#but like girl we don’t like each other and we know that…. why would you invite me to your wedding….

[mulloey]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

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warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[pitchsidestories]

look at us now II Renée Slegers x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2689

summary: former lovers reunite at Arsenal.

author's note: hi, our first Renée Slegers fanfic, let us know your thoughts on it. As always this is purely fiction, enjoy. 🤍❤️

image sources

 “So, you hired another assistant coach without telling me?”, Renée asked incredulously, well aware that except for her, the room was full of very important looking men.

One of them nodded sternly: “You needed another one. We made the decision for you.”

Renée closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to protest. She was Arsenals new head coach after all.

With forced calmness, she asked: “Who is it?”

“You know her already.”

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She opened her mouth in order to ask what that was about to mean when you finally made your appearance. You had waited all morning in anticipation to surprise your former teammate with your presence.

“Hello Renée.”, you greeted her as you walked into the room.

Recognition flashed across her face, followed by genuine excitement. She got up from her chair, beaming: “You!”

Before you knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a way too tight hug.

“Yes, it’s me. Don’t strangle me, please! That would be sad first last workday at the Arsenal.”, you laughed.

“You’re so stupid! I missed you so much.”, Renée giggled but finally let go of you.

For a second, you stood there and took each other in and it almost felt like nothing had changed since you played together in Sweden.

“I missed you too but now every player and staff member are staring at us which is kind of awkward.”, you admitted, nodding towards the door where the first pairs of eyes tried to figure out who the newest addition to the team was.

“They’re just curious about you. Let me introduce you.”, Renée suggested, leading you out of the conference room.

You followed patiently.

“Renée, who’s that girl you almost couldn’t let go of?”, Beth asked, blinking innocently at you.

“That’s y/n. She’s the new assistant coach and we used to play together for Linköpings.”, Renée explained. You didn’t miss the slight hint of pride in her voice.

Your eyes found another Swede between the players.

“Actually, I played with Stina too.”, you added.

The striker smiled at you: “Good to see you again.”

“You too. And I can’t wait to get to know each of you.”, you said towards the crowd.

Renée turned to you: “You will love them.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Suddenly, your hand was in Renées as she dragged with her towards the football pitches. You could still feel the eyes of your new players on you as you followed Renée.

The eyes of Stina's teammates were expectantly drawn to her once the two of you had left the room.

An edgy laugh escaped the blonde’s lips: “What? Why are you all looking at me now?”

“Tell us!”, Beth commanded grinning.

The Swedish striker began to play nervously with her blonde hair: “Well what do you want to know?”

“About our new staff member and Renée of course!”, Leah replied thrilled.

Using the same excited tone as her, Beth added: “Obviously.”

“Not if she was a good baller or had a good sense and understanding of the game.”, Stinas eyes flashed in amusement.

“Actually.”, threw Kim in who was unlike the rest of the players indeed interested in that side of you.

The England captain clicked her tongue disapprovingly: “No, Kim.”

“We want the tea, Stina.”, Alessia told her.

She paused dramatically, during which everyone held their breath tensely, before admitting:” Yeah, they used to date.”

“When they were players or did, they continue to date once she became the head coach?”, Leah asked the forward curiously.

Stina cleared her throat and answered in a serious voice: “They ended it once Renée retired and took the coaching job in Rosengård.”

After this revelation the room fell silent for a second before Beth concluded with a heavy sigh:” Oh, that’s sad.”

“They seemed okay with it.”, the Swedish striker remarked.

Meanwhile Renée and you were walking along the training pitches, it was a cold day, but the golden afternoon sun warmed your faces. It was where you heard yourself say: “I’m glad that you don’t seem to mind that I took the job, Renée. Considering how things have ended between us in Malmö.”

“We mutually agreed to end this relationship.”, the Arsenal head coach remembered, while the smile disappeared from her face.

“True, it was the best solution at that time.”, you nodded.

Slowly, as the sunlight disappeared, the warmth returned to Renee's dark eyes, confessing:” I’m just happy to see you again.”

“Same. Nothing more.”, you agreed.

“That’s good.”, she observed.

At the end of your tour, you wished her goodbye:” So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. See you tomorrow.”, Renée waved at you, her gaze following you until you were gone.

With a heavy heart the Dutch woman reminisced about all the wins and losses you had shared together in Sweden until her career ending injury put an end to it. Like a disco ball, Renée had put the shards that had caused the separation into each other to turn the pain into something bright.

She was content with her work, so love life wasn't a big issue until you came back into her life and made her wonder if maybe she should expect more from life.

The next day, you entered the training ground in a cheerful mood. “Good morning, Stina!”, you greeted your former teammate warmly.

“Morning.”, Stina beamed brightly back at you.

There was no time for small talk as Kelly Smith approached you: “Y/n?”

“Yes?”, you asked surprised. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe that you were working with her. Not only was she a legendary player for England but also for the whole of womens football.

She still smiled politely at you: “I think Renée is looking for you.”

You nodded once: “I’m coming.”

Renée was already on the pitch, one foot on a ball and her arms folded over her chest as she waited for the players to arrive.

You caught her eye from the other side of the field and smiled at her.

For a split second, Renée lost her balance on the ball, stumbling forward but catching herself quickly.

It all went by so fast, you had no time to worry about her.

“You’re good?”, you called out to her, teasing.

You had the feeling that somewhere behind you, Kelly was holding back laughter.

Renées cheeks had turned a slightly darker colour: “Yeah, of course.”

“Kelly said you wanted to see me?”, you said as you finally crossed the pitch.

“I do.”

You leaned forward, whispering: “I saw the dinner invitation in the locker room.”

The corners of Renées mouth quirked up: “Good. Are you free tonight?”

“Yes, I am. Will Kelly and the boys join us too?”

“No, it’s just us.”

Somehow your brain stopped working in that exact moment. You weren’t prepared for you and her. You had been thinking of nice little staff dinner where you had the opportunity to get to know everyone better. Being alone with Renée made your heart race a little.

Hesitantly, you accepted the invitation: “Alright… I guess I’ll go back to work.”

“Okay.”, Renée nodded.

Luckily, the players entered the pitch at that moment.

Beth who had caught the end of your conversation, stared at Renée with hopeful eyes: “Is that a date?”

“No.”, the head coach replied matter-of-factly.

Victoria elbowed Beth in the side: “Stop seeing things, Beffy.”

“I don’t”, the winger protested.

Kim rolled her eyes: “Yes, you do. You’re delusional.”

“You will see.”, Beth said full of confidence before Renée sent them to warm up.

Against your better judgement, you found yourself in a tiny but charming restaurant that night.

“The dinner is so delicious, Renée.”, you said, taking a sip of your wine.

She smiled at you almost shyly: “Glad you like it.”

“Next time we should bring the whole team and staff here.”

Her face turned a bit more serious: “Yes, we should. But first I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“About something specific?”

“No, just to catch up.”, Renée explained whose cheeks were slightly reddish in colour, you weren’t sure whether it was the wine or her nervousness. 

Instead of looking into her curious dark chocolate brown eyes, you stared at the wine glass in front of you as you confessing: ”I left Sweden because I needed a change.”

“A change?”, she repeated your words in a sincerely interested tone.

For a moment, you paused while the waitress lit the candle in the centre of the table, the flickering light made the conversation even more intimate: “To heal from heartbreak. What about you? What did I miss?”

“Not much. I tried to focus on football after leaving Rosengård.“, the football coach admitted casually. Whilst Renée undid her low hair bun so that her dark brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders.

With an amused smile on your lips, you remarked in disbelief:” That doesn’t sound like the fun Renée I knew from Linköping.”

Memories of her with a big cigar in her mouth and a ridiculous hat after winning the Swedish league came to your mind.

“Hey, I’m still fun.”, protested the Dutch woman, pointing her fork at you.

You cleared your throat and replied more seriously:” Yes, the players seem to think that too.”

“I take that as a compliment.”, she responded happily.

“You should, they’re really great to work with so far.”, you acknowledged.

Her radiant grin was infectious:” I think they like you too.”

“Only Beth is a bit annoying with..”, you began, thinking about the huge interest the English striker had in your private lives.

Renée waved your worries off:” Yes, I know. But that’s just how she’s, she only has good intentions.”

“I guess that’s true. I mean would be crazy if you still would have -.. , right?”, you started to ramble.  

She lifted an eyebrow at you: “Would have what?”

“Feelings after a mutual breakup.”, you finished your previous sentence flustered.

The brunette spoke your name gently.

“Yes?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

Fiercely and passionately, Renée continued: “Of course I do. I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t have feelings for you anymore, I broke up with you because I suddenly was your coach, and it was wrong to date a player.”

Afterwards, there was a dramatic silence at the table. “Well, I’m not a player anymore.”, you said matter-of-factly.

“I’m aware of that.”, she answered with a wistful smile.

Slightly sheepishly, you asked her:” Was that why you wanted a dinner with me alone first?”

“To see if we could get back together? No. I wanted to know how you’re, what you’ve been up to?”, the football coach tried to be professional again.

“Now you know.”

“I do.”, Renée confirmed, playing with the idea to order some dessert for both of you as it was a speciality of this restaurant.

Much to her disappointment though, you stood up:” Thank you for the dinner, it was a nice catching up.”

“Yes, I agree.”, the brunette waved at the waitress, signalling that she was ready to pay for the two of you.

The first game of the year and also the first game in your new job was against Crystal Palace a few days later. To your delight, the girls played great, winning the game 5:0 and building their confidence in this first game.

“Great win, girls.”, you clapped your hands as the referee blew the final whistle.

Renée appeared on your side.

“That’s exactly what we wanted to see.”, she agreed.

“Oh yes, well done everyone.”, you smiled and handed out water bottles to the players. They high-fived you, done but happy while Renée said a few words to the players.

Happily you watched as the players rightfully celebrated their win until an elbow to your side made you look up.

Renée was grinning at you: “Good job from you too.”

“From me? I didn’t do much yet.”, you said, feeling heat rise into your cheeks.

“You did everything I expect from my assistant coach. Arsenal made the right decision, we’re a good team.”, Renée said softly.

You nodded, smiling gently at her: “Yes, we are.”

“Come on, let the girls celebrate.”, Renée said, nodding in the direction of the sidelines so your players could have the pitch to themselves.

You didn’t follow immediately. Instead, you pointed to a few reporters that stood on the side, waiting for their first interviews. “The media already calls for you.”

“On my way.”, Renée winked and disappeared into the direction of the cameras.

Just when you were wondering when exactly she became so comfortable giving interviews, Leah stepped into your field of vision.

“Leah? Shouldn’t you celebrate with your teammates?”, you asked jokingly.

She shrugged with a smile: “I was about to. It’s not everyday that you score a goal as a defender.”

“I know. That’s why you need to enjoy every second of it.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”, you laughed.

Leah pushed you gently towards the rest of the team: “Celebrate with us!”

There was no way you could decline now, so you agreed and followed along: “Alright.”

A few minutes of jumping and hugging several players later, Renée found you on the pitch again.

Her eyes glowed with amusement: “Did they manage to get you to celebrate with them?”

“I couldn’t say no to that.”, you admitted

“Of course not.”, Renée laughed.

“See?”

She winked at you: “Enjoy your first win.”

You toasted to her with a random water bottle that somehow had ended up in your hand: “To many more wins.”

“Yes, please.”, she laughed.

“Y/n! Come with us!”, Beth interrupted your conversation and waved you over.

“Where are we going?”, you asked.

“It’s a surprise.”, Mariona replied instead of Beth, smiling excitedly.

It was already night when you got home and when you saw Renée's number light up on your mobile phone, you held your breath for a moment, although you didn't know exactly why.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up.”, she apologized quietly as you answered her call.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips: “No, I was still awake, the Arsenal players can stay in pubs forever let me tell you that.

“Oh, I know, they did that to me too once.”, the Dutch woman remembered fondly.

“Kim and I left at the same time.” Teasingly you added:” So did you call me because you have come up with a masterplan against Chelsea or is it something else?”

“It’s something else. There’s something I need to talk about with you”, Renée admitted.

Your heart began to race: “Sure.”

“I kind of miss what we had back when.”, the head coach confessed.

The moment she said that you caught yourself reminiscing about memories of the past “Me too. We had some good parties with the team back then too.”

“Y/n.. I meant us. You and me.”, Renée clarified.

You felt the hope rise in you: “Do you think we could start again?”

“I don’t know, would you even like that? Or would you rather want to keep it professional.”, she began to nervously ramble.

You had heard yourself thinking out loud: “Pretty sure both can work this time.”

“Yes, but I want to know what you want.”

“I want to be with you. Renée, you’re an idiot, why are you standing outside in the cold?!”, you whispered into the phone, your eyes wandering off to the window where you noticed her in flesh and blood under the golden glow of the streetlamp light.

“In case that you say yes. What did you expect me to do? Go back to bed?”, Renée questioned with a warm laugh.  

Soon you got up to go to the front door: “Wait, I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks.”, she replied relived.

“You look like you’re freezing, come inside.”, you observed while you let her inside.

The brunette thanked you once more, kissing you, her icy lips melting on yours as the door closed behind the two of you.

[ldydeath]

Let's Make This Count | Kang Dae-ho

Summary: You've entered into Squid Game to help pay off some debts, not expecting your best friend, Daeho to be there. You both will do anything to proect each other, no matter the cost.

Warnings: Typical squid game stuff.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing Dae-ho. If you'd like to be tagged in future fics of his, please let me know.

Life has been hard lately, which is why when you’d been presented a chance at fixing at least one of those things, you’d jumped at the chance. You however, hadn’t been expecting this to be a game of death. You’d heard player 456’s cries to listen to him at the start of the game, but like everyone else you had ignored him. That was until that girl moved during red light, the chaos that had ensued after that had you praying to gods you didn’t believe in to keep yourself safe. You’d been in Squid Game for a few hours now and already had the blood of your competition splattered over you. You were definitely in over your head and needed to get out. 

Thankfully, the pink suits had announced a vote and you prayed everyone would agree to send you home. You’d been standing for what felt like hours waiting for your number to be called, listening to play 456 plead with everyone to leave the games. He’d been here before so you were definitely going to take his advice. Once your number was called you made your way quickly to the front, voting to go home. You may have needed money, but you’d find another way. You weren’t going to die over some debt.

As you were putting your x badge on your jacket your eyes caught sight of a familiar, gorgeous face and your breath caught in your throat. No. He couldn’t be here. Why was he here? Daeho’s eyes met yours and his brows crinkled in confusion. You shook your head and made your way to your spot. There were too many people around to talk comfortably yet and you weren’t exactly sure it was safe to announce that you knew someone else in the games. That mother and son duo seemed to be the only exception to that rule, and you weren’t about to chance it. After play 001 voted, the pink soldiers announced that there would be another game in the morning, panic rising in your body.

Trying to act normal, you turned to head towards your bunk when you felt a hand on your arm “don’t touch-“ you let out a breath, thankful you didn’t have to fight for your life when you came face to face with your best friend. “What are you doing here?” He hissed, panic in his eyes. You shrugged out of his grip, crossing your arms defensively. “I needed money. What are you doing here?” 

