the house, insisting on helping him with everything from mowing the lawn to fixing her toys.

But now, she wanted nothing but her mama. Rafe, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open and gave Mabel a mock-offended look. “What happened to Daddy’s girl, huh? You ditching me?” Mabel buried her face in your chest, mumbling something unintelligible. “Oh, I see how it is,” Rafe teased, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re leaving me for Mama. After everything we’ve been through?”

You laughed, gently stroking Mabel’s back. “Don’t take it personally, Rafe. She’s just going through a phase.” “A phase where I’m chopped liver,” he muttered, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his faux-pout. Mabel peeked up at him then, her expression softening. “No, Daddy,” she said, reaching out a hand to pat his cheek. “I still love you.”

Rafe melted instantly, his signature grin spreading across his face. “That’s more like it,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But don’t forget, you were my girl first.” The rest of the day followed the same pattern. Mabel insisted on staying glued to your side, whether you were cooking breakfast, folding laundry, or simply sitting on the couch.

She held your hand tightly, looked up at you with those big blue eyes, and said, “Don’t go, Mama,” every time you tried to step away. By the time evening rolled around, you were feeling the weight of her newfound clinginess. Rafe, ever the doting husband and father, noticed your exhaustion and decided to step in.

“Alright, Mabel,” he announced, scooping her up as you cleaned up the remnants of dinner. “Daddy’s turn. Let Mama have a break.” “No!” Mabel protested, wriggling in his arms. “Mama stays!” Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Mama needs to rest, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go read your favourite book. I’ll even do the funny voices.”

Mabel hesitated, her little brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you,” you mouthed to Rafe as he carried her off to the living room. An hour later, you found them snuggled together on the couch, Mabel fast asleep against Rafe’s chest. He looked up as you approached, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“See? She can’t resist Daddy forever,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking her back. You sat down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re both pretty irresistible,” you admitted, your voice tinged with affection. Rafe kissed the top of your head, his voice low and warm. “You know, I don’t mind her being clingy with you. She gets it from me, after all.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with love for the two of them. As you sat there, the quiet hum of the evening surrounding you, you realised that no matter whose phase it was—Mama’s or Daddy’s girl—your little family was your greatest joy. And in that moment, with Mabel nestled against Rafe and his arm wrapped around you, everything felt perfect.

[trexiejan]

Friendly reminder that DC and Dickbabs writers are gaslighting you into thinking Dickbabs are childhood sweethearts that are always in love with each other since day 1.

Dickbabs is the most superficial manufactured by retcons ship.

Babs was deaged for this crap to work.

Here is Original Barbara Gordon working as a congresswoman in the Senate when Dick was just the little kid Robin.

She was much closer to Bruce and Clark's age than Dick's.

Barbara refers to Dick as a "kid" and "little brother.

Dick had a small puppy crush on her but it was seen as a precocious crush. It was controversial when they first kiss (to make Dick shut up) because it involved a grown ass woman kissing a teenager.

Dickbabs was hated the same way modern Brucebabs is hated today.

Even the writer of that book admitted he never intended for them to become a couple.

Babs was more into older guys.

- she was viewed as an equal love interest to Batman

- she went out on a date with Superman

- then got engaged to her coworker Jason Bard.

Dickbabs shippers always try to deny that Babs was deaged and her history was altered for dickbabs in an effort to defend their ship.

They say it's not true because according to them Babs has been deaged long before dickbabs became a couple.

Here's the thing though:

Babs has been deaged twice.

Just because she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 1st deaging doesn't change the fact that she was deaged to be the same age as him in her 2nd deaging which happened in dickbabs content.

The 1st time she was deaged was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, it was so Jim could be younger but they only decreased her age slightly because she's still written as older than Dick, here is a panel from Secret Origins #20 that was published in 1986 exactly 1 year after she was first deaged in Crisis on infinite earths (1985) she said Dick is too young for her and that batman is always the one on her mind. So Dickbabs during this time still couldn't work because they still have that age gap and Babs was still into Bruce.

The 2nd time she was deaged is in dickbabs comics and tv shows where she was finally made the same age as Dick so dickbabs can finally work as a romantic pairing.

Instead of being older, she's now written as a part of Dick's generation.

From a congresswoman to a young girl who went to highschool prom with Dick.

Even Tom Taylor had the two first meet when they were young little kids so he can also portray them as childhood sweethearts in his run.

Tom Taylor claims Barbara still has a law degree but isn't it sad how instead of using that degree to find an actual job, she wasted her time following Dick around like a dog in Bludhaven ?

She has no job of her own, no friends of her own, no hobbies of her own outside of Dick.

She's just Dick's clingy lovesick girlfriend who is a total standby for him in his solo books.

Dickbabs shippers who deny this and get mad at people who point this out are the people who don't care about Barbara Gordon as an individual.

They don't care that Barbara lost her PHD degree, lost her own career, lost her own agency, lost her history, lost her self identity for the sake of shipping.

Their only concern is defending dickbabs and making it look better.

Because if they truly like Barbara separately from Dick, all these valid anti-dickbabs criticisms wouldn't bother them.

What's even funnier is that they are the very same people who accuse Starfire of being reduced into Dick's love interest despite the fact that Starfire hasn't been in a relationship with Dick in the comics for 20+ years due to the fact that dickkory's history was ignored and erased in favor of dickbabs. NASTY HYPOCRITES.

At least Starfire wasn't deaged to fit Dick and you can never see Starfire following Dick around like a dog in his solo books 💀

[sturnsdarling]

'I get them too, sometimes'

y/n has an anxiety attack, and bff!matt calms her down the only way he can think of in the moment

vibe check: detailed anxiety attack, comforting!matt, anxious!reader, fluffy ending cute vibes all round

1.5k words

A/N: WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN anyways this is based on the iconic stydia scene where stiles has a panic attack and lydia kisses him. I was gonna do it where Matt had the anxiety attack but it felt icky so I swapped it round. as an anxious girlie this was weirdly comforting to write and PART TWO IS HERE

love and cigs, merc

The boys' house was vibrating with the thump of music from every corner. People were pouring in through the front door, all mingling in the living room as Chris' party playlist blared through the speakers. Almost everyone in the influencer space was there, and you felt like the odd one out.

The boys' had begged you to come, pulling the 'it wont be the same without you' card as they all glared at you with puppy eyes. They knew parties weren't really your thing but, it was a celebration for them hitting seven million on their youtube channel and, you knew you couldn't miss it. So after some begging and bribing with 'literally anything you want from that weird old book shop in downtown' you agreed to go.

You felt like you were wearing a sign that said, in big bold letters; 'I don't belong here' as you lent against the kitchen counter, nursing some liquid courage. Chris was on the sofa, his laughter booming over the music as he sat with Nate and some boys you didn't recognise. Nick was at the drink station, making cocktails with the girls, pretending to be a bartender as he tired, and failed, at bar flares, making everyone around him curl over with laughter, as usual. Matt was on the other side of the kitchen, talking to some people about whatever show he was obsessed with at the moment and peering over at you occasionally to make sure you were okay.

More and more people started to pile into the house, more people than you even thought they knew, and at the sight of tens of faces you didn't know, a tight feeling started to form in your chest. You knew you were okay, because you had the boys, but they were off mingling and doing their rounds and you didn't exactly want to follow them around like a lost puppy.

You put your drink down, walking over to the sink to fill a red cup with water, your hand shaking slightly as you brought the cup to your mouth. You took a gulp and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and reminding yourself that you were fine, and you were in the boys' house. You knew that they wouldn't invite anyone that they didn't trust in their home and just kept reminding yourself of that.

An already drunk and giggly girl barged into the kitchen, flayling about without a care in the world as she backed up into you, knocking your drink from your hand and nearly pushing you into the sink.

"oh, shit, m'so sorry babe" she said as you turned around slightly. She placed a soft hand on your shoulder and squeezed it, "oh my god you're so pretty what the fuck!" she squealed, "m'sorry for spilling your drink" she slurred, sauntering away as you forced a smile.

Despite the somewhat sweet interaction, something about it made your fingers go numb, your chest tightening at the feeling of your wet shirt clinging to your skin. The walls started to close in and you felt as if you could feel the world turning on its axis. Your breath felt like sand paper against your throat as you tried to steady your rapid heart rate and failed.

You pushed your way through the crowds of people and b-lined for Matt's room, your knees nearly buckling under you as you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

As if he could feel your energy change, Matt instinctively looked for you in the crowd, catching a glimpse of your frame as you ducked between people, near enough running to his room.

"I'll be right back" he said to the guy in front of him, placing his drink down and following you through the crowd, calling out your name as he did.

You fumbled at the door handle, pushing yourself inside Matts room as your vision began to blur. Your chest was heaving up and down with rapid breaths, every inhale felt nearly impossible and everything around you was pulsating, your vision turning to a fishbowl as you clawed at your chest.

"y/n/n" Matt entered the room, searching for you in the dim light.

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with tears as you pressed hard fingers into your sternum, Matts eyes widened at the sight of you and he shut the door, coming to you in an instant, gentle hands on your shoulders as he tried to keep them in one place.

"hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay" He repeated, knowing immediately what was happening.

"I can't - I can't breathe" you stuttered out, pleading eyes burning holes into his. Your knees buckled from under you, feeling like the world was shifting under your feet.

Matt followed you to the floor, hands still gripping your shoulders. "Its okay, breathe with me, okay?" He said, taking a long inhale and encouraging you to copy him, his eyes baring into yours.

You tried to mimic his movements, a shaky breath rattling through your nose. Matt breathed out, nodding as he did and you did the same, the feeling in your chest only worsening, it felt like someone had tied a belt round your shoulders, and was pulling it closed as tight as they could around your chest, watching with a smile as the breath left your lungs.

You clenched your eyes closed and shook your head, "s'not working, Matt, nothing is working" a small sob left you as you grew more and more frustrated.

His jaw clenched at the sight of your shaking frame, feeling utterly helpless as you clawed at your chest. He brought his hands to cup your cheeks, bringing your head up to look at him.

"Its okay, y/n, m'right here, I'm right here" he poured into you, not letting you break eye contact as he tried to breathe as slowly as possible.

His thumbs stroked soft touches against your cheek, his eyes racing around your face as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Your eyes flitted back and forth between his, searching for solace in his face, feeling like the walls were closing in around you. Matts eyes fell to your lips, and quickly met your eyes once more. Your brows furrowed in frustration, eyes running circles around his features as his lips parted slightly.

Before you could register what was happening, Matt pulled you into him, crashing his lips against yours in a soft yet strong kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling, Matts soft lips pressed against yours as he held you tight against his face. After a moment in the embrace, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, and you started to kiss him back, your arms limp by your sides.

In that moment, you felt as if nothing mattered. Your heart rate slowed and you took a calm, steady breath in through your nose. Matt pulled away from the kiss, hands still wrapped around your face as you took a long breath out through your parted mouth. Matts eyes fluttered open and he let his hands drop down to his knees. Your eyes met his, slow breaths engulfing your lungs.

"h - how did you do that?" you asked in a breathy tone

"I um - I saw somewhere that the best way to stop a panic attack is by holding your breath, so" he muttered, averting his gaze from yours.

"so, when you kissed me" you began to speak

"you held your breath" he looked back up at you, bringing his lips inside themselves, the taste of your lip balm dancing on his tongue.

You smiled, a final, relieved breath leaving your lips as you stared into him.

"thankyou" your gaze was soft and utterly grateful, doe eyes pouring into his as he shuffled where he sat.

"of course" he shrugged, looking down to the floor

You sat in silence for a moment, not a trace of awkwardness hung in the air.

"I get them too, sometimes" Matt said as he toyed with a piece of lint on the floor.

"you do?" you said, still looking at him

"mhm" he nodded, meeting your eye-line, slightly taken back by you already looking at him, "feels like the whole world is crumbling around you, shits' not fun"

"yeah" you chuckled, relaxing where you sat.

"d'you - do you wanna hang out in here for a bit? I can stay with you" Matt said, his eye contact wavering at the offer only to return to you once more.

"oh you don't - you don't have to do that, Matt, you'll miss your party" you shook your head.

"I don't really like parties anyway" he replied, "I'd honestly rather sit here with you on the floor all night" he chuckled, gesturing to the floor.

You smiled as a soft laugh left your nose, "okay" you said.

"yeah?" his head shot up to meet your gaze.

"yeah." you nodded

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[ultravi0lence14]

Primadonna Girl

dean winchester x fem!reader

1.1k | fluff

summary: you and dean couldn’t be anymore different. but that’s why he loves you so much.

*loosely based on the song Primadonna by Marina and the Diamonds

sam couldn’t help but smile anytime he saw you and dean together.

the two of you couldn’t have been anymore different. yet, you two somehow ended up in a relationship. a year and a half long relationship that is.

dean winchester had always been rough around the edges. even as a young boy, people would look at dean and know to not get in his way, to not get him angry or the outcome wouldn’t be pleasant. his wardrobe always consisted of leather jackets, flannels, and big boots. something some people would find intimidating.

that had followed him into his teen years, and most importantly, as an adult. growing up with a berating father who saw you as nothing but a soldier didn’t help, and dean was sometimes jealous of sam for how level headed he was.

the thing was, you couldn’t be anymore opposite. growing up, you were as bubbly as a shaked can of soda. always laughing, smile on your face 24/7, and a knack for anything feminine.

you were a girl after all, and you couldn’t help but love anything that had to do with lace or dangling bows from wherever you could place them.

the narrative that a girl being hyper feminine and — for lack of better words — girly in nature was dumb or didn’t amount to much always made you angry. a girl could do anything a man could do if she was wearing slouchy jeans and a flannel or platform shoes and a skirt. it wasn’t how you presented yourself, it was your integrity, and how hard your drive to help people was.

crossing paths with the winchester brothers was never on your bucket list. you had heard too many stories of how those boys started more than one apocalypse, how they had a way of ending up in hell every other month. with your knowledge, you didn’t want anything to do with that.

if it wasn’t for you running into them on a case, you would have never given them a second thought. but you’d realized how dedicated the two were, how kind and how they were all around sweet boys. so you stayed. bonding with sam over your love for books and how you were both severely lactose intolerant.

dean on the other hand, he was harder to crack than his giant of a brother. the first couple of months the man did nothing but berate you. finding any chance he could to make a jab in your direction. you honestly thought he hated your guts, only for sam to finally admit that this was how his brother acted when he really liked a girl.

that same night, you confronted him. spewing multitudes on how treating a girl like that just because you have feelings for her is something a middle schooler would do. what you were not expecting was for dean to wrap his arms around your waist and press his lips roughly to yours.

since then, you two have been inseparable. sam couldn’t help but snicker when he caught his brother carrying around your purse, or walking behind you like a lost puppy. dean was wrapped around your finger, and anyone with eyes and a brain could notice it.

sam most importantly didn’t hold back in telling dean how whipped he truly was. all the older winchester did was keep on going with a smile on his face. knowing he’d do anything to just be near you.

all of this lead you two to this very moment, a calm night in the bunker as you and dean sat in his so called ‘dean cave’. on the couch and watching some cheesy teen drama on the flat screen tv.

you were sat in dean’s lap, legs moved sideways over his as he played with the lace trimming on your black knee high tights. dean’s grey henley and dark, plaid pyjama pants were in no synchronization with your frilled, white skirt and your big, fleeced, dark pink sweater.

the two of you were sat in a serene silence, eyes averted to the tv while dean’s fingers travelled up your calf and your hands found purchase in the tuffs of his hair.

neither of you had noticed sam’s figure in the doorway until you heard startle of laughter. looking up, you both saw sam leaned on the door frame, shit eating grin forming on his face as he analyzed the scene playing out in front of him.

