#for the next batch it’s gonna be different I’ve decided

[cupiidzbow]

im doing something different for commissions this coming time

[cultofdixon]

It’s the thought that counts

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Baked goods to win the girl’s heart when yours was already his • SFW

Requested: Anon

“Yea think she’s gotten used to this place?” Daryl asks his best friend Carol while they were on the porch, her thinking they were watching everybody but of course he was watching a certain somebody.

“Yeah, I think she’s liking it so far. She is more careful than the others who sort of dived into this place”

“Good…that’s good” He crosses his arms leaning against the post next to the stairs as Carol leaned over the railing noticing his attention never leaving. “She livin’ with yea right?”

“Yeah, Y/N didn’t mind staying in Rick’s the first night or two but once I asked if she’d like to stay with me? She jumped at the opportunity” Carol is close to both Daryl and Y/N. Just one of them is more forward about their feelings.

“…she doesn’t want to be with me in the Grimes residence?” He didn’t even think for long about those words when he asked them. All he knew was the instant realization made him quickly avoid Carol’s smirking. “Fuck off”

“Y’know you’re going to be seeing them a lot right? You’re close friends and she’d rather be around you than anybody else”

“Why yea say that when she’s literally over there talking to this…Aiden fucker”

“Because he’s the head runner for the supply runs. Y/N got asked by Deanna to join said group for her job here”

Daryl scoffs bringing his gaze to the ground. “Bet yea that son of a bitch is flirtin’ with her”

“You care too much and see so little. She’s coming over” Carol whispers the last part causing Daryl to straighten up brushing off dirt or whatever was on his person, nothing. “Hey Y/N”

“Hey! Hey Dar” Y/N smiles at the archer watching him return that smile of his. “I’m glad I saw you were out here”

“Oh yeah?” Carol smiles with intentions that Y/N caught on making her role her eyes as Daryl was left clueless. “Why is that?”

“That Aiden guy?” Y/N gestures with her head. “Makes me really uncomfortable…I’m gonna try and get Deanna to let be on the recruiting team”

“Yea wanna help them bring people in?”

“You’d be good at it.” Carol adds to Daryl’s concern with a bit of a bright side. But Y/N respects the honesty. “But be careful with these people yknow? Aaron is part of the recruiters and they are nice but—“

“I know how to take care of myself…it’s honestly just to have a reason to get outside the walls without needing an escort”

The two look at each other confused as Y/N gestured with her head toward the brothers talking to each other.

“They think I can’t handle myself” She laughs in response to both of them scoffing. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go talk to Deanna and hopefully Maggie can help me convince her…I shouldn’t be out long”

Carol nods smiling, thankful, that she keeps her update and more importantly him. Daryl watches Y/N leave the porch as a thought came to mind.

“Is she going to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I am, to get on people’s good side. Why?”

“I don’t know…if she ain’t then I guess…uh I could…uhhh…”

The woman couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her throat making her friend the archer blush out of embarrassment. She gently grabbed his bicep ushering him inside and deciding to help him.

About an hour or two has passed and Y/N entered the home with a bit of an exhausted look to her complexion. A small smile graces her features as she makes her way into the kitchen finding Carol making another casserole, at least with all the ingredients it looks like she was doing that.

“Another casserole?” Y/N smiles bringing herself to the kitchen island finding all the different items on the counter. “Smells good”

“Oh yeah, another one. The one I’m making is for us though…and a few cookie batches to win some people over”

“Who woulda thought you can make all these things with what this community has found over however long this place has been around…” Her smile falters for a second before she shook off that feeling. “I’m gonna see what they have for anything comfortable. I’ll be back in like. An hour…ish”

“Going to take advantage of the shower and hot water?”

“If I could live in it, I would” Y/N laughs on her way out and the second she left the kitchen, Daryl groans getting up off the floor.

“You didn’t have to do that”

“Didn’t want her to see me” Daryl brought the bowl over with half the cookie dough since a batch was already baking. “Don’t want to spoil shit”

“Well, hate to break it to yea but I don’t think she’s going to want burnt cookies” Carol states indicating they both missed the timer going off as Daryl quickly turns around to pull the batch out.

After Y/N got ready for the evening, thankfully finding leggings and a sweater to wear, she brought herself back to the kitchen finding no Carol but Daryl beating himself up about the batch of cookies in front of him. He was tapping one against the counter telling them both how hard it was.

“Messing with one of Carol’s failed batches?” Her voice startled him out of his thoughts as he sets the cookie he was messing with down trying to think of the words.

“Uh. Yeah” He doesn’t want to say it’s his. “She’s gettin’ another tupperware container from Rick’s”

Y/N took a seat at the island reaching over and taking a cookie as Daryl gives her a concerning look. “What?”

“They’re burnt”

“But not all of it. ‘Sides Id always eat my dad’s burnt cookies whenever he tried to make them.” Y/N broke apart the cookie eating the bits that weren’t burnt too bad. “They are really good, props to the chef”

I’m right here and I should just fucking say I made them Daryl couldn’t help the small twitch in the corner of his lips as he watches her take a few more before taking her leave after telling him she’ll skip out on the casserole.

Before she completely disappeared, Daryl quickly rounded the island as his fast pace made Y/N stop giving him a questioning but curious look.

“I-…Sorry. Forgot what I was gonna say”

“That’s okay. Come find me when you do remember, Dar” Y/N smiles warmly, heading back upstairs with the cookies he made as he watches her go.

Felt like perfect timing for Carol to come back watching Daryl stare upstairs smiling a bit to herself when she noticed his emerge.

“Talk to Y/N?”

“Yeah”

“About…asking her out or?”

“No…” His shoulders slumped slightly as he brought himself to look at his friend. “Anyway. Another batch or should we try and get the dessert?”

“You’re lucky I found a cake tin at Rick’s and I’ll take care of it. Gotta make it perfect” Carol smiles heading toward the kitchen once more. “But you can help, and it’s the thought that counts”

“Always”

Daryl found out through Maggie that Y/N was going to go to the party. Taking the opportunity to scout around the entire community to ease her anxiety and Rick’s. So he was going to wait til she returned to the house to present her with the dessert he (well Carol) made.

Cheesecake. It was HARD. Like real fucking hard. But thank god there’s a vegan option that Carol found in one of the old cookbooks in the house.

“Hey Daryl” Aaron’s voice caught the man off guard as he was following Y/N a moment to make sure she was alright and none of Deanna’s sons were being annoying. “How are yea holding up?”

“Fine. Ain’t going to the party?”

“Eric’s house bound so I was never gonna go but least you thought about it.” Aaron smiles at the archer taking his chance. “Wanna have some dinner? It’s spaghetti”

The archer knew it’d be a while before Y/N made her way back so he took the opportunity and it was a good one. He had a reason for himself to enjoy this place a bit.

Y/N turned away from the window when she heard the knock on her door. Half expecting Carol on the other side but she was happily met with Daryl after he had gotten back from dinner and receiving a bike frame. She was going to ask if he himself went to the party but her eyes were drawn to the cheesecake held in his hands.

“Did you make that?” A bit of a spark in her eyes caught all of Daryl’s attention as he nods fighting back a smile when hers emerged. “Wow…how did…how is it even possible without milk?”

“Cashews apparently…or whatever kind of nut that can be made into milk..” Daryl thought back to the mini argument he and Carol had while making the nut milk about said substitute.

“…Cheesecake is my favorite, I’ve only ever told you that.” She smiles taking the plate when it was handed to her as she couldn’t contain her laughter. “I can’t eat all of this tonight”

The two found themselves back in the kitchen as Daryl let Y/N cut herself a slice about to cut him one when he objected. Given he made it for her.

“We can share then” Y/N smiles wrapping up the main cake and tossing it in the fridge before grabbing two forks for the one slice. “You really didn’t have to make this for me…”

“I wanted to” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as Y/N couldn’t help but match the same blushing expression on herself. “I’ve always wanted to do this…as if like…”

“Asking me out?” Her tone shifted and Daryl first heard it as confusion but then thought it over and remembered hearing the bit of excitement in her voice. “This…is definitely…”

The small pause caught his whole undivided attention as his eyes looked at her waiting for more watching her take a bite of the cake and absolutely enjoying it.

“One of the greatest things to happen to me” Y/N smiles enjoying the cake sliding it over for him to get a taste of his work. Thought the way he took a bite and enjoyed it more than what a typical baker would with their own work. She knew he didn’t make it, she knew the thing he made were the burnt cookies that she did enjoy.

“Uhm. So…Do you—-“

“I’d love to, Dixon” Y/N continues to smile bringing herself around the island and gaining a bit of courage to press a kiss to his cheek. The smallest affection and impact making him lean into it and chase for another that she would happily give. “It took you long enough…and can I just say something?”

“‘Course” Daryl gave her the smallest smile as Y/N pulled herself close bringing her lips to his ear.

“I think I like the cookies you made more” She whispers with a smile, giving him one more kiss on the cheek which permanently left the blush on his cheeks before pulling away and taking the plate.

[andreafmn]

Speak - Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: The long-awaited update is here!!!!!

This chapter is dedicated to @madcatlady for the hilarious ask. It honestly made me laugh 😂😂 I really wanted to make this more of an enemies to lovers (I still can) but soft Paul makes me too happy. Also, the ending for this was gonna be different but I made it into the next chapter If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

(Y/N) had gone to bed with anger flowing through her veins. It made her burn up with rage, slowly bubbling up to the surface.

Bella had always been unconsciously selfish in her sister’s opinion. At least, she hoped it was unconscious. To (Y/N), her sister always found a way to make every situation about herself, and everyone allowed it. Her heartbreak had taken over her father’s life, threatened to take over their mother’s, and was slowly snaking its hands around hers. But Bella would not become the center of her life, she could not.

But the next morning, (Y/N)’s anger had seemingly dissipated. Even if Bella believed the world revolved around her, (Y/N) would not let hers do so. At the end of the day, it was Christmas – a day of happiness and forgiveness. She would enjoy it with or without her sister.

The smell of slightly burnt coffee filled her nostrils before she had opened her eyes and she knew her father was already up. Her excitement for the day was again replenished and she readied herself for a long afternoon. It was her first holiday back in the city of Forks, and the first Christmas she’d have in the town. Nothing would stand in the way of a good day.

“Morning, dad,” (Y/N) smiled at the flustered man. He had taken a sip of the scalding coffee. Not only did he burn his tongue, but he had to taste the awful batch. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, merry Christmas, honey. I really am a menace in the kitchen.”

“Thankfully not on the grill,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you sit while I make a new batch and a light breakfast?”

“I guess I’m still not used to having you girls here,” he sighed. “Normally I’d just go down to the diner and get some food there. And now that Bella’s like… like that, I’ve had to take care of the food again.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So don’t worry about that,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’ll just take it one day at a time and hope for the best. It’s the only thing we can do.” 

“Then we should get ready soon to go over to Billy’s house,” Charlie responded, resigned. “Were you able to at least convince Bella to come?”

“No. She’s as stubborn as ever.” 

“I really hoped she’d want to come. You both always enjoyed Christmas time.” 

(Y/N) shrugged from the stove, the pan she shook scraping slightly the iron grates. She had hoped that, at least for this holiday, Bella would put her family first. Alas, her teenage angst took over and she was once more glued onto the swivel desk chair, overlooking the backyard. All she wanted was for her family to be together during such a special holiday – especially one that promoted togetherness. But all Bella could do or think of was the idiotic boy that had broken her heart.

"Whatever," (Y/N) spoke abruptly. “She’s the one that’s missing out. If she wants to stay at home and wallow in self-pity, so be it. We cannot let her consume every part of our lives.”

“(Y/N), she’s your sister,” Charlie said. “She’s sad and we can’t just leave her behind.”

“It’s not even for a whole day, dad. She’ll survive a couple of hours of staring out of that window,” she whined. “It’s your day off. It’s Christmas. We’re not gonna spend today trapped in the house because Bella has a bad case of the blues.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Dad,” (Y/N) said sternly. “We are gonna go to Uncle Billy’s house. We are going to celebrate Christmas. Then, we will come back home and find Bella in the same spot. But we deserve — you deserve — to put her in the back of our minds for a couple of hours and enjoy ourselves. And that’s an order, sheriff.”

“Alright, you win, (Y/N),” Charlie chuckled slightly. “And thanks again for breakfast. I promise one day I’ll get the hang of it.”

“There won’t be any need whilst I’m here, dad.”

After a small round of chitchat and the background noise of cutlery hitting the ceramic plates, the two of them left for their respective rooms to get ready for the day. Before going back downstairs, (Y/N) popped into Bella’s room where she was not surprised to see her sister sat staring out her window.

Her sister looked pitiful. Chair bound and frail. Heartbreak in the simplest definition. There was not a single trace of the girl she had grown up with. There was a Bella before Edward and the one that was left barely counted as a person.

(Y/N) entered the room, a wrapped present in her hands. She sauntered towed her sister, unsure of what Bella’s reaction — or lack thereof— would be.

“Hey, Bells,” she spoke softly, unsure of where they stood after the conversation they had the night before. “I got you this cause, after all, it is Christmas. I know you don’t want to come with us, but I still wanted to get you something. You can open it, or not. It’s really up to you. But, merry Christmas, sis.”

Silence seemed to be the prevailing answer.

“So, is she finally gonna come?” Charlie asked as (Y/N) exited Bella’s room. “Did she have a change of heart?”

“Nope,” she answered – she wasn’t a miracle worker. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna have a good time. Now, let’s go.”

As they drove down the streets to the reservation, Charlie and (Y/N) sang along badly to Christmas tunes. A white scenery blurred past them as they headed through the snow-covered streets of Forks, putting the older Swan daughter to the back of their mind. The air felt lighter, a weight lifted off their shoulders. They both felt like they could breathe, even if just for a little bit.

The red barn-like house came into view before they had realized that Forks was far behind them. As the truck rolled to a stop, Billy and Jake exited the house to greet their guests. A playful smile played on Jacob’s face when he saw his new girlfriend. A smile that Charlie Swan did not like.

“Now, (Y/N), I know that you two are now sort of together. But I don’t wanna see all that lovey-dovey stuff between you.”

“Dad,” she chuckled.

“No, seriously, (Y/N). I don’t wanna see it.”

“So, it’s okay as long as you don’t see it? Got it.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

“Alright, dad. I’ll keep it low-key for you.”

With another giggle, (Y/N) stepped out of the cruiser, her hands packed with a bag filled with presents and a six-pack of beer. And from the back of the car, Charlie pulled the trays of food they had prepared.

“Here, let me help,” Jake told Charlie, grabbing hold of two of the four trays he was carrying.

Charlie tried his best to hide his feelings of slight anger toward the boy. He’d known him since he was a baby but seeing him get so close to his daughter unnerved him. Still, he answered, “Yeah, thanks, Jake.”

“Hey, Jake,” (Y/N) smiled, kissing Jake’s cheek.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Alright you two, keep it moving,” Charlie grumbled. “And, again, I don’t wanna see any funny stuff between you.”

He walked in front of them, saying hi to Billy as he walked into the house to put the trays down. Everyone could notice the annoyance on his face. As much as he loved Jake, it was one thing for him to be his best friend’s son; it was another for him to date his youngest daughter.

“How’ve you been, Billy?” (Y/N) asked as she made her way into the house and the man rolled inside.

“Very good, (Y/N),” he smiled. “So, Jake and you, when did that happen?”

She chuckled in response. “It started at the bonfire, but it’s been a long time coming. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, between you and me, you’ve always been my favorite of Charlie’s youngest daughters.”

“It’d be weird if I wasn’t.”

“I truly hope this union is of benefit to the both of you,” Billy said, placing a comforting hand on her forearm. “If it is meant to be, I’m sure your father will come around sooner or later.”

“Waiting for sooner rather than later,” she sighed. “It’s kind of hard to see where this is going when dad is breathing down our necks every time we’re in the same room.”

“He means well,” he chuckled. “Charlie’s very new to this whole parenting teenagers thing. It’s hard to see your kids grow up so quickly. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep him by the barbecue as much as I can so you two can have some alone time.”

“Thanks, uncle Billy.” 

In her happiness, (Y/N) missed Billy’s knowing gaze. He knew something neither of them did. Deep down, he knew the pair would not last long – there were other forces in play. But if this is what they wanted, for now, he would never interfere. Young love was hard to come by if that’s what this was.

They entered the kitchen and laughed as they witnessed Jacob’s pleading face. Charlie had not let down his menacing stare as he prepped the meat they would cook. Though his hands worked on the food, his eyes glared at the boy relentlessly.

“Hey, Charlie, got the grill up and running already,” Billy announced. “Why don’t we put this thing to cook already?” 

“But I’m not done yet.” 

“I think you are,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Charlie grumbled as he left through the backdoor with Billy and back into the snow, leaving the two teenagers on their own. With a smile of mischief, Jake and (Y/N) crossed the small kitchen and were finally able to engage in a hello kiss.

“Hey,” she whispered as they parted from each other.

“Hey, back,” Jacob chuckled. “Your dad was close to shooting me there.” 

“Well, you did kiss his youngest daughter in front of him,” (Y/N) teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you’re the first boyfriend I’ve introduced to him. Look how well that turned out for Bella.” 

“But you’re not Bella,” he said. “And I’m not Edward.”

“That is very correct,” she laughed before pecking his lips. “You’re way better.”

“You could say that again,” Jake grinned. “Also, how many boyfriends didn’t make the cut?” 

“Why? Are you jealous, Jake?” 

“Just want to know what I’m up against.” 

“Believe me, none of them match up to you.” 

Suddenly, the sound of a screen door startled them apart. Charlie walked in, the angry scowl still on his face. He muttered under his breath as he opened the drawers in the kitchen, finally finding tongs. And as he left once more, he shot them another glare.

The pair couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as they watched Charlie’s figure disappear through the door. They understood where the father was coming from. Opening himself to having another daughter get her heart broken was too much for a technically “new” father.

But as much as they understood him, it didn’t mean they would try too hard to make him comfortable. They were young, a little reckless, and very excited to be in a relationship – at least (Y/N) was.