His hand went to his hair, fixing the bun that sat on top of his head and nodded in the direction of some empty bunks.  “I also needed money, why else would I be here?” You raised a brow as you followed him towards the private spot. You wanted to know what he could possibly need money for, but Daeho was so private you knew you’d never get that answer. Even if you were his best friend. “You shouldn’t be here, Dae.” You sighed as you leaned against the wall. 

You couldn’t protect your best friend, not from this.  After Daeho enlisted in the Marines you had a never ending supply of worry in your body for him. Constantly fearing the worst, him being here was going to distract you from staying alive. Your heart raced at the thought of either of not making it out and your eyes found his. “I can’t lose you.” It came out as a whisper but you knew he’d heard you as he moved closer to you.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, “Come on, I’m a Marine, I’ve got this. And I’ve got you. We’re going to get out  of here. I promise.” You nodded, moving to lean your head on his chest. You knew it would be bad if anyone caught you panicking but as Daeho's hands wound around your body you allowed yourself to take a few minutes to collect yourself. Perhaps it wasn’t normal to feel so much comfort from a friend, but you weren’t ready to dive into those feelings, not yet. “We don’t die.” He murmured against your hair. “We don’t die.” You repeated. He grinned at you before walking you over to your bunk, making sure nobody messed with you as you got sleep. 

The next game was a team game, Daeho took the lead in finding you a group, being the friendlier person in your duo. You’d somehow managed to end up with player 456 and player 001. You said a nervous hello and stuck close to your best friend. After you completed your task perfectly, the team cheated, Daeho pulling you in for a quick side hug as you marched forward. For a second, with his arm wrapped protectively around you, you almost forgot that you were fighting for your life inside these games. 

After the game had ended you stood with your newly found team, waiting for the next vote. You had all agreed to vote to go home again so when it was your turn to vote, you proudly hit that x and put the badge on your jacket. Almost as if on instinct, Daeho moved to stand next to you as you awaited the rest of the votes. As the final four players made their way to the front, your hand reached out, grabbing his, he gave you a squeeze in response. Your heart raced at the touch and you looked down at your entwined hands before meeting your best friends’ eye.

So, maybe you had a crush on your best friend, maybe that was why you were so afraid to lose him. Either way, this wasn’t the time to start admitting your feelings, so when he smiled at you you smiled back and pushed those thoughts down, hoping that these votes would go in your favor and you’d be able to go home. A groan rang out amongst your peers and you looked up to see that there was only one vote left and you’d lost. Your mouth hanging open in shock as you turned back to Dae.

Another game? Why would anyone want to stay here? “Let’s Go!” someone shouted from across the room and you looked around spotting the purple haired man high fiving his friend. Of course he’d be excited to stay. “Hey, look at me.” Daeho’s hand was under your chin moving your gaze back to him, your heart racing as you locked eyes. Daeho had always been in tune with your mood, and would do anything in his power to keep you calm and safe. You were the most important person in his life and even in a game of literal life and death he was going to do whatever it took to make sure you weren’t living in constant fear. “We’ll get through this one together too, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat refusing to let the rest of your team see you so defeated and nodded. “Yeah.” You agreed. 

“Let’s go get some food and talk strategy for the next time.” He held his hand out for you, a reassuring grin on his face and you eagerly took his hand following him to your new found team. You weren’t sure you wanted to be close to anyone else in the game, but you also knew you couldn’t keep Dae alive without some help so you were going to do whatever it took to keep him alive, even if that meant making nice with people who all had one goal in mind. You scooted closer to Daeho, your hand resting on his leg and he grinned at you as he started eating his food. You didn't care if you made it out of here or not, so long as he did.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 11

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | previous | next

-

yn

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 638.642 others

yn got a new swatch palette 👀

user soft lauch????

landonorris Thank god my hand is finally free

alexandrasaintmleux pls tell me you got that lipstick you sent me

yn I did, it’s so gorgeous 🫠

alexandrasaintmleux 🫠

user she’s so prettyy

user need a man that lets me do this with his hand 😔

-

“What are you making?” Max asks as he leans against the counter “Just pasta. You want some too?” He nodded “Sure.”

He watches you as you make the meal. You felt his gaze all over you and shivered slightly. He pushed himself from the counter and stood behind you.

“What are you doing?” His hands gently rest on your hips “You seem cold” He murmured with a knowing undertone. You shake your head “No I’m okay”

Your breath hitched as his arms cling to your waist and his face was buried in your neck “I think you are.. unless you wanna tell me why you’re shivering?” He smirked.

“I-Uh” You close your eyes as max pressed soft kisses to your neck “Max” You breathe “Hm?” His arm goes forward and turns off the stove. His hands guide you to the counter next to it and turn you around.

Your hands land on his chest “My pasta” You say quietly “Fuck your pasta. You’re killing me” He breathes, he was close now.

“Everytime we’re finally were we wanna be, we get interrupted. I- God” His eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You smirk “You want me?”

Instead of embarrassed, he looks at you, more sure than he’s ever been.

“Want you? That doesn’t even describe it in the slightest. You’re everything i’ve ever craved. You pull me in more than any kart or championship ever could. I’d fight your brother a million times- no actually he’s no one I would fight cause he wouldn’t be mad. I’d fight daniel a million times-“

“He’s way taller than you, and not the mentioned a bit stronger” Max glare at you but gently grabs you by the throat, surprising you both.

“And yet you’re standing here, right were you belong. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone was low and dangerous.

“You talk and talk but you don’t get to the point” You say teasingly “You want me to get to the point?” You nod, biting your lip and looking at him.

The hand on your throat pulls you closer gently “You want this?” You nod “Please” Thats all he needed before his lips finally met yours.

Years of tension, longing and desperation went into the kiss. Your fists were pulling him impossible closer to yourself.

You slowly pull away and both of you try to catch your breath “We had that one coming” You chuckle which he smiles at and finally opened his eyes. His hand wandered from your throat to your cheek, which was joined by his other hand.

“I don’t ever wanna let you go again” He murmured and gently pressed his forehead against yours “When did you become a romantic?” He chuckled “Always have been a hopeless romantic. You just never saw it” “It’s a bit hard when you reject me”

You look into his eyes and he sighs “You know so didn’t mean to hurt you..” You nod “I know, it’s okay. I just love teasing you” He smiles and goes in for a second kiss.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” You chuckle and press your lips to his again.

-

-

yn

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris, angryginge13 and 826.733 others

yn about this week 🩷

angryginge13 I didn’t know people could be this attached to each other but then there’s you and your man

yn jealous much?

angryginge13 never

yn sounds like it 🤷‍♀️

user omggg mystery man cameo

user that looks like lando. Look at the cap

user oh

alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl 🩷

yn 🩷

landonorris I regret bringing you two together

user omg Lando playing amor??

user so lando approves 🥹

-

yn and quadrant

liked by landonorris, quadrant, maxfewtrell and 639.535 others

yn making free ads for your brother because he won the race 👏😋

user when are you gonna come to a race again??🥹

yn next race week in silverstone

landonorris 🧡

user need that sweatshirt 😍

user their bond>>>

user why does this kinda look like Max‘s kitchen?

user verstappen?

user no fewtrell..

user I mean it seems they’re friends now

-

f1gossip

f1gossip Lando walked into the paddock today alongside Daniel Riccardo, his sister arrived later alongside Max Fewtrell, their long time friend. Radio silence from Riccardo and the Norris duo had everyone convinced they were no longer talking. This all happened after Yn Norris and Riccardo were rumoured to be dating!

user oh?

user now i’m confused

user Max did NOT want to be there

user with yn? he was laughing 🤨

user no, there is another pic with all four of them. Max looks like it’s pure torture to be there 😭

user OH HAHA

-

You sit in the ferrari hospitality next to Alexandra. She stares at her glass “Why would he invite daniel? why now?” “He told us he would do it” “Why?” “Payback or something. I’m not sure what lando’s plan is. Told us at that dinner”

“And he told you nothing?” You shake your head and look at your phone “Oh dear. Lando left Max and Daniel alone. I have to go. We’ll talk later!” You jump up from your seat before Alex could answer and made your way to the mclaren hospitality.

-

Daniel was glaring at Max, who was scrolling on his phone, much to Daniel’s dismay. You slowly walked up to their table “Hey” Max looks up and smiles “Hey. Finished the gossip session?” He winks and you chuckle “Yes. The tea was piping hot” You smile.

“That’s interesting.” He gets up “You up for a fro-yo?I saw they got a stand here” Your eyes widen “Yes! Oh I love fro-yo” You clap your hands. Max smiles at you, admiring how happy such a little thing made you.

Daniel eyes you both, you look at the aussie “Hello Daniel” Your mood was toned down “Hey Yn” He smiled, which you didn’t return.

You walk out of the hospitality with Max and sigh in relief. Max chuckled “My savior” You hook your arm in his “Whatever lando’s plan is, he has to do it fast. I’m not gonna sit here and have Daniel be a jealous prick” Max nods “It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so” You mumble before you arrive at the stand. You get your order and pull out your wallet, which Max snatches out of your hand and pushes into his pocket “Max” “No.” “Fewtrell.” “That’s not gonna work” He smiles at you before paying.

“I hate you” “Sure” He pats your head in a teasing way and you roll your eyes “You’re annoying” “Now that I believe you” He smiles and moves in for a kiss, which he stops “Forgot we’re in public” He murmured and you laugh “Sorry, no kisses for you”

-

yn

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzhneimer, maxfewtrell and 636.437 others

yn happy quali day 🤭🧡

landonorris you got fro-yo without me??

yn you’re not allowed.

landonorris 😔

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷

user who did she get fro-yo with?

user is that daniel??

user little leo 🥹

-

“You are aware that this ain’t gonna work,right?” Daniel looks at Lando, who raised an eyebrow “What?” “Max and yn.” Lando sighs “It’s their life.”

“You threw a fit when we were together” Lando crossed his legs “That’s different” “Just because he’s max or what?” “Daniel, can we not talk about my sisters love life? It’s no longer your concern.”

“Oh but it is, you’ll see” “Is that a threat?” “No.” Lando eyes the aussie “Lando! Let’s go” You yell into the hospitality “We wanna go out and eat. You coming?” Lando nods “See you tomorrow, Daniel” “See you” Daniel leans back in his chair and watches lando walk over to you.

His and Max’s eyes meet for a moment. Max’s glare told him everything he needed to know, but would he accept that..?

-

almost forgot to post this, OOPS. Oh and look who’s back 👀👀 Don’t get too comfortable, we’re just getting started folks 😉

[straylightdream]

sweet monday afternoons

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoon jeonghan x afb.reader

Being with him was easy, and sharing a love of food and baking was the perfect match.

coming soon: feb 14th valentine’s day

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, romance, fluff, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol, linecook! jeonghan, waitress/baker!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.1k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, angst kinda?, the mc has a hard time communicating sometimes

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumplay, creampie, soft dom jeonghan, big dick jeonghan, pussy stretching, size kink, praise kink, the reader has bigger boobs and jeonghan is obsessed, breeding kink, dirty talk, hand job, fingering, oral (both rec), anal play, use of a buttplug, cockwarming, spanking, nicknames: bunny, pretty, pretty girl, baby, sweet cheeks, princess good girl (hers) baby, hannie (his)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

🎧: intentions - starfall | casual - chappell roan | talk to me - starfall | soft spot - keshi

if you would like to be tagged fill out this form.

~ PREVIEW ~

Jeonghan leans again at the bar and takes a drink of his beer. “Can I ask you a question?” Jeonghan asked.

“Sure.”

“Are you and Soonyoung together?” He asked so casually before taking a sip of his beer.

Trying your hardest not to let out a laugh you glance over at your roommate who is in the middle of flirting with a girl over at the pool table. “No we’re not together.”

“Okay I just wanted to know.”

Taking a sip of your beer you raise your eyebrow at him. “Why do you ask?”

A smile plays across his lips, “Well I wanted to make sure you weren’t together before I asked if you wanted to come over to my place tonight?” The room suddenly seems like it’s spinning at the mention of Jeonghan wanting you to come over.

“Like to have sex?” The moment the words leave your mouth you instantly feel embarrassed. Clearly that’s what he wants and you aren’t sure why you’re being so awkward.

“If you don’t want to, it's totally cool. I just thought I would shoot my shot.” You've seen Jeonghan flirt with other people before and you’ve seen him pull his fair share of women. You never thought he had any interest in you.

“I didn’t know you liked me like that.”

“I would have made a move earlier, but I thought Soonyoung was your boyfriend.” Leave it to Soonyoung to cock block you without even trying.

“Definitely not my boyfriend.” In all the years you’ve known Soonyoung you’ve never even had a crush on him. He’s always just been your best friend.

“Well if you’re still interested at the end of the night maybe you could come over to my apartment.”

“Okay.”

The rest of your time is spent hanging out at the pool table. Soonyoung and Joshua are each flirting with a girl and Jeonghan is whooping everyone's ass at pool. When it’s your turn Jeonghan stands next to you coaching you. There is something so sexy about how confident he is at this. If you weren’t already looking forward to going home with him you definitely are now.

Bending over the table, Jeonghan's hand is on your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” he says loud enough for only you to hear.

“You’re very charming Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Only when there is a pretty girl involved.”

As the night comes to a close Jeonghan is at the bar talking to Wonwoo right as you get up.

“Maybe we should call a cab instead of walking the short distance home,” your roommate says.

“Soonyoung I’m going to go to Jeonghan’s house.” Your voice is low, barely above a whisper.

Soonyoung’s eyes go wide as he processes what you just said. “Are you going to fuck Jeonghan?”

“Soonyoung!”

“Oh my god, well have fun getting laid,” he pats you on the back giving you a huge smile. He takes off running towards Joshua asking him to share a cab.

[nephilimeq]

Stuck in the Middle With You

Prompt: Clingy Boyfriend

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/160733068

Buck was annoyed.

No, scratch that—he was pissed.

It had been over seventy-two hours—and he still hadn’t seen his boyfriend. Hell, he had been forced to go back to his apartment because there was no point in going over to Tommy’s house because he wouldn't even be there for another forty-eight hours. Somehow—he had no idea how—the end of Bucks forty-eight had overlapped with the beginning of Tommy’s seventy-two, and the only thing he wanted to do was pull his hair out by the roots and scream into the void.

…But he couldn’t, so instead he was doing the next best thing: drinking with Eddie and complaining about his life.

“Dude, you’ll be fine,” his friend reassured him as he sat next to him at the bar at a quarter past eight. “it’s not like you guys haven’t gone five days without seeing each other since you two started dating…”

Buck didn’t look up at him, casting his eyes down towards his glass.

“Seriously?!”

He let out a whine as he stretched out almost flat against the bar and reluctantly admitted, “Yeah, we’ve kinda been attached at the hip—”

“Or other body parts,” Eddie muttered before taking a swig of his beer and Buck glared at him and said, “Hey! No interrupting!” and threw a rogue peanut shell at him, and then added, “I mean, we still text, call, and video chat, but…god, it’s just not the same, you know?” and then took a long drag of his own beer, thinking about the fact that Tommy would reprimand him for choosing such a generic brand instead of going for one of the nicer craft beers with a better flavor.