“wow,” he started, shaking his head and having a strand of hair fall in his eyes. “if someone told me you’d be all domestic like this five years ago dean i would’ve laughed in their face.”

all dean did was roll his eyes, pulling you impossibly closer and nuzzling his face in your neck. promptly ignoring his brothers annoying remarks while also being in close contact to you. what else could he possibly need at the moment?

you just laughed, shooing sam away and watching him turn around a giggle all the way to his room. when the younger winchester was out of sight, dean moved his head so he could plant multiple kisses all over your face.

a squeal tore through your lips as you jokingly attempted to push him away, only spurring dean to hold on tighter to your legs as his mouth placed two sloppy kisses on both of your cheeks.

somehow in the midst of loud laughter and entangled limbs, you had ended up on top of dean. legs straddling his waist as he moved his hands from the top of your stockings to hold on tightly to your waist.

your hair had created a curtain around his face, and all he could see at the moment was your radiating smile and gorgeous coloured eyes. with a slight tug at his lips, he moved his hands under your sweater to soothingly move his hands up and down your skin. “you are the best thing to ever happen to me, sweetheart.”

a smile broke out onto your face, pressing a quick kiss to dean’s forehead before lying down and cuddling up to his chest.

all the winchester could do was hold you tighter, relishing in the fact that he had you. you, the greatest thing to ever come to him. dean sometimes thought he didn’t deserve you, that you were too good for him in so many different ways. but when you let him hold you like this, kiss your face and see you in any way possible, he knew that pushing you away would be the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

“i love you, dean.” you murmured, eyes back on the tv as his deft fingers on your back was calming you down. if possible, dean’s smile got even bigger. moving down to put a soft kiss on your head as he whispered back, “i love you too, Y/N.”

[wonuuism]

puppy love - 심재윤

in which jake makes the most if his (expensive) visit to the vet.

tags: fluff, vet!reader, layla’s not overweight irl but for the sake of the plot let’s say she’s been eating a little too well;;

author’s note: idk i wrote this in like an hour bc of a sudden burst of motivation. no proofreading bc it’s 3am LOL. first fic woo!! enjoy!!!

—

jake’s worried. panicking, even.

layla’s laying down next to him in the back of the taxi, her eyes shifting around nervously. jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as anxiety courses through his veins. layla had slipped and fallen down the stairs while he was home and her sharp whining whenever she walked afterwards made him uneasy. so, he was quick to call up the nearest vet clinic and book the soonest appointment for a consultation.

he’s really, really worried though. layla’s never had any bad scares like this one, so he’s not sure what to expect. what if it’s worse than he thinks? what if they tell him layla’s broken a bone? what if layla has to go through surgery? oh god - jake thinks he might throw up.

he’s interrupted from his thoughts as the taxi driver stops the car and announces they’ve arrived. thanking the driver, jake exits the car and gulps nervously as he surveys the exterior of the clinic. it feels ominous.

a bell rings as he pushes open the door, and the girl at the front desk looks up from the computer screen. “welcome in! how may i help you?”

“uh… i have an appointment at 11:30. for layla.” jake responds.

“awesome, i see you in our calendar. please hold tight while i let the vet know you’re here.” she smiles kindly, but it does little to ease jake’s nerves. still, he manages a tight-lipped smile and curt nod in response.

—

jake watches as someone emerge from the back, looking at a clipboard in their hands. “layla?”

he stands up right away, prompting layla who had been laying by his feet to do the same. “yes, that’s us.”

you look up at the source of the voice and send him a pleasant smile. walking towards him, you reach out your hand and he shakes it, but not before quickly swiping his palm on his jeans. “nice to meet you. i’m dr. l/n, and i’ll be taking a look at layla today. how about we head inside so i can take a better look at her?”

jake nods earnestly and gently tugs on layla’s leash to have her follow him into the consultation room in the back. once inside, you ask if he could kindly place layla on the table - a request he readily complies to. you’re impressed at how little he struggled given the fact that layla is a fairly big dog. clearly, he was strong. and maybe kind of cute, too.

“so,” you begin, “what seems to be the issue?”

“she had a bit of a bad fall and she’s been limping and whining a lot since then… i’m worried she might’ve broken a bone or something like that?” jake explains as he runs his hand comfortingly through layla’s fur.

you nod as he speaks, reaching over to assess any damage. after checking her heartbeat with your stethoscope, you flex her hips, gently press on her legs, and check on her paws.

as you do so, layla’s continuously making noises of discontent. initially, you had believed that her right front leg was causing her discomfort since she’d barked sharply when you touched it. however, she’d done the same thing for every other limb you’d touched as well. smiling, you turn your attention to her owner.

“i don’t see anything wrong with layla. her legs are fine, i’d say the shock of the fall is probably what made her respond like that. us people tend to coddle our pets a lot when they get injured, and dogs especially like that attention so they exaggerate it to make it seem worse than it is.”

jake is dumbfounded. “so you’re saying layla was just being dramatic?”

you smile apologetically. “yes… i know it’s not the news you were expecting, but that’s a good thing! means she’s not injured.”

you’re right, jake supposes. but that means i brought her all the way here because she’s a drama queen?!

you note the way jake sighs heavily, and it makes you want to try and console him by making his trip to the clinic seem somewhat worthwhile with basic medical advice.

“however, i would recommend putting her on a bit of a diet. she seems to be just a little bit over the ideal weight, and that can cause unnecessary strain on her joints.” you explain and jake nods, hanging on to every word coming out of your mouth. “after all, we want layla to live a long and healthy life, don’t we?” you coo, reaching out to ruffle her neck.

jake smiles. cute.

wait, what?

he takes this chance to finally look at you. he’d been too occupied previously with worry that he hadn’t been able to actually register what you looked like. now, he can see that you are, in fact, cute. you look around his age, and he’s impressed that you’re a vet this young. you suit the scrubs, but he wonders what you’d wear outside of work.

you pull away from layla and jake snaps back to reality. he’s glad layla’s okay. still, he sternly faces her and points his index finger toward her snout. “alright missy, you’re going on a diet starting today. consider it punishment for scaring me like that.”

chuckling, you turn to face him and he mirrors your action. there’s not much left to say, so he thanks you quickly and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. you stay since you have to log layla’s information in your computer. as you’re wrapping up, you add one more thing in layla’s “additional information” section.

additional information: super cute, looks exactly like owner

—

jake silently mourns on his way back home. again, he’s glad layla’s okay. he really is. but he had to pay an extraordinarily large amount of money just to be told that she’s fine. and a little fat.

he glares at layla, who looks back at him with sparkling eyes. his heart melts at the sight, and he sighs as he pets her. jake thinks of you and the fondness in your eyes as you petted the same fur moments prior. maybe something good did come out of his visit to the vet.

suddenly, he gets an idea. he paid a lot of money for this consultation, so he could be a little greedy. as a client, he could ask for your number, right? after all, what if something truly serious happened next time? he’d rather skip the formality of booking an appointment through the website and speak directly with you instead.

so, he pulls up the clinic’s information and calls the number on their website. a girl — likely the same one who welcomed him in — answers and asks what she could do for him.

“hey, i was just at the clinic for an appointment with my dog layla. i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you think it would be possible to get the number of the vet who saw layla today? just in case anything happens to layla again. you know?”

jake physically cringes as he speaks. way to not sound weird.

“uhm… one moment please.” the girl responds. jake hears whispering on the other side of the call.

what he didn’t know was that you were right next to the girl on call, sorting through some paperwork before you saw your next patient.

“doctor! layla’s owner is calling and asking if he can get your number..?” your secretary whispers.

you whip your head towards her, not believing what you heard. layla’s owner? the cute, fluffy hair guy?

she looks as giddy as you feel, giggling as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. laughing at her, you give her a thumbs up and she’s quick to bring the phone to her ear again.

“hello? yes, the doctor said there’s no problem. do you have something to write with? okay. her number is…”

you smile to yourself as she recites your personal number. a bell rings throughout the clinic, notifying you of your next patient’s arrival. you greet them and lead them to your consultation room and as you close the door your phone buzzes.

unknown number: hi, this is jake. layla’s dad. thanks again for the help today. if you don’t mind, i’d like to take you out sometime?

you bite your lip to suppress your grin. quickly, you reply.

you: i’d love that. date and time?

[lvrhughes]

5 + 1 | L. Hughes

Pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none?

Summary: Five times Luke was clearly into you and one time where he finally did something

Requested: No

not my gif!

1

“Come on buttercup! It’ll be fun, you can stay with Luke the entire time!” Trevor’s voice filled the space, urging you to leave your book and chair in the grass to join him and the others on the boat. 

“But I won’t have my book.” 

“You could take your book?” 

“Not with you all, you’ll splash it.” 

Trevor let out an exaggerated groan, his hands moving up to run through his hair while he watched Quinn ready the boat. 

Trevor was the one who had brought you, Trevor being your first friend when you started working in Anaheim. His loud personality was quick to drag you in, and now you could never escape him. Not even if you tried, so when the opportunity arose, you’d always take it to annoy him. 

“Hey buttercup.” Luke’s voice came from the sliding door, his body leaned out just enough to see you and Trevor. “You coming for a ride?” 

“Sure.” The smile on your face grew as the scowl on Trevor’s face appeared, letting out another groan before walking away. 

Your book placed gently where you had been curled in the chair, walking inside after Trevor and Luke, watching the boys leaned over the counter eating whatever fruits Jack had cut up. 

“Hey, hey! Those are for the boat, get your sticky fingers out!” Jack called, jogging into the kitchen from his previous position on the stairs, where he stood for a few too many minutes looking at his phone. 

Luke’s arms went up in a false surrender while Trevor just shook his head, ignoring his friends complaints and continued eating. Reaching for another piece of the pineapple that had been cut before you smacked his hand. 

“Jack said no.” You grinned, seeing the frown on his face. 

“One more piece?”

“No. Wait.” 

From the corner of your eye you could see the smile Luke wore, shaking his head at the scene before walking out to join his oldest brother. Jack took packing the fruit quickly, leaving you to gather your attire for the boat before joining the boys on the dock. Trevor already lounged on the backseat while the three brothers did the work, leaving you to kick the Zegras boy until he agreed to help the Hughes’ ready the boat. 

“We should always have buttercup here if it means that she’ll get Trevor to work.” Quinn commented, passing another item to Trevor for him to put away, but not before rolling his eyes. 

“You are not taking my best friend just because I’ll listen to her.” 

“No, I think we should.” Jack agreed, his arm snaking around your waist pulling your body flush against his from where you stood on the dock, watching the colour of Luke’s eyes darken with his brother's move. 

“Let go of me Jack, you are not the man I would want to hold me.” The words came out quickly, a soft laugh following them at the offended look on the brunette's face. 

“Is there a man you’d want holding you here?” The question came from Luke, his eyes set on you while Trevor’s widened, looking over to the youngest Hughes. 

A moment of silence followed, Luke’s eyes never leaving yours before Jack broke the silence, coughing into his hand to bring everyone’s attention back to the fact the boat was ready now. Luke, who already stood in the boat, held his hand out, helping you into the boat as his brothers united it from the dock. 

Quinn was almost always the driver, and it was no different this time, with him leading the way on the lake and everyone else simply enjoying the ride. It wasn’t until the middle of the lake that Quinn slowed the boat, dropping the anchor before ditching his canucks tee to jump into the lake, Jack and Trevor following in suit. Luke stayed beside you, waiting for your move before making his, waiting for you to take off the clothing covering your bathing suit before he did the same, following you into the lake. 

“Lukey, you’re like a lost puppy.” His brothers played, pointing out the way he’d been following you. 

“Shut up.” 

The day had gone by quickly, setting up wakeboarding right after, watching boy after boy go. Slowly eating the fruit that had been packed until sunset, the slight breeze emitting a gentle chill. Enough of a chill to send a small shiver through your body, small enough no one would notice, but Luke. His movements quick and precise, grabbing the hoodie he wore earlier before motioning for you to stand, slipping it over your frame in one swift motion. 

“Thank you Lu.” It was barely above a whisper, but he heard, the soft smile on his face ensured he did. 

2.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through your phone, his annoying pestering that you had taken a job opportunity with the Devils following you to Jersey. 

Where you were now, staying in Jack’s spare room until you found your own place, 

“Trevor, would you just shut up, you play the Devils next week!” 

“But that’s a whole week without you!” His playful groans never ending, leading to you pressing end on the call without warning, ensuring a very upset message from him after. 

Soft knocking on the door grabbed your attention, turning to see Luke standing in the doorway, his tall frame leaned against the frame. His curls lay an unruly mess atop his head, yet still looked perfect. 

“Was just wondering if you wanted any help with anything? Or maybe if you’d like to get takeout with me and Jack?” his voice was always soft, like he was scared to speak too loud around you, but it was nice. 