As the adults chatted outside, cooking the meat and drinking beers, Jake and (Y/N) gravitated toward the couch, cuddling on the seat. The fireplace was on and the radio was set on a jazz station, playing a song neither of them knew.

“So,” (Y/N) spoke up, looking at Jacob from his chest. “I know we said we wouldn’t do gifts, but I got you something.”

“(Y/N), you promised,” he chuckled. “Although, I will admit I also got you a little something as well. You go first.”

(Y/N) stood up and went to get the wrapped gift she had placed behind the tree. She was excited. It was their first Christmas together ever, and more importantly, their first as a couple. She had dreamed of this moment since they were kids.

Jake followed behind, grabbing the bag he had packed his gift into. He was sure they had both gotten each other small things. They hadn’t been together for that long and there wasn’t anything riding in the presents.

“So, I know you’ve been saying for a while that you needed these for a while, and they were very hard to get.”

Jacob’s eyes were wide in surprise as he unwrapped the box in his hands. (Y/N) had gotten him a pair of Timberland boots with a steel toe. He had dropped one too many tools onto his foot whilst working on cars and he was in desperate need of these shoes.

“Wow, (Y/N)! This must have put a dent in your wallet.”

“It’s worth it,” she smiled into the hug he gave her.

“Well, here’s yours,” he tried to pull a smile, but he knew it wouldn’t even compare. “It’s not as good, but I didn’t have much time.” 

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) responded. She knew whatever he had gotten her would be meaningful and caring, a testament to who he was. And she was very confident in it until she finally saw it. “A… candle.” 

“It’s got a nice smell,” Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “I thought you’d like the smell… I know. It sucks.” 

“No. It’s, um, it’s nice.” (Y/N) was trying to hide her disappointment. She’d seen this type of candle. They sold them at the gas stations in the area as passersby souvenirs. “I’ll put it by my bed and I’ll think about you every time I light it. I love it. Thanks.” 

“And I will basically live in these boots,” he boasted. “I love them.” 

“I’m glad.” 

It was hard for (Y/N) to keep her dismay at bay. She smiled, talked, and laughed through dinner, but it was hard. Jacob could have gotten the candle that morning – zero thought and preparation had gone into the gift. She would have preferred he stuck to nothing. Even that would have been better since he would have kept the promise.

Instead, she was left with a gas station candle that smelled like apples that had been stuffed into a red bag. She was allergic to apples. They made her throat itch and her eyes swell, it had been years since she had even smelled one. Though thankfully, this one was laced with a fake fruit smell, she couldn’t wait to store it in the deepest corners of her closet.

Whilst they were enjoying the pumpkin pie she had made, a knock resounded through the door. The four people in attendance stared at each other.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Charlie asked, wiping off the whipped cream that had accumulated on his mustache. “Though it’d be just us tonight.” 

“We aren’t,” Billy responded. “It’s a bit late for that.” 

“I’ll check who it is,” (Y/N) offered, quickly standing. “It’s probably a tourist that got lost. You guys carry on.” 

As the men went on with their conversation, (Y/N) went to see who was at the door. It was Christmas night, whilst it was snowing. If it was a tourist, they were crazy to be out at that time.

But when she opened the door, she was surprised that not only was it not a tourist, but it was Paul Lahote standing there in shorts and a tank top. His hair was dusted with white snowflake specs, the ones on his skin melting away right after contact.

(Y/N) was quick to close the door behind her. If there was anything she didn’t want it was for Jake and Paul to get into an altercation with her father and Billy around.

“Paul,” she chuckled as she pulled her jacket closer to her body. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I was actually hoping to run into you here,” he responded. “This may sound weird, but I, uh I got you something.” 

He handed her a rectangular box beautifully wrapped in red metallic paper with a white bow for decoration. She could tell he had taken his time to wrap the present – or had asked someone skilled to do it for him. By the cover alone she knew he had put care into the present.

“Can I open it now?”

“Please,” he smiled. “Go ahead.” 

Carefully, she undid the paper, not wanting to even rip it, and she pulled a long box from inside. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside a gorgeously crafted dreamcatcher, with cream feathers and colorful beads rested. Attached to the rim, a wooden wolf totem was attached. It was simple, it was thoughtful, it was beautiful.

“Oh, Paul, it’s stunning,” she said. “But you didn’t have to. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I just saw it at a local shop, and it reminded me of you. The wolf totem, it’s for protection. The wolf is supposed to help you manifestmore protection, better instincts, and stronger relationships in your life.” 

“Seriously, Paul, it’s beautiful.”

 Without knowing it, she was beaming. The surge of happiness that grew inside her was unfathomable, and she found herself wrapping him in a hug. This stranger had gotten her a more thoughtful gift than her boyfriend and friend.

Paul stiffened at first, surprised at the sudden show of affection. But instantly melted into her embrace, wrapping his own arms around her.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he smiled to himself. But the moment was cut short. From far inside the woods, a wolf called out to his pack, saying it was time to change shifts. “Uh, that was all. I just wanted to give you this. I should be heading back home now.”

“Oh.” Was she disappointed? “Then, I promise one day I’ll repay the favor.” 

“There’s really no need.” 

“I insist,” she said with a bright smile. “Seriously, Paul. This actually means a lot. Thank you.” 

“Sure thing,” Paul smiled, running his hand through the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around. And, Merry Christmas, (Y/N).” 

Before she could answer him, Paul seemed to vanish. (Y/N) couldn’t see his body anywhere close. So, she spoke to the air, “Merry Christmas, Paul.” 

(Y/N) was quick to hide the gift in the car, under her seat. If she went back into the house with it, she was sure it would only cause discord with Jacob and her father. It was better if neither of them knew about one of the best gifts anyone had ever gotten her.

“Who was it?” Charlie called out when he saw his daughter walking back into the house. “You were out there for some time.” 

“Oh, just a couple of tourists that got lost leaving the rez.” 

“Tourists?” Jacob questioned. “Today of all days?”

“It was a newlywed couple, on a honeymoon road trip.” 

“Mmm, young love,” Billy smiled toward (Y/N). It made her question if he had seen who she was actually speaking to. “What a great gift it is.” 

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[detective-giggles]

Questionable Taste

So close! And, as my lovely beta pointed out, cooking and baking are technically different but this is the third time I’ve started the fic and I’m gonna roll with it. (Believe it or not, the first version had TK making Beef Wellington 🫠🫠. Of all the things for me to manifest this season, it was the beef welly!) but, I will allow the lovely Maker Of The Card decide if they want to accept it or call foul.

🍪🍪🍪🍪

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously, what? You’re giving me that look.”

“You’re kinda hot in that apron,” TK admits, taking a step closer. “In fact, if we were at home, I’d-”

Carlos chuckles and takes a step back. “But we’re not at home; we’re in public, and I don’t want to go home with a felony.”

“Spoilsport,” TK mutters. He slips his own apron over his head and looks over the copy of the recipe they’d be preparing today. Carlos had found them a beginning baking class, so nothing too difficult, just a couple of different kinds of cookies.

He was surprised to see two sets of ingredients on their counter; he figured they’d be working together on their desserts. TK throws his ingredients in a bowl and mixes. He’s disappointed; he had really planned on watching Carlos do most of the work tonight. There was just something sexy about the confidence and grace with which Carlos moved around the kitchen.

Not that TK can’t bake or cook, of course. He can follow a recipe and even occasionally improvise with ingredients. He just doesn’t enjoy either the way Carlos does, especially with cooking. Chopping and dicing were just so boring. TK’s pretty sure Carlos enjoys the preparations of cooking more than actually eating the meal he prepared.

They measure out the dough onto baking sheets and pop them into the oven. TK sticks his finger into the bowl and scoops out a little cookie dough and pops it into his mouth.

Carlos doesn’t say anything, but TK knows what he’s thinking so he doesn’t do it again. Instead, he helps Carlos clean up their station and they make small talk with the rest of the class - two more things he was loath to do on a date night - as they wait for their first batches to be done.

Carlos grabs the oven mitt first and pulls both batches of cookies out, setting them on the workstation.

“I still think you’re hot in that apron,” TK murmurs as they move the cookies from the tray to the cooling racks. He reaches for one immediately and then tosses it from hand to hand as he tries to cool it faster. He takes two bites and then passes it to Carlos before reaching for one off of the other cooling rack.

“I’m just seeing which ones are better,” he says when Carlos gives him a pointed look.

“They’re going to taste the same,” Carlos insists, biting into the cookie in his hand.

“I’m sure one has to taste better. I put extra chocolate in mine,” TK points out.

“Oh yeah, that’s going to make a huge difference.” Carlos teases as he watches as TK bites into one of his cookies, makes a face, and then sets the cookie on the counter, shrugging.

“Really?” Carlos eats the rest of the cookie. “Uh, huh. Yours is better. Hands down.”

“You’re just saying that,” TK whines.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“I know how we can settle this,” TK says.

***

“This is so stupid,” Carlos mutters. He stands next to TK and crosses his arms; the two plates of cookies are on the kitchen island between them and the rest of the 126.

“They look delicious,” Marjan says, reaching for one.

“Wait. Everyone has to try a cookie from each plate and tell us which you like better,” TK instructs. “Which will be mine,” he teases.

Carlos rolls his eyes fondly, and together he and TK watch as the rest of the crew try their cookies.

“They’re both good,” Paul says, shrugging. “I don’t know if I have a favorite.”

“Mateo?” TK asks.

The firefighter shrugs. “I mean, anything with chocolate is good with me!”

“They taste the same, dude,” Nancy finally points out. “I mean, they’re both really good. They just taste the same.”

“But one has to be better?”

“TK, baby, we literally used the same recipe,” Carlos says. “Can we stop this nonsense and get on with our night?”

TK’s face falls as everyone grabs another cookie and heads out to the living room to get the game set up. There’s one cookie left - one from Carlos’ plate. Carlos grabs the cookie and breaks it in two, handing half to TK. TK pouts but bites into his cookie. “This is really good,” he admits. “Why did we let them eat them all?”

Carlos laughs. “It’s okay.” He pulls TK in close and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Since yours were so good, I’ll let you make us another batch tomorrow.”

Taglist: @chaotictarlos @noxsoulmate @plaidbooks @tailoredshirt @meditating-honey-badger

Thank you to T for the prompt, noxy for the beta, and @creativepromptsforwriting for the title. I wanted to name it something that started with a Q as a favor to my beta for putting up with me (and my extra commas!)

[dumfanting]

Uncrossed Paths

(Same Heart alternate ending #2)

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit, adults only

Warnings: smut with feelings, breakups (is it really a breakup if they were never together in the first place?) oral (f/m receiving), edging, dom/sub dynamic, Cross gets slapped again

Notes: f reader, second person pov, present tense

3677 words

I promise this wasn’t supposed to hurt like that! I got emotional while writing.

F! Reader/ Crosshair (and Echo)

In this alternate ending, you decide to leave the Batch and stay with Echo, but not before saying goodbye.

Back on Anaxes, outside of the Marauder in the hangar, Generals Windu, Kenobi, and Skywalker are addressing you all while Rex and Cody look on. General Windu says you all have medals coming your way, then the group turns to leave. Echo automatically follows Rex, then looks back at you and the Batch. “You’re not coming?” he asks.

“Accolades,” Crosshair says, rolling his eyes.

“Not really our thing,” Tech adds, and Wrecker tells him that they’re just in it for the thrill.

“You sure it’s your thing?” Hunter asks.

“What do you mean?” he says, confusion deepening.

“Your path is different, like ours,” Hunter says, jerking his head back at everyone beside him. “If you ever feel like you don’t fit in with them, well, find us,” he says.

Echo catches your eye again, and you take a deep breath before walking over to him. “Are you coming with me?” he asks, sounding unsure of himself.

You glance back at your squad. Hunter subtly nods at you, Tech half shrugs and says that it would make the most sense, Wrecker is anxiously watching you, and Crosshair isn’t looking at you at all. You look back at Echo, and despite everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, you decide that you’re going to take this second chance you’ve been dreaming of.

“I will,” you say softly, taking his remaining hand and squeezing it.

Echo glances between you and the others. “I’ll give you all some time,” he says. You watch as he meets eyes with Crosshair, and after looking between you two for a second, Echo squeezes your hand before releasing it. “It’s okay,” he says, voice low so only you could hear him.

You whisper a thank you, then tell him you’ll catch up in a little while. He nods at you and walks off in the same direction Rex had gone.

You turn back towards your now former squad, and find that Wrecker seems like he’s barely holding himself together. You walk over to him and without warning, he sweeps you off of your feet, pulling you into another bone-crushing hug, but still being careful to avoid your injured side. You cling to him, gently running a hand across his upper back.

“Gonna miss ya y’know,” he says with a hiccup.

“I’ll miss you too big guy,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“You better not have any nightmares now,” he says.

“I’ll do my best,” you say as he sets you back on your feet. Wrecker looks at you one last time before abruptly walking away, mumbling about something in his eye.

“I’ll go after him,” Hunter says with a tired sigh, then walks over to you. “What I told Echo, you know that applies to you too. Wherever you end up, if you need us, we’ll find you,” he says, clapping a hand to your shoulder. He stumbles when you abruptly throw your arms around his neck and also hug him tightly to yourself.

“Thank you, Hunter, for everything,” you say. He kind of awkwardly pats your back, then you let him go. “Heh,” you continue. “You think the next medic will last longer than me?”

“That is highly unlikely,” Tech says, walking over and getting your attention while Hunter slips away after Wrecker.

“Yeah, nobody else will be able to put up with you all that long,” you say with a wry smile. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that got a chuckle out of him.

“It’ll be an… adjustment,” he says, having trouble keeping eye contact with you. “I’ve gotten used to having you around. You’re a valuable teammate,” he continues.

“That means a lot, coming from you,” you say. Even after all this time, you still don’t fully know what Tech’s boundaries are, so you test the waters by simply gripping his shoulder. To your surprise, he reciprocates, and manages to meet your eyes while he’s at it. You both pull your hands back, and he nods at you before also walking off after Hunter and Wrecker. That just leaves…

“Crosshair?” you say, softly, as you approach him. You take his hand and your mind buzzes again, a feeling of loss very nearly overwhelming you. When he doesn’t speak, and still doesn’t look at you, you gently cup his cheek and turn him to face you. “It’s too bad,” you say. “We were just starting to get along.” That gets a smirk out of him, at least.

“Yeah,” he says, “you turned out to be worth something after all.”

You feign deep offense, then you both chuckle. “You know,” you say, lowering your voice. You step closer and the hand that you had on his check moves to the back of his neck. “It would be a shame if we never picked up where we left off earlier,” you say, leaning close enough that your faces are only inches apart. He finally meets your eyes, and when he does, you jerk your head toward the ship. Understanding crosses his face. He grabs you by the shoulders and kisses you deeply, leaving you breathless, then practically drags you inside behind him.

As soon as the ship's hatch is closed, you’re on each other. You both strip him of his armor, the plastoid clattering at your feet and leaving a trail toward the bunks. Soon, his under armor and your clothes also hit the floor, quickly followed by your binder and underwear.

Minding your hurt side, Crosshair grips you by the hips and pushes you backwards. As you fall onto his bunk, you grab his hands and pull him down with you, your mouths clashing together at the same time. Your tongues meet and you’re once again flooded with the smoky taste of him. You know you’ll never get enough.

He seems to know it too, and it's so long until you two break apart for air that once you do, you’re both panting and gasping. His mouth doesn’t leave your body for very long though, and he growls as he dips his head back down to the junction where your shoulder meets your neck, sucking at the mark he had already left there and making it darker. The ache sends a rocket of heat into your cunt and you moan out his name, tangling your fingers into his coarse silver hair as you do.

“Fuck,” he says. “I love the way my name sounds on your lips.”

You can feel his hot breath against your pulse and you whimper, clenching your thighs together in an attempt at some form of friction. Crosshair notices, and his strong hands are suddenly holding your knees apart, your dripping sex on full display for him. He groans at the sight, then, with little hesitation, dives headfirst into you.

The sudden feeling of his tongue plunging into you, coupled with the way his nose is bumping against your clit, sends a shiver down your spine, and you whimper loudly, unconsciously pulling his head closer to you. He curses under his breath, then replaces his tongue with two of his long fingers. He scissors them in and out of you, almost exactly like you had fantasized about in the shower a handful of hours ago, and you gasp at the feeling.

Seeming to read your mind, he continues to finger you but moves back up along your body, nipping at your soft skin as he goes. “I could hear you in the shower. You have no idea how hard it was to not burst in and take you then and there,” he says, and your face flushes hot with arousal and embarrassment. You attempt to hide behind your hands, but Crosshair slips his fingers out of you and grips your wrists, holding them firmly above your head as he tuts at you. “Don’t try to hide, kitten. I want to memorize every single sound you can make for me,” he says.

He kisses you deeply, and your own sweet taste mixed with his is intoxicating. With a burst of energy neither of you expected, you wrench your hands free from his grasp, push him backwards as you sit up, and straddle his thighs. He goes to grab at your hips, but you stop him, taking your turn to pin his hands over his head, only you manage to do it one-handed. Your empty hands drags down his torso, coming to rest at the base of his throbbing cock. You teasingly trace your index finger upwards along his shaft, then gather a few beads of precum onto your fingertip and slowly rub it into his cock head in tight, circular motions.

His hips jerk upwards and he groans. Grinning, you repeat the motion, your touches feather-light and teasing. You firmly grip his cock with your entire hand, and he bucks up into it, still groaning. You smirk, and begin stroking him, agonizingly slowly. He hisses through his teeth. Without losing rhythm, you lean forwards until your face is hovering above his.

You kiss him deeply and he moans into your mouth. You pull away, and don’t miss the way his lips try to follow you. You look down at him with a smirk. “Such self-control. Let’s see you do it again. Keep your hands to yourself,” you say before releasing his wrists. You notice the effort it’s taking him to not grab at you, and you quicken your strokes along his cock. “Good boy,” you murmur into his ear, and he whimpers, the needy sound making your heart race and your clit throb. “Oh, you like that?” you coo at him, increasing speed and pressure with your busy hand again. Crosshair whines and nods, but he doesn’t speak.