But he didn’t want a better flavor, he wanted to drown his sorrows and didn’t need something like flavor getting in the way of that. Besides, he wouldn’t have appreciated the taste anyway, far too focused on trying to numb the longing feeling in his chest that felt as though it was turning into a cavernous hole.

Eddie gave him a look and said, “Look, if you miss him so much, then why don’t you swing by the 217?” and Buck shot him a look.

“Because, they’re on standby for the fires and their schedule is all over the place! And-and I don’t wanna just, you know, show up like the clingiest boyfriend in the world! I’m not some, some…tween girl who’s obsessed, you know?”

“You’re not? Coulda fooled me,” his friend drawled as he turned and leaned with his back to the bar and Buck found himself glaring at him all over again, getting slightly annoyed at his friend’s attitude, and threw another peanut at him, thrilled when it hit his chin and then fell into the front pocket of his flannel, and he muttered into the crook of his folded arm, “Ha, three points,” knowing that if Tommy had been there he would have appreciated him making the basketball joke.

Eddie merely shot him an arched eyebrow.

“You’re acting like Christopher, right now, you do know that, right?” he said as he fished out the peanut and popped it into his mouth.

Buck scoffed and slowly sat up, saying, “If you’re telling me that I have the emotional maturity of a fourteen-year-old, you are way off on that mark. According to Dr. Jensen, I have the emotional maturity of a twenty-five year old.”

“Buck, you’re thirty-four.”

“Yeah, I’m still catching up. So?”

Eddie merely shook his head and took another sip from his beer while Buck cast a glance around the bar, noting that it was still a light crowd. Of course, it was the middle of the week, and eight o’clock on a Wednesday evening wasn’t exactly the hip time for people to be out drinking. God, he was pathetic.

--

“Oh, god, just call him!” Sal said, sounding thoroughly annoyed—but Tommy shook his head and said, “I can’t! He’s out with Eddie and I don’t want to bother him while he’s having a good time off shift, you know?”

“If he’s anything like you, he doesn’t know how to have a good time,” muttered Lucy from behind her cards on the other side of the table, her feet propped up on the edge. “I take that bet and raise you two skittles,” she then said, arching an eyebrow at him, and Tommy knew immediately that she was bluffing and said, “I call.”

She smirked.

“Read ‘em and weep, Kinard.”

She laid down her cards with all the confidence of someone twenty years her senior—and Tommy nodded and said, “Nice hand, Donato. Full house…which would be great if I didn’t have a straight flush,” and he laid down his hand with a smirk, and she let out a huff and dropped her legs and said, “God, I hate your poker face. You’re inscrutable.”

“It’s a gift,” he said, pulling the pile of candy towards him, popping a lemon skittle into his mouth…and found his eyes drifting towards his phone, where he had left it on the table, wondering if he should give Evan a call. He hadn’t been able to spend any time with him for two days already, and now he was stuck with another three days without him. God, he had never gone more than three days without him, and now he was going to be away from him for a total of five fucking days.

His hand twitched—and then Sal said, “For fuck’s sake, just call him!”

“Language Deluca!” shouted their captain, but he simply rolled his eyes and moved over to him, shoving his shoulder up against his.

“Look, have the two of you been apart for very long before? Anything longer than two or three days?” he asked…and Tommy reluctantly admitted, “Uh…no. We’ve never spent more than three days apart since we got back together,” and his friend let out a long sigh that lasted so long it almost seemed as though he was deflating.

He then said, “Mierda…you two are grade-a clingers, aren’t you?”

…and Tommy snorted and started to laugh and through his laughter he managed to say, “Okay, yeah, I guess we are. When we’re at home we do almost everything together,” he admitted, giving Sal a sideways glance. “I think we’re both kinda touch starved and we both need a lot of reassurance after what happened to us all those months ago. I think we’re also both a little bit afraid on some sort of subconscious level that the other person is gonna just up and leave …”

His friend turned so they were both facing the same way and said, “You two are good together. So, why don’t you text him?”

--

“…Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a couple days at a time without him!” Buck explained as he stood on the other side of the pool table, moving the stick between his hands in an agitated manner. “I don’t want him to think that I’m desperate! Don’t you get that?”

Eddie glanced up at him as he lined up his shot and muttered under his breath, “I get that you’re both grade-a clingers…”

Buck shot him a look.

“You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head and walking over to where Eddie was lining up his shot. “If I reach out first then that means I’m the clingier one! And I am not the clingier one! You’ve never seen how Tommy follows me around the apartment when he comes over…or how-how whenever I go to his place, he is constantly calling out to check in on where I am just in case so he can find me if he wants to share something with me because he thinks texting across the house is-is too…impersonal!”

At that, Eddie took his shot, missing it, and then straightened and said, “Je-sus, Buck. I’m thinking you two might be a little codependent,” and at that Buck arched an eyebrow at him as he bent over to line up his own shot and said, “Oh, big word for you. Therapy working?”

His friend shrugged.

“Eh, yeah. I guess. Still feels too much like confession to me,” he said with a pointed look, “But I think it’s working. Still—you and Tommy have a weird relationship.”

“No, we don’t,” Buck stressed, taking his own shot and sinking it without even glancing back down at the table. “We have a healthy relationship. I think the two of us are just trying to make up for lost time, you know? Those few months without him were hell for me, and for him, and now we just…I think maybe we’re just scared that one of us might come up with another reason to walk away from it and so we don’t like being away from each other for too long…”

Letting out a sigh, he went to line up his next shot…and then Eddie said, “So you’re not texting him because…?”

--

“Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a few days without him,” Tommy said to Sal as they got the injured hiker into the medevac chopper. “And if he knows that, then he’ll know that I’m the clingier one, and I’m not! Do you know that Evan tries to text me across the house? I’ve told him to just let me know where he is and I can come to him, but no. He insists on being allowed to text me across the house, which is just…weird.”

From below them, the woman on the gurney lifted up a feeble hand and said, “You know, you and your husband should just sit down and talk about how to communicate when you’re feeling insecure, because that’s what I’m picking up on here,” and he quickly corrected her.

“He’s my boyfriend, not my husband.”

Sal then interjected, “But you want him to be your husband, don’t you?” and Tommy ducked his eyes and moved back to the pilot’s seat, pulling on his headset.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Sal.”

His friend shot him a look and said, “Uh, you kinda are. So just text him, already! You miss him because you love him, that’s not a bad thing,” he said as Tommy lifted the chopper into the air, heading for the hospital. “Love can make you do stupid things—like break up with someone when they ask you to move in with them,” he jabbed at him, and the airman groaned and repeated, “I am not talking with you about this! Evan and I…we can figure it out. We got back together, didn’t we?”

At that, his friend chuckled and said, “Yeah, sure, like you were the one who figured it out. Isn’t the only reason why you two got back together because Howie pulled some underhanded shit with his wife and kid in order to get you and your boy into the same room again?”

Tommy sighed.

Okay, so yeah, it had been because of Howie and Maddie that he and Evan had gotten back together…but it was because of them talking things out that they had finally decided that it was worth it.

Still, as he angled the chopper towards the direction of the hospital he thought about what Sal had been trying to say to him the entire shift—and he hated to admit it, but the man was right. He missed Evan because he was in love with him, and that wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, it was practically expected at this point in their relationship.

Tommy continued to think on it as they dropped off the injured hiker…

…and then as they landed back at the 217, he reluctantly said to Sal over the headset, “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

His friend shot him a far too smug look, and the airman was already regretting his words, especially when the other man said as they sauntered back to the main hangar, “Oh, I want that put onto a t-shirt! ‘Tommy Kinard says that Sal Deluca was right!’ This is a pretty damn good feeling! So…you’re gonna text him, right?” he prodded, and Tommy nodded and reached for his phone, feeling a small sense of relief as he saw the picture of his boyfriend smiling on his lock screen.

He smiled down at it and then swiped his phone open…where Evan was the background, and he continued to smile.

Sal playfully shoved at his shoulder with his own, saying, “Someone’s in lo-ove,” and Tommy shoved him right back, pleased when the other man stumbled.

Hesitantly, he brought up their texts and then stared at them for a moment or two, trying to get up the courage to message him first, noting that their last conversation had been about the shopping list for the cookies that Tommy had baked for the 118.

He stop midstride and stared at it…and then began to type…

--

“He’s bubbling me!” Buck said, staring at his phone in shock. He had finally caved and reached for his phone to text his boyfriend, only to see those little bubbles telling him that Tommy was texting him first.

“Yipee,” Eddie said dryly from the corner of the pool table, looking at it with a curious expression, as if expecting it to rearrange the balls for him so that he would have a better shot.

Buck ignored him and continued to stare at his screen, waiting for the message to show up—and then grinned when the words that popped up said, Hey, thinking about you. Sorry we have to spend so many days apart, babe, and he couldn’t help but feel lucky to have someone in his life who understood just how hard it was for him to be apart from the people he loved for long amounts of time, and he immediately texted back, Thinking about you, too. Miss you, along with a kissy face emoji.

Feeling reassured, he slid his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the game and teased, “You gonna take your shot or what, Diaz?” and Eddie gave him a bitch-face and leaned against his pool stick and said, “Gimme a minute! Your last shot fucked me up…”

Buck rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic! Just take the shot!”

“Well, looks like someone’s in a better mood,” his friend muttered as he bent over and took the shot, letting out another curse when the ball bounced off a bumper and went wide, setting it up perfectly for Buck’s next shot, and he grinned and set it…and in three moves he had finished the game.

Eddie pretended to be annoyed with him, but he was smiling as he said, “So, think you can manage a few more days without him?” and Buck shrugged and said, “I guess so, yeah. I just…I sleep better with him next to me, you know?” and his friend tilted his head and remarked, “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I remember it was hard for a while after I was deployed to sleep without Shannon next to me, so I get it,” and patted his shoulder.

Buck nodded and turned back to the pool table.

“Wanna go again?”

Eddie smirked.

“Bring it on, lover boy.”

Buck scoffed and said, “Oh, c’mon, I’m not that whipped, am I?” and Eddie lifted an eyebrow and said, “Yeah, you kinda are, but that’s okay. By the way,” he said as he moved around to the other side of the table, “Are you even living at your apartment anymore? Why don’t you just move into his place?” and his heart skipped a beat.

Yeah, okay, he’d thought about it, but it was too soon, and he knew it—he had jumped the gun last time, he wasn’t going to do that again.

“Uh, I still have my lease,” he finally replied, avoiding eye contact, focusing on re-racking the balls for their next game. He didn’t have to look up to know that his friend was giving him a side eye…but Eddie said nothing, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Just three more days.

--

It was three days of torture and the shift from hell, and Tommy couldn’t quite believe that he had managed to survive. Letting out a sigh of relief, he dropped his bag as soon as he stepped inside his front door and kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket to the side, uncaring of where anything landed…

…and then the next thing he knew, he had his arms full of his boyfriend, who immediately buried his head in his neck.

“God, I missed you,” Evan said, his voice slightly muffled from where it was pressed into his collarbone, and the airman chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around him and said softly, “I missed you, too, babe,” and pressed a kiss to his damp curls, which told him that Evan had just gotten out of the shower. He took a deep breath, smelling his own soap on his skin, a blend of cedarwood and spearmint, and then nuzzled his nose into his hair, letting out a sigh.

Evan practically melted into him, and the feeling of his body pressed up against his was the best thing he had felt in a long time, having been spending far too much time dealing with Lucy and Sal on either side of him, their presence welcome, but not the same as the man he loved.

“As much as I love this, babe, can we move to the couch? I am beat,” Tommy muttered, and his boyfriend nodded.

Not quite letting go of each other, they made their way to the living room and then promptly crashed onto the couch, Buck laying out flat with Tommy on top of him—

—and god was that nice.

With all of his previous ‘relationships’ he had always been the big spoon because of his height and broad build…but with Evan he was able to relax into another broad chest without having to worry that he was going to crush him.

They lay there for a long while, not saying a single thing, Evan’s fingers carding through his hair, the sensation soft and lulling him into an almost sleep…but then through the haze of exhaustion, he heard him ask, “Am I…am I too clingy for you?” and Tommy snorted and said, “Nope, not at all. Actually, Sal and I talked today, and he says that I’m the clingy one of the two of us,” and he felt a chuckle run through his boyfriend’s chest as he said, “Funny enough, Eddie said the same thing about me…”

He grinned and rubbed his hand over Evan’s side, enjoying every single second of being able to touch him, and softly added, “Well, it seems to be working for us, so I say we keep on doing it.”

Buck chuckled a second time.

“I like that idea.”

He then tucked a finger under the airman’s chin and lifted his head just enough to press a kiss to his lips and Tommy moaned into the kiss and then said as they both pulled back from it, “I’ve never been happier to have a clingy boyfriend,” and Evan gave him a look.

“Damn straight.”

“Damn…gay, actually,” he teased, and was thrilled when his boyfriend groaned and rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, god, I forgot how bad your jokes are.”

“Excuse you, but I am hilarious,” Tommy retorted, lifting himself up slightly to rest his hands on Evan’s chest and prop his chin on top of his clasped hands. “You just don’t appreciate my brand of humor, Evan.”

They shared a look, both of them trying to stare down the other—and then they both broke into giggles, both of them sounding almost manic with the way their giggles dissolved into breathless gulps of laughter, neither of them able to contain themselves. Tommy knew that part of the reason why he was acting so ridiculous was because he always acted punch drunk when he was this tired, and he knew that Evan was just naturally that amused at him.

Eventually it subsided and they rested quietly against each other once more…

…and then Evan said, “I like it when you’re clingy,” and Tommy whispered back, “I like when you’re clingy, too…”

A warm silence fell, and as they lay there the stray thought entered the airman’s mind that Evan always felt like home to him, and that he spent more time at his place than back at his own apartment. Even though it felt too soon, he wanted him to move in…but not yet. It could wait a bit longer, he mused as his felt his boyfriend’s fingers tracing along his spine.

Yeah.

It could wait a bit longer.

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 16

Summary: You really shouldn't have gone to Lee's party, you shouldn't have drank so much, you shouldn't have let your jealously take over, you shouldn't have let Fred see you at all that night.

WC: 1.9k

A/N: short but messy as HELL, sorry yall

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Going to that party was a mistake, you knew it the second you walked through the doorway. You knew it the moment Alicia walked in, followed by a tall ginger boy. You knew it when the alcohol on the kitchen island began to feel like comfort.

Yet, you told yourself you weren’t going to let Fred’s presence ruin your night, like you had let it ruin your mood for years.

It wasn’t just Fred’s presence that was ruining it. It was the fact that Fred showed up to the party with someone. Another girl. A date. 

You had no idea if Alicia and Fred were together, you had no idea what their relationship status was. But whatever thing they seemed to have going on, it put a weird feeling in your stomach. An uneasy one.