“I’d love takeout and if you’d want, could you help me find my laptop charger? I know it’s in one bag but god knows which.” He laughed at your words, nodding before walking over. 

He moved in sync with you, checking your carry on quickly before pulling out the cord. 

“Are you serious? I swear I already looked in there!” The laugh he let out at your confession was almost angelic, catching you by surprise and causing you to pause, just listening to the tallest Hughes boy. 

“Lovebirds come get food!” Jack’s yell interrupted the peace that had followed, Luke’s hand hovering over yours as he reached to pass you the cord. 

Luke’s eyes stayed in yours, watching closely as you rolled your eyes at Jack's words, thankfully grabbing the charger from him before throwing it onto the bed. Taking Luke’s hand to lead him out of the room, ignoring the soft blush that covered his cheeks as you held his hand. 

“We are not lovebirds, Jackson.”  The older boy rolled his eyes, returning to shoving the food in his mouth quickly. 

Your hand dropped Luke’s as you sat, taking the middle of the couch, in between the brothers. Reaching for the food Jack seemed to hoard before passing it to Luke, ensuring he got the food too. 

“For not being lovebirds you sure as hell act like it.” Jack mumbled, his words muffled with food, the sound of coughing covering the space shortly after he received a hit to the back of his head from his brother. 

“Asshole!” He yelled back, leaning over your lap to reach his younger brother. 

Your movements were quick, pushing the oldest brother back to the couch, your hand on Luke’s chest as if to keep him from moving. 

“Would you quit it? You’re acting like children, just eat.” You groaned, reaching for the food that sat on the coffee table once more. 

3

“Luke! Have you seen my bag?” The yell of your voice flooded the apartment that you were only supposed to be in for a few weeks, which had turned into nearly a year of living with the brothers. 

“Is it the one hanging by the door?” His voice shot back, progressively getting louder, walking towards your room, where you stood searching for your bag for the night.

The night being one of the Devils media events that Luke deemed he was dragging you to, refusing to go without you. 

His body froze at the door, his steps faltered as he saw your figure, watching your turn and face him. His cheeks reddened, the tips of his ears turning pink at the attention, watching the way your eyes lit up at his sight. 

“You look gorgeous.” He finally mumbled, taking a step towards you, his hands moving out to hold your waist as you stepped towards him. 

“Thank you, Lu.” You grinned, looking up at the boy, letting his hands rest on your waist as yours shifted to his shoulders. 

“Come on, either make out or let’s go!” Jack’s voice cut through the moment, his frame standing in the doorway with a hand on his hip. 

“Fuck off Jack.” The words left your lips with a groan, leaning into Luke’s chest before he wrapped his arms around your body. 

Luke was quick to flip his brother off, holding your body tight against his for the moment while Jack glared, before speaking. 

“We’re coming, go start the car.” Luke urged, motioning for Jack to leave. “Let’s go, Buttercup.” Luke whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair, so soft it was almost missed. 

Replying with a soft kiss to his cheek, to which he turned a new shade of red from, you nodded after. Stepping back to grab your phone off the bed before following Luke out of the apartment, grabbing your bag that was hanging by the door. 

4

“Lu?” Your voice was soft, keeping it quiet in fear that the tall boy was in fact asleep. You could see his body turn in his bed at the sound of your voice, a soft groan slipping past his lips filling your body with a feeling of guilt. 

“Buttercup?” His voice was groggy, deep with sleep still as his hands moved to rub his eyes. 

“‘M sorry Lu, just wanted to make sure you were okay, I couldn’t sleep.” The confession had Luke’s heart racing, his mind wandering with the fact you were thinking about him, even if it was because he was injured. Set out for a few games with a sprained wrist and mild concussion, left more time for the youngest Hughes to spend with you.

“Come ‘ere, Buttercup.” He shifted his body, sliding up on the pillows waiting for you to slide in beside him. His arm dropping to pull you flush against him as you approached, earning a soft giggle, making a smile grow on his face. 

“Love cuddling with you, you should just stay here all the time, ‘d sleep better.” 

His words lingered with sleep, covering your cheeks in a flush as the words rolled off his tongue. Shaking your head at the youngest boy as he pulled you onto his chest, laying back down on the bed, his arms keeping you pressed against him. 

“Get out” Luke’s voice was deep with sleep as his arms held you against his body, urging his brother to leave the room. 

“There’s no way you two are only friends!” Jack’s voice full of disbelief, a wide eyed stare sent towards the bed. 

Opening your eyes slowly to watch the brothers bicker, turning your head further into the crook of Luke’s neck before groaning, speaking to jack. 

“Get out would you? Not all of us need to wake up at 5am.”

Jack rolled his eyes, turning away to walk back to his room, gathering his gear for practice. 

“He's so annoying.” Luke groaned, his hands rubbing gently along your back.

“He’s doing exactly what older brothers do.” 

5

“Lu, you’ll do amazing.” You grinned at the youngest Hughes, his hands running through his hair as he tried to ready himself for the event. 

The coaches urged him to give a speech, his body filled with nerves despite his previous speeches. 

If anyone had asked Luke what made him so nervous this time, he didn’t have an answer but he had a guess. And his guess would be the girl who stood in front of him, tying his tie while his hands lingered a little too long on her waist. 

“What if I mess up the words?” 

“No one will even notice, they’ll be too encaptured by your beauty.” You smiled, a blush covering Luke’s cheeks at the words.

“I’m serious Buttercup.”

“And so am I. Luke, you look so pretty tonight and even if you mess up, it doesn’t matter no one cares.” 

 A small smile grew on the tall boy's face, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before nodding. 

“You’re right, I’ll be fine. Wait for me beside the stage?”

“You know I will.” He grinned at the confirmation, tightening his grip on your waist before placing another kiss to the top of your head.

“Can I get a kiss for good luck?” There was a small smirk on his face as he spoke, a blush covering your face. 

“You know you don’t need it.”

“But it’d make me feel so much better.” 

“Maybe after your speech we can talk.” 

The smile never left his face, holding the conversation easily, flirting remarks made back. Even after you pushed him away, leading him out to the public for his speech, leaving him at the stage alone the smile never disappeared. 

As expected, his speech was perfect. Without missing a beat or a single mistake, Luke made it through the speed earning a standing ovation from his crowd. His movements were quick to get off stage, quick to find you waiting near the stage like you said. 

“You did so good, Lu.” 

He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you and spinning, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

+1

The return of summer has come quickly, your first year with the devils over as you met with your boys at the lake house. 

The lights were off in the house, Quinn’s car parked out front as the two other Hughes’ pulled into the driveway. 

Your hands running through Luke’s curls to wake him, his head on your shoulder as he slept through the drive. 

“Lu, we’re here.” Your voice was soft, whispering the words to him as he groaned. 

“Was comfy.” He moaned, curling further into your body, as much as the car would allow. 

“get your ass out of my car Luke or I’ll get Quinn to throw you in the lake.” Jack’s voice interrupted, making Luke groan again before moving. 

“Asshole.” He mumbled, his body moving to slowly get out of the car, stretching as he stood outside. 

You were quick to follow, sliding out behind him before heading for the trunk of Jack’s car. Luke following a few steps behind, reaching in front of you as you opened the trunk, grabbing your bag and his from your reach. 

“Hey let me take my bag.” 

“Nope, pretty girls don’t have to do any work this summer.” The smirk on his face evident even as he turned to walk towards the house. 

You shook your head at the boy, following him inside to find the other boys. Following the noise out to the yard, the group of boys, consisting of the other Hughes’ and many of their friends, throwing a cheap football around. 

“Buttercup!” Trevor was the first to notice your presence, dropping his attention to only be hit with the ball that was thrown his way. “Asshole!” He yelled to Ethan, who threw the ball before running towards you. 

You barely had time to take a step back before his arms were around you, hoisting you into the air and spinning. 

“Trevor, put me down!” The words were interrupted with laughter, making the ducks player smile. 

“Missed you Buttercup.” He grinned, placing your feet on the ground while the other boys piled around, taking their turns hugging you. 

“Give me my girl back.” Luke spoke, returning from his trip upstairs, where he simply threw both of your suitcases in his room. 

“Oh your girl?” Trevor sassed back, his hands on his hips as he spoke. 

“Shut it.” Luke snapped back, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back from his past teammates who encircled you. 

“Luke, share with us. You have her all year.” Ethan pleaded, his hands reaching out to pull you back before promptly being smacked away by Luke. 

“Fuck off Ethan.” He had a glare on his face to suit his words, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer against his body. 

“Lu, let me see the boys for a bit, you know I’ll be with you tonight.” He let out a sigh, dropping his hold as you turned to press a kiss to his cheek before running towards the boys. 

“You finally asked her out?” Trevor asked, standing beside Luke now while they watched the others. 

“No.” 

“Sure seems like it, if you don’t soon I just might.” 

Luke moved faster than Trevor could even think, his hit promptly smacking Trevor in the nose, where he thought the older boy would dodge. Trevor’s hands covering his face as he yelled at the younger Hughes, garnering the attention of the others.

“What happened?” Quinn was the first to ask, walking over to the two, you following close behind. 

“Your brother punched me!” Trevor spoke quickly, pulling his hand away from his face to see the blood. “Asshole.” He mumbled before Quinn grabbed his face, examining the cut that covered his nose.

“It’s just a cut, you’ll be fine, go wash off.” Quinn spoke fast, shoving the Zegras boy towards the door before turning to his little brother. “The fuck were you doing?” 

A pink tinted Luke’s cheeks, staring at the ground as he brother spoke. Slowly lifting his gaze to catch your eye, where a worried look littered your face. 

“He just said something I thought he’d dodge but he didn’t.” Luke admitted, his hand running through his hair while he finally caught his brother's eyes. 

“Care to share what he said?” 

“Nope.” Luke was quick with the answer, pushing past his brother to reach you, his arms wrapping around your waist out of instinct. 

“No, hands off, why’d you punch Trevor.” A shocked look was quick to cover his face when you pushed his hands from your waist, staring at him with a look that made it clear he shouldn’t push it. 

“He said something stupid, okay? I just didn’t like it.” Luke sighed, his hands reaching out again before being smacked down by yours. 

“You can’t just punch him over it!” 

“I thought he’d duck.” Luke shrugged, scanning your gaze waiting for you to cave. 

“That doesn’t justify it! Luke, you can’t punch because he said something, what could he have even said that would justify that?” Luke’s eyes dropped at the scolding, feeling like a child again while his hands itched to hold you. 

He mumbled under his breath, admitting what Trevor had said, in such a voice no one could hear. 

“What? Luke don’t mumble.” Your voice was strict, sounding more and more like his mothers by the minute. 

“I said he was going to ask you out.” Luke’s voice sounded strained at the words, your eyes softening at the confession. “He can’t, he knows.” Luke’s voice returned to barely above a whisper, his hands running anxiously through his curls as he stared at you, waiting for a reaction. 

“What does he know?” 

“He knows I love you.” Luke swallowed after the words, letting out a sarcastic laugh after, “Hell, everyone but you seems to know.” 

“What?” There was barely time for you to slip the confusion into the conversation before Luke continued, his voice filled with anxiety. 

“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, but you were one of my best friends, I couldn’t ruin it. Trevor was the first to point it out, that day on the boat when you only came after I asked, Trevor dragged me aside after pestering me until I confessed. Then Quinn, then Jack and slowly everyone else had just learned. Then Trevor asked today if I finally asked you out and then he said he would if I didn’t and I didn’t even think I just swung.” Luke’s ramble being interrupted with a breath before he continued. “I don’t think I could live if you went out with him, it’d kill me. I need to be the one, please.” 

A soft look covered your face, Luke’s eyes staring into yours, pleading for something, anything. You could see the desperation in his eye, the way his hands shook at his sides, the way he looked like he’d give anything to have you. 

“Lu,” Your hands reached to cup his face, gently running your thumbs along his jawline while his hands fell to your waist. “I love you so much.” 

The smile on his face as you said the words would live engraved in your mind forever, his lips quick to meet yours in a chaste kiss that had you pulling him in for more. Your hands tangled through the curls at the nape of his neck, while his arms wrapped around your waist holding you against him. 

“Fucking finally.” A groan came from the door, snapping away from Luke to see Trevor stood in the doorway. “Only took years and almost breaking my nose.” His words tapered off, wandering back inside, earning a laugh from Luke before your hand smacked his chest. 

“Luke! Don’t laugh, go apologize.” Luke’s eyes widen at your tone, watching the glare you had as if you had forgotten about the Zegras boy until now. “Go.” 

Slowly he did, dragging you with him, he made his way into the kitchen. Where Trevor stood, an icepack to his nose while he ate strawberries Jack had cut up for the boat trip later. 

“You never learn to save food for the boat.” You scolded, seeing the shake of his head at your words. 

“I think I deserve some berries.” He mumbled, shoving more into his mouth. 

You looked up to Luke, nodding towards Trevor for the boy to speak. His gaze lingered on you, watching your eyes narrow as time passed before you lightly kicked his shin, urging him to speak. 

“”M sorry I hit you, I thought you’d duck but that’s not the point.” Luke’s apology was sad, and half-assed, but it worked. Garnering Trevors attention for him to walk over to the youngest Hughes with a smile, trapping the boy in a headlock before ruffling his hair and mumbling some words about it being okay. 

Luke was quick to leave the minute Trevor’s grip faltered, Luke pulling hard to get free before grabbing your hand and running up the stairs. 

“Lu, slow down!” The words were separated by laughter, almost falling up the stairs trying to keep up with the curly headed boy. 

Within seconds, you were in his room, his arms around your waist giving him an easy way to throw you to his bed. Landing on it with a soft thud as he followed shortly behind, immediately pulling your body to his and pressing another kiss to your lips.

[cheriladycl01]

Hi!

Could you please write something for whichever f1 driver you want with a reader who's a children's books illustrator and author? Maybe they get to know each other because his niece is obsessed with her books and he took her to one of her events.

I'd like to see how the grid and the media would react to someone so bubbly, kind, and creative!

Thnx!! <3

My sunshine - Lewis Hamilton x ChildrensAuthor! Reader

Plot: Lewis comes home to find his niece and nephew obsessed with one lady’s books! Little did he know you’d end up being his whole future!

“What you reading there?” Lewis asked as he grabbed some fruit from the fridge and started to cut it up. Babysitting was one of his favourite free time activities.