You abruptly pull your hands away from him, leaving his cock twitching against your belly. “Ah-ah,” you say, enjoying this far too much. “Use your words.”

Crosshair huffs, still not talking, his hands clenching around nothing. You sigh, disappointed, and sit back. “Nothing to say for a change, huh?” you say. “Have it your way then,” you continue, shaking your head, and moving as if to get away from him.

“Fuck, yes,” he shouts, and you freeze, smirking at him. You settle back into place, straddling his legs and grinning.

“There now, was that so hard?” you say, taking hold of his cock again and resuming your long, slow strokes. You look back up at him, and see his hands gripping the sheets at his sides, so tightly you're surprised they haven’t torn. In one fluid motion, you shift backwards and take him into your throat. He curses, loudly, and you see his hands jerk upwards toward your head. The second that he’s close enough to touch you, you sit back up, leaving a thin trail of saliva from his cock head to your bottom lip.

“What did I say?” you ask.

“Meds, please,” he whines.

You lean further back and raise an eyebrow at him. “As much as I love hearing you beg,” you say with a smirk, “That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

Crosshair curses under his breath again. “H-hands to myself,” he says, sounding defeated.

You smile at him, lean forward again, and once you’re even with his ear, whisper “There’s a good boy,” before kissing his cheek and quickly shifting back, taking him a little deeper into your throat this time. He whines again and you hum, pleased, around him, making him unconsciously buck his hips upward, forcing himself further down your throat.

You fight against your gag reflex and bob your head faster, watching his face the entire time. You can tell that he’s close, and that his resolve is about to break. You take a deep breath, then swallow around him, your nose reaching his pelvis as you do. You make eye contact again, and that does it. Self-restraint lost, Crosshair's hands fly up and tangle into your hair, attempting to hold you in place.

You sit up before he can get a good hold on you, freeing him from your mouth. On a mad impulse, you lean forward, grab his shoulder and yank him into a sitting position, then slap him, hard. The moment your palm strikes his cheek, he shocks you by grunting a long string of curses, his cock twitching as he shoots his release across your chest.

Before you can react to any of this, he’s got you pinned on your back again, firmly holding your wrists even with your hips as he dives back into your dripping cunt. The moment his lips wrap around your clit, you curse too, shouting his name and not giving a damn about your volume. He hums into you in response, the vibration pushing you over the edge.

You cum with a holler, fighting Crosshairs grip as you spasm and soak his face. He laps up as much as he possibly can, then releases your wrists. You shift yourself forward, grabbing him by the shoulders again and pulling his face into yours. Your lips crash together once more, and you both groan into each other.

You break apart, gasping for breath and staring at one another. His hands on your hips, you meet his eyes, nodding at him. He lunges forward and kisses you again, and once he pulls back, he flips you onto your front and sheathes himself fully inside you in the span of one breath.

You both moan unrestrained, and after giving you a moment to adjust to him, he pulls his hips back and snaps the back into you, making you curse. This keeps up for about a minute, the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, Crosshair leans forward, wraps his arms around your chest, and shifts backward, pulling you up with your back straight, mercilessly fucking up into you the entire time. The change in angle makes him hit you deeper than ever, and you clench around him as the coil in your gut finally snaps.

“F-fuck, yes, don’t stop Cross,” you pant out, your words melting into a long groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. You feel his cock twitching deep inside of you, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you whine his name over and over.

Eventually his movements stop and he releases your shoulder from his jaws as he pulls out of you with a grunt. You both slump backwards, completely spent and gasping for breath.

After a minute or so, you sit back up, and the skin of your back, sticky with sweat, peels away from his chest. You turn yourself over and lie on your side, facing Crosshair, who also turns over to face you. You both close your eyes and press your foreheads together. Your breath steadily evens out, and the two of you hold each other so tightly, not even the Maker could get between you.

You shift backwards enough to better see his face, cup his cheek, and softly kiss him. He holds his hand over yours and chuckles. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he says “fuck, I wish you’d smacked me sooner.”

You can’t help but laugh as you shake your head at him. You press your foreheads together again and say “yeah, me too,” in a whisper.

There’s a subtle shift in atmosphere, and when Crosshair next speaks, you can barely hear him.

“Are you sure you won’t stay?” he says.

“You could come with me?” you say, just as quietly.

“As much as I want to, you know I can’t leave them,” he says.

“Well,” you say with a sad sigh, “there’s your answer.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and instead shifts himself so that he’s laying on top of you, caging you beneath his body. You reach a hand up and lightly trace a finger along his tattoo and around his eye. He takes your hand and kisses your palm. You slip your hand out of his and hold the back of his head, gently pulling his face down to yours.

Your lips meet, and you both hold each other tightly again. You sigh into him, snaking your arms underneath his and holding onto his shoulders from behind, pulling him even closer to you. You shift, opening your legs, and you can feel his cock poking into your thigh.

“Meds,” he says, calling you by the name he gave you.

“Crosshair,” you respond, kissing him deeply again. When you pull away, “please” escapes your lips. He meets your eyes again, and you nod at him.

He kisses you as he automatically lines himself up with you, breaching into you slowly, making you both gasp quietly. Your foreheads touch, and he pistons himself in and out of you, each stroke of his hips deep and measured.

The desperate frenzy that had gripped the two of you before gives way to soft, passionate kisses, gentle touches, and whispered words.

Neither of you care about reaching another orgasm, instead focusing intensely on each other and being as close as physically possible. Crosshair’s hands never leave your body, and you know he’s committing your every curve to memory, because you're doing the same with his.

He whispers your name, your actual name, and your heart aches at the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says, stopping his movements but still inside you.

“For what?” you ask, confused.

“Being such an asshole before,” he explains. “I-,”

“Don’t. I forgave you a while ago,” you say, brushing a stray tear off of his cheek with your thumb.

“I think Wrecker was right after all,” Crosshair says, shaking his head. “I love you,” he whispers.

You kiss him, and when you pull away you say “Then show me,” also whispering and ignoring the deepening ache in your chest.

Your lips meet, and he moves again, the steady strokes of his hips growing harder, deeper, desperate once more. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to you than before. But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

You feel a familiar tension in your gut again far too soon, and just as the pressure gets to be too much, Crosshairs hips stutter. You can’t help but dig your nails into his back, and his hold on your own hips is tight enough to bruise, but neither of you care. You crash your lips together one last time as your simultaneous orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and you both cry out at the same time.

And the next thing you know, it’s over. He’s reluctantly slipping out of you, unable to look you in the eye, then pulling you back into a sitting position. As you get to your feet and redress yourself, you can’t look at him either. When you start to take everything out of the compartments around your bunk and stuff it into a large canvas bag, you hear Crosshair also stand, and walk into the refresher.

He turns the shower on, and you take a minute to do a final sweep of the ship, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything. You haven’t, and now that you’re out of excuses to stick around, you return to the bunks. You think for a moment, then retrieve something from your bag. You hold the object in your hand, then sigh and gently set it at the head of Crosshairs bunk.

You make your way out of the ship, but he still hasn’t left the refresher. You pause at the door, then knock twice on the wall, knowing where he is on the other side. After a second, you hear a single knock in response. Holding back tears, you open the hatch of the ship and step outside, closing it behind you.

You glance in the direction Echo was moving a short hour ago, take a shuddering breath, and walk away from the Marauder without looking back.

You approach the door out of the hangar and find him waiting for you. Neither of you speak, but you don’t need to. The way you desperately cling to him, crying silently, and the way he holds you close says more than enough.

Back inside the ship, Crosshair hears the hatch shut behind you and barely fights off the urge to go running after you. Instead, he shuts the shower off, dries himself, and pulls on a clean set of under armor he’d brought with him. He hesitates before opening the refresher door, then shakes himself and steps into the main area of the ship. He grits his teeth and gathers up the scattered pieces of his armor that the two of you had left strewn about on the way to the bunks.

With everything collected, he dumps it all onto his bunk with a heavy sigh. He’d deal with it all properly later on. He’s about to leave the area, but something blue-purple glints in the dim light, catching his eye. He picks it up, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the glowing stone. You thought you had lost it, not that long ago, but he kept it for you. He remembers the look on your face when he handed it to you, and has to take a second to breathe. The stone is still warm.

Holding it tightly in his hand, he quickly makes his way out of the ship and into the hangar, glancing around, but you’re nowhere to be seen. He hears the distinct footsteps of his brothers approaching, and, not wanting to deal with anyone else yet, dashes back inside before they can spot him.

Moving automatically, he sits heavily onto your bunk, turning the stone over in his hand. He hears the ship's hatch hiss open, and quickly curls up into himself, yanking the privacy curtain closed.

Almost immediately, Crosshair can tell that Hunter has come into the room, but neither of them speak. After a few seconds, Hunter leaves, closing the door behind him. Crosshair slumps onto his side and holds your pillow tightly to his chest. The karking thing still smells like you.

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @grievouus @jennamelinda12 @zoeykallus @wolveria @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @whore4rex @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @thelux1007

[always-aqua]

Just a vent… feel free to move along.

I’ve been in the fandom for nearly 8 years. I have followed the “big” accounts, the update accounts, the smaller accts. I have tried time and again to connect with others. I have written fic, I helped organize a meet up before one of H’s shows. I have sponsored singles, albums, and veeps tickets. I reblog fan work, fics, play the writing and general meme games even when no one tags me. I have tried to be present in this fandom. For eight years. Sure. I’m not an OG. I have a career that ebbs and flows my time so I am not 100% available or online 24/7. But I am here. A lot. I try and watch livestreams for all shows I am able and be active online reblogging and posting in reaction to the shows.

My point is…I’m here. I’ve tried. I’m trying.

And yet…it feels like this is not a space that cares. I’ve felt this pretty much my entire time in this fandom. I am not trying to be negative about everything because I firmly believe you cultivate your own experience. At the same time, I can post something one minute and never receive a note and see the same thing almost verbatim posted by someone else a few minutes later and jump immediately to 20+ notes. Cultivating my experience only goes so far when no one else wants to buy into it. So what then?

I’m not saying I’m a great writer by any means. I am lucky to have had one fic actually “take off” but the rest? Hardly anything. My posts rarely get notes. (shout out to the the three people that actually interact with me!! It means the world to me!) and last night I went to L’s show. I have posted pics and vids and my thoughts. Extremely limited interaction.

I don’t live my fandom experience for other people, but think of it this way. I spend all day baking cookies to bring to a party. Actually, many days. Deciding which recipe I want to use. Then I go to the shops for ingredients. I decide to splurge on the expensive salted cashews, the extra right chocolate and cage free eggs. I even decide to bake two batches to be cognizant of potential nut allergies. So I double my ingredients and time. Now, it’s the night of the party, my two batches came out perfect (the second time around because the butter was too soft the first batch and the cookies spread more than what I wanted.) I put the cookies in two different serving baskets and hand-write little signs for each kind to explain nuts/no nuts. Then at the end of the night, I go to collect my containers and realize that only like 3 cookies are gone and I find half of one in a garbage. A few thoughts go through my head: well that sucks people didn’t like my cookies. They didn’t even try them to know if they might have liked them or not. / nice! I still like cookies now get to have more for myself. The next party rolls around and I try again thinking maybe it was just the people at the first party were not in a cookie mood. And the same thing happens at the end of party number two. A third party rolls around and begrudgingly I go through the whole process with very little hope anyone is gonna eat the damn cookies. They don’t. So you know what? I’m not making cookies anymore since it doesn’t feel worth it. Doesn’t mean I don’t like baking.

I love it here. I love supporting L&H. For eight years, this has been my oasis from real life when I’ve needed it, and I have made one or two genuine connections. I love when something dumb happens and memes fly out of people faster than I can blink. I love show days where the excitement is palpable. I love seeing people organize fan projects and the audience following along. It truly is a happy place.

But goodness can it feel lonely when no one else cares about your excitement.

[themanofax]

What Makes Someone a Joestar?

So I’ve been diving headfirst into Stone Ocean recently; I finished the second batch a while ago, and just finished re-reading the manga.  I’m feeling Very Normal about the whole thing, and so I wanted to take some time to write about what I think is the most heartbreakingly beautiful part of the story, as well as how it embodies what makes JoJo different from so many other series out there.

It should go without saying that Stone Ocean is meant to be a culmination of all the previous parts.  The “main story” of JoJo can be traced from Part 1 through Part 3, before concluding with Part 6.  Strictly speaking, the main universe is “about” the Joestars and their conflicts with the Brandos; Parts 2, 4 and 5, while amazing, are more meant to flesh out the universe and characters in preparation for the conclusion of this overarching storyline.  (I should mention that Part 4 is by far my favorite and this isn’t meant to be criticizing these parts, lol)

So, obviously, with Part 6 being the last Part in the main universe, Araki had a tall task ahead of him.  How would he decide to end this story - this war that started 131 years ago, when an unfortunate carriage driver careened off a cliff and set Fate into motion?  Who would be the one to deal the final blow, to be the instrument of justice that set right all the wrongs that DIO had wrought?

Most mangaka would’ve said “the main character”.  Others, slightly less conventional ones, would’ve said “all the characters together - or maybe, Jotaro, since he was the one who killed DIO in Part 3.  Or maybe, Pucci wins, and the storyline ends with tragedy.”

All valid answers.  But Araki chose differently.

Araki decided that the hero of Part 6 would be a scared little boy.  A boy who was emboldened by the main character’s sacrifice.  A boy who became so much braver, so much cleverer, so much more determined than he ever could’ve dreamed he could be.  

Emporio Alniño is the last character anyone could’ve expected to be the sole survivor of Part 6.  I can only imagine how confused, scared and hopeless weekly readers must’ve felt - “Jolyne and Jotaro are dead!  Emporio is the only one left?  And now we need to wait a week for next chapter?  How are we gonna get out of this?”

But Emporio rose to the occasion.  Screaming, crying as he watched his friend, the older sister he never had, torn apart by an unstoppable god, he found the courage to win.  And, in one of the saddest, most heartrending moments in JoJo, the Part ends as he watches look-alikes of his friends meeting for the first time, knowing that they don’t recognize him and that he is the only being in the entire universe that knows this pain.  A truly amazing ending, which ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT DESERVE THE BAD REPUTATION IT HAS IN THE FANDOM-

Anyway.  What does this have to do with the title of the post?  

Well.  It all ties back to that insanely daring, one-of-a-kind decision that Araki made.  

What does that decision say about JoJo as a whole?  (Or at least, about the main universe.)  It’s a decision that centers around the climax of six parts, of 16 real-world years of storytelling - surely it has some bearing on what the story up to this point has meant.

Well, let’s look at Jolyne.  The protagonist of Part 6, the daughter of invincible shonen badass Jotaro Kujo.  Throughout the part, she displays the ferocity, tenacity, and cleverness that we’ve come to expect from the Joestar bloodline; skinning guards alive to escape their grasps, lighting herself on fire to best one of the sons of DIO, printing out an image in binary to overcome a Stand that messes with one’s memory.  All incredibly impressive... but those traits are not what end up saving the day.

Instead, the trait that Jolyne possesses - that all the Joestars possess - that ends up saving the entire universe... is kindness.  

Jolyne’s selfless, senseless kindness - which inspired her to risk her life to save a little boy she had just met, to defend him as they escaped from prison and fought to revive her father, that inspired her to stand up to a time-bending demon just to buy a few seconds for him to escape.  It is that kindness that allows Emporio to live, that drives him to avenge the main cast and free humanity from an eternity of sleeping slave-dom.  

And that, right there, is what I think makes JoJo so different from so many other shonen.  In any other shonen, Jolyne would’ve overcome Pucci by being the strongest, or the fastest, or the smartest.  And to be sure, those qualities are great!  Every Joestar has those qualities to some degree, and they certainly couldn’t have overcome the obstacles they do in their Parts without them.  But when the cards are down and it’s the main JoJo vs the main villain, what ends up saving the day every time?  

The allies that the JoJos have made.  The no-lifes, the thugs, the villains and nobodies, that the JoJos, through their impossible kindness, were able to redeem.  

And that’s what I think makes a Joestar.  Their ability to bring out the best in others.  Okuyasu was just a street punk mindlessly following his brother’s orders; but when faced with Josuke’s mercy and casual compassion, he was able to become one of Morioh’s staunchest defenders.  Bucciarati was a mafioso who had completely given up hope of bringing about change, who wasn’t above torturing and psychologically manipulating a teenage boy who he didn’t even know for sure was a murderer.  But when faced with Giorno’s golden dream, he woke up from his fate as a sleeping slave, and was able to bring about a better tomorrow for all of Italy.

I could go on.  But hopefully you get the point by now - and maybe you can apply this to your own favorite characters in the series.  In the main universe, the Joestar legacy is one of compassion.  Being the strongest or the smartest means nothing if you don’t have allies on your side; and JoJo as a whole goes to great, pain-staking lengths to show that we, as a species, excel when we are together.  That it is the human connection between us that allows us to overcome gods of time, or immortal vampires, or any other manner of boogeymen and monsters that constantly threaten our future.  And I just think... that’s so refreshing.  

So many shonen make a big deal of their MCs being “special”.  Because they were born with a special power, or because they can beat up the opponent enough that it brings about change.  And, to be clear, the “power of friendship” is a shonen trope for a reason; JoJo isn’t the first series to have this kind of message in a long shot.  But I just... feel like JoJo does it so well.  It never feels cheap, or contrived; and I think that’s because, rather than just being used as a plot device to allow our heroes to beat villains that they logically shouldn’t be able to, JoJo threads that message into its very core.  Not a single moment goes by without the series reminding you of this fundamental truth; and as I described above, it all culminates in the ultimate act of kindness resulting in the ultimate victory.

JoJo is a weird series.  It’s about overly masculine men making strange, sexual poses at each other.  It’s about ghosts punching each other until they explode.  It’s dumb, it’s cheesy, and sometimes it straight up doesn’t make sense.

But at the end of the day, it is a story that posits that humanity can overcome the impossible.  And the vehicle through which they deliver that message - the JoJos, a name synonymous with shonen manga, with badassery and masculinity - are special... because they help others be who they were meant to be.

I think there’s something unspeakably beautiful about that.