It was that same feeling of envy that you had when you saw him and Angelina at the Yule Ball, the feeling that you tried to convince yourself it was caused by the envy of Fred having someone to take to the ball, and not the envy of someone having Fred.

That feeling would go ignored by you, pushed away and buried along with all the other intruding feelings Fred had made you feel.

After seeing them enter, you made it your mission to keep as far away from them as you could. 

You stayed with Angelina and Katie, drank, made awkward small talk, sat outside, talked to a random group of Hufflepuff kids outside, stood around, drank some more.

You were honestly quite content, maybe a little awkward, but you weren't completely miserable. The night had been going pretty good, there hadn’t been any issues at all. Yet.

Of course, until you split off from Angelina and Katie again. They both needed to use the bathroom and you promised you’d save their seats on the couch you were all sitting together on.

Angelina and Katie leaned against the hallway wall, stuck in the line of people that nearly wrapped around the corner.

“How long does it take for someone to piss, wash their hands, and go?”  Katie groaned, looking up and letting her head hit the wall. 

“Why don’t we just go to the bathroom upstairs?” Angelina suggested.

“Last I heard, a couple was getting busy in there.” Katie fake gagged and Angelina grimaced, her dramatic expression fell as she tilted her head over, being able to get a slight view of you waiting on the couch. Behind you, Fred and Alicia distanced away from you, talking to each other.

“You think Fred and Alicia actually have something going on?” Angelina said as she stared, Katie lazily looked over.

“Don’t know. I feel bad for Y/N though. She likes Fred, she just won’t admit it.” Katie sighed and shrugged.

“I wish she’d admit it, she says she's learned to tolerate him and George. But you don’t spend that much time thinking about someone unless you actually care about them, or what they’re doing.” Angelina tutted, “Besides, it seemed like Fred had eyes for her, at least for a moment. I don’t understand, Y/N was just starting to warm up to him. Now he’s off with Alicia.” Angelina shook her head disappointedly.

“Just how boys are. They’re always so confusing, always messing around, never truly clear about how they feel.” Katie inhaled, standing up as the line shuffled forward.

“You think they’ll ever get together? Y/N and Fred?” 

“Maybe. If Fred is clear about what he wants. And if she stops being so stubborn.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you waited, smushing yourself into the corner of the hard couch. Looking around the room at all the partygoers before your night was fucked.

A pair of girls that were unknowingly blocking your sight of the other side of the room moved to another spot in the house, revealing what they were covering.

Fred. Alicia. Sitting on the same chair and giggling at each other. Her sitting on his lap in the leather armchair. Her hand playing with a strand of his hair at the back of his neck. Their faces being way too close for comfort.

You could see Freds mouth moving, calling her a cute petname. It made you sick, seeing him use that term of endearment for someone. Someone that wasn’t you.

And that was your cue to leave. You needed to get out of there, away from them. You lost your friends in the sea of people that crowded the house, but you did find the kitchen, the overhead light shining down on the marble slab island covered with various bottles of alcohol and cups.

In that moment, the warmth of the alcohol going down your throat and into your stomach would be the only warmth you were going to get that night.

Then not soon after, you somehow ended up in a drinking challenge. It was between you and a random Ravenclaw boy, seeing which one of you could finish a row of shots quicker. Another attempt at a distraction.

You took shot after shot, slamming the glasses down on the counter as you beat the boy next to you. You were cheered and applauded by party goers surrounding the kitchen counter. The cheering and liquor made you so brave that eventually you picked up a bottle of fire whiskey and drank straight from it. The cheering grew louder.

Fred, of course, followed the noise with a smile, wanting to see which dumb kid was playing a drinking game now. Only to realize you were that dumb kid as he approached the crowd watching you chug down the liquor.

His face dropped as he saw you, his curious smile turning into a worried frown. You made eye contact with him as you put the now-half finished bottle down. 

Grimacing at the taste then smiling spitefully, raising your arms up in the air at the ovation you were getting. You moved your way through the crowd after taking a random beer can with you, giving high fives to other random drunk kids. You just wanted to get away from Fred. Again.

Yet Fred followed, he caught up and grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. You angrily stepped, more of a drunken stumble, away from his touch before taking another drink from your beer.

“Come on, put that down. You shouldn’t have anymore, you’re gonna drink yourself sick.” He said, taking the can from your hands.

“What are you? My fucking caretaker?” You spat at him, trying to take the drink back. He ended up chugging it, so you couldn’t take it back. You gawked at him.

“What the hell?- So I can’t drink but you can? What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m not the one who's going to have a splitting headache in the morning. I’m trying to keep you from making it worse.” He put the can down on a random side table.

“Whatever. Why don't you just leave me alone and go back to flirting with Spinnet?” You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What are- Are you jealous?” Fred narrowed his eyes, sticking his head out at you.

“Oh that’s where we’re going now?” You let out a faux laugh, looking at him in disbelief. You weren’t really sure what made you, but you turned away and wobbled your way down the nearest empty hallway. Wanting to escape from Fred.

But of course, Fred with his long legs followed suit. You made your way into a random master bedroom and tried to slam the door right in his face.

“I’m not gonna have you walk away from the conversation.” Fred said as he pushed open the door, closing it behind him. “What is your problem?”

“What’s my problem? What the fuck is your problem? You go and act like you’re in love with me and then you go off and start messing around with another girl.” You spat out, poking your index finger into his shoulder before crossing your arms.

“Are you seri- You’re the one that kissed me!” Fred exclaimed, face full of confusion.

“Yeah? Well, you kissed me back!” You threw your arms up and turned your back to him. You knew your argument was going nowhere, this was pointless. 

“Well I’m sorry that for a moment I thought there could’ve been some sort of thing between us.”

“You keep- God- I can’t- You are so insufferable!” You shouted at him, the combination of the loudness of your voice and how close the two of you were made Fred flinch.

“Yeah. I could say the same about you.” He let out an angry breath, jaw clenching.

“Oh, fuck you!” You pushed Fred, your blood was hot and the effects of your were beginning to flow through you. 

“You always make me so…” You trailed off, eyes glossy as you stared at him with awe. Why was he always so pretty?

And in what felt like a flash, you were pulling onto his sweater vest and bringing his lips to yours. He grabbed onto the sides of your face and pushed back into the kiss.

It was messy, it was sloppy, it lasted longer than the last time. 

You both pulled back at the same time to finally breathe, your lips swollen and chests taking in deep breaths. His hands were still holding your face while yours were still holding onto his vest.

“What are we doing? What are you doing?” Fred sighed, clearly exhausted. “Why won’t you just admit you love me?”

"I don't want to love you." You swallowed, a shaky breath leaving you. 

"But you do." 

"I don't know if I do."

Fred dropped his hands to his sides, stepping back and leaning against the dresser behind him. He threw his head back, shaking it in disappointment.  Saying nothing, he headed for the door, you stopped him.

“Wait! I- please don’t leave.” You begged, grabbing his hand and pulling.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He drew out, punctuating the sentence using your name. “I don’t understand. You spend years hating my guts. You kiss me then you run away, you come back and want to be friends,” He paused, taking a second to rub a hand down his face. 

“Then you get mad when i’m hanging around another girl, you kiss me again and say you don’t want to love me, then beg me to stay? I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” He sighed.

I don’t understand myself either. You wished you could say, you stayed silent instead, lip quivering. Guilt burning a hole in your stomach.

“Why can’t you just come to your fucking senses?” He sighed, sounding and looking like a disappointed parent. He mumbled an apology, screwing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I’m begging for you to make up your mind.” He added, bringing his hands up and then dropping them back at his sides.

You couldn’t say anything, the lump in your throat stopping you. You were clenching your jaw so hard you could break a tooth, trying to fight back any more tears from falling, though you failed. There was no point, you were at a loss. He was right.

“You shouldn’t be crying over me, you're wasting your tears.” Fred muttered as he swiftly walked out the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You let out a loud sob as you sat down on the bed behind you. Crying like a child while you raked your hands in your hair.

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[vicky-0933]

Here is the story, just finished during class. Let me know what you think.

————————————————————————

My Flower Girl

“Here are Lilies” you say while pointing to them, the couple goes to them and looks, you smile, watching them talking about the flowers and, looking outside seeing how there is dirt everywhere, grabbing your cleaning supplies, you head outside, sweeping away the dirt and to take care of the flowers, putting the flowers in there places. As you were outside, you started to take in the view of the sky seeing the different colors, “Hello there sweetheart” a voice says to you, which surprised you.

Stopping what you are doing, you turn to see an older looking women with a pink dress that hugs her curves, “Oh hello, how can I help you” you ask, then soon you hear a ringing in your ears and she does too, she looks at you with a confused but stern look. You both don’t say anything, you don’t understand why that happened, she just looks at you. “Oh I just wanted to come see my new neighbor” she says chuckling, and you snickered, “Well I am glad you came to see me” you say.

You both start talking for a bit, she starts to talking about something until “Excuse me mam” someone says behind you, it’s one of your customers, “Oh yes how can I help you” you ask, they tell you which flowers they want to buy, “Oh yes, I will be right there” you say to them, they walk inside talking about other plants, you turn to the older women, “Would you like come with me” you ask and she nods.

Both of you walk inside, and you bring her over to the back of register, you help the couple buy their flowers, “Thank you, I hope you enjoy them” you say, they says thank you back and walk out of the store. “So, what got you into this business” the older women asks you, turning you say in a teasing manner, “Wow, I would like to have your name first before we know each other” you say.

She blushes, “Oh right well, I am Lilia Calderu” she introduces herself, you smile, “well nice to meet you, I am Yn Ln” you say putting out your hand, she takes it then gasp, you panic, pulling away and taking a step back, trying to figure what’s going on, then she stopped and just looks at you, “your a green witch” she say and you start to stutter, “I am- I umm I am” you nervously say, putting you hands on your head, “oh really, your young one are ya, well I am a divination witch” she says with a smirk and her hazel eyes go a bit dark.

You start to blush, “we-well I umm hello I guess” you say stuttering again, little flowers spring out of your head, she looks at you with a questionable look. “Umm hi” she chuckles, “how did you find out that you where a green witch” she asks but you don’t answer her, you close your eyes praying for it to stop, you both just stand there in, “you didn’t answer my question” Lilia say, you open your eyes looking at her with apologetic eyes.

“Oh right, well I started growing them out of hands and hair, which is weird, but non the less, that’s when I started noticing people come to ask me for flowers and then I started paying attention more” you say, putting you hands down, the little flowers showing and Lilia hums, “at some point, I started to get over welled with this power of mine, so I stopped for a bit, but then got back into it a few months ago. It’s been scary, I’m still learning about it” you finishing saying, and she just looks at you with pity.

She smiles, “well at what age did you decide to do this” she asks you, you smile “when I was 16, once I started to work on magic, and with flowers was the best way to help with my magic by growing them and what not, then I started growing a lot of flowers of different kinds and selling them to a few witches here and there, soon I knew I wanted to do a flower shop” you say looking around your shop. You make a fist with your hand and opening it to show a blooming flower coming out, and she gasps, you motion to her to take the flower and she does.

“How old are you” Lilia asks, while covering her face with the flower, you chuckle,”I am 300 years old” you say, “and you, how old are you” you ask, she sighs “450 years old” says. “You look good for a 450 year old witch” you and she blush, she takes a note and looks around from she is, taking in the view from the flowers, making the entrance look beautiful, she nods and smiles. Lilia feels safe, as if she was meant to be there, surrounded by the colors and smells, calming down.

“What are the best types of flowers for my type of witchcraft” Lilia says taking a step towards you, grabbing the desk behind you, you take a deep breath, “I umm I” you stutter, she takes another step towards you. You getting nervous, and looking around to see what you can tell her, so you thinking about something that might help you with the situation.

“Umm HERE, ummm I hear, over here” you stutter walking towards the foxglove, trying to get the flower to go away from your head but they won’t go away, she just look at you with a smug expression and laughs to herself and follows you, “Here are the foxglove, they are one of Europe’s prettiest wildflowers. Doctors in the 1780s, used this flower to make medicine, for it to treat heart failure. But they are extremely toxic, so I would handle them with extreme care.” You say, trying to calm yourself down from the experience before.

“Oh wow, that’s cool.” She says in aww, “Would you want this flower, or a non toxic one?” You ask nervously, and she chuckles, “I would want a flower that wouldn’t kill me” she says and you gasp, “right, right ummm over here” you tell, she follows you to the carnations, “Here yea go” you say while grabbing a bouquet of carnations and letting her grab one, “You know that these are native to Sicily, so I feel like these are good for you.” You say blushing a bit.

“Well, want to know something” she asks and you look at her, a little confused, “I am from Sicily, but I guess it has been so long since I saw how the flowers looked and now that you are here with the flowers, I can look at them again” she says in a low tone and you look at her a little surprised. You then look at her with awe, seeing her take in the flowers, starting to take in her features. The way that her hair makes her face look sharper, as you look at her you didn’t notice that she was looking at you.

She walks up to you, and puts her hand your cheek making you jump a bit. “You ok there sweetheart” she asks you and you blush and nod but you don’t do anything you both just stand there, looking into each others eyes, you see the way her eye colors change, “umm yes i am, miss i am just a but nervous” you say looking away, she doesn’t says anything but grabs your hand examining it, you don’t move as your blushes mess. Lilia lets go of your hand, and starts to walk around, you can feel flowers growing around your head making a crown.

Something that always happens when your nervous, stressed, or fluster, in this case it happens to be both. Lilia finally turns around and sees your crown, “Oh honey, that look beautiful on you” she says walking to you with a smile on her face, “oh umm thank you” you say looking away, she cups you face making you look at her. And something that has never been done before, you crown seem to be going to her, wrapping around her head and making a crown around her head.

“Oh wow that has never happened before” you say while she gasp, and suddenly you both feel a pull at your heart, Lilia smiles, pulling you in for a kiss, which surprises you, the kiss feels gentle and soft. You slowly melt into it, feeling your body get pulled into hers, how your body matched each others. Feeling her hands go down to your lower back, you wrap your her neck, bring her as close as possible, you both pull away from each other, you see the flowers wrapping around both your hands making them stay together.

“This has never happened before, I have no idea why this is happening” you say a bit nervously, studying your hands, Lilia doesn’t say anything but just stares at you, “do you believe in soulmates” Lilia asks. You turn to look at her, “Well kinda, I believe that it doesn’t exist but I never really thought of looking for them” you say feeling guilty. “Well when I looked at your palm, I saw you’ve meet your soulmate, and I think this is a confirmation. I think we found each other” Lilia says softly, you smile.

And without thinking you hug her which makes her gasp, “I never thought I would find you, now that I have, I will never let you go” you whisper in her ear, Lilia chuckles softly, hugging you back. She cups your face again and pulls you into a kiss again, this time it’s more dominant and hard. You let her take control over this, her tongue exploring your mouth, she pushes you against the well, “Umm Excuse me mam” you hear a voice say and turn and see someone standing there.