“MAE THE MAGICIAN” they both yell at him, making him pause cutting the fruit. He knew his niece really enjoyed reading but to see his nephew so excited about this book was odd.

“Mmmm what’s it about?” Lewis asks as he starts to make little snack boxes for the two, ready to take them out to the park.

“This girl called Mae, and she helps Gaia and George using her Magic tricks, she’s funny” the girl describes to her favourite Uncle.

“Woah, what kind of magic tricks does she do?” He asks.

“She makes sure their homework is complete and their beds are made for when their mum gets home!” His nephew explains.

“Oh and then this book is good to. Can we show you our library uncle Lewis” his nephew begs looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t say no too!

He follows them up, being taken to one of the smaller bedrooms that was being used as as playroom/ library. There was an expanse of books, but what caught his eye was how many of the same author there were.

It was the same one as the book they were reading from earlier. It seemed she had lots of kids books varying in ages from very young, basically just pictures books, to a series of books which reminded him of the Rainbow Magic Series that his brothers girlfriend had read when she was younger.

They all had titles of careers with a matching name. Both boys and girls.

Alex the Astrologist

Bianca the Brain Surgeon

Colin the Conductor

Daisy the Dragon Tamer

Ethan the Ecologist

Freya the F1 Driver

Who?

That intrigued him.

“Have you guys read all of these?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Of course! She’s the best! Our favourite” one of them exclaims as they re-order books that had been misplaced.

“Which ones your favourite?” He asks his nephew.

“She wrote one about me! Called Kaiden the Karate Master” he exclaims making chopping actions with his hands.

“And you?” He asks Willow.

“She wrote one about me to called Willow the Writer” she says shoving the book at him happily to which he looks through looking at all the cute little illustrations to which he later researched that they were actually drawn by the author as well.

Upon doing further research and trying to get some of her latest books on pre-order he went down a rabbit hole, finding her instagram which was incredibly cozy and just what he expected from an author.

There was a few posts of her charity work and what she did around her community. The links led him to her official website where she had her various charities, an about her page that he couldn’t help but browse but he also saw a part where it showed up and coming events.

“Willow? Kaiden? How would you feel about going to meet Y/N Y/L/N, maybe get a few books signed?” He asks the next morning, wondering whether that would be something they were into.

“YES!” They’d both screamed.

He sent you a DM on Instagram explaining that he was planning on bringing his niece and nephew to your book signing in London. You replied immediately which shocked him, explaining you’d be more than happy to do a private signing afterwards for him and his family and how you were a huge fan of his.

At the book signing.

You were pretty exhausted after the public signing and needed to have a break and just grab a drink where your throat was on fire for talking as much as you had.

But within the hour you were ready to see Lewis and his niece and nephew. They were so polite to you when you stood up to greet them and what shocked Lewis even more is how easily you communicated to the younger kids.. It was like second nature to you how you used your hands to basically animate everything you say to make you seem so youthful and energetic.

“Hi I’m Lewis and this is Willow and Kaiden” he introduced and from after that he was insanely smitten with you, everything you did he would watch with wide eyes.

You spent the time interacting with the kids and signing the copious amounts of books that they had bought for you to sign. You also talked to them about upcoming stuff that they would enjoy where they had really liked your career series for young children.

“Hey I know you might think this is a little soon but I’d really like to take you out some time, for dinner” he asked one his sibling had taken the kids outside to the car say that he could ask you some more personal questions. They ranged from what you enjoyed to how you got into writing children’s books specifically.”

“Well, I think I would really like that, I don’t think I’ve ever been out on a proper date” she smiles looking down and blushing lightly at the comment.

”Never been on a proper date, I’ll have to treat you right then?” he smirks looking over you.

“Where would we go?” You ask politely starting to collect the books left over from the signing.

“Out to a restaurant or a movie, maybe a picnic at some point when it’s warmer the weather isn’t great right now” he says stepping closer to her.

After the book signing you and Lewis went on dates, lots of them and to say his niece and nephew were excited was an understatement you would randomly turn up to family events and they’d start to get your books early and not published Waterstones versions that normally were gifted to them.

“Baby I really want you to come to a race with me, I want to show you off to everyone there and how cute you are. I bet the grid will love you just as much as I do. Actually scrap that, that’s impossible” he smiles and you can’t help but giggle.

“Of course I’ll come with you Lew” you smile leaning across him and kissing his check, before gripping his hands and holding them.

“You ready to meet everyone?” He asks with that soft chocolaty voice that could make you melt.

“I think so, I’m just kind of nervous what they’ll think” you say a light blush forming into your face wondering if you’d embarrass yourself on camera, or if they’d ask you questions … it was hard.

“Well, for the record I know they’ll love you. You want a run down?” And you of course nod wanting to know as much as possible.

“Well, there’s my teammate Charles who you’ll probably meet first in the garage. You’ll love his girlfriend Alex she’s a diamond and you’ll talk about fashion no doubt!” He grins and you not trying to take in the names knowing more are to come.

He talks about his ex team-mates George and Valtteri and how you’d get on with both of them pretty well. He also knew Lando and Daniel would love you, as you all had very similar bubbly people personality’s.

He was excited to show you off to not just them but everyone, you weren’t like the other Hollywood Stars and actresses you were just so … normal? NOT that he would ever describe you as that, because that almost felt like an insult to you.

“Are you nervous baby?” He asks looking over to you as he pulls into the paddock.

“A little, I’ve never been around this many people here before” you say looking over to him, grabbing onto his hand on the gear stick.

“You’ll be fine, and you’ll finally get to watch me in my job. I love watching you write and draw but I want you to see what I do” he nods and you smile, loving this side of Lewis.

He had this intimacy that you’d never experienced with anyone else. Little things he appreciated knowing that you’d never had with anyone else.

You walked through the paddock together scanning your little pass on the thing seeing an awful picture of you come up that Lewis must have submitted.

“Lewis what the hell!” You asked gazing at the picture he’d chosen.

“What! I love that photo of you!” He smiles happily gazing at you looking at the picture that slowly disappears.

“Come on, let’s get you to the garage so you can get familiar with everything” he smiles a hand sneaking round your waist as he guides you through the bustling paddock.

When you enter Ferrari Garage your greeted by all the mechanics, a lot of them with young children knowing exactly who you are and wanting pictures to show their kids when they got home.

Charles and Alexandra greeted you only 30 minutes later and you and Alex got along great, taking Roscoe and Leo for walks around the paddock while she tried to help you adjust to all the hustle and bustle of life in motorsport.

“So how long have you and Lewis been together now?” Alex asked with a small polite smile.

“Oh! It feels like forever! He’s only been so sweet and like to me” you grin, your voice getting louder and louder as you talk about Lewis. Alex notices and can’t help but smile at how you’re talking about Lewis.

After meeting Alex and Charles the next people you ended up meeting was Lando and Oscar. Lewis had asked you to grab his water bottle from the car which he’d left behind and you got lost on your way back the two McLaren drivers immediately noticing and recognising you.

They helped you back to the garage just as they were being called for the race and that they needed to get into the car.

Then next thing you knew as you were watching Lewis come round a corner, a little drift as skidded in the gravel but caught himself well enough that it didn’t lessen his time too much.

Then you were casted on the TV screens and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

You gave a polite little wave and grin to the camera before it panned off of you and back onto the race.

“And that’s Y/N Y/L/N she’s the current partner of Lewis Hamilton and she’s a very well known author of children’s books, ones that actually my own children read and I just know they are going to be kicking their feet that I got to meet her today” the commentator offers with a little chuckle.

“Yeah what did you think of her?” The other commentator for Sky Sports asks.

“Ah she’s just so sweet, she wouldn’t stop talking about her writing and I was more than happy to listen and she was so polite and happy and god’s I want her in the paddock more often, she’s such a little ray of sunshine”

After all the excitement, you had this energy around you that you couldn’t describe and it gave you loads of writing juices. You got home to the hotel that night and you wrote down all your ideas, sat in Lewis lap.

You knew for sure you’d be coming back to way more races and you’d been missing out!

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[cryptfile]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ࣪ over the moon [ benedict bridgerton x wife!reader ]

summary — based on a request but went slightly off with it aka when your husband starts to stay up painting till late you start plotting a good plan to make him go to bed with you and actually rest instead.

warnings — pure fluff, since the rumors of sophie being latina sparked, personally went crazy with the information so it’s implied that reader is latina also, mentions of sex (nothing explicit,,, implied as part of a establish relationship).

side notes — English is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes i’m sorry in advance. this is for my latin girlies out here reading in tumblr, working extra hard to translate your works to bring new content to the page, tkm <3 reblogs, comments and likes are much appreciated,,,as brittany broski once said: i'm a benedict bridgerton believer, i'm a benedict bridgerton ally.

You really didn’t know what you were getting into when you accepted Benedict’s marriage proposal.

Nobody told you that loving an artist is a tricky thing, cause while you’re always giving Ben’s new ideas, you hate him at the same time when he’s at the art studio until late, painting as if the absence of light it’s not enough to separate him from the canvas.

God, it just drives you crazy. He lacks of a schedule so he’s able to keep on painting till the rays of light start to appear again in the window he leaves opened all night long, and you’re afraid he’s going to catch a cold if he continues with his bad habits.

It suddenly hits him, that inspiration he ends up being the victim of, kissing you quickly as he escapes so fast you aren’t able to say anything when he disappears leaving you alone, you tolerate it at first, but the second? The third? He's just testing your patience at this point.

Your marriage has never been a troubled one, your husband does not make you mad most of the time and you enjoy being in love, those little things that made your heart skip a beat. You enjoy talking to him at night, spend your day in his art room as he encourages you to keep on writing that mystery book you're so into lately, bickering about how unfair life is for women your age — Hell, woman of all ages.

You love the sound of his laugh when he's careless about everything else, when he admits he doesn't want to go that night's party cause he just wants to stay home and fuck you senseless, his way of seeing art and explain it to you as something totally opposite as what you really think it is.

Thing is, you choose to marry Benedict Bridgerton cause you're indeed, head over heels with him. You've fall for the charming smile and sassy attitude that made you finally settle after years of being called a spinster. He finds the way to intrude the walls of the maze that was your heart and managed to plant a flag in the middle of it when you're confident enough to talk to him, let alone be seen in public after all the rumors you've heard that he was looking for a wife that season.

Even when you try to avoid him, he makes you fall in no time, following you around like a lost puppy, going to your house to spend time with your family, convincing everyone he's desperate to try the food your nana makes, cause you've talked about how good it taste all the time.

It's almost like he tricked you into make you love him, to have you between the brushes dipped in a funny smell water. He has you hooked by the first months and soon after? God, he has no education when he makes you love him, how he obliges you to stain yourself with all the things he was his daily life mixed with yours functioning so well.

It's a thorn nailed in the palm of your hand, those moments of privacy when the moon evolves you and your lover completely that are now being taken away. It's selfish, surely it's something childish so you don't want to say anything to your friends, or even Daphne Basset when she visits you to have an afternoon of tea free from her kids, asking you about how everything's going days before you came up with this great idea.

You can take the matter by your hands, that's why the next time Benedict's painting at midnight your mind works like a machine.

After all the time together you happen to know him more than you know yourself, the things he enjoys what he dislikes the most — So it's not very hard to plot against your husband.

Benedict doesn't seem to hear you when you silently glide through the half-open door, unaware as the light of the candle lights is not enough to illuminate the whole room, the fire he kept close to the canvas he was currently working on. He looks handsome all concentrated. His brows furrowed as he takes the pigments with his bare hands and mix them in his wood palette to get that exact color he was looking for. A shade of pink for a piece he hasn't shown you officially yet.

"What are you doing up so late?" you ask coyly when you are close to him, hearing how his breath hitched for a second before noticing it's you, your hands coming from behind just to intrude in his space close to the easel. He's taller than you, but it doesn't stop you from standing in your tiptoes, pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

You cannot hide that you're tired. You lost the track of time when you got out of bed, so when you have your husband close and finally smell that nice and subtle aroma he carries with him, you relax in his back, the sound of his heartbeat loud against your ear.

"You scared me for a second," he says with a grin, muscles relaxing under your touch. "Didn't hear you coming in."

He has dry paint on his neck, so while you're cleaning his skin with one hand, he leans into you, back pressed against your chest seeking for your warmth, that contact he always seems to enjoy, your attention in all the ways he can get it.

“Bed’s cold without you” you say, fingers on his recently trimmed hair. "Done waiting for'you."

He has the nerve to laugh at your words, slowly at first, the sound of it making your skin shiver. He's going to defend his choices, you know it, and you hate how much you enjoy it, the way he always seems to find an excuse making you totally offended as you retort something equally ridiculous.

"Just thirty more minutes I promise," he says pressing a kiss in the palm of your hand he so gently grabs. "If you stay with me like this, can do the work in twenty."

"You can fool anyone else with that Ben, not buying it" to be honest, you're just trying to contradict everything he says, far from what you thought doing first when you plotted against him. "You said the same last week, amor. Not falling for any more lies."

"Not falling huh?" he asks, lowering the wood palette to look at you, his eyes meeting yours when you're so comfortable pressing your chin on his shoulder, looking at the painting he was doing — "You've learned the lesson then?"

"Twenty more minutes mean an hour in Benedict's language," he's the one that's now offended when his mouth opens in disbelief "Turns out I know my husband, and we both know that’s way more than twenty minutes.”

He loves it. It’s almost a secret, but he loves how you demand his company, the way you don’t fold against anything and you stand for what you believe. He loves how you claim to know him, your lavender smell filling every single space available in the room as he smiles happily in response. He was so unsure of marrying you at first, but now he doesn’t know what his life would look like without you in the picture.

“Ah, I’m guilty as charge” he says, his own hand going to his chest like it saddens him to hear you talk like that. “Thought you wanted me to paint more.”

You've been encouraging him to show his art to more people, a small gallery that displayed his talent, but that’s using your words for his advantage.

“You little bastard, that’s unfair coming from you.”

“Woah woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kiss you even” you stick your tongue out, and he’s suddenly turning you around to place a kiss in your forehead, making you move in front of him instead — “You wouldn’t even imagine.”