[honeesucker]

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Kōtarō x F!omega reader

Genre: A/B/O AU 🐾 | Smut, 18+ // minors DNI!

WC: 3,057

My whole body was shivering despite it being a sweltering sunny day, my mind was hazy and clouded with the need to submit to an Alpha. 

To be overtaken, pounded into until I was a dumb mess of omega mush and knotted until I was fat with pups.

Fucking hormones and omega instincts.

Fucking expired heat suppressants.

Stupid fucking idiot me for not noticing until it was too late.

My rational mind fought off the swarm of nuisance thoughts as I hurried my way back to my apartment carefully avoiding anyone’s gaze, suffocating my scent glands in a thick hooded sweater and scarf I had kept at the bakery for the unexpected colder days. It didn’t do much to ward off the curious glances and sniffs from the passing Alphas and others on the street, but luckily none acted on instincts, I didn’t stick around long enough to trigger anything in them.

My thighs were sticking together uncomfortably beneath my summer dress as the slick pooled in my panties and ran down the sides. The friction against my sensitive core only added to the ache, and I had to fight every ounce of instinct in me to hold back the whimpers, to not just fall on the ground and present myself to the next suitable Alpha that crossed my path.

I just needed to get home unscathed and get on my pharmacy app to order a fresh batch of suppressants, wait out a week for them to take full affect and I’ll be good to return to my normal, uncomplicated life.

I had been lucky in avoiding anymore people. No one was waking along the final stretch that led to my apartment building; a high-rise nestled just outside of the main district of downtown but still fairly luxurious for an apartment building. After a rough time in my earlier years out on my own, I decided once my bakery was successful enough I would splurge and put myself in a comfortable apartment with extra building security for my own peace of mind. I made my way to the door where the Beta doorman was waiting with it open for me, smiling until he caught the edge of my currently overwhelming scent.

“Quick, quick in miss Y-N,” Ferris ushered me through the door and shut it behind us. Walking me to the empty elevator and pushed my floor, nearly the top, at 27 of 35. “You shouldn’t be out wandering around in such a state, it isn’t safe for you!” The older man patted my hands in his with a worried expression. I just smiled and nodded along to his worrying over me.

“I know Mr. Ferris,” I sighed, “there was an unfortunate mishap with my medication so I’m gonna be staying cooped up for a bit.” He just nodded and ushered me along, and I gave a small wave and smile as the doors closed and he gave me one final wave off. I sighed, releasing the death grip I had on the jacket around me, still covering my scent glands as best as I could, but not with so much force around my throat. I’m surprised I didn’t pass out from self-asphyxiation on the way home.

After a few minutes in the elevator my floor was finally reached with a gentle ding! and I was hurrying out into the hall to make sure I was alone. With no one around I felt safe enough to walk briskly to my apartment without any further paranoia. I was reaching my door, just about to press in my key code and slink into a week of needy depression when I heard the door slighty adjacent to mine across the hall open behind me. 

My whole body froze like a bunny caught in a wolf’s gaze.

Fuck.

“Hey hey hey, my sweet little Y/N!” A bright, jovial baritone rang out behind me, and soon I felt the looming presence of the man I feared most coming into contact with at this very moment right at my back. The immense heat radiating off of him in waves with his sweet, clean scent with mint, along with a headier male musk underneath. “You’re home early! Sorry to be a pest but did you bring any pastries home with you? I have such an awful craving right now and-” my kind, handsome neighbor regarded me silently, and what I didn’t see were his sweet golden eyes darkening to a dangerous lustful shade as he leant forward and took a gentle sniff in. A ragged breath leaving his chest as he inched forward just enough for me to feel his clothing ghosting against my back. “Y/N? Are you okay? You smell.... you s-smell so good. Different,” he slurred behind me, leaning down to rub his cheek against the top of my head and nose my hair as he took in deeper breaths. I was completely frozen, in fear or need... I couldn’t decide.

Maybe both.

When my neighbor let out a deep, rumbling groan from inside his chest I leant more towards need in my current aching state as I instinctively pressed my body back against his. “Y-Y/N you shouldn’t be out right n-now in your state s’not safe y’know...” his voice trailed off, a pained mixture of a whimper and a growl leaving his chest as I reached forward and punched in my key code to my apartment.

“Ko,” I heard the Alpha behind me purr as his name slipped from my mouth, my voice and body trembling. “I had a bit of a setback as you can tell, so no pastries today,” the whimper that left him made my cheeks warm because it wasn’t hormonal, it was just Bokuto being a pouty baby who wanted a soft bread or sweet cake.

“Mm s’okay Y/N...” Bokuto’s voice trailed off as he placed his large hands on my hips, palms swallowing my sides and pressing tightly into the plush flesh, fingers gripping down with a bruising force. He was leaning forward and placing soft kisses along my shoulder and up my neck until he licked a small strip up along where my scent glands were and I couldn’t stop the full-body shudder than shook me. “D-do you want me to stop?” His voice was a whisper, still heavy with need but more Bokuto than Alpha was talking to me. I shook my head, stepping into my apartment and allowing the Alpha to come in with me, slipping out of our shoes in a tangled mess of legs, and laughing as Bokuto hastily locked the door behind him.

“I know we’re both kind of teetering on the edge of control right now,” Bokuto continued gently, hands still gripping my sides tightly as he allowed me to set my things down on the bench in my entryway. A low growl leaving him when I almost slipped out of his hold. “But I need to know it’s not just your omega pushing you into this Y/N. I’ve admired you since I first met you, wanted you,” Bokuto was peppering my neck and the side of my face with butterfly kisses, “but if you tell me to stop, to leave... I will. Nothing will change between us if you put up a boundary for yourself right now but everything will change for the worse if you force yourself into something you don’t want...” I couldn’t believe the articulated thoughts of pure, sweet kindness coming out of Bokuto’s mouth but I was so happy to hear them. I’ve had such a huge crush on my long-time Alpah neighbor since he came knocking on my door one late evening when I was testing recipes, a mess of apologies and need as he caught a whiff of the new cakes I was trying to perfect and the poor thing had just returned home from an away game with his volleyball team, starving and exhausted. He spent the night giving me feedback on my testers and I let him sugar-crash on my couch, waking him up with a healthier breakfast more suitable for an athlete in the morning. 

We’ve been close since that day.

Well, close but not as close as right now... despite the aching deep in me that always welled up inside whenever we spent time together. My omega whimpering at how perfect of an Alpha Bokuto would be.

“Y/N?” Bokuto was asking once again, I could feel his hands shaking as his control over his instincts began to slip. 

I simply nodded.

“Y-yes Ko,” I swallowed hard when his hands gripped tighter on my hips, crushing me further against him as his arms snaked up my body to wrap me in a tight hold from behind. “I want this - I’ve wanted this, w-wanted you...” I couldn’t form full thoughts, not like he deserved to hear but we were both in a compromising state of mind right now. “P-please Alpah, need you so badly,” that was all it took to have me turned around so fast in his arms, his lips crashing against mine in a mess of teeth and saliva as pure need took over us both. One of his hands was fisted in the hair at the back of my head, the other cupping the side of my throat, his thumb stroking along my jaw as he deepened the kiss like he was trying to crawl inside my body through my mouth. 

He was pushing me back toward my couch, his hands now fumbling behind me to pull the zipper of my dress and have the fabric pooling to the ground. He growled into my mouth as he hooked two fingers in the hem of my lace panties to pull them down and off while his other hand guided me down softly onto the couch. He had me draped over the arm of the sectional as he layed down between my legs, I was able to peek open my heavy eyes in time to see the primal look on his face before he licked his lips and leant down to lick a long strip up my soaked pussy, the sensation sending electric shocks through my whole body as I arched off the couch with a yelp.

Bokuto let out a deep, rumbling growl with a whisper of “so sweet,” before diving back in and devouring my sopping pussy like a man starved. His mouthed latched around my swollen clit with a pressure that had me seeing stars as he suddenly plunged two thick fingers into me, curling upward against my sticky walls, quickly bringing me to the edge. He didn’t relent his assault on me, mouth staying locked on and fingers curling cruelly as my body shook and arched up off the couch with a shrill scream, my whole body convulsing with wave after wave of electric pleasure shocks. Bokuto removed his fingers slowly and licked them clean, blowing a cool stream of air against my sensitive clit, causing me to whimper in his hold as he delved his tongue into me to lap up more of my slick. I was a whimpering mess above him, wriggling to be free of the stimulation to the newly over-sensitive area but he kept his pink muscle deep in my pussy as his nose occasionally brushed up against my clit causing my hips to buck further against his face. The groans he was letting out were downright sinful and soon had me back on the precipice of another impending orgasm. Bokuto reached one hand up to thumb circles on my clit as he kept himself deep in my pussy, soon I was bucking up against his face as another heavy wave crashed down on me. I was panting and swearing and pleading to be released because the pleasure was stating to morph with a tinge of pain as he kept up the relentless assault.

“K-Ko please no more,” I was whining above him, my chest heaving with broken breaths. Bokuto’s mouth was shiny with my slick as he crawled up my body and crashed his lips down on mine. I could taste myself on his tongue, in combination with feeling his still-clothed cock straining against his joggers, had me mewling with need and bucking up to meet his bulge.

“You say no more but your body is begging for me,” Bokuto muses. “Do you want me to stop?” His golden eyes were looking down at me, dark and swirling with lust as a beautiful half-smile graced his face. I shook my head and he just chuckled. “Use your words baby, ask for what you want,” he cooed, leaning down to pepper kisses and gentle nips along the side of my neck, stopping to suck on a particular spot once my let out a gasp and wriggled beneath his large body caging me in.

“Mmphf, p-please Ko, Alpha, need you,” my cheeks were burning but I didn’t care, my whole body was on fire for the man on top of me, crying out to him for any crumb he’d give me, “need your cock-mm-need to feel so full with you please Alpha, please,” Bokuto crashed his lips back down against mine with an urgent need while he ground his hardened cock against my slick-covered core, the friction of the fabric bringing another whine from my throat.

“How can I say no to such a pretty omega begging to be knotted, hm?” Bokuto was nuzzling down into the crook oh my neck, “pretty omega, perfect omega, my omega.” I didn’t realize when he had shimmied out of his joggers but soon I felt the large tip of his cock pressing into my hole, even with two orgasms and the slight stretch from his fingers earlier it still burned so wonderfully to be full of Bokuto’s cock, every inch of his cock catching on my walls and dragging new sensations forward as I clawed at his back, wrapping my arms and legs around him in an attempt to be closer to him, to pull more of him inside of me. “Such a needy slut for her Alphas cock, hmm?” I nodded my head so vigorously, rolling my hips to coax the man above me into moving. “Poor thing, I’ll give you everything you need...” with a quick snap of his muscled hips, his thick cock was driven deep, the head pummeling against my cervix with blinding pressure as he slammed his hips over and over into me, heavy balls slapping against my slick-coated ass sending shivers up my spine. “Fuck, ‘mega, you’re so tight-fuck- so fucking perfect, so perfect for me.” Bokuto was all bared teeth and snarls above me, leaning down to kiss and bite over his earlier marks along my neck. I craned my neck, exposing more of myself to his assault as he kept up the brutal pace inside of me. It didn’t take long before I was crying out with the sudden hit of an orgasm I didn’t even feel the buildup to, the walls of my pussy were sucking a Bokuto in deeper with each of his thrusts, and soon I could feel the way his hips stuttered, sloppy and less practiced. I didn’t realize his teeth were on me, biting deep into the flesh of my neck where my scent glands were, blood spilling out of the wound and into his mouth and down my neck and chest as Bokuto marked me as his, licking one long, final strip up my neck across the wound, sealing it.

There was a final quick snap of his hips, until Bokuto’s large knot stretched me with a burn that had me whimpering, gasping when it popped through the small opening of my pussy, slick helping to coax it inside as my walls clamped down on him and his knot further in another orgasms as he emptied ropes of hot, white cum deep inside of me. The continued short, sharp thrusts Bokuto made as he continued to empty himself inside of me brought on one more orgasm, my whole body siezing and shaking, walls clamping down around the fleshy member knotted inside of me, my chest was heaving with deep breaths as my eyes edged with black and every small twitch Bokuto made inside of me had me crying out - with pleasure or pain or both - I couldn’t tell. He leant down to scoop me up, our bodies still connected as he sat down on the catch and allowed me to stradle his lap, nestling me tightly against his chest as he kissed my hair and whispered such sweet things to me over and over, petting my hair, my face, peppering kisses along my cheek, jaw, down my throat and to my shoulder, gliding over the mark he made earlier with a gentle ghost of a kiss. My whole body felt like a live-wire ready to make contact with the wrong type of metal at any given moment, but Bokuto kept rubbing small patterns over my exposed skin, kneading his fingers deep into muscles I didn’t realize were sore, kissing un-kissed inches of skin over and over until he felt me relax in his arms, felt my body droop with exhaustion as I rested my head on his shoulder, snuggling into the crook of his neck as I bit back into him, giving him a small omega mark. Bokuto shuddered beneath me, gripping me tighter as I licked up the blood and kissed over the already-healing mark, nuzzling back into him.

“Y/N~” Bokuto said in a whisper sing-song voice, shaking me gently, “I think we can separate now baby,” he said, trying to lift me off of him gently.

“Mm, no Ko,” I grumbled, a gentle growl leaving my throat, “wanna stay like this  a little longer.” Bokuto just nodded, rubbing my back and resting his head on my shoulder.

“Yeah, a little longer baby,” he mused, “but then can you bake me something?”

You just shook your head, your body shaking with held-in laughter as you agreed to bake him as many sweets as he wanted just as soon as you could walk. Bokuto offered to do all the heavy lifting if you just told him what to do - and you relished in the idea of sharing the kitchen with Bokuto - with your Alpha.

What a sweet start to something beautiful. 

[moonlightreal]

Winx news roundup

We’ve got a bit of season nine news and Straffi’s thoughts on the cancellation of Fate.  ‘Cause Straffi gonna Straffi!

 First via Winx Club Rus comes the news that season 9 will move from the preschool channel Rai Yoyo to an all ages channel Rai Gulp, that showed previous seasons.  This suggests that Rainbow may be having second thoughts about pointing Winx to ever younger audiences.  Hooray!  Interesting this happens right after Fate ended. 

Be cool if they decided to bring back WoW to try to appeal to the older audience.  I don’t think they will, but I liked WoW and I’m sad we missed Baba Yaga!

Also this picture is gorgeous.  I don’t know if it’s an early season 9 concept from before they decided to reboot the original costumes, or just fanart, but I like a pretty picture.

Next up we have posts by the man himself!  Straffi rarely speaks to the fans (which I think is smart of him) but he spoke up about the cancellation of Fate.

I’m not sure why he’s upset about how the news of fate was delivered; “it was cancelled” is pretty much the normal thing isn’t it?  At least the show didn’t drag it out or just ghost us like shows sometimes do!  Maybe they’re more polite about it in Italy.

Also there’s some shade thrown at the creators of Fate.  The discord I’m in was all over this accusing Straffi of throwing Brian Young under the bus and kinda yeah but also kinda, it’s true?  The people Netflix chose to make Fate made Fate to be the non-Winx saga and I’m not surprised Straffi is minimizing Fate as part of the Winx franchise now that it’s over.  It’s just so different from the image of “Winx” that must be in Straffi’s head.  Of course, if it was successful and brought Rainbow more piles of money would he have embraced it?  Quite possibly!

And Straffi immediately goes to how he’s gonna make a real, big budget live action movie with sparkling transformation sequences.  Hah!  You tell ‘em, Straffi!  I really hope he succeeds.  But yeah that was definitely not the politest thing ever to the Fate people.  Be nice Straffi, a lot of people worked hard and did their best and they deserve kind words.  It’s only the few showrunners who made the decisions to make Fate what it is.

All in all this is good news.  Our beloved animated show may not turn into a preschool show!  Straffi is pushing for a live action movie that could be Winx’s own PGSM!  And Fate was Fate.  Fate as a strange outgrowth of the Winx story, maybe a misstep but still another piece of story and its own added canon, and Fate as its own thing.  Even as Fate: Tales from Elemental Academy I have mixed feelings about the show but it’s not utterly awful.

...I say that while I put off writing up the last two episodes to watch Enola Holmes 2 and Rings of Power and whatever, and now I’ve got another batch of essays to write.  Look forward to more Fate writeups after I finish!

[circus4apsycho8]

listen listen listen im here for chara *slams table* can i ask for like like like fuckin hugging- like soft hugging ill sob <3

HELL YEAH YOU CAN!

Aight, here we go. I'm getting back in the swing of writing, but I hope you enjoy it, sis. Thanks for the request!

Pairing: Male!Chara x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff overload and minor cussing

...

Cookies & Kisses

This is your favorite song!

A gasp escapes your lips as your eyes light up, turning the volume up on your Bluetooth speaker. You giggle and turn towards the oven, checking on the cookies you had popped in not too long ago. They seem to be coming along nicely.

Well, there’s not much else to do in the meantime. So you hop around the kitchen, throwing in some dance moves during the favorite parts of your song. You close your eyes and smile, deciding to just go with the beat.

You’re so entranced with the song that you don’t feel Chara sneaking up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist.

You shriek, jumping a bit. Chara only laughs in response, tightening his hold around you and nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Chara!” you whine, cheeks flaring with heat. “Why’d you get all sneaky?”

“Because I knew you would get embarrassed and stop,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your neck. “I love watching you dance.”

You huff. “Meanie.”

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Chara states as you wiggle out of his grip to check on the cookies.

“No cookies for you!” you say with a frown.

“WHAT?!”

“No cookies for you!” you repeat, turning your back towards him with a playful huff.

“Sunshine,” Chara says, tone serious as he approaches you. “That’s…a crime. You can’t just deny a man cookies.”

“I can and I will!”

“Don’t make me do this the hard way,” he warns.

“You heard me. No cookies!”

With that, Chara immediately lunges for your torso. You squeal as he lifts you onto his shoulder.

“Chara!” you yell, flailing in his grip as he merely laughs and carries you into the living room. You’re promptly thrown onto the couch.

“Now, now, babe,” Chara says, kneeling down next to you. “It’s either cookies…or tickles.”