“I got my professor pregnant and I need to get flowers to say I’m sorry, and what not. So can you help me or can I come in an other time” The person says, and you sigh, “Yea sir I will help you, just pick out what you want and I’ll be there” you say and he goes. “I am so sorry, but let me help him and then I’ll close up and we can do whatever you want” you say and Lilia nods, you go and help the guy, “Alrighty sir your total is $12.99, and I hope you have a great day” you say, and he leaves. You sigh putting your head down, you feel hands on your waist, and a body come behind you, “Where were we, hmm sweetheart” you hear Lilia say.

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Hi y’all I will post a poll later to see what story will be posted next. See ya!!

[klonnieshippersclub]

Baking Dreams into Reality

It's our third day of celebrating Bonnie's birthday and the Bennett-Mikaelson family is back! Their family keeps growing and Bonnie loves them all very much. Klaus loves her too and that's why he spoils her each birthday. She's his wife and the mother of his children, so she deserves it. Read Part One, Part Two

Bonnie let out a quiet sigh as she drank her morning tea at her kitchen table. Her thoughts drifted back to the place that used to be home. She missed her friends, Elena, Caroline, and Matt. The familiar woods of Mystic Falls, the late-night talks, and even the supernatural drama that used to come with being a part of that tight-knit group. It had been years since she left, after graduation, when Klaus had asked her to run away with him. She didn’t regret the decision—they had built a beautiful life together in New York, with their three children—but sometimes, like on her birthday, she couldn’t help but long for the people she had once been so close to.

Her gaze turned to Lila and Theo babbling softly together in their high chairs. The twins were barely a year old, yet they seemed to already have a quiet calm about them. Ava, the bright second grader, was full of energy and curiosity, and today was no exception. Bonnie could hear her talking to Klaus, no doubt already plotting something special for her birthday.

Klaus' smooth voice called out, “Bonnie, love, are you ready? We have a picnic waiting for you.”

Bonnie smiled faintly at the sound of his voice. He had changed her life in ways she could never have imagined, and yet sometimes, the ache of missing her old life still lingered.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” she called back, forcing a cheerful tone.

Minutes later, Klaus appeared in the doorway, holding Theo in one arm and Lila in the other. Ava stood beside him, bouncing on her heels with excitement.

“Happy birthday, Mama!” Ava said, her voice was bright. She handed Bonnie a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Bonnie said, her voice catching for a moment before she kissed Ava’s head.

“Everything’s ready,” Klaus said, his smile widening. “A little surprise picnic for you in the park."

The sun warmed their little picnic spot in Central Park and Bonnie felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. Ava was showing the twins magic tricks she learned from her mother and they giggled at their sister. Klaus watched with an amused smile as his children played. Bonnie took in the sight with a tiny grin. Suddenly, Klaus handed her a large envelope. "What's this about?"

Klaus's eyes sparkled with something mischievous. "A little birthday surprise for you, my love."

Bonnie carefully opened the envelope to find several sheets of detailed blueprints, diagrams, and sketches. She turned the papers over as she tried to make sense of them.

“Klaus, what is this?” she asked.

“Those are the plans for your bakery, Bonnie. The one you’ve always dreamed of."

Her heart skipped a beat as she processed his words. A bakery. She had dreamt of it for years, as a little girl, as a teenager, and even as an adult. But the idea of having one—of stepping away from the security of her job as a pastry chef at a popular restaurant—felt like a huge leap.

“I—I don’t know if I’m ready to walk away from my job, Klaus. It’s everything I’ve worked for,” Bonnie said, her voice uncertain.

Klaus laughed softly, the sound reassuring. “I don’t understand your need to work, Bonnie. But I do understand that you deserve to be your own boss. You've shown me how strong you are—balancing our family and your career. You've raised three kids, worked as a mother and a professional, all while pursuing your dreams. Let's make those dreams a reality.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Bonnie breathed.

“What would you name it?” Klaus asked, his voice tender.

"I’ll name it after Grams. Sheila’s." She paused. "Grams did more for me than anyone else before you ever did, Klaus."

Klaus’s lips curled into loving smile. “She would be proud of you.”

Bonnie pulled Klaus close as she peppered his face with kisses. “Thank you, thank you!” she murmured between kisses.

"Anything for you, love."

[earlgreylatte]

Of Moons, Birds, & Monsters

Where Mark Grayson having a sister changes everything and nothing.

You were privileged in a lot of ways; a nice house in the suburbs, a mother that worked in real estate, a father that wrote travel guides after seeing his novels weren’t doing so well, and they both never laid a hand on you. They were reasonable and raised you with a firm but kind hand. Well, maybe your mother more than your superhero father. But even with his usual absences, you and your brother were without a doubt loved. You are grateful, you really are. On top of the warmth provided by your household, you’re special. You’re different than the rest of the general population, with your father sure you’d inherit the powers inherent to his, your, alien heritage. You had the means to do something greater. A purpose. A higher calling.

People lamented not having such a clear path. Yet, you only felt a growing hollowness in your chest. As if you were barely tethered to reality. And you had no real reason to feel that way, at first. Your mom made sure she was there at every moment, every milestone. Your dad, while busy with his heroics, who would always throw you in the air and catch you in his strong arms, always picking up your favourite pastry from a bakery in the Netherlands. Your younger brother looked up to you with stars in eyes, pestering you to play with him.

But even then, you felt aimless. Apprehensive. Empty when you’re left alone, no one to distract you, and only your thoughts to reign freely.

Your dad had shared his origin with you and Mark when you were twelve and nine year olds. Adding to the puberty talk your mom had already given to you. Mark was excited. Why wouldn’t he be? Awesome powers and a future wearing spandex? That was every kid’s dream. Even you felt anticipation at being able to fly one day.

But the planet your father came from, Viltrumite, only gave you anxiety. Devoting yourself to protect the weak, to the point you’d have to leave your own home planet was a daunting task. You don’t know how your father could do it. Protecting strangers so far from home. You liked the comfort of home. Of being with your family. You didn’t even know what you wanted to be when you grow up.

After your dad sent you two to bed that night, you started up at the glow in the dark stars that covered your ceiling in quiet contemplation. You heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. From beneath your blanket, you slowly pushed yourself up.

“Get in here already,” you call and in an instant, he’s climbed onto your bed, starting at you with barely restrained energy. “Getting a bit too old to need a sleep buddy, Mark.”

Your brother shoves at your shoulder indignantly, “I can sleep by myself! And you sleep with stuffed animals!”

“Hey, stuffed animals are for all ages, you’re never too old for them.”

“That’s not what I came here for!” He protests, “We’re aliens!”

“Half-aliens,” you correct, bringing your knees to your chest.

“Same thing! And—and dad’s Omni-man!” He babbles, a far cry from his quiet awe while he listened to your dad earlier.

“I mean, yeah, Mark. I don’t understand how people don’t know, the moustache is a dead giveaway,” you respond. “And you know I like Darkwing and War Woman more.”

Mark calls out your name in frustration, “Aren’t you even a little psyched? We’re going to be heroes! We could be…Omni Boy and Girl!”

You squint at him in the darkness of your room, “Maybe workshop the names a bit more, and that’s not going to happen for a while. I mean, you should be more concerned on whether or not you’re going to grow or not. It’s not looking good, midget.”

Mark, done with your jackass behaviour, lets out a war cry and tackles you off the bed, landing on one of your ridiculously big stuffed animals. You two laughed as you grappled and shoved at each other, only freezing when the light flickers on.

Your mom stares at you menacingly from the doorway.

Your powers came in when you were thirteen. You had been in school, a teacher droning on about trigonometry, and you felt the telltale signs of tinnitus. When your ears popped, you could hear more than you could even comprehend. You slammed your hands over your ears but you could still hear everything. Dozens of teachers talking to their own classes, the gossip of students, the pipes below, and even the creaking of your school’s infrastructure. Ignoring your teacher’s protests, you left. Running through the halls, for the first and not last time, you ditched school, exiting the building.

Your dad found you across town, in a desolate park, grass overgrown and with splintering benches. It was quiet. Quieter. Away from the noise of traffic and crowds.

He had simply stared at your huddled form before picking you up, and flew high. Higher and higher until the only thing you could focus on was the infinite blue of the sky, fluffy white clouds surrounding you two. Your dad rubbed a large hand over your head comfortingly.

“Usually, strength or flight kicks in before the enhanced senses gradually appear for Viltrum children. But it happened all at once for you. Not unheard of, but definitely unlucky,” your father explains, looking down at your with a complicated look in his eyes. “I knew you would get your powers, but I didn’t…prepare myself or you for it.”

At your silence, he continues, “Your mom was worried when she got that call from school. It’s not everyday your kid pulls a jailbreak from school. So why don’t we go let her know you’re okay and we’re going to start training you. Get you up in the sky and you’ll be able to go to that pop cafe you like so much in Tokyo.”

“Pokémon cafe, dad,” you correct, “Mark’s going to be so jealous.”

He laughs, “Soon enough both of you will be like your old man, thrashing monsters and then…”

When he trails off, he only shakes his head and asks if you want to pick up some food before you go home.

Your brother groans and moans at how he’s going to have to wait to get his powers while you’ll be out with dad. Your mom forbids you from going out as a hero as a middle schooler, not that you’d object. Your dad…

Your dad has always had his obligations. You wouldn’t call him absent, but your mom was the one you’d come home to and the one to tuck you and Mark in every night. So it felt like you were getting to really know him for once. He told you more about his home as he helped you fly, not unlike how any other dad would help their kids learn how to ride a bike.

You don’t really go into detail about your lessons with Mark because you know he’d sulk.

You don’t tell your mom because don’t you want to be cause of a disagreement or fight.

You wouldn’t call yourself an inquisitive kid, but there was something unrealistic about Viltrum. You could believe that food shortages and illness could be eliminated. That technology beyond what you could even imagine what out there. What you couldn’t believe was that indisputable peace could exist.

Conflict, idiocy, and more polluted humans. Any living being that had thought that went beyond survival and instinct would inevitably have their own selfish and nefarious thoughts. The cost of free will. Were humans worst off than other species out there? Surely strife was equal.

Humanity isn’t all bad, of course. That’s why even though there’s hurt and pain in the world, people will always have the ability to make their own choices.

Your dad’s brow knitted whenever you discussed this particular topic. There was a certain superiority he had, which was understandable when you were the strongest on Earth, but it seems to have bled into a certain resentment towards the people he was supposed to protect.

Other times, he described beings like you as shepherds, to herd the flock of sheep. He emphasized duty and responsibility, having to make the hard choices that no one else could make. What those ‘choices’ were, you had no idea.

(Sometimes his face contorts when he thinks you’re not looking. With what emotions is a question you stay up thinking about.)

Your dad is patient with you, a good teacher, really. But there are instances where he’s anxious, rushed as if there is something looming behind him.

(He hits hard enough to having you tearing up at his worst moment before his face twists with regret as he moves to comfort you.

Frustration shines through his eyes when you seem disinterested in your training, wanting to play games with Mark instead. A moment later, he relents. His strange mood remains for a couple hours before disappearing like it never happened.

Neither of you mention it.)

When you’re in high school, your dad takes you to get a proper suit from Arthur. The old man reminiscing with your dad with a comfortable ease. They’re friends, you note. It’s nice to see your dad have these moments with people outside of your family.

Your brother had recommend ‘Omni-Girl’ as a your hero name, but you immediately vetoed it. A title wasn’t too important to you since you were just shadowing your dad. You didn’t feel too motivated to throw yourself out in to the thick of it.

(“You see, sometimes it takes more then one punch to finish the job,” your father explains while holding up an armadillo like beast, “So, don’t become discouraged and don’t be afraid to just let them have it.”

And with that he began pummelling the beast.

“Okay, dad.”)

Eventually your dad’s gentle suggestions to be more proactive become firm orders.

(Your dad is cruel sometimes. To his enemies. Even to you. His grip on you too tight and his words too demeaning. He backs away in regret, apologizes, and buys you whatever food you want afterward.)

You begin to patrol aimlessly. You started out with minor conflicts; muggings and other assholes looking to take advantage of other people. Then you began fighting with super powered criminals, ones that could actually stun you or even hurt you. You weren’t too invested in your hero responsibilities, especially since there were more than enough people to pick up the slack. It was a good after school activity at least.

(You used to be on the field hockey team, but after getting your powers, it would just be unfair. People could get hurt.)

You noticed things getting increasingly difficult. You never anticipated how much things would weigh on you. Having to ignore the screams of helped you were forced to tune into because you didn’t want to fail a midterm. People getting hurt or killed because you weren’t fast enough, that you making the wrong choice or move would always have consequences. The same villains would continue to break out and continue to hurt others, you would beat them to a pulp, take note of the casualties, and the cycle would restart.

You alone had the power and capabilities to make a difference in the lives of so many people. People that can’t rely on the Guardians or Omni-Man to be everywhere. Your inaction alone outweighs the sins of many, you realize.

(Mark calls your name. You jolt out of your thoughts. He had out walked you and was now looking back at you in confusion.

“Why are you so slow? Come on!” The now teen complains, urging you to speed up.

“Dude, it’s not like 7/11 is going to suddenly run out of slushies,” you retort, but jog to catch up with him.

“Why can’t you just fly us?” Mark asks, “We would have been home already.”

“What,” you laugh incredulously, “someone could see us and then they’ll know there’s a super in the neighbourhood, and then boom. You’ll have gotten us doxxed, Mark, and we’ll have to put you and mom in some protection program!”

“Overdramatic much? And it’s not like anyone cares about ‘Singularity’,” Mark whispers the last part, quickly glancing around the empty street. “And that’s such a lame hero name, by the way!”

“You don’t even know what it means,” you scoff.

“And you do? I bet you got it from one of those RPGs you’re always playing!”

“Nah, I just got it from some song.”)

Mark is thirteen and he still hasn’t gotten his powers like you had. Outside the house, your dad looks more worried than Mark does. He rests a hand on your shoulder, tells you that one day you’ll have to step up more. That you need to watch over your brother while he’s just human. When he says that, he looks more calm then you’ve seen him in a long time.

Your mom looks at you worriedly when your back is turned. You get it, you aren’t the most social and your beginning to think your mom knows you don’t really have any friends at school now that she no longer tries to get you to invite anyone over.

You just tease Mark and debate with dad until you feel her worry lessen.

You’re tired. You don’t really have a plan for the future. You try not to think about it too much.

(“We Viltrumites…far outlive humans. Eventually, your aging will slow down enough that while your peers will be old and grey, you won’t even look thirty,” your father reveals one evening. The two of you stand at the peak of Mount Everest, watching the sun set in a mirage of pink and orange. It’s beautiful. “Just, don’t get too attached. One day, it will just be us. Don’t let your heart get broken.”

“What about mom? Mark?” You ask. “If…he’s not like us.”

Your father is silent, he doesn’t deny the possibility, “Then we stay with them. Till the end.”

You don’t ask what you do after.)

You wonder if this is how you’ll spend your days. Fighting and fighting as everything changes around you. Do you stop when you can’t recognize what this planet has become?

You’re not particularly skilled or even much of a good person. You’re more than aware of that. You’re selfish. You’re just human, despite your alien blood. Maybe humans and Viltrumites aren’t too different.