Benedict’s a romantic. A poet at heart, so he doesn’t let any opportunity slip to show his affection, his infinite devotion to you. His heart flutters in his chest and suddenly he’s kissing you, staining your white nightgown with the fresh paint of his hands and not caring about it at the slightest. Kisses you like he missed you, like he didn’t see you the whole day when in reality you’ve spent all day in the same house, baking cookies cause you’ve suffered from a burst of love to the kitchen.

“You’re not convincing me” you say between kisses, hands pressing you closer to him. “I’m not leaving this room without you.”

He chuckles at your words — “Not even ten minutes?”

He’s devastatingly handsome in a way that makes you stare at him, wonder what you did to make him so interested in you, so attracted to the point he has to marry you.

"No Bridgerton. Ni diez minutos." To be honest, the accent just makes him go weak at the spot. It's pathetic, but he cannot help it, his brain melts at the sound of your voice, even if he doesn't understand much of what you're saying. "Let's go to bed."

You know it's a weapon, your lips are on his face, and he forgets about everything else: How he's supposed to continue on working when your lips are kissing every inch of his face? Seems like an impossible task now that his hands are on your waist and all he can notice are your pink lips, how you're looking at him through half-lidded eyes cause you're sleepy, an smile that eclipses the rest.

Benedict's no longer worried of his painting. Hell, he cannot seem to remember what shade of pink he was so invested in finding before, but he don't care at all when he's the one now leaning in, kissing you with fervent love as he traces the outline of your lips, almost asking for permission to invade you before deepening the contact, tangling his fingers in the strands of your hair cause he simply cannot get enough from you.

"Take me to bed then, my beautiful wife."

He does not protest next. He loves every second of it, the slight force, your gentle touch when your guiding him through the cottage you two share in Wiltshire, the goosebumps in his own skin when you managed to get what you want.

You win. It's a war that Benedict never intended to win, a disaster he knew it would end up with the result of him leaving his work half done cause he cannot resist to the idea of being tangled with you in such an intimate way. He sleeps so well with you on his arms, burying his head on your hair as he relaxes beneath the sheets, the contact of your skin enough to make him have the best night sleep.

Can he resist it? He's neck deep. Talked about it with his brothers before, drinking too much as the words slurred together and he admits how you got him wrapped around your finger, so in love he would do anything to please you, let alone have your full attention — They surely made fun of him, but is it his fault? Being so in love with his wife?

"Can't say no to you," he says defeated "You know it."

In the privacy of the room you two share, you're washing his hands with a wet cloth, preventing him from getting the sheets dirty before pulling his linen shirt to the floor. It's so quickly, he don't seem to realize what you're doing until he's already in bed, covered with the thick duvet as he searches for you.

He realizes now he should have listened to you before, cause his back is surely happy now that he's able to rest, the weariness of being standing so many hours now falling over him as his eyes began to close by themselves.

"When are you going to stop working so late?" You ask, pressing your cheek against his chest as you hugged him, getting closer to him even when you stole more than half of the bed in the process. The second son of the Bridgerton family does not say anything about it, but instead, enjoys how needy you are of his touch, how you want him around.

"Inspiration always come late, angel" he tries to defend himself as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe it’s a curse.”

"Then i’m afraid i’ll have to drag you to bed every night," you protest. "Cause i'm not letting you stay all night in that studio, crazy man."

"Miss me too much in bed?"

"Hm, what if I do?"

"Cannot blame you," Benedict admits later, using the only traces of force he has left to caress your hair, fingertips against your scalp in a gentle massage. "I'm always missing you when you're not around."

Your heart skips a beat: How could you not be head over heels with this man? He always find the right words, what to say exactly.

Gently, your face come up to press a soft kiss against his lips, a quick one that’s not enough for Benedict when he makes you stay in the same position as he steals a much longer one.

Life is simple with him by your side, you know it cause you might as well be over the moon when you’re alone with Benedict Bridgerton.

Every. single. day.

my masterlist.

[morally-gray-men-for-life]

Midnight Confessions (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x Fem!reader

Genre: fluff, almost smut, friends to lovers

Summary: After months of you both pinning over each other, he comes to you one night and feelings come to the surface.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Not beta or proof read, slight ooc Enoch?, marking kink

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written I apologize for the shit writing, this was also loosely based off a conversation I had with a bot I made on character ai. Also no hate to Olive I love her

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Its half past midnight and you can’t sleep, deciding to read you quietly get out of bed, the floor boards of the old children’s home gently creaking under your feet as you take a few step towards your book shelf.

Before your finger tips could graze the spine of the book you reached for you heard a quiet knock at your door, considering the odd hour you assume it’s one of the young children coming to you because of a nightmare, not wanting to wake Miss Peregrine and disturb her very structure schedule.

Instead, when you open the door you find Enoch staring back at you, dark circles had started forming around his eyes from lack of sleep you guessed. “Enoch? What are you doing up?” You spoke in a hushed voice so no one would be woken up, the walls of the house were practically paper thin.

He shifted awkwardly from one foot to another in the doorway, his gaze falling to the floor, “I could ask you the same thing ..” he muttered, clearly looking slightly uncomfortable, unsure of himself, this was unusual for him you thought, usually he was less fidgety.

You smile slightly at him, he was never someone to seek out company unless it was you, for some reason you and him had bonded almost instantly after meeting, “I just couldn’t sleep honestly, do you want to hangout maybe? Miss Peregrine can’t get mad about you being in my room if she’s asleep” you giggle at the last part of what you just said, remember the time Miss Peregrine gave a lecture after realizing you and Enoch had become friends, apparently because of us being teenagers we weren’t allowed to be in one of our rooms together without someone else there.

He let out an amused scoff as he remembered that day, thinking back to how mad Miss Peregrine had gotten after she walked into your room without knocking and saw the two of you sitting on the bed together talking. Her face going as red as a tomato, “You don’t think she’d be too upset if she knew you were letting a boy into your room this late at night?…She might faint.”

Enoch smirked, a hint of his usual cockiness returning with that familiar expression, you smiled and laughed softly into my hand, you moved away from the door so he could come in.

You walked over to my bed and sat cross legged by your pillows, watching him close the door behind him and sit by the foot of your bed, “It’s not like you’d try something, your so head over heels for Olive” laughing at your jab at his blatant dislike for the girl that has been following him around like a lost puppy since they met.

Enoch’s smirk quickly turning into a frown and a grumble of displeasure, remembering the way Olive had practically been stalking him since she arrived, the thought of that girl irritating him, his dark eyes rolling at the mention of her name. “Don’t remind me.. that girl is a little demon. I swear she’s been following me everywhere recently. He muttered bitterly, leaning back against the foot of the bed frame, crossing his arms and stretching out his legs in front of him.

“Awwwwww poor Enochhhh, she just has a crush on you, it’s kind of hilarious”, you move yourself so you’re laying on my back with your head next to his thigh, you laugh at the teasing of him knowing that he finds it a tad bit amusing. You yourself had developed a small crush on Enoch over the months that you had been friends. He was sarcastic, funny, sharp witted, kind hearted, had a soft spot of little kids, just the right amount of mean sometimes, and so fucking handsome.

“Plus it’s kind of hilarious watching her follow you around like a dog and you have to deal with it because you know Miss Peregrine would get you in trouble for being mean, and your soft spot of kids doesn’t help considering she’s a bit younger than us”. Enoch was clearly trying to keep an annoyed and grumpy expression on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep a scowl on his face but ultimately failed when a small snicker came out.

The sight of olive following him around almost like a lost dog was actually quite funny as you said. He looked down at you as you laid on your back next to him “I do not have a soft spot for children.” He muttered in a grumpy voice, that was very much not convincing, you snicked at his extremely obvious lie. Looking up at him thought your eyelashes to make eye contact with him, he looked almost to handsome in the sliver of moonlight coming through your curtains, his short black loose curls still perfectly in place like they always were, his brown eyes that looked almost black from far away but in the light they looked like pools of honey.

“Ya I totally and completely believe you Enoch, you just simply want to dressing up as a fairy princess with Clair and Bronwyn and let them cover you in lipstick and eyeshadows, totally believe you”, you say with sarcasm and laughter in my voice, trying not to burst out laughing at Enoch’s attempt to keep his grumpy personality in tact around me.

He always seemed to smile more around you than most people, and god was his smile the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen in a long time. Enoch tried his best to look even more grumpy and annoyed but a small smile tugging up the corner of his lips at your sarcastic remark, the memory of you walking in on him dressed in a pretty pink princess dress that Bron and Clair had forced on him popped into his mind.

“I only let them do that because they threatened to cover my room in glitter in my sleep if I didn’t let them dress me up..”, he grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest, not wanting to admit that he had almost enjoyed it a bit. “We both know Bron is too sweet to do that, and Clair is basically the closest thing we have to an angel on earth. You keep telling yourself you had to though sweetheart-” You were laughing so hard tears start streaming down my face, you cover your face with a pillow so you hopefully don’t wake up anyone in the house with the sound of your cackling, you role over on your side facing Enoch from your stomach cramping from pure laughter and barely being able to breath without wheezing.

“God I missed hanging out with you like this”, you say trying to catch your breath and wiping your tears away. Enoch’s small smile only grew wider as he watched you laughing so hard that you couldn’t even breathe properly, the sight of your tears rolling down your cheeks combined with the nickname you had accidentally called him made his heart pound loudly in his chest.

“Yeah me too.. even if you’re completely insufferable most of the time” He joked, trying to hide how affected he was by you calling him ‘sweetheart’. “Oh hush you know you love me, you’d be so incredibly bored without me Enoch”, slight flirting had always been common in your friendship, especially on your side, you’d flirt with him naturally and then have to cover it as a joke so he wouldn’t know you’ve had a crush on him basically since you met.

Enoch was painfully aware of the way you’d often flirt with him, knowing it was all just a joke but he always secretly wondered if there was any truth to your flirtations “Me? Bored without you? I think it’d be way more fun around here without your annoying ass to bug me”, he teased in return, trying to act like the idea of you not around anymore didn’t terrify him.

You were suddenly feeling confident, most likely from the lack of sleep but it’s all the same, considering if maybe you should test if he feels the same for you, “Oh ya and you totally wouldn’t miss me at all, you know Clair tells me what you say about me right?”

Clair has never told you anything about what Enoch said about you before, but it’s a good way to see if he talks about you.Enoch felt like he just might have a heart attack from how fast his heart sped up in his chest, going from the usual pace to almost knocking against his ribs, the thought of you potentially finding out what he’s said about you made him feel like he was drowning.

“…what the hell has she been saying?”

He tried to play ignorant, keeping as stoic and unbothered look on his face as he could even though he was panicking inside, which was made evident by his accent getting thicker in the question. Liking the reaction he gave, you decided to mess with him a bit more, thinking of something that could get a bit more information out of him.

“Oh just that your hopelessly in love with me and she heard you talking about me in your sleep because her room is right next to yours”, you choke back the laughter that rises in your throat, she had told you he was talking about you in his sleep but nothing other than that.

If Enoch thought his heart was going fast before it was absolutely hammering in his chest now, it felt like it might explode from the sheer force of it. Panic rising in his throat as you joked about the possibility of him being in love with you, “what.” He exclaim almost incredulously, trying to fight against the redness that was spreading of his face, He couldn’t let you know how flustered and embarrassed he was.

You were a bit surprised at his reaction, except him to say something like her making up stories and not listening to her, but it was almost like he had said those things you joked about. Feeling a tab bit more confident you maneuvered yourself so you was now sitting up facing him. “Honestly I’m just glad Emma hasn’t reported back to you on what I’ve said about you, I’d be done for”, you chuckled out of nervousness and try to push down the anxiety growing in my stomach, what I was saying was risky. Thankfully if this interaction went south I could play it off as a joke.

Enoch’s heart was so loud it thumped in his ears, feeling a new rush of anxiety go through him as you confirmed that you thought about him in a similar way. Trying to act nonchalant, he let out a scoff and leaned back against your bed frame more “And what have you been saying about me? That I’m annoying? Cocky? That I’m way too handsome for my own good..?” He added the last part, looking for confirmation that you found him attractive.

you moved so your top half was now laying over his outstretched legs, a small blush rising to your face as you looked into his eyes once more. “I mean…that last part isn’t to far off from what I’ve said” You smile looked back on the many memories you have of Emma and you in her room, you going on and on about your massive crush on Enoch and her ranting about her crush on Jake.

Enoch’s breath hitched at the feeling of your top half laying across his legs, a new rush of excitement going through him. He swallowed back any nerves he had and tried to act a little arrogant and cocky, “Good to know you think I’m attractive.” He smirked, his heart pounding hard in his chest still, he was terrified and excited at the same time.

Deciding to take this flirting a step further, you move my hand to his arms that are loosely crossed over his chest, tucking your frankly small hand to his between his arms and tug his right arm towards you. Moving his hand so he was now holding your face, almost completely unable to look away from his eyes and before you could think you said, “Do you think I’m attractive?”

Enoch’s breath stuttered in his chest, his hand holding your face still as he looked down at you, the sight of you looking up at him through your eyelashes sent a thrill through him. He tried to continue his cocky nonchalant tone. Trying not to focus on how close you were to him, “Do you even need to ask? You’re the prettiest girl here, of course I think you’re attractive.”

Your eyes went wide and your confident demeanor dissolved at his words. A bright red blush spreading over your neck, face, and tips of my ears, shifting your gaze away from his now not have to the guts to flirt with him so straightforward. Butterflies filled your stomach in excitement and nervousness.

“Thank you… That means a lot coming from the most attractive guy on the island…”, your voice was barely a whistle for the last part of what you said, almost all confidence lost from your body.

Enoch felt a rush of pride go through him at your words, the confident smile returning to his face almost instantly. He had always been told he was attractive by girls in the past but when you said it, it meant so much more to him. He felt his body relax as the confidence returned to him, the sight of you suddenly so shy and nervous making him feel more in control, “I know I am, it’s quite obvious actually.” He jokes, not being able to resist a chance to show off his cocky and arrogant side, you laugh and roll my eyes at his joke, you’d always loved his sense of humor, “Oh shut up before I kiss you.”

You’d said it without thinking, almost immediately regretted what you just said a bit. You’d had the urge to kiss him since he come into my room and sat on the bed, if you didn’t care about anything you’d be making out with him by now.