You stay quiet, knowing you’ll break if he tickles you. But…you can’t just back down that easily. He scared you!

“What will it be, gorgeous?”

“No cookies,” you say softly.

He sighs. “Alright. You asked for it.”

With that, he immediately goes to tickle your belly. You squeal, trying to escape his grip as your laughter betrays you. He shows no mercy, but you’re determined not to lose.

You handle it well for a while – you laugh, but you don’t give in. But soon enough, your will begins to crumble as tears prick your eyes.

“Okay, okay!” you yell, your ribs sore from laughing so hard. “Mercy! Mercy!”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m sorry, you can have a cookie!”

“Just one?”

“Two! Three! I don’t care, just no more tickles, please!” you cry, gasping for air.

“I suppose that works,” Chara mumbles before he stands. “Okay, then. You’re off the hook…for now.”

With that, you cheer before standing and walking into the kitchen. The smell of rich, chocolate chip cookies is emanating from the oven.

“Ooh, these smell yummy,” you note, opening the oven and pulling out the pan.

“They do. They don’t smell like the ones we had the other night. Are these different?”

“The last ones were from the store. I made the dough for these by hand,” you say with a soft smile. “I think they’re gonna be good!”

You smile as Chara hangs back by the entrance of the kitchen. He leans his arm against the doorframe as he watches you with a soft smile.

Once the tray cools, you gingerly pick up one of the cookies, cradling it in your grasp. You take a minute to blow on it before biting into it.

Immediately, your eyes widen. These are the best cookies you’ve made yet!

“Chara!” you say once you’ve swallowed the bite. “This has to be the best batch I’ve made! The chocolate is so melty and rich-“

You squeak as Chara suddenly walks towards you, winding his arms around his waist and pulling you to his chest. Your eyes widen as you go to look up at him.

“Chara?”

“You’re perfect,” he mutters, lips partly embedded into your hair as you blush again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you say, melting into him. You sigh in content, eyes becoming droopy. It’s a formula for sleepiness – Chara’s warmth, the tightness of his embrace, the odd hour, and the smell of Chara mixed with cookies.

You smile and separate him after a few moments. You look up at him, realizing that he has crumbs on his face and that the cookie in your hand has a foreign bite mark.

“YOU BASTARD!"

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

[spacexcowgirl]

I Think He Knows - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N gets drunk, and decides there's no better time to tell her boyfriend she loves him than the present.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication!! There’s a make out scene. Also food. Otherwise mainly just fluff!

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve ever posted on here and the inspiration for it was born out of a drunken anon ask to @lumosandnoxwriting​ sooo here it is. I’ll probably end up writing another part about the next day and them recouping, but who knows. Totally open to any critiques/criticism/help anyone has to offer! Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

The flashing lights were bright and the music far too loud, but you didn’t care. You had liquid courage flowing through your veins and it was making it increasingly easier to lose yourself on the dance floor. Typically, you weren’t much of a dancer, but several shots of some pink liquid you had forgotten the name of had you abandoning all traces of your usual self. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of a song you didn’t know, giggling every time you made eye contact with Alicia or Angelina.

As the song playing came to an end, you gripped your best friends’ forearms and dragged them from the dance floor before another could start. You briefly heard their groans of protests but couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“I want another drink!” You shouted over the music, pulling them towards the bar.

“We don’t need another.” Alicia pointed out, but she was now following you on her own accord, which told you she wouldn’t be protesting too much.

At the bar, you ordered another round of shots for the three of you—asking specifically for ‘whatever the pink one is called.’ The three of you clinked the small glasses together before raising them to your lips and throwing your heads back, allowing the liquid to leave a burning trail down your throat. 

“I’m going to call him.” You announced brightly, slamming your glass down on the bar.

“Y/N, we talked about this!” Angelina whined. “Tonight is supposed to be girl’s night. Plus, Fred’s out with his friends. You should give him his space.”

“Oh please, you act like that boy wouldn’t drop everything to rush over here and be with her.” Alicia rolled her eyes lightly, a knowing smile lighting up her face.

Her words caused you to blush furiously, which you attempted to hide by sliding your cellphone out of your back pocket and bringing it to your face. The screen was too bright, but as you fumbled around with trying to turn it down, you came to realize just how drunk you really were. You quickly gave up on trying to turn down the brightness and instead opened up the call app, clicking at the button that read ‘Recents’ before tapping the name right at the top. You barely registered Angelina’s disappointed groan as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Freddie!” You called out, a sweet giggle leaving your lips. You were filled with the most wonderful elation at speaking to your boyfriend, sending a flutter of butterflies alive through your stomach.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” The voice chuckled. “This isn’t—”

“Where are you?” You interrupted him, rocking slightly on your heels. Angelina was people watching those out on the dance floor, while Alicia had taken up flirting with some bloke next to her.

“We’re still at Lee’s flat.” There was a pause, then he continued. “Y/N, this is George you called. How drunk are you?”

“I don’t think I’m that drunk. Let me ask Angie.” You paused, putting the phone on speaker so your friend could answer for you. “Ang, how drunk am I?”

“Very.” Angelina answered over the music, earning a laugh from George on the other end of the line. “’s that George? Lemme talk to him.”

Angelina took the phone from your hand, ignoring your pout as she did so, and switched it off of speaker mode. At first, you had tried to listen in on the conversation she was having with George, but you quickly got distracted. You hoisted yourself up into one of the bar seats, kicking your legs back and forth as you gazed around. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your drunken thoughts when Angelina nudged you with your phone.

“He hung up?” You pouted as you looked at the black screen. “Are they coming here?”

“No, they’re staying at Lee’s.” Angelina shook her head. “But they said they’d meet us back at your flat when we leave here.”

“Well, let’s go!” You quickly went to jump down from the stool, only for Angelina to place her hands on your shoulders and hold you in place.

“Uh uh, we’re gonna let you sober up a bit first.” She shook her head. “Don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

“Especially when we know you’ll blame us.” Alicia now joined in, evidently blowing off the guy she had been flirting with only moments before.

Perhaps if you were even a little less drunk, you would have been annoyed by their statements. But currently, you were in a state of almost childlike happiness and wonder. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to thoughts of your boyfriend, causing a cheesy grin to rise to your face. The past 6 months together had been some of the best of your life, and you often found yourself wondering why you two hadn’t gotten together sooner. You had always been friends during your Hogwarts years, but neither of you ever attempted to take that next step in your relationship until years after graduation. Now, you couldn’t be more thankful with the change.

“I’m going to tell him I love him.” You declared, saying the words out loud as more of a way to convince yourself than to inform them.

“What?” Alicia sputtered, shooting a worried glance to Angelina. “You mean, tonight?”

“I don’t see why not.” You shrugged. “I mean, I do love him. Why shouldn’t I tell him?”

“Y/N/N, don’t you think maybe you should wait until you’re sober?” Angelina looked at you hesitantly. “I mean, that’s kind of a big step.”

“You guys don’t get it,” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest like a child being scolded. In your drunken mind, you knew that they would never understand the ins and outs of your relationship with Fred. The two of you had never put pressure on things that others deemed ‘the big stuff.’ Everything always had just come so naturally between you two, and you were convinced this should be no different. A small voice in the back of your head told you that the sober version of you would disagree, but you pushed it away. Your decision was made.

“This is like, exactly what we mean by you doing something you’ll regret and blaming us.” Alicia sighed. “So, you better not be mad at us tomorrow.”

“I won’t be, promise.” You affirmed. 

How could this possibly go wrong?

About an hour later, Angelina and Alicia had enough of the club environment and had decided you were sober enough that they could safely walk you back to your flat. The three of you gathered your things and your excitement bubbled inside of you at the prospect of finally getting to see Fred. You nearly skipped out of the club, Alicia and Angelina trailing close behind you, and into the cool night air. Almost immediately, your eyes were drawn to two heads of red hair, backs to you, talking at the edge of the sidewalk. Although they were nearly identical, there was something about one of their postures and energy, and you just knew that it was Fred. Before Angelina or Alicia could stop you, you were running and jumping on your boyfriend’s back, nearly sending him tumbling over.

“Freddie!” You squealed, attaching your arms firmly around his middle as your feet replanted on the ground. He swiveled in your hold, a bout of laughter leaving his lips, as he took in your presence.

“’s good to see you too, love.” He slurred, bending down at a slightly awkward angle to pepper your face with kisses. You giggled at the tickling feeling his lips left behind.

“Thought we were meeting you guys back at her flat?” Angelina questioned as she approached the three of you.

“That was the plan, but Freddie here has had one too many glasses of firewhisky and decided he couldn’t wait that long.” George rolled his eyes. “Said he’d go with or without me to find you guys, so we’ve just been waiting out here.”

“Great, so they’re both drunk off their asses.” Alicia feigned annoyance, but the small smile on her face as she gazed at her two friends public displays of affection showed that she wasn’t truly bothered.

“Alright, love birds, it’s bloody freezing out.” George clapped a hand down on Fred’s shoulder, pulling the older twin’s attention away from you for the first time. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

Fred nodded and held out his hand for you to take, which you happily accepted. The two of you lead the others, swinging your hands between you as you walked down the sidewalk. The entire time, you whispered and giggled back and forth, finding anything and everything to be the funniest thing you ever heard.

“Your hand is so tiny.” Fred giggled, halting your swinging motion to bring your interlaced fingers up and examine them. 

“Is not.” You pouted. You attempted to pull your hand from his, but his grip on you was firm. He used your conjoined hands to pull you closer to him, causing you to stumble slightly, which of course resulted in both of you giggling even more. Fred placed a kiss on each of your knuckles before letting both of your hands fall comfortably between you again.

“It is, but it’s cute.” He looked down at you dreamily, as if you were the most perfect thing he had ever laid his eyes on. In an instant, all of his drunk giddiness seemed to fade and he became uncharacteristically serious. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Hm.” You pretended to ponder the question, bringing your free hand up to tap your chin. “Dunno. I still think you must have me under some spell or potion.”

“Oh, right, how could I forget?” He grinned. “That reminds me, I’ve gotta make another batch of love potion before this one wears off and you leave me.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” You teased back, knocking your shoulder into his.

“Never.” And you could tell, he was serious.

Up ahead you could see the familiar outline of your building. You hadn’t realized just how tired your feet were from walking in your heels, and you longed for nothing more than to slip them off and lie in Fred’s arms for the rest of the night. Nerves began to bubble in your stomach the closer you got, because you knew that meant you were just another step closer to finally telling him. While you hadn’t faltered in your decision, as you began to sober up slightly, you couldn’t help but be anxious for how he would respond. 

“Do we need to help you two get in?” George questioned once you finally were outside your building.

“We’ll be okay.” Fred shook his head. You cuddled into his side for warmth, causing him to raise your entangled hands and wrap his arm around your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, causing a dopey smile to rise onto your face.

“You’re sure?” Angelina looked between the two of you with raised brows. In response, you simply nodded. “Okay, well, call me tomorrow, alright?”

Both Alicia and Angelina sent you one last glance, one that you knew communicated how they didn’t encourage what you had told them earlier, before they all nodded and offered goodbyes, carrying on their way. Fred untangled your hands and removed his arm from your shoulder to open the door, dramatically bowing forward and extending an arm to allow you to enter first.

“After you, m’lady.”

You giggled loudly at his antics, skipping into the building and beginning towards the stairs. Fred  was hot on your heels, causing you to quicken your pace and run ahead of him, his laughter ringing out behind you as he tried to catch up to you.  Just as you turned on the first landing to continue up the steps, Fred’s hands caught your waist and began ticking your sides, causing your laughter to increase. You did your best to wriggle out of his grasp, which was much easier to do in his drunken state, and continued up the steps. Once on your floor, you quickly turned the corner and found the way to your flat, fumbling with your keys to get in before Fred caught up.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t seem to find the right key let alone slide it in to unlock the door, so Fred was able to catch up as you fumbled. You forgot your efforts and instead turned around and blocked the door, a drunken smirk on your face as you gazed up at your boyfriend.

“Sorry, you’re not allowed in.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re really going to leave your sweet, loving boyfriend out in the hall, after he went out of his way to safely walk you back from the club?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “That is, unless you can tell me the password.”

Fred pretended to think for a moment, before he swooped his head down and pressed your lips together in a kiss. It was clumsy, both of your mouths seeming just a bit off center, but it was clear that neither of you cared. You tangled your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, as he pressed your back against the door. He pulled back first, leaving you in lovesick bliss.

“Did you kiss the fat lady like that every time you forgot the password?” You teased once you were able to find your voice.

“Only sometimes.” Fred teased back.

You rolled your eyes playfully before unwinding your hands from behind his head and finally, successfully unlocking your front door. You pulled Fred into the flat by his collar, dragging him all the way to your living room before dropping down onto the couch and shuffling to let him cuddle up behind you. 

For a few moments, you both laid tangled in each other’s arms, listening to nothing but his heartbeat. The sound was rhythmic, and you knew if you didn’t speak up soon you’d fall asleep any minute. But, you weren’t ready to fall asleep yet. You wanted to stay up, to talk to him, to tell him exactly what was on your mind. So, you shifted awkwardly and held yourself up on your forearms to gaze at him.

“‘m hungry.” You declared, your bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you put on your best puppy dog eyes.

“’s too late to order something.” Fred sighed. “Lemme go look at what you have in your fridge.”

You sat up to let him get up, resisting the urge to sigh at his absence. From the kitchen, you could hear the familiar clatter as he riffled through your pots and pans and opened and closed various cupboards. Somehow the sound was like the sweetest melody. It was like a soundtrack of pure bliss, a reminder that he was there, with you, and that you were happy. In the simplest terms.

You shifted to lay down on your back and stare up at your ceiling, breathing in what you could only describe as domestic bliss. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear him re-enter the room, your focus only being drawn away when the couch shifted from his weight. He lifted your legs to rest in his lap, his hand lightly rubbing up and down your ankle at a soothing rhythm.

“Got a quesadilla cooking.” He declared, his eyes tracing up and down your figure as you moved to sit up and look at him.

“Couldn’t stay away from me long enough to watch it?” You teased lightly.

“Can you blame me?” Fred grinned at you, giving your ankle a light squeeze.

You giggled at the contact before sitting up further, swinging your legs around to straddle his waist. You let your arms rest around his neck, a dopey smile on your face as you fiddled with the short hairs there. Fred leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against yours, causing you both to giggle further. 

“You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?” Fred breathed out, bringing your foreheads to rest together. 

His words caused the familiar butterflies to erupt in your stomach, your smile widening even further. Some part of you knew this would be the perfect moment to tell him exactly how you felt. To tell him that your days are just a bit darker when he’s not around, and how he can make you laugh even when you want nothing more than to cry. You wanted to tell him how whenever he was gone on business trips, you could only fall asleep if you were wearing one of the old t-shirts he had left at your flat, or how you always seem to find something that made you think of him no matter where you were. But, your drunken brain was far from articulate, and your nerves seemed to have a firm grasp on your tongue, so instead, you simply pressed your lips to his.

Fred kissed you back passionately, and it was clear that neither of you minded that both of your mouths held the aftertastes of different alcohols. His lip glided along your bottom lip as his hands found your hips, steadying your movements. When you knocked your teeth together in the drunken kiss, you both pulled back for a moment to giggle, before the passion resumed.

Things seemed to carry on like that for several minutes, wanting nothing more than to be close to one another in every way possible, to be tangled up in anyway that you could, but having to pause every little bit to let out drunken giggles at the situation. You were certain no one had ever gotten you the way Fred Weasley got you, that no one could make you feel so comfortable, and that you were irrevocably in love with him.

Your sweet moment together was brought to a halt by the sound of a loud screeching coming from the kitchen. It took a moment for your brain to recognize it as the sound of your smoke alarm, but once it did you both were to your feet and rushing into the kitchen. Fred cursed under his breath at the clouds of smoke rising from the skillet and quickly set to turn off the burner. You grabbed a drying towel from the counter and began to wave it by the alarm, attempting to cease the godawful beeping it was letting out. After a few minutes, the sound did cease and the smoke cleared, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

“It’s burnt.” Fred pouted, lifting the skillet to show you the blackened quesadilla. 

You weren’t sure if it was the childlike expression on his face or the fact that you both had entirely forgotten about it in the first place, but you couldn’t help but erupt into a fit of laughter. Fred looked at you for a moment as if he were offended by your giggling, before turning his attention the burnt quesadilla, then back to you, and beginning to laugh as well. It was all so absurd and truthfully far from funny, but in that moment, nothing could make you laugh harder.

Fred slid the quesadilla in the garbage before placing the skillet in the sink, resigning to washing it later. In the meantime, you had grabbed the bag of shredded cheese and hoisted yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs as you scooped out a handful of the cheese and began to eat it.

Fred turned and smiled fondly at your actions, crossing the kitchen to settle himself between your legs. He opened his mouth and you wordlessly registered what he was requesting, leaning forward to drop some of the cheese into his mouth. Both of you continued to giggle lightly, feeling nothing but elation as you remained in each other’s presence. 

You raised your hand to offer Fred a bit more of the cheese, smiling warmly when he opened his mouth to accept some. The two of you weren’t as in sync as you might normally be, considering your varying levels of intoxication, and as you dropped some of the cheese onto his tongue you were too slow to remove your hand and he was too quick to bite down, causing him to nip your finger lightly.

You pulled your hand back hastily and Fred’s eyes widened as if he had just mortally wounded you. He swallowed the remaining cheese in his mouth before speaking up, taking your hand in his to examine it.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Merlin, I am so sorry. Are you bleeding? You must be bleeding.”

You weren’t. 

His rambling and concern for you caused you to tilt your head back and let out a loud bout of laughter. 

“‘m fine, Freddie.” You assured, leaning forward to press your lips to his and squash his worries. 

Fred brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the finger he had just bit, nodding to himself after as if to convince himself that now you were fine. Truly, it was just about the cutest thing you had ever seen.