(You’re falling. A giant mecha just tossed you out of the city. People are screaming and running away in terror. No matter how much you punch it and how brutal you are in tearing it apart, it keeps rebuilding itself. It’s been hours. By now, people have already evacuated. You’re exhausted and hungry. You want to go home. You don’t want to be here anymore. But, no one else is coming, it’s just you. This can’t be anyone else’s responsibility but yours.

But, you let yourself fall. You could catch yourself. You don’t. The absolute idiot you are, you don’t catch yourself. You can fly, but you don’t.

You land on someone. You can’t tell their gender or even how old they are. How could you, when you’re sitting in the red, mushy remains of them. They’re nothing more than a bloody mess on the ground. You’re covered in a mix of their fluids and organs. You’re screaming. You can’t stop.

Your dad finds you.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It happens.”

“One life versus thousands.”

“They’re insignificant…in the grand scheme of things. People die so easily. Disease, traffic accidents, even just fading away in their asleep.”

You don’t feel any better.

When you get back home, the two of you eat dinner as mom complains about a client.

You two don’t mention anything about the mecha, despite Mark’s begging, besides that it’s been taken care of.)

You stop fighting the evil geniuses and beasts that were always around, demanding attention from the public. You focus on the monsters that hide in the shadows. The ones that aren’t broadcasted on the news. The ones that take advantage of those weaker. Traffickers and gangs. Women, children, and drugs seem to be what’s circulated. Every time you take down one ring, ten more seem to pop up. It’s just as relentless as the usual villainous devastation.

They work in even the most populated cities, keeping everyone down. Girls go missing and people find themselves in debt to loan sharks that never yield.

No one’s around to see you beat normal people and the occasional super-powered thug to mush.

(“You’re doing good work,” Cecil compliments you, watching as his agents usher victims away from the remains of their prisons. They glance at you as they pass. You pretend you don’t notice. “Wasn’t expecting you to start handling the dirty work. We tend leave this kind of thing to our agents.”

You remain silent. Your father doesn’t answer to him. Neither do you. It was nothing personal. You just didn’t want to feel like a tool, more than you already do, at least.

“I get it. You like to work alone, just like your old man. But it would be better for the victims if you’re at least in contact with us. I— we can help.” Cecil offers you an earpiec .

You hesitate, “Don’t contact me for anything besides leads. I don’t do the whole public hero thing anymore.”

He smirks, “Sure, kid.”)

Your dad stares at you in confusion, and then irritation. You two argue.

“You don’t have to deal with this,” he struggles to find the words, “We’re above this. Squashing insects doesn’t make you any smarter or stronger. This isn’t growth. You’ll never change things, not really. You can’t change humanity.”

“I thought you were here to make a peaceful world,” you interject, “How can you do that if you think people are doomed to be infinitely cruel? Have you given up? You’re literally on a committee with the express purpose of helping people, which I’m doing! Throwing the same morons back into prison isn’t doing anything either!”

“Are you really prepared to change things? To change this world? To see the actual value of humans?” He questions with an intensity that cuts the words in your throat. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“Ready? What are you talking about?” You watch him place a hand over his face before turning away. “Dad?”

“Right now, you can’t make the hard choices,” your father concludes.

You two don’t resolve your disagreement, neither of you willing to bend.

Your mother and Mark try to ease the uncomfortable tension when the both of you are home.

“So, uh, how goes the heroing?” Mark asks, cutting into his lasagna.

“Fine,” you and your dad grunt before glaring at each other.

“And this isn’t awkward at all.”

(Your mom strokes your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going after…a different kind of danger?”

“Not really something to talk about over dinner,” you mumble, laying your head in her lap. “Or brag about.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

You stiffen.

“You’re helping so many people, my baby is a hero. You’re doing so good,” she whispers as your body shakes with sobs, “You always see what others don’t. My considerate girl.”)

You graduate. Rather than go to school, you pick up a camera. You get pictures of heroes no one else can get, see views that only you can find. You also don’t mind doing wedding pictures for some extra cash. You travel, you sometimes run into your dad in the skies. You two are better now. He probably sees your motivations as a phase. And maybe he’s right when it comes to near immortal beings.

Things are okay. Everything seems kind of grey, dull, even, but it’s okay.

Mark calls you one night. He got his powers. Something in you shrivels up. A foreboding feeling washing over you.

You come home. You and your dad sit at the kitchen table.

“You look like the world is ending,” you comment, narrowing your eyes when he doesn’t immediately reply. “I thought you were waiting for him to…become like us.”

“Things are going to be busy with me training Mark for the next little bit,” he speaks up, “I’d appreciate it if you stepped up a bit more.”

“…why? You seemed on top of things when I got my powers,” you note.

“We don’t have that kind of time anymore, Mark is already a late bloomer. I need to get him to your level as soon as possible. You’ve been slacking off on your training too. You’re only getting faster and your senses might be better than mine, but you need to get stronger, to stop holding back,” he stares down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.

“You’re acting like you’re on a deadline,” you observe, “Are you okay?”

“Just,” he breathes out, “keep an eye out.”

Before you can say anything else, you hear your mom shuffle out of bed above you.

“Alright.”

Mark begins his training and your dad is weirdly wired. A tension residing in him. It’s noticeable to you and your mother.

(You find yourself comparing Mark to a cocoon. Metamorphosis. It’s hard to believe how much he’s grown. How much he’s growing. Who he’ll become.

Invincible, he declares as his name.

“Why can I still see you?” You ask, lounging on his bed.

“You’re not funny,” he scowls. You push yourself up.

“It’s a good name,” you smile at him. “But you do know we can still get the crap beaten out of us, even dad.”

“I know that!” Mark protests, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it and throw it with more than a little force.

Mark huffs as he catches it before, sending it back. And before you know it, you two are tussling like you’re kids again, trying to put the other in a headlock.

“Someone is suddenly a little too confident,” you laugh, before shoving him into the wall.

“And I think someone needs to knock you down a peg, you tyrant! You can’t bully me anymore!” Mark lunges at you but you simply step out of the way as he crashes onto the floor.

He huffs before letting out a chuckle, “We haven’t roughhoused like this since…you got your powers, I think.”

You pause, “I mean if I bumped into you too hard, you’d probably explode.”

“Hey! I wasn’t that scrawny!”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Just be careful around other people.” You warn before grinning, “I mean, yeah, you’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer so I did have to be extra delicate with you—!”

With a battle cry, Mark charges at you as you two begin grappling again. You both freeze when you hear your mom clearing her throat at the doorway.

“Sorry, mom.”

“My bad.”)

You meet your dad at the peak of Mount Everest once again. You’ve both gotten into the habit of visiting when you needed to think. He hasn’t come in a while.

“Sweetheart, do you trust me?” He asks finally turning to stare at you, bathed in orange light as the sky turns to dusk. “That I want the best for you and your brother. Your mother.”

“Of course I do, dad,” you say honestly. Despite his faults, he’s your dad and you know that he loves his family above all else.

“Then I need you to be strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been before.” He brings you in for a hug, cradling your head as if you were still a little girl. “You should go home tonight. I’ll be out late.”

“Okay, dad.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, get some rest.”

You don’t see him tomorrow, not really.

Your mom and brother jolt when they see you come down the stairs, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Both of them already ready to start their day, unlike you.

“Honey, I didn’t realize you were here!” Your mom exclaims.

Your brother shoots you a look, “When did you even get here?”

“A couple of hours ago,” you yawn halfway through your words. “Dad not home?”

Your mom frowns, “No, he didn’t come back last night.”

“Mom, stop worrying,” Mark reassures her, “he probably got buried under a mountain again or something.”

You remain silent as she chuckles, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

She heads to the door after telling you she bought more of your usual tea from the store as Mark picks up a box of cereal. “Don’t be late for school—“

You hear her gasp as two men in black stand outside your door.

Donald leads you into a government operated hospital, his exchange with Mark passing over you.

You’ve been here before. A couple of times. When you were inexperienced. You’ve never seen your dad beaten enough to warrant a visit.

Your brother and mother rush into his room, your father laying unconscious on a gurney, hooked up to different beeping machines. You stagger a bit behind them, noticing Cecil in the corner, who nods at you.

Your ears are buzzing as you look away, watching your mother already hover above your father.

“Who did this?” Mark asks sharply.

“We have no idea,” Cecil cuts in, as everyone turns to look at him. “Not yet, anyway. But we’ll find out and when we do, they’ll look a hell of a lot worse than your dad over there.”

He introduces himself to Mark, shaking his hand before acknowledging your mom. “Deborah. I’m so sorry.”

She stands up, glaring, “Cecil, you’ve got a lot of nerve—!”

“Someone murdered the Guardians of the Globe last night,” he interrupts as your mother gasps and your brother lets out an astonished ‘oh my god’.

It takes every muscle in your body to not flinch as you stare down at your comatose dad. Your dad never joined their team despite their numerous offers. He said liked to work alone. Even if attended their numerous parties and get togethers. Even when he laughed with them.

Cecil sighs, “All of them. Tore them down limb from limb. We tried like hell to bring them back, but Nolan was the only survivor.”

“How is that even possible?” Mark asks.

“We don’t know yet. We also don’t know why your dad was at Guardians HQ,” Cecil continues. “A working theory is whoever killed the Guardians, lured him down there to try to wipe them all out at once.”

You ignore Mark’s confusion and Cecil’s pragmatism. Your mother’s tearful demands wash over you, distraught that even your father could have a brush with death.

But you can’t focus on that.

You exit the room.

You might have been the last person your father saw before the attack yesterday. No, you know you were the last one.

(“—do you trust me?”)

“Your brother is out dealing with an invasion,” Cecil informs you, finding your crouched form in the hallway over.

You jolt up, “Where?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Not your area of focus, right? I’ve already sent the Teen Team to assist him.”

You’ve met them before. Members in between yours and Mark’s age. They asked you to join them, maybe two years ago.

“He’s new,” you remark, “I should—“

“Singularity,” Cecil interrupts, something he seems fond of doing, “You’re currently the strongest person on Earth.”

You freeze.

“I respect you. You do the work no one notices or wants to notice. The stuff that’s hard to digest. You don’t do it for the fame or recognition. I understand why you don’t want to get involved with the government, but I need your cooperation right now. Whoever did this could come after you next—“

You doubt it.

“And we need someone to pick up the slack more than ever. Can I count on you? Even if it means you’ll be out in the light?”

“Okay,” you nod.

“That easy?” He asks. You shrug.

“What do you need me to do?”

“As much as you can.”

You’ve never not lived in a cycle. You’re back where you started. Just beating down the bad guy that Cecil points you at.

Dragons, hairy beasts, and the Lizard League.

You’d rather you do it than Mark. He has enough to worry about.

You wonder what’s going to happen now. Cecil was using you to close the power vacuum the death of the Guardians would leave. You had to be fast and efficient so no one would notice their absence. So no one would get any smart ideas. You were sending a message that there were plenty of other heroes to fear. At least for the next few days.

You wish time would stop moving forward, just for a little bit. You feel so tired. You don’t want to do this. You’re sick of seeing people hurt other people. Of having to hurt people. But what would you be if you looked away? What would your family think of you if you didn’t help when you had the ability to do so? Were you anyone without these powers at this point?

Your life consisted of nothing but the job, whether it was black market dealers or experiments gone wrong, you had to wear the suit.

(“—be strong.”)

You almost dread the moment your father will awaken. It won’t be long. They might not know much about your species’ durability, but you had a guess.

(“Hey,” Mark’s voice echoes from your phone. “I saw you on TV. Back in the limelight, a bunch of theorists think you’re trying out for the Globe.”

He pauses.

“If,” he starts, “If you need any help—“

“Focus on school,” you interject. “And I heard you fought off those Flaxans pretty well yesterday.”

You hear his breath stutter.

“I know mom left some stuff in the freezer, but do you want me to pick up anything?”

“Sushi,” Mark replies instantly.

“Yeah, I think there’s a place near me—“

“From that one place in Nagoya.”

“Bro.”

“Bro,” Mark pleads, “I know you carry that insulated bag with you. I’ll pay you back.”

“With your burger money?”

“Elitist, but yeah.”

“I’d feel like a bully, so just buy me, like, fifteen milkshakes.”

“I think that’s still just extortion.”)

You get a frantic call from your mom that he’s awake. When you burst into his room you narrowly avoiding your brother crashing into you.

“Careful,” you chide him but he ignores you to approach the now conscious man.

You watch them.

After changing out of your costume and into your civvies, you watch Mark brush off your father’s hand. You sigh. Your mother told you the older woman he had saved hadn’t made it. Your father didn’t seem too concerned, instead turning to the nurse at the front desk, demanding his costume back.

“Manners,” you scold, walking to stand next to him. He only glances at you as the nurse leaves to retrieve the damaged suit.

“You did good, covering for me,” he commends.

“Guess I’ll have to do it a little longer while you recover,” you note. “Don’t take too long, I have my own stuff to get back to.”

Your dad only scoffs before your mother intervenes.

“I’m just glad we’ll all be home again!”

You and your father share a glance. He knows you know.

“I gotta get going,” you step away, “I just wanted to make sure dad was okay. Cecil needs me to go do…something.”

(“Why didn’t you and dad ever tell me that there’s an orange, telepathic cyclops alien that shows up every once in a while?” Mark demands.

“Oh, I don’t know. Three years ago, while I was chilling on the moon, he showed up, I punched him, and then I got to dad to deal with it,” you explain, “Freaked me out.”

“And you didn’t try to talk to him?”

“I was in the middle of some really deep thinking when he showed up,” you defend yourself, “But, he had the wrong planet? That’s funny.”

He groans out your name in exasperation.)

“Singularity,” Cecil’s voice rings out in your ear, “You’re needed. Your brother and the Teen Team aren’t doing so hot—“

“Send me the coordinates.”

When you’re fifty kilometres away, your dad joins you.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You ask.

He ignores you, “These Flaxans are on their third attempt to invade?”

“That’s right.”

He grunts, “Let me show you how to nip this kind of thing in the bud.”

“What?”

“Follow my lead. We’ll talk after. I know I owe you that much.”

When you arrive, Mark is being beaten by a Flaxan in a mech suit. Speeding up, you punch the alien off your baby brother, before tossing him into the air with a yell. Omni-man catches him as you turn away.

“Are you okay?” You fret as you crouch down to lift him out of the crater he was slumped in. He groans in pain before perking up at seeing your dad.

In his usual effortless fashion, Omni-man has the army’s attention as he wipes the aliens out in an instant after proving that their attacks could do nothing to him.

Your brother watches in awe as he forces the intruders to retreat back into their portals.

“Singularity,” he calls out from above you, nudging his head toward the last of the Flaxans. The one in the mech suit, the one that wanted to beat your brother to death, still wasn’t keen on leaving, despite the portal behind him.

You close your eyes before turning to your brother, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he stares at you in confusion. “You did good.”

And in the next instant, in tandem, you and Omni-man fly at the enemy with a burst of speed, the three of you disappearing into the portal. The last thing you hear is Mark call out for your dad, and for you. Your name echoing from behind you. You couldn’t even blame him for the secret identity thing.