Enoch had been in the middle of some smart-ass reply but he froze at your comment, the thought of kissing you making his brain go totally blank. His eyes widened and his cheeks coloured a soft red at the thought of you kissing him and the image of you straddling his lap crossed his mind, making his heart flutter in his chest. He could no longer resist the urge to tease you.

“And what if I want you to kiss me?”

“Don’t tease me Enoch, It’s cruel” you said with tinge of nervousness lashing my voice, you hadn’t kissed anyone in about 2 years but god did you want to kiss him.

The desire in your voice did not go unnoticed by Enoch, setting of a new wave of emotions in his chest, he’d never heard you sound like that before and it made his heart beat faster than he thought possible. He continued to look into. Your eyes, seeing the mixture of nervousness and desire on your face and feeling it echoed in his own chest.

“Oh yeah? Then do it.”

He challenged, his voice getting gruffer and his accent getting thicker, watching your reaction to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. Without thinking you grabbed the collar of the sleep shirt he wore and pulled his face down to yours, your lips met and it felt like your body was lit on fire. Your lips fit perfectly together as you stayed there just savoring the moment for a while, your lips moving perfectly in sync.

Enoch let out a small sigh, his mind going blank as your lips met. Every thought was gone as you kissed. You lips against his felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, like something straight out of a fairytale. He pulled your face closer to his as he kissed you, wanting you to be close as possible to him, wanting to hold you as if he was afraid you’d disappear from him.

You parted for a second and moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. Kissing him again and his hands moved to your waist, a soft groan falling from your mouth and being muffled by his. You moved the hand that wasn’t holding his shirt collar to his hair, threading your fingers through it and feeling the inky black strands between your fingers.

Enoch groaned as you moved to sit in his lap, his hands grabbing onto your hips, his hands gripping at your skin, the feeling of you in his lap making him feel strangely feral. Feeling your fingers in his hair cause another sound to come from the back of his throat, his lips left yours as he started to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, you let out a small gasp and soft moan at the feeling of his lips on your neck, before you know it he’s sucking marks on to your skin. Your hands move to the back of his neck and head, playing with his hair as he leaves love bites and hickeys across your neck.

Feeling your hands in his hair, your nails digging into his skin and the small sounds falling from your lips made him feel like he was drowning but in the best possible way. The sound of you moaning his name quietly only encouraged him to keep sucking and biting your neck, all he wanted was to hear more of you.

Three hours go by, next thing you know you are both naked under the covers of your bed, sweaty, exhausted, and completely euphoric. The sun is starting to just peak out over the horizon and come through a small crack in the curtains, Enoch holding you to his chest and rubbing small circles on your back while you lay there as happy as can be, “Told you, you’re hopelessly in love with me. The feeling is mutual though so I can’t really joke about it too much”.

You giggle at your own words and lean up to give him a small kiss on they jaw, Enoch chuckles and rolls his eyes at your comment, his hand sliding up and down your back as he looked down at you laying on his chest. The events that had just happened in this room over the last couple hours still felt like a dream, the feeling of you in his arms just felt so surreal. He tightened his arms around your waist, “Please, you’ve been hopelessly in love with me for months.” He jokes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, you let out a laugh thinking about what would happen if Miss Peregrine walked in and saw the two of you like this.

“True I’ve been in love with you since we became friends. Oh god could you imagine if Miss Peregrine walked in right now? I think she’s spontaneously combust!” Laughing at the thought of her, she almost had a heart attack when we were just sitting on the bed talking about books, Enoch chuckled at the thought.

Miss Peregrine would have a field day if she walked in on us right now, the two of looking utterly disheveled and naked under the sheets. His hands continued to roam all over your back, never getting tired of the feeling of your skin under his hands, “She’d have me banned from your room in an instant. And we both know you’d never get a moments peace from all of her questions.”

“Oh good lord that’s true, she’d make me wear a fucking nuns dress for the rest of my life I bet. I’d still be too sexy for you to resist if she did though”, you say absolutely cracking up at the thought, you check the clock and see that we all have breakfast in an hour so Enoch should probably go back to his room to get fixed and look less like he just had sex for the last 3 hours.

Enoch laughs, thinking about Miss Peregrine’s reaction to finding out about the two of you together. The thought was equal parts hilarious and terrifying. His hands stopped roaming for a moment as he looked down at you, “I could never stop wanting you, no matter how ugly your clothes are” He teased before looking at the clock, groaning when he saw what time it was. “Damn. I’ve gotta get back to my room before everyone else starts waking up”.

You let out a long dramatic sigh as he gets out of bed, wishing he could stay for longer but knowing it wasn’t possible, “Ok love, I’ll see you at breakfast, I have to figure out how I’m going to cover all of these hickeys anyways.” You say groaning looking at my reflection in the small hand mirror you keep next to my bed, you had hickeys and bite marks from the top of my neck to my thighs “You’re so luck you’re hot or I would kick your ass right now, I’m so dead if anyone sees these”, you say laughing.

Enoch laughed as he watched you look at all the marks he’d left on you. The sight of you covered in love bites and hickeys that he’d given you, only made him want to climb right back into the bed and keep leaving them on you, “Oh I definitely know just how lucky I am when it comes to you. And to be fair I can’t blame myself when you look so damn good with my marks all over you”, he teased as he finished getting back into his clothes.

You blush at his comment, and then remember that you’d also left a hickey on his neck and he’d seemed to not notice it. He comes over and gives you a kiss on the forehead before kissing you on the lips and quietly leaving your room, giggling as you watch him leave before getting out of bed myself, putting on a comfortable knee length dark blue dress and trying to cover the hickeys on your neck with makeup.

Enoch quietly closes the door behind himself as he leaves and starts quickly walking back to his room, knowing that he needed to hurry and fix himself so he doesn’t risk being seen by anyone. The taste of you still on his lips, the sensation of you still burning on his skin. The walk back to his room felt like both the quickest and slowest walk he’d ever taken in his life. By the time he got back to his room he couldn’t help smile to himself as he remembered spending the last few hours with you.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?

we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her

agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)

NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)

sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything

agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"

she's truly embarrassing

you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking

a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.

oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.

agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.

the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)

what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?

you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.

ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?

idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.

and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!

sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency

there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.

it's the little steps.

heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.

another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.

with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.

why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.

in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.

(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)

and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.

the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'

agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.

I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.

she's like, faIR WArNiNG

ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.

she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE

and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.

AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!

Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.

Happy new year, everybody!

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 16

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

A/N: I might start being silly and include fake instagram posts for this fic, one of them included in this one. I just hope it shows up LOL. Of course, I can't find exact pics for the situations I need them for, so the pictures in the posts are just there for you to see the poses/style of the pics I have in mind, and you picture the cast + Isla for them.

“Now this is what I’m talkin’ about,” Cleo coos, the satisfied smile evident in her voice as she stretches on the chair, dark skin glowing under the sun.

Isla grins from her own chair, laying on her stomach with the sun on her back, mostly exposed thanks to her bikini, while she reads the latest Emily Henry book laying before her. Music plays from a speaker somewhere, burgers and hot dogs being cooked on the grill manned by John B, as the rest of them lay and laze around on the deck of The Druthers, Sarah’s dad’s yacht.

It’s not often they hang out at Sarah’s house, and even less so on Ward’s yacht. Most of their time is spent on The Cut, at the beach, the Chateau. It’s where they’re most comfortable together, as a group. But when it’s just them, with no one else disrupting them, moments like these where they can use the yacht and it just be their group, they take advantage of being on Figure Eight. The Cut is their side of the island, no doubt, but between Sarah’s, Isla and Kie’s homes being on Figure Eight, Cleo coming over all of the time for girls’ days, JJ and Pope making deliveries on Figure Eight for Heyward, and John B, of course, spending time at Sarah’s place, they all end up spending time on this side of the island, too.

Isla knows, though, some of her friends aren’t always totally comfortable being here, since The Cut is what they truly know. Sometimes, if they’re feeling particularly stubborn—especially JJ—it’s like pulling teeth trying to get them to hang out somewhere on Figure Eight, or even just Sarah’s house. And Isla gets it; Kooks are assholes and when they see outsiders—or Pogues—they get all righteous and pick fights. Isla knows that Pogues can sometimes be just as bad over on The Cut, but at the same time, no one really kicks out the Kooks when they crash Pogue parties. So Isla can’t really blame her friends for not coming to Figure Eight if they don’t have to. It feels too Kook-like, according to JJ, and Isla agrees sometimes.

But today is an exception. It’s a beautiful day and Sarah had asked Ward if they could use the Druthers; not to take it out or anything, but leave it sitting at the Camerons’ dock while the Pogues hung out on it, grilling food and drinking, ahem, responsibly. 

They wanted to just have a chill hang out following JJ quitting his job, even though he didn’t want to be in Kooklandia. But Sarah had given him puppy dog eyes and Kie had smiled flirtatiously, and so he had joined them on the yacht, too. Plus, with enough beers and a few hits of the joint Kie had rolled, JJ has mellowed out.

Kie hasn’t said if anything happened between her and JJ when she left the yacht club with him, despite Isla questioning her. Isla hopes that her sister would tell her if something did happen, but that hope itself seems a little hypocritical, coming from her. So, Isla doesn’t push.

“How much longer on the food, John B?” Kie asks where she sits on the cushioned bench stretching along one side of the deck. She plucks the strings of her ukelele, playing the tune of the Arctic Monkeys song playing through the speakers.

“Two minutes,” John B calls back, waving at the smoke rising from the grill. Next to him, Pope had sliced tomatoes and pulled lettuce leaves, and is now slathering mayonnaise on the burger buns. They both stand shirtless in just swimming trunks, though John B wears a Kiss the Cook apron that Sarah gave him to shield his bare chest from potential oil splatters. 

Before lunch is served, Isla places a bookmark in her book before getting up, heading inside the lodge to go to the bathroom. She sees Wheezie on the couch, laying comfortably and seemingly playing a game on her phone. She had asked to hang out on the yacht with them today, and since they all like Wheezie, there was no reason not to invite her.

After Isla quickly uses the bathroom, she walks back out and smiles at the youngest Cameron. “How’s it going, Wheezie? Why’re you sitting in here?” Isla asks, sitting at the end of the L-shaped couch to face Wheezie laying on the other end.

“I get burnt too easily, no matter what kind of sunblock I use,” Wheezie says as she sits up, back resting against the arm rest.

“Well, the food is about to be done,” Isla says, glancing over her shoulder out the sliding glass doors. Looking back at Wheezie, she grins teasingly. “Want me to bring your food in here for you?”

Wheezie rolls her eyes, but she grins. “I think I’ll survive.”

Isla laughs as her gaze shifts, catching sight of the few beaded bracelets Wheezie wears on her wrist. Isla’s smile turns softer, Rafe’s face flashing through her mind. She drags her teeth across her bottom lip before commenting, “I like your bracelets. They’re pretty.”

“Oh, thanks,” Wheezie smiles, raising her wrist to give it a little shake of her bracelets.

“You make them yourself?” Isla asks, despite knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Wheezie answers, pushing up her glasses. “I have a huge bead collection. I even sell them online sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Isla grins, eyebrows rising. “Can you make me one? I’ll pay,” she adds, wiggling her eyebrows.

“First one’s free for friends,” Wheezie replies, which only widens Isla’s grin.

Just then, John B’s voice calls out, “Food’s ready! Come and get it!”

As she and Wheezie get up, the younger girl asks, “I have, like, a crap-ton of colored beads and different shaped beads, like stars and hearts, stuff like that. Is there anything you want specifically?”

Isla considers for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. Rafe’s eyes flicker through her mind. “Baby blue beads, if you have them? And heart beads.”

Wheezie nods a couple of times. “I can do that!”

“Thanks, Wheezie,” Isla smiles as they step back out onto the deck, catching sight of her friends gathering towards the food.

Isla helps herself to a burger, piling on some lettuce and slices of tomatoes before stepping over to the cooler to grab a drink. Except when she opens it, her eyebrows furrow together. “Hey,” she calls over her shoulder. “Where are the sodas?”

“No sodas!” JJ shouts where he sits towards the front, raising his can of beer. She doesn’t need to see his eyes, which are shielded by sunglasses, to know he’s drunk as she catches sight of that lazy grin on his face. “Beer day only! You think Kooks drink Coke or water when they’re chilling on their yacht?” he snorts, patting the ledge of the boat.

“Seriously?” Isla groans. She’s already one beer in and isn’t particularly in the mood for another. “There was supposed to be water in here, too.”

“Come on, man,” Pope sighs in exasperation towards JJ, hand resting on the top of his cap.

Isla puts her plate down, taking another paper plate to cover her food from potential flies or bugs. “I’m gonna get the drinks,” she says, huffing out a breath as she reaches for her denim shorts and pulls them on. She knows the soda cans and water bottles are in the fridge at the house.

“I can go,” Pope says. “It’ll be heavy.”

Isla scoffs, throwing him a look. “I’ve lifted heavier shit at the restaurant,” she reminds him in a deadpan tone, pocketing her phone. She squints at the length of the dock leading to the Cameron estate, cracking a smile. “I’ll be back in ten.”

She walks off the Druthers and begins the trek down the dock. The music from the yacht grows more and more distant as she walks further down the dock, pulling out her phone and going to her texts.

To: Rafe

you back home yet?

Four steps later, his response comes in.

From: Rafe

Yeah, just got back in. You guys still on the Druthers?

To: Rafe

yeah but i’m coming into the house to get some drinks

From: Rafe

Thought you guys would be stacked up on alcohol

To: Rafe

alcohol, yes. but we need water and sodas too lol

She pockets her phone, getting off the dock and approaching the back glass doors of the house and walking inside. Isla hears someone moving around in the kitchen and when she walks in, she grins at the sight of Rafe. He’s in the process of making a protein shake, it looks like, dressed in gray pants with a light blue button down tucked in, sleeves rolled to the elbows. 

Isla bites her smiling bottom lip, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall on her side as she watches him. She knows he’s just coming back from some meetings that he sits in on with his dad, already having a place in Ward’s company for him to one day take over. Rafe’s watch shines on his wrist and her smile widens when she sees one of the beaded bracelets on his other wrist, the beads dark in color.

“Hi there,” she greets, catching his attention right when he puts the lid on the blender.