You spent the next few moments polishing off the bag of shredded cheese, Fred abundantly more careful not to nip your fingers anymore. You chatted lightly, talking about every drunk thing that crossed your mind. Once the cheese was gone Fred poured the both of you a glass of water, sloshing it around slightly as he tried to balance them both in one hand and extend the other to you. You hopped down from the counter and accepted his hand, allowing him to guide you back to your bedroom. He spilled nearly half of each water on the way, mostly on himself, but neither of you could find it in you to care. 

Once inside, you threw yourself down into the center of your bed, extending your hands out in a grabbing motion as Fred set the glasses on your nightstand. Neither of you could be bothered to change into pajamas, so you settled by kicking off your shoes and doing your best to get comfortable in the dress you sported. 

Fred kicked off his shoes as well before crawling over to you and collapsing nearly entirely on you. He laid on his stomach and wound his arms around your waist, his head finding the crook of your neck and pressing a few soft kisses there. You wound your arms around his neck, your legs tangling together. Truthfully, it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but you had him close, and that was all that mattered.

You listened to the sound of his breathing as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Your mind was screaming at you to say the words that had been plaguing you almost all night, before it was too late. Now was your chance.

But, then, you noticed that Fred’s breathing had shallowed significantly and light snores had begun to leave his lips. You breathed out a sigh of disappointment from missing your opportunity, mentally cursing yourself and your nerves.

As if the sleeping boy in your arms could read your thoughts, his grip around you tightened, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. The small action brought a smile to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Perhaps you could wait to tell him that you loved him until the morning. Besides, some part of you was aware that he already knew.

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader — PART 2

—♡—

READ PART 1 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he needs to (fake) date you. if he falls inlove again, he loses, and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: making out, pre-smut???, michael as a tiktok fuckboy, + me not proofreading this hahah sorry

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song :)

please excuse any errors. enjoy!

—♡—

It had been a few hours since Y/N arrived at home. She changed into an oversized shirt and a comfy pair of shorts. To be honest, she has never tutored anyone before, except for her baby brother Aaron. With Aaron it was just 1+1 or 2x3, you know? The basics.

"Mom, someone's coming over tonight!" She called out from upstairs,

"Who will?"

Y/N didn't know what to say. Her parents knew about Michael, and how they broke up. She didn't want her mom to know that it was him who would be coming over. Why hide it? She'll see him anyways.

"Michael! Michael Langdon!" Y/N went downstairs to finally face her mom.

"Wait, your ex?"

"Yeah.."

Her mom laughed, "Oh my, looks like something's gonna happen~" She said in a sing-song tone while she prepared dinner.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Oh my goood mom! That was 2 years ago, he just asked if I could tutor him. Apparently, he's failing."

"He's what? Failing? Isn't he one of the top students in your batch?"

"Yeah, I honestly don't know what happened to hi—"

Ding Dong!

Oh my god, She felt her heart beating fast.

Y/N walked to the front door and opened it, and there he was. Michael Langdon in his grey sweatpants and black hoodie.

"Hey, Y/N." Michael greeted, giving her a smile.

Y/N looked him up and down,

"Hi." She gave him a sarcastic look and stepped out of the way, gesturing him to come in.

Y/N's mom squealed, "Oh my, Michael! Look how you've grown!" She squeezed him into a hug and it made Michael laugh.

Aaron came down the stairs to see what the fuss was about. When he saw Michael, he rushed towards him and hugged his thigh.

"Michaeeeelll!! You're here!" Aaron giggled

Aaron loved Michael a lot. When Y/N and Michael were still together, he would always play with him.

"Hey, slugger! Now you've grown alot too, huh?" Michael kneeled down to his height and ruffled his hair, "Yup! I'm a big boy now." Aaron said proudly with his chin up.

Slugger. That was the nickname Michael gave him.

"Is Michael staying over?" Aaron pouted and gave her puppy eyes.

Y/N panicked. How was she gonna explain?

"Well, he actually came over to study for school, but he—"

"Of course I'll stay over! Anything for you, slugger." Michael cut her off. Y/N widened her eyes, making a 'what the fuck are you doing?!?!' expression at him.

Y/N faked a cough, "Aaron, go stay with mom okay? Michael and I will be studying now."

Aaron whined and crossed his arms. "But I wanna play with Michaaael!!"

"You'll do that later. After all, he said that he'll be staying over." She looked over to Michael and gave him a sarcastic smile.

—

After a few moments of arguing with Aaron, Y/N and Michael finally went upstairs. "Your room changed alot." Michael said as he looked around her room for the first time in 2 years. Once Y/N shut the door, she stormed over to Michael.

"Langdon what the fuck was that down there?!?! I only allowed you to come over, not stay over! Where will you even sleep?!"

"In a bed, duh."

Y/N slapped his forehead, causing Michael to wince at the pain.

"Are you that stupid?! Sleep on the fucking floor!" She hid her face in her hands out of frustration, then lifting her head again. "You know what? Fuck it. I don't care anymore."

—

"So if you move negative four here, what will you get?" Y/N asked, pointing her pencil on the equation. It's now 8PM, Michael and her were studying the last subject for the day, which was Math.

Michael analyzed the problem, then wrote down the answer. "Fifty.. three?" He slid the paper to her direction. While Y/N was checking his solution, he received a message from Duncan.

Dunc 🖕🏻: how's tutoring going?

Michael: its fine ig, lmao im staying over 😴

Dunc 🖕🏻: yooo what?? where you gonna sleep?

Michael: beside her? idk im still gonna play video games with her brother so i guess i'll sleep beside her 😶

Michael: brb shes done checking my solution

"Michael," She called for his attention, He let out a hum in response. "Your solution is correct.. But to avoid confusion, change this into an arrow instead of an equal sign, because it isn't the final answer yet." Y/N pointed out his mistake and circled it with a mechanical pencil.

Michael smiled. despite this 'trying to get her trust back' thing, he thought that Y/N was adorable like this. Focused with academics. He admired her alot.

Y/N looked over at Michael, "Langdon, are you even listening?" She snapped her fingers in attempt to catch Michael's attention.

Michael went back to reality, "Yeah. I get it now, thanks Y/N." Michael got his paper back and saw all the check marks. While Michael was distracted with his paper, Y/N stood up and streched. "They're all correct?" He looked up at her and asked in fake disbelief. Y/N rolled her eyes, "Duh, what are all the check marks for, dimwit?" She furrowed her eye brows and made her way to the door.

She glanced over at the clock beside her mirror, it was already 8:15 PM. "Hey, we have to go down for dinner now." She looked over to him and opened the door. Michael stood up and made his way to the door, stopping by the mirror, "Damn, I'm hot." Michael said as he praised his reflection in the mirror. When Y/N heard this, she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him.

"Yeah sure, maybe in a different planet." She insulted, playfully hitting his arm.

"Oh c'mon Y/N, you miss me." Michael leaned on the wall with the support of his arm. Y/N shut the door.

"What makes you say that, Langdon?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the door.

"I've seen the way you look at me, baby. Admit it, you miss me, you wanna kiss me, you wanna be mine all over again."

"Don't hit me with your 'say you miss me, say you wanna kiss me.' shit, Langdon. I'm not that stupid," Y/N pulled on the neckline of Michael's hoodie, signalling him to come closer. Now, their faces were a few centimeters apart.

"Let's face the facts here, Langdon. Actually? you want me." She pulled him even closer, her lips ghosting over his. Michael moved closer in attempt to kiss her, yet to no avail. Y/N smirked and pushed him away. "You know, you're better than that." She gave him a little tap on the cheek and left the room, slamming the door in his face.

Michael was speechless. Y/N did change, a lot.

—

"So what brings you here, Michael?" Y/N's father asked, eating a slice of steak that was on his plate. "I'm currently failing some of my classes and I asked Y/N if she could help me. Luckily, she agreed." Michael looked over to Y/N and gave her a smile. She kicks him under the table, causing him to flinch.

"Will you be staying over, Michael? It's getting late." Y/N's mother asked this time, "If that would be okay with you, Mrs. Y/L/N." Michael replied, looking over to Y/N again.

Well, let's say that everyone looked at Y/N after Michael said that.

The silence made Y/N glance at them, "Why are you all looking at me..?" She said in a confused tone, her mom shot her a 'is it okay if he sleeps in your room' look. Y/N sighed, "Fine, he'll sleep in my room." Now, everyone went back to what they were doing.

After dinner, Y/N's mom called up Michael's parents to inform them that he would be staying for the night.

Y/N was washing the dishes tonight, and of course Michael volunteered to help her.

"Why did you even volunteer? You hate washing dishes, Langdon." She said as she cleaned a dirty plate with the soap filled sponge.

"Oh c'mon, Y/N. Can't I change?" He replied, rinsing one of the dishes that Y/N cleaned.

Y/N scoffed, "You? Change?"

Michael elbowed her side, "Hey, I did change!"

"Whatever." She went back to what she was doing cleaned the rest of the dishes, ignoring Michael's statement.

After a few more dishes, her hair started to slip away from the loose ponytail she made earlier. Her hands were slippery and full of soap, if she were to wash her hands and fix her hair, then go back to washing the dishes, her hands would be wet again. Plus, the drying towel was on Michael's side. So she asked for his help.

"Michael," Her voice was soft. Softer than usual. "Yea?" Michael replied, still rinsing the dishes.

"Can you please tie my hair up? It's slipping away."

"Hold on." Michael shook the water off his hands and dried it using the towel beside him, while Y/N turned her back over to his direction. Michael removed the hair tie and bit on it. He started gathering her hair from the top, combing his fingers through her soft, silky hair. He was very gentle. After he gathered her hair, he removed the hair tie from his teeth and tied her hair, careful not to tug too hard.

Y/N turned around to face him, "Hm, maybe you did change," Michael was curious when she paused. "Because you used to be so aggressive when you tied my hair." She joked and finished off the dishes that were left.

—

It's now 11 pm. Michael is in Aaron's room playing video games, and Y/N is alone in her room, doing some extra school work that was due for next week.

Like any other Friday night, girls like Y/N's age would be out partying like there was no tomorrow. After that one time she was really drunk and a guy touched her inappropriately, she never went out partying again.

Once Y/N finished her school work, she decided to take a shower. She wanted to take advantage of Michael's absence and stay in the shower longer than usual. Like a typical teenage girl, she would blast music in the shower, dancing and singing like she had a whole audience to perform for.

Y/N wrapped a towel around her body and left the bathroom to get her clothes from the dresser. Little did she know, Michael was back from her brother's room.

"I see you still have that body, huh?" Michael smirked and looked her up and down. Y/N turned around to see Michael on her bed. Her instincts told her to scream and throw an object at him, so she did.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Chill, it's not like you haven't sent me your nudes before." Michael dodged whatever she threw at him and laughed.

"Yea, and I regret sending those to your ugly ass. If I could turn back time, I would've sent them to your hot bestfriend, Duncan was it?" She turned around again to get her clothes from the dresser. Michael walked over to her and grabbed her neck from behind,

"What did you fucking say?" He growled in her ear. She smirked and bat her eyelashes innocently at him.

"I said, I would've sent them to Duncan. You should set me up with him, hm?" Y/N knew what she was doing, "Aww, is little Mikey getting jealous?" She mocked in fake sympathy. She removed his hand from her neck, turned around to face him and gave him a pout. 

Michael was furious. What has gotten into him? He doesn't even love her. He just fell into a stupid bet just to fuck some girl's pussy after he fucks with her ex's feelings. But why does he feel like this? Like he needs to have Y/N only for himself?

Before Y/N went back to the bathroom to get dressed, she just had to get on Michael’s nerves again, as if she wasn’t already. At this point, she could literally see fire in his eyes. He was really mad. But why?

"Look at you, Mikey. You can't respond when you react." She giggled and gave him a quick nose boop as the cherry on top for her little act. But she wasn't getting away so fast. When she turned her back on him, Michael aggresively wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her, securing an arm around her waist.

"Where do you think you're going, you little shit? You aren't getting away easily after that stunt." The grip on Y/N's throat slowly tightened. "W-Wh... Why are you so mah-d.. Huh?" She managed to choke out.

Michael left soft kisses against her neck, while slowly loosening the grip on her throat. "See, Mikey? You're the one who misses me." Y/N whimpered, using her free hand to pull on Michael's hair in hopes of prying him off, but he was stubborn. Y/N whispered in his ear, "Whatever it is you're trying to do, Langdon, I'll never give in." She pushed her elbow into his ribs, causing Michael to groan. Finally, Y/N goes back to her bathroom to get dressed.

Once she leaves, Michael punches the nearest wall in frustration. He hated rejection. The girls that he usually fucked with never turned him down, they always wanted more. Why wouldn't it work on Y/N?

Michael sat on the long side of her bed, still thinking about what happened earlier. He couldn't believe that she could play with him like that. It made him look like he was the desperate one, which he is.

He took out his phone to text Duncan about what happened.

Michael: yo dunc, something happened

Dunc 🖕🏻: what happened? slr i'm at a party

Michael: bro she's a tough little shit. i did the usual thing that i would do to another girl, she didn't give in at all. instead, she's playing with me.

Dunc 🖕🏻: lmao man step up your game, she isn't your usual girl

Michael: dumbass you think i'm not?

Dunc 🖕🏻: duh??? if you were actually stepping up your game then you would've fucked her there and then 🙄

Michael: whatever.

Once he heard her bathroom door open, he immediately hid his phone back in his pocket. He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N already dressed in her pajamas. Michael didn't know what to do. His angelic side says to 'go and say sorry', yet his devilish side says to 'try harder and fuck with her feelings even more.' Of course, it was obvious what is choice was.

Y/N plopped herself on the bed and grabbed her blanket that was near Michael. She then placed the blanket over her and locked eyes with him.

Michael crawled beside her and placed the blanket over him as well. They are a few inches apart. Y/N turned the TV on, clicking on Netflix. Though she tried her best to ignore Michael, she can't help but think about what happened earlier. She liked it. No, she loved it. She loved the fact that she was able to get on Michael's nerves, and how he reacted to it. It was hella attractive to her, and the smell of Michael's perfume wasn't helping her either.

Now, Y/N was watching some cartoon show that she loved. "Are you kidding? You still watch cartoons?" Michael complained, gesturing at the TV. "Yea? What about it? I bet you only watch porn." She shot back and pulled the blanket towards her, leaving Michael without it.

Michael laughed, "I just can't believe a girl like you would watch cartoons. I find it cute." He pulled the blanket towards him, sticking his tongue out to tease her.

A few minutes passed by and Michael was on his phone, scrolling on TikTok. The same sound that kept repeating for almost a minute caught Y/N's attention. Was he watching the same video?

Y/N paused the TV and looked over to Michael's direction, averting her gaze to his phone. She took a good look at the video. a shirtless boy with a gold chain, with LED lights in their room.

"You've been watching that video over and over again, Langdon. Do you like him or something?"

"Yea, I like myself."

Like myself? Oh my god, no.

"What do you mean..?" That can't be him in the video.

"That's me."

Y/N's mouth dropped, "Wha— huh? How? I mean, yeah.. but?"

Michael let out a laugh that he had been holding in, "But what? Look, I'll show you." He handed her his phone, which allowed Y/N to have a closer look of the video.

"So you're telling me you blew up on tiktok by thrusting a phone on your pelvis??" Y/N stared at the amount of likes, a fucking million.

"Uh, yeah? That's how TikTok works? Look at the comments." Michael tapped the comments icon and Y/N scrolled through it.

'yo im down bad 😫'

'can we keep him a secret pls'

'chill i have a bf..'

'break my back 🤪'

Y/N bursted out in laughter, "Oh my god, if only they knew." she gave his phone back and Michael looked at her with a puzzled look.

"Knew what?" He asked, "You couldn't even 'break my back' two years ago, Michael!" She said in between giggles. "That was two years ago, Y/N! Two fucking years. I was a virgin!" Michael defended himself, then immediately realizing what he said.

Y/N wasn't aware that she was Michael's first.

"Wait Y/N, the last part isn't tru—"

She smirked and grabbed her phone from wherever she left it. She opened Twitter and decided to tweet about what Michael said, just for fun.

just wanted to let yall know that @m_langdon admitted that 2 years ago he lost his virginity to me 🤩

"What are you typing and why are you smiling?" Michael asked with a hint of fear in his voice. He feared that Y/N would do something that would tear his reputation down.

Y/N gave him a mischievous grin, "Oh nothing, just tweeted about what you said."

Michael's face fell, and Y/N hit the tweet button.

"Did you twee—"

"Yeah, go check your Twitter. I tagged you too."

Michael shot her a slight glare and went to his Twitter.

Y/N's tweet already had 5 retweets, 14 likes, and 8 replies.

"You did not." Michael said, shocked at how she would do something like this. "Ooh sorry babe, I just did." She faked a pout and formed a letter 'L' with her hand.

Michael felt embarrassment fill him, he wanted to scream at her so bad. He never thought that she would go this far. She was never like this.

He took a deep breath, "Why did you tweet that?"

"And you have the audacity to ask why?"

"Delete that tweet, Y/N." His voice was demanding and dark.

"Or what?"

Michael slowly started to kneel on the bed and hover over her. "You don't want to know."

Y/N smirked and fixed her posture, "Infact, I'd like to know. Care to tell me?” 

Michael clearly wasn’t having any of her shit, he was more than angry. He wanted to release all of his frustrations, and he was gonna do that. 

He trapped her by placing a leg on each side of her left thigh. Surprisingly, Y/N did not shrink against the headboard of the bed. She remained in her place. Their faces are centimeters apart now, 

“Now what, Langdon? Just gonna stare at me? Pathetic shit.” She cupped his face and stroked his cheek mockingly, then dragging her thumb against his bottom lip. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael swatted her hand away and crashed his lips again hers. The kiss was so intense, Michael hasn’t kissed any girl like this, it was a foreign feeling for him, and especially for Y/N. Michael’s free hand started roaming throughout her body, tickling her soft flesh. Meanwhile, Y/N was tugging on Michael’s hoodie, “Take this off.” She pulled away from the kiss and gasped for air. Michael took off his hoodie and revealed his naked chest infront of her.

Y/N felt weak. She wanted to fight this feeling so bad, which was lust. But it was too late.