(Their planet was red. The rocks beneath your feet, the lighting, and even the fear in their eyes as they started at you like you were their reckoning.

“You don’t seem to understand,” Your dad speaks with a menace in his tone unlike anything you’ve ever heard, “Earth isn’t yours to conquer.”

“Dad?”

He looks back at you, and he’s almost remorseful, “Just watch, and I promise I’ll explain everything.

You couldn’t even move if you wanted to. You watched a civilization fall to ruin, buildings collapsing, innocents screaming. It wouldn’t stop. Your dad, who used to throw you in the air until you were screaming with joy, always catching you with strong hands, was now the cause of pure terror.

With a surge of courage, you tackle him, both of you plummeting down to the ground.

“What are you doing?” You cry, gripping his face, “Just stop!”

He says your name, hands grabbing your wrists, “This is what needs to be done.”

“You’re insane,” you state, “you’re actually insane—“

In a quick turn, he throws you down by the wrists before you can react, with a strength you’ve never experienced before.

When you sit up, the screams are louder. Your crash created a crater, but your eyes widen at the sudden warmth you feel, covering your legs, back, and hands.

It’s red. Not again. It’s red.

It’s in your mouth, in your nose, and the only thing you can see is red.

You think you’re screaming, crying. You’re fourteen again, the same idiot that fell and caused devastation. You can’t breathe, you’re choking on your own sobs. You don’t know how much time has passed, only blinking into awareness when you feel your father pulling you into his arms, shushing you as he presses your face into his shoulder.

You cry out in defiance, pushing your hands against him, but his grip only tightens against you.

“It’s okay, it’s over,” he whispers.

“You killed them,” you hiccuped, “The Guardians—“

“I had to—“

“You didn’t! You didn’t have to—“

“I know this is hard, that you never wanted to be a hero,” he interrupts, “And a part of me was always glad about that. That you recognized the futility of it all. But, that only makes it worse on you. You more than anyone knows how crooked and violent that world is, that no matter how many so called heroes appear, it will never end. Not unless people like us step in. Force them to stop, even if it means having to be cruel, to be the monsters in their eyes. For the greater good.”

“Dad—“

“From the moment I stepped foot onto that planet, its fate was already decided. That Earth would become a part of our empire. No more disease or famine. No more lives being sold or slaughtered. But, I faltered. If you and Mark were just human——I couldn’t let them find out about you. But you’re not human. And you don’t need to have these human problems anymore,” he continues, stroking your hair with his bloodied hand. “But I need you to be strong. For your brother and mom. For yourself. For your survival and theirs. We can’t defy the empire. The weak aren’t allowed to live among us, so you need to stop crying.”

“No, no, I can’t,” you try to object.

“You can and you will. For a better world, one where your mom can grow old in, where you and your brother will have each other as everyone around you ages and dies. This is the only way, your empathy will only doom you. Us. So let me—-let me make the hard choices until you can.” He finishes as you cease struggling, only lying limply against him.

As your vision blackens, you hope you don’t wake up.

(Time passes on a different rate on this planet. Your father forces its inhabitants to send you back home, something they are more than willing to do. The days blur together, your father gently cajoling you into drinking and eating in your detached state, cradling you to his chest like you’re a kid. Maybe you still are one. Still unable to handle the pressure, stupid and weak as you are.

You leave behind death and destruction as you return back to your planet, guided by your father.)

You and your father leave those issues outside of the house, so when you return home, your gait is casual even if you look battered.

Entering first, your father walks in, only a bit tired, as if he hasn’t doomed a whole planet.

“I need a shower,” he sighs.

“I called dibs,” you shoot back, following behind him as if you hadn’t spent days crying and cursing him out.

Mark and your mom jump from their seats, pulling you two into an embrace.

“Woah, group hug?” You laugh as your dad holds all three of you in his arms.

You stop when you hear the announcer on the TV declare that the Guardians are dead.

A day later, you find yourself dressed in black, accompanying your family to the televised funeral of the Guardians; heroes, civilians, and the press all attending.

Your father, the murderer, begins his eulogy. You clench your coat in between your fists, scrunching your eyes closed. It’s almost laughable.

Your mom nudges you, “Are you alright? You look…anxious.”

You smile at her, “Just a bit crowded.”

Hours later, you attend the second, and real, funeral. Olga sobbing as the actual caskets lay in front of you. You hold an umbrella over your mother’s head as your father begins to speak. You wonder how sincere he’s being.

“Good to see you again, despite the circumstances. I didn’t realize you three were all related,” Eve greets you.

“Don’t want any nepotism accusations. You know how it is,” you joke with Mark scoffing at you, but you notice his lips twitch.

People soon begin to leave as the rain continues. You watch from a distance as the detective from hell stands off against your father. He’s onto him. You shudder.

(When you turn to leave, your parents stop you.

“Honey, are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Your mom looks at you in worry, you feel like that’s all you do to her now.

“Come on, you can choose what we have for dinner,” your dad bribes. You keep your face flat.

“Some publishers approached me about some of my action shots. For the Guardian’s memorial pages,” you explain, squeezing Mark’s arm before turning away.

You feel your father’s stare until you disappear from sight.)

“You sure you won’t consider a place on the team? I wouldn’t even ask you to tryout,” Cecil offers.

“You said you had a ring you wanted me to dismantle?” You deflect.

The man studies you, “Are you okay? Looking a little worse for wear there.”

“Not a fan of funerals.”

“Who is?” The man clears his throat, “You know, we offer a lot of services for heroes. In case, you needed someone to talk to. Our NDAs are ironclad.”

You jolt, “What? I’m fine. Just…tired.”

You don’t meet his dubious gaze.

(Your mom pulls you aside one day.

“You know you can talk to me,” your mom says, “I know you’d want Mark to talk about his problems. You can do the same. You don’t have to leave it out of the house, like your father says to.”

“I know, mom,” you reply.

She frowns at you, “Cecil told me…about what happened when you were younger. It wasn’t your fault.”

You hum, “It was a long time ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I asked dad to keep it secret. I didn’t want to…”

When you trail off, she wraps her arms around you, “You’ve helped so many people, but you don’t have to keep doing it. Not at the expense of yourself. It’s your life, you’re still young. Do what makes you happy. You can stop.”

Once, those words would have been your salvation. Now, it’s no longer an option.

“I know, mom,” you smile.

She pulls away to cup your face, “When was the last time you ate something?”

“I had a light breakfast,” you lie.

“Then you’ll have room for some soup. I made your favourite,” she declares confidently, but you see the defeat in her eyes.)

“You have a girlfriend?” You question.

“Why are you saying it like that?” Mark demands.

“Dude, you’re a superhero, high school student slash part timer! How are you going to have any time left?” You ask.

“I’ll make it work,” he insists.

“You’re delusional.”

“And you’re mean.”

(“…are you okay? You’re a bit quiet.” Mark later asks as you two play your usual racing game.

“Need to focus to beat you.”

“You’re in last place. Like always,” Mark teases, “And I meant it in, like, general.”

“Just adult stuff.”

“I’m literally eighteen now.”

“You’re a baby.”

“You can’t even legally drink alcohol yet!”

“In this country.”

“I’m telling mom!”

“I didn’t say I actually drank anything, you snitch!”)

You avoid going home for a while.

Your father hasn’t made any moves. He won’t make any. He’s hesitating. The childish part of you thinks it’s because he’s your father before a Viltrumite. Even if you don’t visit home, you visit him. You argue. You scream. He threatens and bargains. Sometimes he almost reveals something human. Other times, he berates you. Telling you that you’d be the cause of Earth’s destruction, unless you listen.

You can’t fight him.

No matter how many times you try to imagine it, you don’t see yourself beating your dad. You don’t think you could even try.

(Mark calls you one night. He wants to help take down a gang. You already know your father wasn’t happy about that.

“If you feel like your intel is legitimate then go for it. Dad’s never appreciated anything that doesn’t involve some epic battle.” You explain. “You need backup?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s just this teleporter dude I have to worry about.”

“Remain vigilant, you never what kind of BS desperate idiots will pull.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m more worried about Amber—“

You groan, “You high schoolers are actually so annoying.”)

The next time you see your family, Mark is half dead and being operated on. You can only watch as your parents argue behind you. Your mom pulls you away from the operating room window.

You and your mom stay overnight while your father visits after his patrols. He doesn’t wake up until nearly a week later.

You almost laugh when the first thing on his mind is how he blew off his girlfriend.

(As you’re leaving, Cecil pulls you aside.

“Hey, is everything alright with you and your dad?” He asks. He almost sounds like a CPS worker.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You seem to be avoiding him like the plague, is all. I thought you two were close.” He comments.

Your mouths opens but no sound escapes it. You almost tell him. But you hear your dad’s footsteps approaching.

“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you chuckle, “I really have to get going though.”)

You’re in Iceland, taking photos of puffins, living in existential dread. This is your life now.

You nearly cry when your phone’s ring rouses you from your sleep. You look around in confusion before realizing you’re in your hotel room. The ringing ends, only to begin again, vibrating noisily against your nightstand.

It’s your mom. You pick up the phone.

“Honey, listen to me carefully—!”

The call cuts off.

“Seriously?” You huff, realizing your phone just died before getting up to search for your charger, rooting around your bag.

After ten minutes of less than fruitful looking, you exit your hotel room to go ask the front desk if they have one instead.

When you walk out of the elevator, you notice a crowd of employees huddled around the lobby television.

When you take a closer look, you notice a familiar kaiju beating up Omni-man and Invincible. Your dad and brother. And Immortal is back from the dead. And now trying to kill your dad.

Phone forgotten, you fly back to your room ignoring the people blown back, looking around confused.

With your costume now on you take off faster than you ever have before. Iceland to somewhere outside of Chicago. Yeah, definitely easy.

By the time you arrive, you see that the kaiju is tied up and that the Immortal is in two pieces on the ground. But your father and brother are missing.

You close your eyes and listen. Before turning to look at where Chicago is; people screaming, buildings collapsing.

“Oh, fuck.”

You find them in a destroyed subway tunnel. Mark covered in red. Your dad’s hand tainted with the same colour. You can smell it. The remains of hundreds of people scattered among the rubble.

Mark whispers your name. He’s scared and he’s hurt, and it’s all Omni-man’s fault.

“Mark,” you begin gently, “Get out of here. Go find mom.”

He starts to protest, but your dad interrupts him, calling your name sternly, eyes red and bloodshot. “Neither of you are anywhere. Not until you both understand.”

“You’ve lost it,” you laugh before charging at him in an instant, arms hooking around him as you break through the damaged ceiling, throwing him into the orange sky above, away from the crying city. Before he can regain his balance, you strike him again, to create more distance.

“You’re still not listening,” He admonishes before closing the gap, gripping you by the shoulders. “My time here has been a speck in the span of my life. You don’t know me, neither of you do. I will burn this planet before I spend another minute living among these animals.”

“Animals?” You’re almost hysterical at this point, “Are you saying that you’d start a family with an animal, you sick fucking bastard—“

He goes to strike you, but you place a hand between his shoulder and neck, and you squeeze—

He shouts in pain but you ignore it, you have to ignore it, as you bring your other hand to punch him down.

You’re not stronger than him. But you are faster. And he’s weak. Tired.

You tackle him in the air, head against his hip as you crush back into the ground a couple hundred miles away from where you left Mark.

He growls your name throwing a punch that you duck under, kicking him in the ribs with punishing force.

He stares at you shocked. For the first time, you’re brutal with your blows, unrelenting. He can take it.

With a cry, you charge again.

Kicking, punching, and even biting, you exchange blows with your father as if you two were nothing more than beasts that are beyond reason.

With a quick kick to his knee, you force him to stagger, seizing the opportunity to wrap your hands around his neck and push him down, following him as you crouch above, and squeeze, trying to crush his windpipes so he can never let out a breath again, never hurt anyone again.

One of his hands grips your forearm, breaking it, but you don’t relent. His other hand, slams against your ribs repeatedly until your choking back blood, but you can’t relent.

As you watch his eyes grow redder and dazed, you realize he’s crying.

No, he’s not crying. Your own tears are falling onto his face.

Mark shouts your name, and you stop immediately, pulling your hands back, frightened.

Your dad struggles to breath again, staring up at you.

“You were almost there,” he exhales, and maybe you imagine it, but you see guilt flash across his expression, before he jabs four of his fingers through your stomach, before pulling out, blood coating his knuckles as you gasp. You feel frozen before you begin to tip, falling onto the ground as your father gets up. He turns you to your side as blood gushes out of your mouth. The gentleness contrasting his cruelty.

(When you were younger, every Christmas, Mark would wake up at the asscrack of dawn to run downstairs. Your mom would have to stop him, telling him he would have to wait for you to wake up before you could all open your presents as a family.

So, every Christmas, he would burst into your room, jumping onto your bed, shaking you as he called your name over and over—)

He’s calling your name over and over, begging you to get up. Mark, your baby brother, hovers above you. He’s crying. You try to ask why didn’t he leave. To warn him that Omni-man is behind him. You’re forced to watch as the man you called dad wrenches Mark away from you despite his struggles, taking off into the sky again.

You slowly but surely begin to shift your legs, moving your unbroken arm against the ground to push yourself up. You ignore your trembling limbs and the way your body cries in protest.

You nearly fall back down, when a sphere like drone begins to speak. Cecil.

“Stay down, we’ll send help—“

“Where,” you breathe out, ignoring the blood seeping out as you talk, “are they?”

Cecil tries to stop you in vain but you push yourself up into a kneeling position, watching blood pour out of your stomach.

“Coordinates.”

Nepal. Mount Everest.

Should you laugh or cry?

You find them in a crater. Because that’s what you Viltrumites do, get beaten until the ground cracks beneath you. Mark is worse off than you, you think. Face bloodied and brutalized. Omni-Man standing above him, a weird tension in his body. He’s distraught. He turns to meet your gaze.

He leaves. Straight into the sky, away from you.

Mark murmurs your name. You stagger over to him before dropping to your knees.

“It’s over, it’s okay, you’re okay,” you whisper, gripping his hand. He’s battered and beaten, but he’s alive. Your brother is alive. “…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mark.”

You stay there for hours, as Mark loses consciousness. Only perking up when you hear the noise of Cecil’s helicopter. Your mom jumps out alongside paramedics. Her hands hover above you brokenly, as she takes in your injured body, tears in her eyes.

You watch as Mark is carried away.

“‘M sorry, mom,” you apologize, feeling your sight blur before collapsing, as your mom holds onto you, calling for help.

You hope you don’t wake up.

You wake up before Mark. Your mom at your side. You feel like a walking bruise. Your arm in a cast, and your stomach flickering between numbness and agony.

She’s stroking your head. You can tell she’s still holding back tears.

“You did so good,” she whispers. You fall asleep to her assurances.

Despite seeming to be in worse state than you, Mark is out of bed before you. Your stomach wound is particularly annoying, it seems. You did not enjoy having to use a feeding tube.

He stares down at you, with teary eyes. “I’m—“

“Thanks for stopping me, Mark, I don’t think I would have survived, otherwise.”

His face cracks.