Rafe looks up, gaze finding hers and a smile instantly finding his face. It makes her heart flutter, how quickly the smile appears when he looks at her. It lights up his entire handsome face, his feelings so evident, and a comforting fire spreads through Isla—to know she’s the reason for that smile.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says, blue eyes dipping down the length of her, her skin electrifying with delicious awareness everywhere his gaze touches. He rolls his bottom lip into his mouth as she walks over, and Rafe nods towards the box of Coca-Cola and some water bottles sitting on the counter. “Got your drinks out for you.”

“Why, thank you.” The corners of her lips dip downwards in a teasing grin, cheek turning into the shoulder she lifts. “You—” Her hand reaches forward to hook a finger through his belt loop, closing the gap between them while tilting her head back to smile at him as he looks down at her, eyebrows raised. “Look ridiculously handsome.”

It’s unfair how nicely the button down stretches across his broad chest and shoulders, strong forearms shown off with how the sleeves are rolled up. “Oh, yeah?” Rafe murmurs, his one hand leaning against the counter while the other slides up her long dark hair, threading through the strands before his hand cups the back of her head. He applies just the slightest bit of pressure to pull her head back while dipping his head, Isla’s eyes fluttering shut when his lips press to her smiling ones.

She hums into the kiss, chest against his torso and lips parting against his. “Mm, I can’t stay for long,” she murmurs, laughing breathlessly as Rafe trails kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Her head tilts back, eyelashes fluttering in response to his lips working along her neck, a breath shuddering out of her. “Rafe, your parents—”

“Dad and Rose are at work,” he tells her. Isla’s thighs clench when his teeth graze against her skin.

“Okay, but don’t—” Isla laughs when he teasingly, lightly, nips at her and her hands press to his chest. “Do not leave any marks.”

Rafe groans. “Boring,” he says, but when he pulls back he’s grinning. His hands shift so he’s cupping her cheeks, thumbs lightly digging into the dents of her dimples when she grins up at him. “Your cheeks are flushed,” he comments with a chuckle.

Isla hums. “Hot day. Are you going back to work?”

Rafe nods. “Yeah, got an hour and a half to kill though,” he tells her with a meaningful raise of his eyebrows.

“Oh-ho, don’t look at me,” Isla laughs, shaking her head. “I gotta get back to the others.”

But Rafe wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her to him with a burgeoning grin. “I’m sure you have some time to kill,” he muses, and Isla yelps in surprise, hands gripping Rafe’s shoulders, as he lifts her and sits her on the counter, the cool marble chilling the bare skin of her thighs. He kisses her again, hands sliding down her sides, teasing the band of her shorts. “We can be quick,” he says, each word emphasized by a kiss as his fingers brush over the button and zipper of her shorts, but he doesn’t go any further. “Hmm?”

He pulls back to look at her questioningly, but Isla chases his kisses, making him grin knowingly, and she groans because of course she can’t say no to him. “We really will have to be quick,” she says breathlessly, heart thumping at the thrill of anticipation.

Rafe’s smirk is wicked and eager, fingers working to undo her short’s button and zipper. And it’s risky—oh, it’s so risky, but cautious is thrown out the window the second Rafe tugs her shorts off, taking them off all the way and dropping them to the floor. Isla kisses him again, eager to feel the softness of his lips and taste him, as she feels his fingers work at the bows on one side at her hip of her bikini bottom, undoing it to pull it off.

His kisses trail down her jaw, her neck, and Isla’s head tilts back as his lips travel down her sternum, her stomach as he pulls her closer to the edge of the counter before he drops down. Isla’s heart is thunderously in her chest, lips parted as she watches Rafe part her legs further, an eager gleam in his eyes that meet hers as his tongue licks a stripe up her center.

“Oh—God,” Isla shudders, one hand finding the back of his head and the other gripping the edge of the counter, watching and feeling as he licks at her. Electricity shoots through her veins, watching her boyfriend who is dressed up the way he is, as he eats her like she’s his last damn meal, holding back nothing.

Isla’s breaths come out sharply, a moan escaping when Rafe’s teeth graze her clit, the moan becoming a cry when he sucks her clit into his mouth, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs before his tongue does something—alternating from fluttering and fucking her, making Isla throw her head back as stars begin to dot her closed lids. Her fingers tighten in his hair, no doubt messing it up, but neither of them seem to care as her hips start moving at their own accord, her breaths coming out like whimpers as she looks down at Rafe, watching him lick and kiss and suck at her.

He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, which only makes her skin fire up more, desire and exhilaration and the slight alarm of potentially getting caught mix together to make her head spin even more. Over the thundering of her heart, Isla can hear the crude sounds of him eating her out, sucking at her lips and tongue licking into her. Rafe knows exactly what to do, showing just as much attention to her clit, and it’s enough for Isla to feel that familiar tensing, electrifying sensation low in her abdomen.

“Oh, God, Rafe—I can’t—I’m gonna—Please.”

Rafe hums against her, giving her clit a slow, wicked suck, and Isla is falling apart with a sharp cry of his name. White flashes across her closed eyes as her climax wracks through her, shaking as Rafe lets her ride through it on his tongue, taking in whatever she can give him.

She’s seconds away from collapsing on her back on the counter—oh, she can’t believe they just did that on the Camerons’ kitchen counter—but Rafe’s arm is around her waist, holding her up as he rises to his feet. When Isla looks at him, trying to catch her breath, a smirk dances on his lips, sinfully shining, as his hand presses to the small of her back, his skin hot against hers.

“Look at that,” Rafe muses cockily as Isla’s slightly widened eyes meet his. “Knew you’d be a good girl.”

Isla exhales sharply, her racing heart only just beginning to settle. “You’re crazy,” she remarks. “And a menace.”

He grins shamelessly. “You like it, though.”

She shakes her head, but smiles nonetheless with heat in her cheeks as Rafe gets some paper towels and helps her clean up. When he helps her off the counter, Isla’s knees shake only a little bit, but she’s able to stand as Rafe ties the strings of her bikini bottoms against her hip. “I can’t believe we just did that,” Isla whispers, hands on her warm cheeks as she watches Rafe tie a cute little bow before he bends to grab her shorts. “On your kitchen counter.”

“It’s no big deal, Isla,” he tells her with a light chuckle, holding her shorts up by the band for her to step into. 

“Your family cooks and eats here!” Isla hisses, one hand on his shoulder to keep her balance as she puts her right foot into the shorts and then the left. “I mean, that’s—”

“Baby, baby, stop worrying,” Rafe cuts in with a gentle laugh, buttoning and zipping her shorts before cupping her cheeks. Despite her mild freak out, she’s more than a little endeared that he practically dressed her after making her see stars. Chivalry isn’t dead, afterall. “I’ll clean up, if that helps.”

Isla’s eyes widen. “You better,” she says before reaching for the long box of Coke cans. “I gotta get back before they start asking questions.”

He nods to the water bottles. “Let me get you a bag for those.” He opens one of the lower cabinets and pulls out a plastic bag, putting the water bottles in there before handing her the bag. “You sure you don’t need help?”

Isla smiles, stepping over to him. “I’ll be fine, babe,” she says, rising on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll call you later?”

Rafe grins. “Looking forward to it.”

*****

The yard of the Chateau, with the view of the water, looks gorgeous.

Under Sarah’s leadership, the girls had transformed the outdoor space into a pretty, Pinterest-inspired dinner area. Isla and Kie had borrowed their dad’s pick up truck and used it to bring the bigger supplies, like folding tables and extra chairs. The sunset makes the sky bleed orange into red, reflecting off the water, and the fairy lights that are stretched along above them and tied around the trees and back porch pillars add a fantasy-like glow. 

The tables, just two and big enough to fit all seven of them, are covered with a rustic linen tablecloth that will probably get stained by the time dinner is over. There are two cute centerpieces of vases stocked with wildflowers that Isla had picked. The girls all each cooked multiple things—especially given there will be three teenage guys with them who can each eat two people’s worth of food. There’s lasagna, chicken pot pie, Cleo’s famous sandwiches, stuffed peppers, garlic bread. Not to mention the other bits of dessert to go with the birthday cake. Over the screened in porch, facing their set up, a custom made Happy Birthday John B! banner hung, along with balloons tied to the tops of their chairs.

“Okay, Pope just texted,” Cleo announces, her phone screen lighting up her face. “They’re ten minutes out!”

“Okay, okay,” Sarah rushes and Isla smiles in amusement because her friend almost resembles a headless chicken. But she looks pretty, unsurprisingly, in a pale yellow summer dress and sandals, hair in loose waves with the front braided back. “We’ve got everything, right?” she asks, her eyes critically looking over the table set up.

Kie nods, brushing away a fallen leaf from the table. “Good to go, dude,” she confirms, grinning excitedly.

They go inside the house and begin bringing the food out, which they made sure is warm and set it out on the table, though they don’t take off the lids or Seran wrap off the top of the dishes so flies or bugs don’t get into the food. Soda and beer bottles are also brought out and Isla bites back a smile as she watches Sarah needlessly—and nervously—straighten out the utensils placed by the plates.

“We’re good, right? This is good?” Sarah asks, looking around.

“Would you calm down?” Isla laughs, walking over and gripping Sarah’s shoulders from behind before hugging her. “John B’s gonna love it.”

Sarah’s nervousness is only a sign of how much she loves John B, and this is totally not the right time or circumstance to suddenly feel the dull ache of yearning deep in Isla’s chest as she thinks of Rafe. It’s accompanied by the sharp sting of jealousy that comes with witnessing her friends be so openly in love and together, while Isla feels as though she can’t share the beginning bloom of her new relationship with Rafe.

Maybe cowardice is holding her back. No matter when or how Isla tells her friends, she knows that their reactions are not going to be good. The guys and Rafe, with his friends, have gotten into plenty of fights and spats over the years, and Isla isn’t sure her friends are willing to move past that. Part of her worries that Rafe could spend the next few years being civil and, hell, even nice to them without their relationship being revealed, and it would still take a while for her friends not to hate him. Sarah would be the easiest to win over, Isla figures, because her relationship with Rafe has gotten better over the last couple of years.

But the Pogue versus Kook mentality that smothers their island is the root of the resentment between them. Perhaps it’s a bit delusional, but Isla hopes that if she can see Rafe has changed, that he’s a better person than the asshole who used to get into fights with JJ, John B, and Pope, then her friends can see it, too. They would just have to get past, well, the past. And that, she fears, isn’t going to be easy.

“What’s with all the lights?” Isla hears John B’s voice, and she pulls out of her thoughts quickly enough to join the others in exclaiming, “Surprise!”

She sees John B’s eyes widen, hands up in front of him as he says, “Oh, shit,” while a grin grows on his face as he looks at them all with shock lighting up his eyes. “What?” He laughs as JJ grabs his shoulders and gives him a shake, grinning, while Pope steals a page out of JJ’s books and gives John B a noogie.

“Happy birthday, John B,” Sarah smiles, walking over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. His arms instantly wind around her waist, and Kie whistles when the two of them share a kiss. When they pull back, Sarah’s smile widens. “Hope you’re ready to eat,” she says, fingers interlacing with his as she pulls him towards the tables.

She lets go of his hand long enough for the rest of them to step in, and Isla grins at her friend as she wraps her arms around him. “Happy birthday, buddy,” she murmurs, giving him a squeeze that he returns. “Feeling old yet?” she laughs as they pull away, patting his shoulder. 

John B’s grin is wide and smug. “Nineteen and never felt younger,” he chuckles, hooking his arm around her neck before they all make their way to the tables. John B lets out a laugh, rubbing his hands together as he says, “Guys, this looks amazing.” To JJ and Pope, he smirks. “No wonder you boys kept me out all day.”

JJ grins, tipping an imaginary hat to Sarah. “We were under strict orders,” he says with a wink as they all sit down.

John B sits at the head, Sarah to his right with Isla next to her and Kie on the other side of Isla. JJ sits to John B’s left, and Pope and Cleo are opposite of Isla and Kie. Among the dishes, there are two three-wick candles adding to the ambiance provided by the fairy lights. “Wow,” John B says again when he sits, smiling in awe as he observes the spread in front of him. “You guys went all out, huh?”

Pope shoots him a grin. “Anything for you, Grandpa,” he says, everyone’s laughter ringing when John B throws him a feigned glare at the knock at his age. Comes with the territory when he’s the oldest of their group.

“Let’s eat!” Sarah says, gesturing for everyone to begin helping themselves.

Their chatter fills the air, along with the clinking of utensils against plates as they serve themselves, piling up their plates with the home cooked dishes. Cleo, having hooked up her phone to the Bluetooth speaker sitting at the base of the tree nearby, plays music in the background, not too loud to overpower their conversation but enough to add to the atmosphere. Dishes are passed back and forth, drinks are poured, and smiles are ever present as the seven of them get lost in this small world they’ve built for themselves. 

The guys regale their adventures from today, which was really just an average day in OBX for them. Out on the boat, fishing, surfing, their usual activities that they never get tired of. It’s why John B didn’t suspect the surprise dinner because nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Isla knows that Sarah also has a romantic dinner planned with him tomorrow, but she wanted all of them to spend his actual birthday together, as a family.

And that’s exactly what they do, constant laughter ringing out in between eating and drinking and taking pictures for their memories. “Yo, we should do these more,” John B comments at one point, reaching for his glass. “Like, these family dinners,” he clarifies, gesturing to the table with the glass and a smile.

Cleo points a fork at him, arching an eyebrow. “You say that now because you and the boys did none of the cooking,” she points out.

Isla snaps her fingers, nodding. “Exactly.”

“Next time, y’all are cooking,” Kie says, raising her eyebrow at all three of the guys. 

“You trust us in the kitchen?” JJ grins at her, leaning back in his chair with an arm thrown over the back of Pope’s chair. Isla doesn’t miss the way JJ is looking at Kie, a dimple in his cheek and his blue eyes glinting with something far more than something that can be clocked under the guise of a platonic relationship. 

Isla rolls her smiling lips into her mouth, hiding it behind the rim of her glass as she sips the Coke. Her gaze flicks to her left, catching Sarah’s own knowing, smiling gaze. On the other side of Isla, Kie snorts out a laugh. “I’m sure you boys are capable,” she muses and oh, man, those two are definitely flirting, whether they realize it or not.