"Fuck me, Michael.." Y/N whimpered, ashamed of her current state. Michael ran his thumb over her bottom lip, "What was that? I didn't catch it." He pouted, teasing her. Y/N couldn't believe herself. She promised herself that she would never fall for any of Michael's antics, yet here she is— completely submitting to him.

Y/N cleared her throat, "Fuck me please.." Michael cocked his head to the side, amused. He was enjoying this. He loved it so much. He finally had Y/N where he wanted her to be, wrapped around his little finger.

Michael's lips ghosted against her cheek, his breath warming up her skin. "Gladly."

And it begins now.

—♡—

this took me like 3 weeks im sorry 😔 nonethelEEEESSSSS i enjoyed writing this despite some breakdowns here and there <3

tags (ily all sm <3): @kitwalker02 @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs @no-mercy-bby @hawtghostgirl @vixemi @antichristwifey @bitchchatter @fallwiththesun @booksandfandomsarelife1 @roseelizabeth666 (im sorry if i missed anyone!!)

—♡—

[parkers-gal]

why T.H.

wc: 6k (angst)

jerk!tom makes an appearance

You were angry, that was for sure. Tom knew why, it was his fault after all, but he'd never admit it. He would never 'man up' to you and just apologize like he should. At least, not when he should, but he would later, when the damage was already done and set in.

Truth be told, you were furious. How could he do that when he promised not to? You were more hurt than angry, if you were being honest. You didn't want to be the 'mother' but quite frankly, you were disappointed too.

It was your dream to own a bakery, but a bakery in London was something to get your hopes up. Dreaming big never ended well for you in the past, but after years of working your ass off, you had managed to achieve something you had wanted since you were young.

Your bakery, Flour Before Frosting, also happened to be where you met Tom, your boyfriend of almost 18 months. He had walked in one day, charming with a dashing smile, and asked for "your best made velvets, frosted with your number." You remember that day vividly, for it was one of the many times Tom would drop by before eventually taking you out and officially making you his girlfriend. Eight months and 17 days later, you moved out of your crappy flat and into his house (though it really just made things easier because you were already over every night).

You were in your shared bedroom, writing down new plans for how to decorate your bakery for the holidays.

"Hey, babe!" Tom called.

"In here, Tom," you yelled back.

"Oh- hey, luv. Got an old friend visiting next week, so I won't be by for our Wednesday lunch plans," he informed you.

"Oh, okay. Do you want some cupcakes and tea? Gonna have a new batch on Tuesday, fresh with new tea that Jackson just got. I think he made it- anyways, he gave me a sample a few weeks and I absolutely loved it. I think you'll like it too, it's just right for you." You rambled, and Tom laughed and shook his head at you.

"Yeah, darling. I'd love some cupcakes for my guest, gonna have to show off your amazing skills, aren't I?"

You blushed, waving your hand in the air as a hint for him to leave so he would stop flustering you. He ran over to kiss your cheek, leaving a Hershey kiss on your desk before yelling out that he'd be at the gym with Harrison for the next two hours.

Wednesday had come by, and you were on a lunch break, leaving Jackson in charge before heading to your favorite café for coffee and some light reading, and maybe even more planning. Heading in, you ordered and sat down in a booth. The door chime rung, making you look up from your papers and notebooks you had spread out to start your organizing. Tom, and what must've been his friend, walked in. You smiled as they went to the side of the restaurant with the small library of old, vintage books. They were facing away from you, sitting side by side in the angled lounge chairs. You were about to go over to and say 'hi' but your waitress came by with your coffee, so you stayed seated and went back to your work.

You saw Tom with the Tupperware box you gave him, enclosed with the small lunch note you always wrote him. He opened the box, giving a cupcake to the man talking to him (you were right in earshot), before reaching in for his, and the note. Before he got the chance to even look at it, his friend spoke up, frosting on his upper lip.

"You said these were made by a friend? This is fucking disgusting. Is it chocolate or..? Damn, ew, is this frosting healthy?" he laughed.

Tom nodded along, "I, uh, honestly couldn't uhm.." he trailed off, his friend looking at him with a confused expression, expectantly thinking for Tom to agree with him. "Yeah, man, I don't really fucking know."

His friend took another small nibble before playfully gagging, and looking at Tom while he bit into it for the first time. Tom reacted in the same way, 'gagging', to agree with his friend, before putting it on the table with his friend's cupcake.

"Who made that? Certainly wasn't Gordon Ramsey."

At this, Tom laughed. Whether he thought it was funny, or if he was just trying to ease the tension, you couldn't tell. You were too busy blinking tears away.

"You said you had tea?" he questioned Tom. Tom nodded. "Good, need something to wash away that disgusting thing people call a cupcake."

You cringed, turning your head to the side with squinted eyes because you truly couldn't sit there and listen to what someone thought was wrong with your life's work.

Tom didn't reply, just getting the tea in the thermoses in his bag, handing one to his friend while opening his. You were contemplating on if his lack of response was a good thing. On one hand, he wasn't completely encouraging the hate you were getting, but on the other hand, he didn't stick up for you either. Right now, that was all you could think about. But then, everything slipped your mind when both boys tried the tea you had specially made (early, for it wasn't to be sold in your shop for about another month) just for them.

Tom opened his thermos, smiling when he took a sniff at it, because you were right. It smelt like something he would love. His friend, however, would not agree. Taking one sip, he was just as rude about it as he was with the cupcake, going as far as spitting it back into the thermos.

He got up, taking both cupcakes with him, and dumped the thermos out in the trash can, the cupcakes following not long after. He sat down next to Tom, shaking his head with a coy grin before speaking.

"Next time, let's get Chinese or something," he laughed, Tom nodding along with him before slipping both thermoses back into his bag, dropping your note in the process. Before he got to pick it up, his friend crumpled it up and threw it towards the trash can, laughing probably a little too loudly about it. You were certain he knew it was a note from Tom's girlfriend. 

You were still for five minutes, stunned. Ultimately, you decided to cut your lunch break short, packing up your stuff as quickly as possible, leaving a tip and rushing out, your back to the boys.

You had yet to bring anything up, though you weren't noticeably acting different around Tom. But when he mentioned the next week that his 'old friend' wanted to "eat dinner and get drunk" you were hesitant. You hoped this 'friend' was temporary, because the effects were already starting to show, and you didn't like what they were.

Tom didn't tell you when he'd be out with, Andrew, he said his name was? but you didn't think it would be the immediate week after the cupcake incident.

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, jotting down ideas for your shop when he came in.

"Oh, Y/N! Andrew and I decided to go out this Friday, said something about clubbing or shit. Anyways, he said don't expect me home early, but I might sneak away if he's drunk enough," he said, rather quickly, for while he was talking, he was filling a water bottle and grabbing some fruit.

"Wait, this Friday? I thought we-"

"Thanks, Y/N! Gotta head out," he was practically yelling, running to kiss you on the cheek before racing out and slamming the door shut.

Did he mean this Friday? His only day off for the rest of the month, the one where you two planned a film night, with take away and late night talks and star walks in the park?

It was only eight o'clock on a Wednesday morning, your late opening day, but you decided to head in early. Walking in, Jackson had already opened for you, being the gentleman he is, just setting up for the day, knowing you didn't want to walk in to a store full of customers without being there. He was sitting at a window table with his boyfriend, Jeremy, giggling and eating a muffin. When the door chime rung, he looked up, his boyfriend turning around to smile and wave while Jackson was coming towards you.

"Hey, Y/N! We're a little short on shortbread today," he laughed at his pun, "so I put in a new batch about 20 minutes ago. The chalk board is set up and the cappuccino machine is on-" he was about to turn away before he stopped abruptly. "Oh! And Tom stopped by while I was in the back. Jeremy said that he wanted you to know something about not eating cupcakes for this new diet? I don't know, he mentioned something about Anthony telling him about some diet that would help fo-"

"Andrew!" Jeremy cut in from behind, correcting him.

"Right, Andrew told him it would help for his job. So he said to stop making his weekly order."

"Oh," you weren't quite sure what you could say. Thank you? What the fuck? It was all jumbled into your brain too fast. "Thank you, J. Well, guess we should open shop for the day." With that, you worked until seven-thirty, an hour later than you usually would.

Arriving home, you walked in and set your bag down, heading for the kitchen to get water. Mid-drink, Tom walked in.

"Why are you home so late?"

You swallowed, placing the cup down, "I was working," you deadpanned, maneuvering around him so your shoulder wouldn't hit his on your way out. He followed you into the living room.

"It's almost 8!"

"Yeah? I don't know what you want me to say, Tommy. I'm sorry? I'll tell you what you want to hear, but that doesn't mean I mean it. "

He was silent for a second, laughing slightly, seemingly letting it go. You weren't joking, but you didn't want to argue, yet. "Right," he laughed again, "Sorry. I did want to talk to you though."

"We are talking."

"Smartass," he joked. You giggled slightly. "I've got to go back to press next week. I leave on Tuesday." You stopped laughing. 

"For how long?"

"I'm always gonna be away for the same amount of time, Y/N, you know that. I'll be back mid October." 

October? It was only the beginning of April.

"Well, I'll be back in London for a few days in July so you'll have that. Press ends around September, but I need to finish up Chaos Walking. I'll be here for Halloween though," he smiled encouragingly.

You nodded. "Okay.. do great things, Tommy," you always told him.

Friday rolled around, and you you were going to close the shop early for your night with Tom, but he was going out, so your plans were out the window. Instead, [your best friend] would be coming over at around eight. Tom would be gone by that time, right?

It didn't matter, because he wasn't even home when you got back from work. It was barely seven, you two usually had dinner together. Well, not this past week because he had plans with Harrison, and his brothers, and Andrew, and Tuwaine...and practically everyone else. Seeing as you had about an hour, you decided to shower, changing into some casual clothes. Tom was going clubbing... he wouldn't be back before 4 A.M., right? You didn't care, [your best friend] would spend the night anyways. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

You were wearing a cute tank, your favorite sleepwear, and some loose sweat pants. You were drying your hair with a towel when the doorbell rang. It rang again, so with the towel in your hand you ran down the stairs, yelling, "just a second," but it rang again. You swung the door open, confused, because [your best friend] always came in unannounced because you two were completely comfortable with each other. Instead, you were met with the boy from the cafe, Andrew. You looked around, and saw Tom's car parked by the curb, Tom waiting in the driver's seat while talking to someone in the back.

"Hey, Tom texted you or- whatever. We're going clubbing, can you get his stuff?"

"Uhm.. stuff?"

"Yeah.. he said you'd put his stuff inna backpack so he could get ready at my place," he answered confidently, as if you knew about this.

"I'm- uh, sorry? I don't have anything," you answered.

"What?" his eyes were wide with annoyance and disbelief.

The car honked, and Andrew turned around, shrugging his shoulder and mouthing something to Tom, before Tom came out and up to you.

"Didn't you get my text, Y/N? About the stuff sitting on my dresser?" he asked, straight up without so much as a 'hello' or 'how're you?'.

"No, I- no. No I didn't get your text, Tom."

"Well-"

"Well?" you interrupted.

"Thanks for, nothing I guess," he responded, moving past you and into the house to retrieve his things. Once again, you were left with Andrew on your porch, only this time he was eyeing you up and down, winking at you before yelling to Tom and going back to the car, Tom following not long after. This time, he didn't even bother saying goodbye on his way out. Just as they drove off, [your best friend] walked up.

"What the hell was that?" she shrieked.

"What?"

"That whole, 'thanks for nothing' bullshit. What kind of boyfriend thinks he can say that to his girlfriend?!"

You started heading in, taking one of her bags with you as she followed you inside. Placing her things down, you turned around, giving her a bear hug which she gladly returned.

"It wasn't that bad. Besides, he's been worse this week," you explained.

She was silent for a moment, shaking her head before talking. "Okay, I see why you called for a girl's night on such short notice. C'mon, lets get changed into some pajamas and get the snacks ready. It's been far too long since we've had actual time with each other," she gave you a sentimental smile, soft and sweet. You nodded, already planning on what to get and where to make the fort of blankets you already knew she wanted.

About half an hour later, she was in comfortable clothes, and you were in the kitchen making hot chocolate, getting chips and dip and pretzels and candy and everything in between. You had both decided to use the guest bedroom, which was accompanied with it's own bathroom. The room was probably a little smaller than the master bedroom, which was normal, but the bathroom was more expensive than yours. Plus, this one was used when the boys came over, so the Xbox, all the video games, movies, and the music equipment was here. Even with all this expensive stuff, the room was still as big as ever, so putting a fort in front of the bed barely took up any space.

You had to make at least three trips for all the food and stuff you were bringing, and because this was a guest bedroom, it had a mini refrigerator. Both of you decided to keep it pg-13, no alcohol or rated-R movies. Tonight, it was a Disney marathon with hot cocoa. At around 11:30, you had just finished your third movie, Beauty and the Beast, when [your best friend] stopped the ending credits and turned to you.

"Before we watch anything else," she turned to you while you did the same, "let's talk. We can fall asleep watching Disney, but we can't fall asleep and keep talking," you interrupted her, laughing, before nodding away. "So.. what's going on? With Tom, I mean, because you mentioned that he was worse earlier this week than he was today, and tonight he was pretty nasty so I mean- yeah, what else has he done?"

You paused, looking down and sighing, giving in. "Well, it started with Andrew, some 'old friend' he wanted to catch up with. I gave Tom some cupcakes and tea from the shop to eat with him. I was on my lunch break when the boys came into the same cafe and started eating. They didn't like it and- well.. they sorta threw it out after gagging about it," you said. Her eyes went wide. "I don't know, [best friend's nickname], I mean at first I was stunned, hurt obviously because it seemed to be on purpose because Tom knows I always go to that cafe on my lunch break. Is it a coincidence that he came to the same cafe at the exact same time I have my lunch break?"

You went on to explain how Tom had cancelled two dinner dates and a movie night within the past two weeks, and that he was going clubbing without inviting you, cancelling his weekly cupcake order and calling you clingy after you texted him about making sure he ate dinner. Not to mention he only just mentioned him leaving next week on a press tour, and spending his only day off with Andrew even though you two had planned spending that day together for a month.

By the time you were done listing off all the reasons, you were sobbing into [your best friend's] chest, trying to catch your breath. It was too late though, because Tom wasn't here and the events leading up to an attack like this could have only been noticed by him, seeing as [your best friend] wasn't here to see them herself. You couldn't hear anything, your pounding heart being the only thing filling your ears. [Your best friend's] attempt to calm you down wasn't working, resorting to the breathing exercises which were slowly drowned out. You could't even get a breath in. The realization hit you: if you didn't take control, you would faint. You had never had an attack this intense in at least four months, so everything needed to help you would take too long to get.

You gripped her arm, unable to focus on anything except for the fact that you were going to faint.

"I'm here, Y/N, I'm right here. It's going to be okay, right? We're gonna work things out. Yeah? Everything's gonna be alright. We're gonna be alright. We'll be alright," she cooed.

You blacked out, only for about two minutes, but you did. When you woke, you sobbed again, finding a steady breath before completely crushing [your best friend] with a hug, gripping her tightly.

"Thank you," you whispered.

She got you settled, convincing you to snack lightly before brushing your teeth, making sure you drank water. The fort was ready, untouched since your movie marathon, so you both climbed in and fell asleep watching Disney.

Four hours later, it was four o'clock in the morning, and the front door slammed shut.

"Y/N!" Tom slurred, dragging out the last syllable of your name. "Y/N!" he repeated, the same way but louder. "Where the fu-! OH! OW!" he screamed.

You and [your best friend] were already starting to sit up, confusion spreading across your faces before she got up, following her directly after. She opened the bedroom the door, and you stepped out, making your way down the stairs and seeing Tom sitting on the ground, missing a shoe with a rip on his shirt sleeve.

"There you are! I wus at the club a-and Andrew and I were hanging out and he took home some girl- he said if he was getting laid that I should come home and get laid by my lame-ass girlfriend, so come here! Fuck me!" he slurred, talking too loudly for your liking.

"Did you just call her a lame-"

"Tom, you're drunk. Go to bed," you cut her off, knowing how protective she would get. Honestly, you wanted her to scream and shout and yell at him, and you wanted to join her. But if you were going to, you wanted him to be completely sober so the guilt would really sink in.

"No wonder you're a lame-ass," he muttered.

"What was that?" [your best friend] yelled.

"Nothing! I'm going up to bed, see?" He looked at both of you before running up the stairs like a kid.

You both stood there, a little hesitant, before going up the stairs, talking on your way.

"Y/N, I swear if you hit him, you better knock some sense into him because that boy is so ridiculously stupid and undeserving of your love."

You laughed, growing quiet because you were beginning to think she was right. 

The next morning, you and [your best friend] got up at nine to make pancakes and bacon, your usual sleepover breakfast. The speaker was playing One Direction, both of you singing and slightly dancing when Tom came downstairs, disheveled and hungover.

It was Saturday, his last Saturday with you, but it had taken him too long to get interested in hanging out with his girlfriend. "Hey, Y/N. Wanna do something today?" he asked.

[Your best friend] looked at you, but you had already made up your mind. "Sorry, Tom, [your best friend] and I are going shopping together. Next time, though,"  you said, before putting your dishes in the sink and slipping out of the room, [your best friend] following you out.

That night, you and your best friend departed ways, telling her you'd call and let her know when she could come over again. You got home, and decided to put your new things in the guest bedroom, because your clothes from last night were still there. The mess, luckily, was cleaned up thanks to [your best friend], who convinced you to help with the cleanup.

It was nearly ten-thirty by the time you got situated. You were in a new set of pajamas, sitting in front of the tele in the guest bedroom on the floor, looking at all the new things you bought. You found this super cute sweater, and a pair of jeans [your best friend] insisted on buying for you. You also found a pair of shoes to go with an outfit you had planned in your head; it was perfect. People say your looks shouldn't matter, but you felt good when you looked good, so you loved fashion. Overall, you and [your best friend] must have spent at least $800.

At around 11, you heard footsteps running around the house, before Tom came into the guest bedroom.

"What're you doing in here? Aren't you gonna sleep in our room?" he looked worried.

You lowered the shirt you were looking at, making eye contact. You hesitated, "I- yeah... Yeah I guess."