“He told me before you.” You admit. “It’s my fault, not yours. I didn’t want you or mom to know. I thought I could stop him, change his mind. I guess I didn’t really know him. Don’t blame yourself.”

“You shouldn’t either,” Mark responds, gripping your hand, “It wasn’t right, how he was treating you, what he told you——you were just a kid. Even now, it’s still not okay, you’re his daughter. He shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

When you look at him in confusion, he elaborates, “He mentioned some of the stuff he told you. It wasn’t fair of him to make you hide that stuff. You were only thirteen, and even now…”

You close your eyes when you feel them water. You didn’t want him or mom to feel guilty. Not because of you. Because you were too weak to even have made a difference.

“It’s going to be okay, he’s,” your brother chokes, “gone now.”

When your brother is cleared to go home, you insist they return without you. That they’ve spent enough time in a hospital. Your mom acquiesces. You feel worse because she probably thinks you’re trying to avoid her. For not knowing. But that was your choice, your fault, not hers.

Nolan Grayson is dead. Omni-man is a traitor to humanity. You know things are only going to get worse from here.

You startle when you hear a knock on your temporary room’s door.

“We need to talk.” Cecil states, making himself comfortable in the chair adjacent to your bed.

You sigh wearily.

“Let’s talk.”

Omni-man: Sweetie, you’re not like other girls, and I mean that in a non-misogynistic way.

Singularity:

*

Omni-man, watching as Singularity has a panic attack on the bloodied remains of Flaxans: I really need you to not snitch on me. We’ll literally all die. It’s your fault, by the way.

*

Omni-man: I made her strong!

Cecil: You gave her PTSD and depression??

*

Singularity, staring into the mirror: you stupid piece of shit, go kill yourself

Debbie:

*

Rex: Yeah, and Invincible has a hot sister—

Mark: Yeah—wait, what!?

Rex: you have a hot sister?

Mark: We are so not cool anymore!

*

Omni-man after gravely injuring Singularity: Oh my Shaylaaaaa

Omni-man after beating the shit out of Mark: Why did you make me do this!?

*

Rex: So, I’m single, you’re single, so why don’t we—

Mark: No, not doing this, nope.

Singularity: how to kms

*

Singularity after being dropped in DC: No, you can’t adopt me! Wtf is wrong with you, besides your dumbass name

Batman: I will get you therapy

I somehow finished this before season 3, omg. Yeah Nolan isn’t a good person and definitely put too much pressure on an actual child. I think I did decent with hinting that even before season one, he had issues, especially having to train his daughter. And most people wouldn’t notice because he screams girl dad but he’s actually bad!!

Also please, please tell me if there are any grammar errors in this behemoth. The notes app doesn’t have spellcheck! Or word count…

Masterlist

[skz143me]

Jealous idols

In which Bang Chans girlfriend gets jealous of how much time he’s spending with BLACKPINK’s, Lisa

Bang Chan x reader

DISCLAIMER: no hate to any of the idols, this fic was written in pure fiction!!

Bang Chan was the biggest green flag Y/N had ever met. When she had first auditioned for Stray Kids, she didn’t have much hope of getting in. Most of the mentors said she didn’t speak enough Korean, or that a girl didn’t fit into the place of a boy directed group.

When she met Chan, all of that changed.

He was the sweetest person ever. He coached her and comforted her. He was everything she needed.

When Skz finally debuted, Y/N ended up being one of the most biased members by STAY.

Eventually, Y/N pursued a romantic relationship with Chan, and the two were happier than ever.

They had been together for about a year, with barely any problems, and it was great.

Y/N had been friends with Lisa for a while now. They bonded at a red carpet, after both being voted two of the most successful female idols in the industry. Y/N knew that Chan would hang out with Lisa sometimes, and at first, she didn’t mind it at all. But, eventually, things got a bit out of hand.

It seemed as if Chan was with her everyday, whether it was posting videos on social media, or just hanging out. Chan had even attended Lisa’s concert. Despite them both insisting it was just a deep friendship, Y/N wasnt very convinced. So, she decided to talk to her boyfriend about it.

Chan walked into the house, seemingly exhausted from a long day at the studio. The other members were already asleep, so Y/N took this as the perfect moment to share her concerns with Chan.

“Hey, Chris?” He turned his head, his tired eyes meeting hers.

“Yeah?” He said, sounding genuinely concerned in what her next words would be.

“Did you hang out with Lisa today?” She asked, keeping her voice as nonchalant as possible.

Chan pored himself a glass of water and nodded. “Yeah, we met up. Why, baby?” His eyes were back on Y/N.

“Chris..I’m just going to be honest with you”, Y/N felt her hands shake a bit, some anxiety overwhelming her. “I’m a bit concerned about how much time you’ve been spending with Lisa.”

He looks up at her, looking confused and a bit shocked. “Wait, why?”

She took a breath and spoke again, “I just feel like you’re spending a lot more time with her than me, and well, I don’t know I guess I’m jealous.”

Chans lips turned into a frown. “Y/N, Lisa is just a friend. I mean, we’ve known each other longer than I’ve known you. So please, can we not talk about this.”

Y/N is hurt by his words, so she gently nods and walks away. She feels her cheeks heat up, tears pricking at her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, so she goes to her one safe space. Her best friend.

Y/N walks into the room and flops onto the bed, not bothering to say anything.

“Um, hello to you too?” Felix says, in a half chuckle. “What’s going on?”

Y/N sits up and rubs her eyes. “Chans mad because I told him he was spending to much time with Lisa”.

Felix nods slowly, trying his best to come up with something encouraging to say. “Want me to talk to him?”

Y/N shakes her head, “No. I don’t want him to get anymore upset than he already is.”

A few moments later, Y/N hears her phone buzz. She takes it out of her pocket and sees a new text from Lisa.

LALISA <3

Hey Y/N, Chris told me what happened and I just wanted to let you know I’m so sorry for making you feel like that. You’re a great person and I’m always going to try and be there for you. I want you to know, you can always come to me and tell me things like that. I’m so glad I know now so I can help respect your boundaries. I hope we’re okay. Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow at brunch pretty girl 💗🖤

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the message. Felix saw this and smiled to himself.

So she had resolved things with Lisa, which took a huge weight off her back. But she still needed to fix things with Chris-

Another buzz from her phone interrupts her train of thought. She looks at her phone again to see a message pop up from Chris.

Channie 🐺🤍

Baby, I’m so so so so so sorry for making you feel sad 😔

I love you so much and I want to show you I any way I can. I’m always going to be there for you. I love you. 💗

You smiled again. Maybe this would work out after all.

[thoughtcascades]

I’m going through a period where I’ve been thinking a lot. I’ve known this 34-year-old guy for 6 months. We met at a concert where we liked each other from the start and kissed there. After the concert, we decided to meet for a quick lunch where we started to get to know each other better. After the lunch, though, some time passed, and he started telling me that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and that he would prefer to keep things between us more casual, seeing each other every now and then with no strings attached. He then invited me to his birthday in November, and I thought it was a special gesture, but the night went badly because he kissed another girl in front of me. After that night, we argued and didn’t talk for a while until I randomly bumped into him in a club, where he asked me if I had forgiven him, and we spent the evening together, though not very closely. After the Christmas holidays, I texted him to check how he was doing, and we met up at a club with some friends. We talked, he made a few jokes, and that was it. Last Saturday, he invited me to his house, we talked a lot, and he told me that he was going through a tough time because a girl he liked and had dated for two months in December and January told him she didn’t want a relationship with him. He confided in me, saying that now he wants to focus on himself while waiting for the right girl and the chemistry he’s looking for. In all of this, I’m wondering where I stand. I don’t understand why he doesn’t consider me, I don’t get why he doesn’t acknowledge what’s happened between us, and now I feel like I’ve been played. I don’t even know if I like him enough to be with him, but I feel like I want to talk to him. I’d like to confess, but at the same time, I don’t want to because I feel that if I wait, things will happen on their own. I really don’t know what to do, and my head is a mess

He doesn't want you. Not the way you want him to. You're not his choice, you're his backup, his ego boost, his emotional scratching post when he's feeling low. And you let him. You're not fighting for him, you're fighting for the time you wasted, the version of him that never existed. And every second you keep hoping, waiting, bleeding for him, you lose another piece of yourself. Confess? To what? So he can shrug, say he "doesn't feel that way", or worse, string you along for another round of heartbreak? Stop waiting. Stop rotting for him. Walk away and let this burn. Because if you don't, he'll keep watching you fall apart and he still won't give a damn.

[samdeancass]

Sarcastic Stiles

Pairing: Stiles x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Characters: Stiles, Y/N, Scott, Derek

Description: As usual, Stiles gets the both of you into trouble when his sarcasm begins to play a part in a dangerous situation.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears from the speed you were running. Looking back, you noticed that there was no one behind you and stopped, leaning on your knees to catch your breath. “I’m gonna kill Stiles.” Running footsteps sounded behind you and you glanced back, feelings of both relief and frustration washing over you as Stiles emerged from the corner. 

He ran up to you and gathered you in a hug before dramatically leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “What?” Raising your eyebrows, you rested your hands on your hips. “You know exactly what! Did you really have to throw your bat at them?! We were supposed to be doing recon, not angering the bad guys!”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders before leaning up straight against the wall. “They were plotting something, something that I assume wasn’t good; and I needed to do something.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head at your boyfriends idiotic actions. Looking up, fear panged in your chest as you noticed one of the guys heading straight towards the two of you. Walking back, you grabbed Stiles’ hand, which also alerted him to the situation. You both quickly turned and ran the other way before another guy headed towards you. You were cornered in the back streets of Beacon Hills. 

Stiles turned his back to the wall and tucked you behind him protectively. With his body shielding you, you were able to hit the speed dial on your phone to call Scott. “Hey guys, how’s it goin’?” The two guys looked at each other and laughed. “Why don’t you tell us, smart guy? Since you and your little girlfriend were spying on us.” One of the guys made eye contact with you but Stiles moved so the guys’ sight was only on him. “All I know is that you were planning something bad and we decided to stop you. Y’know, before you ended up tearing apart the town we call home?” 

A feeling of relief washed over you as you heard Scott answer the phone. “Y/N? What’s going on?” When you didn’t answer, you could tell that Scott knew that your plan had gone a little sideways. He whispered into the phone that he was gonna use the GPS on your phone to find the both of you and hung up. Throughout the phone call, you realised you missed the other guys telling all about their genius plan. Your heart dropped, though, when Stiles answered them. “Seriously, it took you about 10 minutes to tell us that? I’ve aged, like, 80 years since talking to you.” You knew that his mouth would get you in trouble one day, and it seemed like that day was today. 

One of the men lunged forward and grabbed you from behind Stiles and held you tight to his body. A wave of nausea washed over you as you felt the mans breath on the back of your neck. “Now why would you bring such a beautiful girl like her to a horrible place like this? It’s like you’re asking for her to be taken.” The man’s breath fanned over the side of your face as he leaned down and ghosted kisses on your cheek. Tears fell down your cheeks as you struggled against him, but he strengthened his grip. Stiles lunged forward but was grabbed by the other man. “Get off her! Y/N, baby, look at me, everything’s going to be alright. I’m so sorry I got you into this.” The man holding you grabbed rope from his pocket and bound your hands behind you before tightly tying a gag around your mouth; with the other man doing the same with Stiles. 

You began to fight back as the men began leading you both to the end of the alley where a van was waiting. “Stop fighting!” He slapped you across your face, leaving you dazed. Stiles shouted through his gag but it was no use. The man slung you over his shoulder and rushed towards the van, throwing you inside causing your body to fall hard. Just as the other man was about to throw Stiles in, a loud growl sounded from down the alley, followed by a harrowing sight of blood red eyes. “Fuck, he’s here.” The man holding Stiles pulled out a gun and held it to his head. “You come any closer McCall and we’ll blow his brains out.” Scott’s eyes turned back to normal and emerged out of the shadows with his hands held in surrender, but with a smirk on his face. Another growl sounded from on top of the van. The man turned with Stiles and was faced with Derek, who leapt at the man, causing him to let go if Stiles. Stiles ran to you inside the van to wordlessly make sure you were ok as Scott began to attack the other man. 

You both sat inside the van listening to the attack going on outside and breathed a sigh of relief when the attack stopped and the men ran away. The two werewolves jumped into the van and untied you both. Stiles gathered you in his arms and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry, baby.” “What the hell happened guys?” You raised your eyebrows at Scott. “I’ll give you one guess.” Scott gave you a knowing look. “Stiles and his big mouth again.” He shook his head and helped you both out of the van with Derek coming out last. 

Stiles held your hand as you both walked back to Derek’s car. “I swear I will never be sarcastic in a situation like that again, especially if you’re with me. I never want to put you in that situation again.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s just get home and forget this ever happened.” He smiled in response as you both gathered in the back of Derek’s car, relieved that the situation was over. 

Teen Wolf Tags: @bxoken-heartss​ @redcoatgirl​

[lesbiansanemi]

I was never the “weird kid in school” growing up, because I was homeschooled. So I was then “the weird kid in the family” because other children I was blood related to were the only people I was allowed to spend time around. And they weren’t “allowed” to be mean to or bully me because obviously I was family and they’d get in trouble. So, I got that brand of bullying that specifically a lot of autistic kids gets where they were subtlety making fun of me and I never realized but I had vague notions something was wrong and they secretly didn’t like me and could never figure it out and when I tried confiding in adults over it I was told I was insane and being over dramatic. You know the drill

Specifically, there were two girl cousins I grew up with that were REALLY really bad about it. They thought I was a weirdo and a freak and annoying and one of them actually frequently made fun of me for being a lesbian before I was really even fully aware of what a lesbian even was (she was the only one of us who wasn’t homeschooled and so overly sheltered)

One of them, after high school when we coincidentally began working the same job when covid first happened, I eventually ended up being chill with. She apologized, and she never had a very easy life either (which I always knew), and we’re fine now. She’s actually one of the very few people on my mom’s side of the family I still talk with, and she doesn’t get along with most of them either. The other one…. We never even saw each other again after high school, and stopped speaking several years before that

Anyways, I was talking with the one I was chill with today, and apparently the other girl is getting married. She asked if I was coming to the wedding and I was like oh yeah no I didn’t even know that was happening and she was like. Oh. She said she sent you an invitation? Which is so funny to me because this girl DEFINITELY does not know where I live, meaning she either sent the invite to my mother’s, or she lied to the other girl and said she invited me and both are really amusing but also I’m like. Why would she even think about inviting me to her wedding we haven’t spoken in like 7-8 years and I know my other cousin didn’t ask if she invited me or not, the other girl had to have brought it up. It’s just odd lol

[theriverdalereviewer]

just remembered how in the sixth grade there was a fucking riot in the cafeteria that ended in the entire grade getting silent lunch for like 3 months

[fingertipsmp3]

My mum’s got this tea set that hasn’t been used in like 80 years or something because it was my dad’s grandma’s and he was convinced it was worth something… listen to me, it’s not, and I’ll tell you why. It’s because that thing is legally mine and nothing good would ever happen to me