Now Isla is really wondering if something did happen between Kie and JJ, and her sister just hasn’t told her about it. 

When they finish eating dinner, they all take the time to take some pictures before Sarah heads inside. She’s only gone for a few minutes, but Isla sees John B’s gaze constantly going to the house, like he’s looking out for her. It makes Isla smile, even as her phone vibrates and she checks to see a text from Sarah.

From: Sarah👸🏼🩵

coming!!!!

Isla thumbs up the message and goes on her phone’s camera, getting to her feet and wiggling her eyebrows at John B’s questioning look right as the backdoor opens and Sarah walks out. “Happy birthday to you. . .” She starts singing with a laugh, and with Isla recording, the rest of them join in on the singing as Sarah walks towards John B, holding the cake with two candles, reading 19, are lit on top and make Sarah’s smiling face glow.

The group of them sing happy birthday to John B as he laughs, delight lighting up his face as Sarah puts the cake in front of him on the table, her smile wide as JJ hands him a knife to cut the cake. “Cut it, old man!” JJ says over the rest of their cheering.

Isla records John B blowing out the candles before he cuts the cake, Sarah standing next to him with her hands pressed together after clapping, pressed against her smiling lips as she watches John B cut the cake. He takes a slice, then, and offers it to Sarah, and Isla and Kie whistle as he feeds it to her. And Isla is so glad she has that video to play it at their inevitable wedding, where they recreate that very moment with their wedding cake. Isla can already, so easily, picture it as she posts one of the photos they took tonight on Instagram.

“Alright, alright, step aside,” Pope says once they’ve finished, taking the knife from John B. “I’ll cut.”

Cleo slides up next to him. “I’ll give it out,” she says, grabbing the pile of small plates.

They get to work, with Pope cutting slices and placing them on plates, which Cleo hands to the rest of them. When Isla notes that JJ is occupied with Sarah and John B, she quickly but casually makes her way to where Kie is cleaning up more of the table and bringing dishes inside. Isla grabs the lasagna dish and hurries after her sister into the house, and Kie glances at her over her shoulder.

“What’s up?” she asks as they enter the kitchen, as though she knows Isla is after something.

“Come on, be honest,” Isla starts, placing the dish on the counter. “Did something happen between you and JJ the other day?”

Kie presses her lips together as she places the pile of dirty plates in the sink. With her back to Isla, her shoulders seem tense, bracing her hands against the counter before she slowly turns to face Isla. Isla, on the other hand, is watching her with eyes slightly widened with anticipation, biting back the urge to yell I knew it! before Kie even has had the chance to say anything.

“We’re going on a date,” Kie slowly says, lips twitching as though she is struggling not to smile.

But Isla’s jaw has dropped, eyes even wider as she stares at her sister in disbelief. So many thoughts run through her head in response to Kie’s words, her pulse racing in excitement, but the first thing she blurts out is, “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Shh! Keep your voice down,” Kie hisses, widening her eyes as she walks towards Isla. “We didn’t wanna say anything to anyone until, you know, after. We don’t wanna bring any attention to it because we kind of just wanna see for ourselves, you know, if anything is there.”

Isla scoffs, forehead creasing as she shoots Kie a really? look. “There’s something definitely there,” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world—because it is.

Kie rolls her eyes before letting out a breath, her shoulders sinking. Her expression shifts, then, and Isla recognizes the guilt that softens her dark eyes, the downwards tilt of her lips. “I know I should have told you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” Isla’s lips part, but Kie’s hands suddenly find Isla’s, cutting Isla off. “You’re my sister and, y’know, we tell each other all the shit. You’ve been trying to get me to open up to JJ about my feelings and I finally took your advice, and you’re the first person I should’ve told instead of keeping you in the dark.”

Isla can’t lie—the second Kie had told her about going on a date with JJ, Isla had felt a pang of hurt that Kie hadn’t said a word. That she had purposefully kept it a secret even when Isla questioned her about it earlier. Except. . . That’s hypocritical of her, isn’t it? Isla can’t truly, genuinely, be angry with Kie about this when she is keeping an even bigger secret about her own love life.

So whatever guilt Kie is feeling right now, Isla suddenly gets wracked with it tenfold, her throat drying and stomach bottoming out at the expression Kie wears. At this moment, Isla so badly wants to come clean. She wants to tell her sister about her own love life—her boyfriend. And yet, Isla doesn’t feel ready, and she doesn’t think Kie and their friends are ready to hear it, either. Never mind that it’s John B’s birthday and Isla doesn’t want to take the attention away from her friend and his day. 

That doesn’t stop her stomach from twisting, though, or feeling her skin prickle with guilt as Kie holds her hands. Kie’s secret with JJ is nothing in comparison to what Isla is hiding from everyone.

“Hey, no, stop,” Isla says with a shake of her head, forcing out a laugh through her bone dry throat. She squeezes Kie’s hands reassuringly. “I’m not upset, alright? I get it. You didn’t have to tell me anything until you were ready to.”

Kie blinks a few times, still looking worried. “Are you sure? Because, like, I know we don’t keep that many secrets from each other, if we even do, you know? I just—”

“Kiara,” Isla says, and the use of her full name has Kie pausing. Resisting the urge to swallow the guilt-laden lump in her throat, Isla smiles again. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad you and JJ finally got your heads out of your asses,” she adds playfully, trying to lighten the burden on her chest. It only works a little when Kie laughs.

“Yeah, me too,” she smiles, nodding. To Isla’s surprise, Kie pulls her in for a hug, her arms tight. “Thanks for talking some sense into me about JJ.”

With her chin resting on Kie’s shoulder, Isla’s expression falls and her eyes squeeze shut, feeling like an absolute ass for the hypocrisy that tightens her stomach. Especially with Kie mentioning the lack of secrets between them, which has always been true—except this time. Isla tries reassuring herself that it’s for good reason, that Kie and everyone else aren’t ready to hear the truth that they don’t know even exists. 

Still, with her eyes squeezing shut, Isla pushes back the burning sensation. “Anytime,” she responds to Kie.

Thankfully, her sister doesn’t notice the way Isla’s voice has become hoarse with guilt in just that one word answer.

-----

taglist: @talkfastromance4 @you-got-me-starry-eyed @invisiblexcth @freshsturniolo346 @theafournier97 @danismyth04 @perfectprettypisces @pameluuu @melsbels-zip @gabrielapereze11 @katieeeeb @diary-of-jj @cenzie811148 @hangmanscoming

[thatfandomslut]

Puppy Love

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: there is so much fluff in here that it's crazy, also a puppy is in here so prepare your hearts for a lot of love

Request:

Can I request a Regina George x Fem!reader for Renee rapp? Please anything I'm like in a dry desert with no water, please feed the homosexuals. Thanks so much!

Mean Girls requests are open.

Regina narrowed her eyes at the puppy that was taking (Y/n)'s attention. It was a golden retriever puppy that (Y/n) named Apollo. He was cute, and Regina could admit that. However, it sucked (Y/n)'s attention away entirely from her and to this dog. Regina knew this jealousy was petty and dumb, but Apollo was becoming a problem for Regina. For example, just moments before now, she and (Y/n) had been making out, but when Apollo came crying to the door, scratching on it, (Y/n) was up in seconds. Now, instead of (Y/n) holding her close, she was cradling a puppy who would never truly appreciate her.

"Wait," Cady said, formulating everything Regina was telling the group. (Y/n) hadn't joined them yet because she was too busy showing one of their classmates pictures she had taken of Apollo. "So, let me get this straight. You are jealous of Apollo? Her incredibly adorable golden retriever puppy? I'm not sure I understand why."

Regina's eyes narrowed at Cady when she said this, causing Cady's eyes to look anywhere but towards Regina. Even if the clique system had officially been brought down by the exposure of the Burn Book, Regina was scary. "You don't understand, Cady. I have lost a lot of make-out time because he will come pawing at the door. When we study at her place, it turns into a session where I study and she plays with Apollo. He's not even that cute." Regina stuck up her nose, knowing what she was saying was out of anger. She knew that Apollo was incredibly cute, and at first, so were all of (Y/n)'s interactions with him.

(Y/n) approached the group with a wide smile on her face, kissing Regina's cheek as she sat down. "Hey, everyone," she greeted, not catching on to how everyone but Regina avoided her eye. A tell-tell sign that they were talking about her, but (Y/n) was absolutely oblivious. "Does anyone want to see this video I got of Apollo at his puppy training class yesterday? The teacher said he was her best student. She said he was 'paw-some.'" (Y/n) said with a bright smile, not noticing Regina roll her eyes. Cady was the first to look over, excited to see Apollo, Karen followed, and then the rest of the group was awe-ing over how cute Apollo was. Regina was seething.

"Are you still coming over, princess?" (Y/n) looked over at Regina with a smile, but it quickly dropped when she saw Regina's expression. She looked sour as she stared at her now cold cheese fries in front of her. (Y/n) was trying to figure out if she had that same expression when she sat down earlier, or if she had just missed it. She was hoping that whatever it was, Regina wasn't mad at her. "Hey, Regina, what's wrong, babe? You look upset about something. Is there anything I can help with?"

Regina resisted the urge to say anything that she might regret late. Instead, she kissed (Y/n) with a soft smile. "No, love, just thinking. I'll definitely get over it though. Yes, I will see you later today." Regina promised, and the group looked around at each other quietly. The bell rang, and the group split up. Regina had dropped (Y/n) off at her class, and then she went with Gretchen to their shared math class. "I should've said, the problem is she loves her dog more than me," Regina grumbled to Gretchen, who decided it was best to say nothing. She didn't want to contribute to Regina's anger.

After school, (Y/n) was playing with Regina's hair when she heard the familiar pawing at her door. "There's Apollo, I'm going to let him in." (Y/n) kissed her girlfriend before letting the puppy in. "I'm going to use the bathroom fast, too. Do you think you can watch him?" (Y/n) questioned as she brought the dog over to Regina. The puppy squirmed excitedly as he was placed in front of Regina, running up to her and licking her on the face. (Y/n) patted his head before taking her momentary leave.

"Stop it, stop it," Regina held Apollo away from her as she examined him with a sneer. Letting out a little bark, he attempted to lick Regina again, even if he was at a far distance. Regina didn't realize at first that she smiled at that, but when she did; she looked around quickly to make sure nobody witnessed it. She let go of Apollo and the puppy came bounding over to her, curling up to her side as he allowed her to scratch behind his ear. "Okay, I think I'm starting to get it now… You are kind of cute, I guess."

(Y/n) grinned when she came back to the room, happy to see Regina finally warming up to her puppy. She knew she was struggling to share the attention when she came over, but puppies need a lot of attention, too. "Look at these two cuties," she took a picture before lying beside Regina, Apollo resting in the middle. "I'm glad you seem to like him. I thought you couldn't stand him. I was beginning to get worried you might be jealous of him or something." (Y/n) said, addressing how she would never want to make Regina feel that way,

Regina shook her head, hiding the lie between her teeth. "What, no? I was never jealous of Apollo, He's a cute puppy." Regina said simply, hoping she didn't give herself away too easily.

Her comment made (Y/n)'s brow raise, but she said nothing, not wanting to accuse Regina of not telling the truth. Instead, she planted a kiss on Regina's lips. "And you are my cute girlfriend. I love that you love Apollo." (Y/n) said happily, snuggling Regina and Apollo. She couldn't wait to make that picture of Regina snuggled up to Apollo her screensaver later.

[vivwritesfics]

Norris Reader and Carlos together but Norris gets jealous cause he thinks Carlos is taking up his time with his twin and he never gets to see her. Lando jealous of Carlos

from this ask, I'm guessing the reader is Lando's twin? I can work with that (and if this isn't what you meant, just send over another ask and I'll do it again)

Y/N's phone background used to be her sat on her little sisters horse, Flo holding the reins as she walked her around the arena. And then it was her in Lando's racing overalls. And then it was she and Lando stood together, wearing the same short, sparkly dress. Lando looked miserable while Y/N couldn't hold back her grin.

And now her phone background was her boyfriend. Laying in the sun with his dog laying on his chest while he looked at the camera. It was one of Y/N's favourite pictures, but her other favourite picture wouldn't be an appropriate phone background.

On the grid, Y/N used to follow Lando around like a lost puppy. She'd spent years going with her brothers and parents karting events, and, thought she wasn't karting herself, Y/N fell in love with it. She knew she wanted to work in the motorsport industry.

Y/N was at university when Lando got signed for McLaren. She took some time out and followed him for his first season, meeting the McLaren team and getting herself an internship. She didn't drop out of university, instead going on a placement year to complete her internship.

Her internship with McLaren meant she got to spend time with the McLaren drivers. One was her brother; she could see him any time, but the other? Well, sexy spanish men did something to her.

It was just before Carlos signed with Ferrari that they had their first date. Now they lived together.

Lando didn't mind his sister being in love with his best friend. They were cute together, even if Lando did pull a face whenever Carlos kissed her or wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her ass. But he rarely got to see her now and, although he'd never admit it, he missed her.

Y/N had spent the entirety of winter break in Spain, spending time with her husband to be. She was meant to go home, but then Carlos had proposed and... well they didn't leave their bed for a few days. The couple wanted to be around nobody but each other, and, although her family missed her, they accepted it.

But when Y/N and Lando returned to the paddock, Lando couldn't stop himself from saying something. "I rarely get to see you," he said to Y/N as she worked, still for McLaren. "I mean, you didn't even come home for Christmas - you always come home for Christmas!"

"Sorry, Lan," she muttered as she scribbled in her notebook. "But something happened," she held up her hand, showing off the ring to Lando.

Lando who immediately grabbed her hand for a closer look. "No fucking way!" He said, touching the stone. "Carlos actually proposed?! And you didn't tell any of us?!"

"Well, no, I told mum. And I told dad. And Flo, Cisca and Oliver."

"So, everyone but me?"

"Pretty much," she answered, pulling hand away from him.

Lando let out a huff. "So, now that you're engaged, I can't say anything to Carlos about stealing you from us?"

"He's part of the family now, Lan." She lifted her note book. "You have to play nice." With every word she gently hit his head with the notebook.

Lando scowled. And maybe fought Carlos on track. It was just hazing, the sort of thing a big brother did for his little sister (even if he was only a few minutes older).