"You guess?"

You just shook your head, trying to be playful with it, but ending up avoiding his gaze all together and going back to looking at your new things.

"Y/N?"

You looked up, "Yeah?"

He looked --  surprised almost? There seemed to be a glint of hurt in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded, getting up and setting the shirt back in its bag, "C'mon, lets just go to bed."

He mumbled an agreement, turning around and walking to your bedroom. You left the guest room, closing the door and going into your room. It was weird-- to even consider it your bedroom, because you hadn't slept in it for about three days. The last time you did, Tom wasn't with you. Was it normal? Did all couples go through things like this? You didn't have much time to dwell on the thought, because you were already under the covers, sleep consuming you before Tom got the chance to talk to you about anything.

It was almost noon when you woke up on Sunday. Rolling over, you felt Tom's side of the bed empty. The feeling of the cold sheets didn't come as a surprise to you, he was gone every time you woke up even though he didn't start filming until around 10 A.M. . It was different this time, because it was your last weekend together. He was always at home on the weekends he wasn't away filming. 

You pulled the covers off you, walking downstairs into the kitchen where you were met with Tom and Haz, quietly whispering things to each other. You didn't get to listen long, for both boys shot up and stood straighter, smiling to you. You just looked at them, slightly rolling your eyes before grabbing some juice and heading back into the guest bedroom.

When you came down ten minutes later for breakfast, both boys were talking normally again.

"Just talk to her, alright man?" Haz spoke.

"What am I supposed to say man? I can't just go up to my girlfriend and tell her I'm fucking pissed at how she's been ignoring me. Not gonna be rude like her-"

"Woah- woah woah, Tom. She's not that rude. Just have a civilized conversation with her. It's easy, you're just overthinking it."

"Okay.. okay, yeah- yeah," he stuttered, turning around on his heal but abruptly stopping when he saw you standing in the doorway. His jaw dropped, noticing your anger immediately.

"Maybe I should go-" Harrison started.

"No, no don't bother. I'll go, it's obvious you both want it."

You turned around, going up to Tom's bedroom and getting a change of clothes, immediately putting on your jeans and the rest of your outfit, before Tom came barging in.

"No- Y/N, I'm sorry. Please, let's talk," he begged.

You ignored him, getting some more clothes, enough to last you two days, before going into the bathroom for your makeup bag and some deodorant. Going back into the closet, you grabbed your work backpack, making sure all your notebooks and journals were in it, before shoving the things you had in to join them.

"Y/N, please. I-  listen to me, please. I'm sorry, let's just talk. Talk it through, yeah?" he asked.

You looked up, talking rather emotionless. "No. We can talk when we've both thought our shit through, although I thought it was only you who needed to get their shit together, but obviously I was wrong. I'll be back after work on Monday, if you're even here to notice." With that, you moved past him, grabbing your phone and texting [your best friend], picking up your keys from it's hook and heading for the door. Haz was standing in the living room, and when you passed him he gave you a sentimental look, but you payed no mind as you glared him down, opening the door and slamming it in Tom's face, for he was downstairs too late.

About 10 hours had passed since you left, and Tom had only thought about you for two of them. Andrew and 'the gang' had called him, insisting that him and Haz join them for some fun. Tom had reluctantly agreed, much to Harrison's dismay.

At around eleven o'clock, Tom had had enough 'fun'. The guilt in him was killing him, but his anger for you was killing him even more. Telling Haz he'd be heading out, he drove home, getting into bed and thinking about what you'd talk about when you got back.

Monday had passed, and you were doing better than you thought you would be. You opened shop about 30 minutes early that Monday morning, knowing it was better to keep yourself occupied. It was [your best friend's] week off, so she offered to come with you to work, and 'volunteer' almost. She had quite some experience in waitress-ing , so you gave her that job. Around noon, Tom came into the shop, and [your best friend] called out, "Incoming, [your nickname]."

You looked up from the cappuccino machine, turning around to face the door Tom had just entered. The minute you saw him coming towards you, you spoke. Luckily there weren't that many people around who didn't know you, so they didn't react when you yelled at Tom.

"Get out."

"I just wanted to-"

"Get OUT!" you yelled, louder when Tom didn't listen to you.

He moved forward, leaving a Hershey kiss near the cash register, looking to you for your reaction. You picked it up, and threw it to [your best friend], who unwrapped it and ate it herself. He left after she pointed towards the door.

When you closed shop, you decided to head home, seeing as he was leaving tomorrow and you had obviously thought a lot about what to do. The only option, really: talk it out.

Walking in, you placed your bag by the door and went to get some water in the kitchen. Tom was standing there, staring into space. He noticed you come in, and immediately stood up straighter, obviously becoming more aware of his surroundings.

"Are you- are we talking now?"

"I'm here, yeah. Let's talk," you answered setting your cup down.

"What's your problem?" he asked. You looked at him like he was crazy, so he went on. "I mean, these past few weeks, you've completely ignored me. And when you did acknowledge me, it was a rather rude encounter. "

"You think I'm rude?" he nodded, and you scoffed. "Well I'm sorry you think I'm rude. You wanna know what I think is rude?"

"Look, I'm sorry my being honest upset you. But nobody said the truth was nice," he interrupted.

"Tom, what the fuck?"

"I'm just saying! Out of the two of us, you're the one who has more problems!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that you are always the one who cries over shit, and gets upset at little things," he answered. You looked at him in disbelief. "What I'm saying is you're over-dramatic and too sensitive."

"Oh for fuck's sake," you started. "You just- you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"You said to talk! I'm talking!"

"You're being completely unreasonable."

"Am I? Because all you've talked about is how you think I'm crazy. Do you even have anything to say?"

"Fine! You want me to talk? I'll talk. I've been rude to you because you are the one who let that man you call a fucking friend insult my life's work. You completely agreed with him, took in my hate and didn't even stand up for me!" You yelled. Tom didn't know you knew about that, and he was about to interject but you kept going, "And to make things worse, you kept seeing him! Every single fucking week, it was 'Andrew said this!' 'Andrew said that!'. You cancelled dates to see him! Call me over-dramatic, but when your boyfriend cancels a date on his only day off, I think most girls would be pretty fucking pissed," you walked out of the kitchen.

Tom was in the living room too, following you. "Yeah, well I'm sorry I cancelled our plans, but we live together. Don't you think we see enough of each other because of that?"

"Wha- what?"

"Think about it! We see each other all time because we live together," he reasoned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right,"

"See-"

"If you were ever around, I would see you a lot. But you're never around, so no, Tom, we don't see each other a lot. I work too, remember!"

"Not like I do," he mumbled.

"What?" you yelled.

"Nothing."

"No, Tommy. If you have something to say, you better fucking say it or so help me-"

"I said 'not like I do'!"

"What? Because I'm not some movie star with his head up his ass, I don't work hard?"

"My head's not in my ass, yours is! All I wanted to do was talk things out, not get fucking blamed for things that aren't my fault!"

"Yeah? Well all I wanted was someone better," you quipped back.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What have I done wrong! Please, enlighten me! All you've done is complain about the stupidest things!"

"So my feelings are stupid, now?"

"Did I fucking say they were?" he yelled, voice raising as he stepped closer.

"Sounded like it to me!" you yelled, raising your voice to meet his.

"Just tell me! Do you have anything else to say?"

"You- you really are stupid, Tom."

"No, Y/N. I'm not. You are, not even telling me why you're so fucking angry at me."

"I'm angry because I had my first attack in months because of you. You! The person who told me he'd always be there to help me through one, not cause one. I'm angry because you go out without even bothering to ask if I'd like to join you. A-And then you just throw it at me that you're leaving for, what? Seven months?!  Not to mention you completely stopped eating things from my shop because of a so-called diet? And you're off with that Andrew guy, who eyed me like a pervert even though he knows I'm taken. You know how uncomfortable I am with that! And don't you dare say you didn't know, when you're the one coming home drunk telling me he's picked up another girl and telling you that you should go home and get laid too. God knows you'd listen to him if he asked you to cheat on me. Not to mention how you called me fucking clingy because I was checking up on you. You want me to stop making sure you're okay? You want me to stop caring?" you screamed. "Because you say the words and I will fucking back off for good. "

He was silent for a second, only missing a beat, contemplating on if he should apologize or keep fighting. Because he didn't want you to be angry, but he wanted to win. He needed to win. "Yeah, I wish you would back the fuck off. You're always on me!" he screamed. "And I get wanting to be affectionate, but you're just fucking sickening. Too much love."

That made you stop. "You think I'm loving you too much?" you asked quietly, and Tom looked at you, really looked at you, after hearing the change in your voice. You were quiet, practically whispering now. It wavered slightly, your eyes were glossy and red.

"I- I didn't-" he started, but it was no use. The damage was done.

He knew better than anyone about your past, which had caused a massive buildup in insecurities that were inevitably killing you. When you met Tom, he had promised to discard each and every one of your insecurities until you loved yourself as much as he did.

"No, you did. And you fucking know it." You were walking upstairs, getting yet another bag ready to last you until Tom left for his press tour.

"No, no Y/N, I'm sorry. Listen to me, baby. I didn't mean it," he begged.

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it," you said, choosing a few shirts to shove into your backpack. "Your intentions were pretty clear, Tommy. I'll stop caring for you, stop putting in effort for this toxic relationship. I'll stop loving you, because right now, it seems like loving you is the one thing wrong with me," you said, finding some pants and your makeup bag.

You were making your way downstairs now, "Y/N, Y/N please. Please I need you. I can't leave us like this- not when I leave tomorrow."

"What 'us,' Tom? There is no 'us' anymore."

"What're you saying?" he asked, tears finally falling from his face.

"I'm saying it's time I move on from you. Moving on means not having you. So, we're done," you opened the front door.

Tom stood in the doorway while you gripped the handle. "So- we- we're.."

"I'll be out before you come in July," you filled in. With that you slammed the door, driving to [your best friend's] house, while Tom sobbed on the floor in what used to be a home of two people who loved each other.

[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 9

Promt: 69

Crosshair x AFAB reader

Is the beginning of this me shading how badly guys communicate in bed? Yes.

Also, ugh. I was busy on the 7th, and yesterday I had absolutely nothing going on in my brain. This one isn’t my best work but at least I’ve got something; I’ll try and put something extra out to make up for it. There’s just a lot more monologue than actual action but I didn’t really know what else to do and I didn’t bother to edit because I just want to be done with this. There’s some more notes at the end.

Tags: Oral sex (m/f receiving), bigger reader, body image issues, albino Crosshair (because the art I’ve seen of that is GORGEOUS), some body worship, 

Words: 2305

💋🍆🍑

At first you were nervous, but now you couldn’t find it in you to care. Your lips were wrapped flush around Crosshair’s cock, bobbing and sucking and generally making a mess of him while he groaned under your ministrations. It wasn’t that you’d never done this before, it was just that you’d never been sure you’d been doing this right. You’d tried to ask previous partners what they liked, tried to gauge their reactions from how they responded to what you did, but never really had all that much luck. You were often told, ‘just do what you want’, usually accompanied by silence and expressions that looked like they were suffering. No praise, no correction, no idea that they even liked what you were doing; just a grimace with eyes shut tight until they eventually came.

To say that all this made a deep cut in your self esteem would be an understatement: the only thing you could interpret their reactions as was disgust. You felt like something to be endured, a pity-fuck only for the fact that you might have been the last available option. It stung something harsh, the fact that you might be just that undesirable, but life goes on. You worked hard and took on the job of admiring yourself because nobody else was apparently gonna do it.That is, until you met Crosshair. 

You were assigned to Clone Force 99 a little ways into the war as a medic in lieu of them returning from missions almost in more than one piece way too often. To avoid the inevitability of them showing up dead one day, you were chosen to make sure they never got that far. Things were a little difficult at first, being the only girl among four, then later five guys; privacy was at a premium and you’d had several awkward moments before you’d figured things out with them. You also worried about your size as, even though you weren’t the most vertically gifted, you’d always carried plenty of extra weight and you were concerned they’d make something of the space you took up when it was also in short supply.

Those thoughts were foundless worries though as the boys never seemed to notice, beyond Wrecker claiming you were “squishy an’ great” to hug. Well, maybe they did, but it didn’t make a difference to them as long as you could stitch up any new, unwanted holes they had gotten and make Tech finally get some sleep after a three-day invention bender. You were always very aware of Crosshair though, his presence so very different to those of his warmer, more open brothers. His eyes were sharp, not just in how well they saw, but how they focused on you with a needle-like precision, often feeling them trailing over you like… something. You weren’t quite sure how to unpack his attention. 

One day while planetside you decided to treat them all to a hearty lunch (that wasn’t rations) at a diner with what you’d saved from your astoundingly meager pay. It wasn’t fancy, but the meat and eggs were fresh, the vegetables and fruit were ripe, and it was legal hours to serve alcohol. As you ate and laughed with the Batch you caught Crosshair’s eyes on you so often you began to feel exposed in a way, nervous for reasons you couldn’t define. Why was he staring at you? You were just trying to eat and have a good time. Later that night on the Marauder though, as you were awakened by Hunter to take the next watch as you streaked through hyperspace (Tech finally trusting you enough to leave you alone to watch out for his ‘baby’, if you could call a ship that), Crosshair was suddenly there with you. You were caught off guard, but determined to ignore him and his weird ways. That is, until while making brief small talk while watching the blue-black streak by, his hand came to rest on the flesh just above your knee and softly kneaded there. 

He didn’t slide it further up or change what he was doing, but the gesture was like a shaft of light beaming from a hole in the ceiling of a cave: a bright, exigent beacon that consumed everything else despite its overall minuteness to the whole of the dark. From then on he continued with other small moves: a hand on your lower back when you passed in close quarters, two fingers tilting your head up to look at your face when he thought you were injured, a strong, elegant hand squeezing your shoulders in quiet comfort and straying just a touch down your arms to linger a little too long to be unintentional. You weren’t opposed to this, welcoming the change of him when he’d never made a move to touch you before. He became a little bolder then, a hand on her thigh under the table, a small massage to her lower back when standing next to him, and finally him resting his white-haired head on her lap one day when his brothers weren’t around. He’d been tired in the main common area, sitting next to you on the bench after he’d cleaned his rifle, suddenly shifting and laying on his back, your thighs providing a cushion. 

He layed like that for a good long while, sleepily gazing up to watch as you did small inventory work for your field pack. Lazily he rolled over then, his face turning into your stomach, nose gently nuzzling it. His arms came to wrap loosely around your hips and he mumbled “Soft.” before settling in for a cat-nap. You’d frozen, not quite knowing what to do. This was a whole new level to Crosshair touching you, and you found yourself unopposed to it. You lived, ate, bled, and shared quarters with the entire batch and you weren’t blind or senile; they all certainly had their unique charms that were individually attractive. Crosshair’s was special though, the icy blue of his eyes and the snowyness of his short-cropped curls were certainly standalones among the millions of clones, but it was more than that. The attitude his tall and lanky figure carried had a magnetism you couldn’t deny. So you accepted these advances, and one day you’d both advanced close enough that in the morning you’d awoken happy and freshly fucked in his bunk.

A part of you had tried to be considerate of his brothers in the other berths for a while, but Crosshair’s fingers soon had you forgetting why you were trying to be quiet in the first place. You’d both taken the teasing in stride and soon formed a relationship of sorts. One thing you’d been hesitant on was going down on him; he wasn’t pushy and was quick to toss away anything you didn't want to do, but you so badly wanted to give that to him. Broaching the subject had taken some courage, but Crosshair was nothing if not direct and soon you had him breathy and vocal beneath you, a hand in your hair directing you as a quietly babbled praise. It was the boost you needed, and soon you were comfortable seeking permission to blow him almost all times and anywhere.

And that’s how you found yourself here tonight, a rare occurrence when the rest of the squad was elsewhere, affording you some much needed alone time. You’d stripped for him, teasing him with your curves before sinking down to your knees and leaving lipstick rings up and down his shaft. His head was thrown back on the cot, grin absolutely feral as he pushed and yanked your head to his desires. “Oh yeah, that’s it sweet thing, keep working me like tha- oh fuck!” You’d found that spot with your tongue he liked, the one just on the underside of the head of his cock, removing your mouth from around him you began kissing and nibbling him there gently with your lips. He groaned, a flush staining his pallid skin and he softly thrusting upward into your mouth, getting lost in the sensation of the soft, inviting warmth of your lips.

A quick hiss escaped his lips and he suddenly yanked you off of him. A string of saliva snapped and dribbled down your chin as you stared up at his eyes, pupils mere pinpricks as he gazed down at you. “You’re getting far too good at that, you need to give me a moment.” 

You grinned, revelling in his words. Crosshair could be cruel with them at times, but he wasn’t anything other than honest. You took a moment for yourself and just breathed, admiring the moment and the connection that bloomed strongly between the both of you. He was beautiful, despite what you’d heard some of the regular clones whisper; his differences that would have otherwise marked him for death by the Kaminoans were an integral part of him, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Crosshair blew out a steady breath, “Okay then, I think I’m good to continue.” You grinned and went to crawl up to kiss him but a hand to your chest stopped you and you looked at him in confusion. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in a way that you knew meant he wanted to suggest something. “I’m feeling a little selfish tonight, but I don’t want to just leave you sitting around sweetheart.” You didn’t know what he meant, the confusion must have been obvious on your face because he laughed lightly, a raspy sound that never failed to be attractive, and made a come hither motion with both of his hands beside his face. “Crawl up here and I’ll show you what I want.”

It dawned on you then. “Cross, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

A deep line grew between his eyes as his eyebrows furled. “Why would that be?”

You sighed, “Crosshair… I’ll probably either suffocate you, or crush you. Or both!”

He looked a little surprised at your statement before a rare shit-eating grin bloomed on his face, “Well then, glory, glory, what a hell of a way to die.” You snorted at that but he continued before you could chime in. “You won’t crush me or suffocate me, your legs are strong enough to hold you up, and I don’t know what could be better: your lips wrapped around by cock or my tongue buried in you.” While you’d heard that sentiment from him a lot (him going down on you being a regular occurrence), it never failed to thrill you or make you flush cheek to breast. It was just an angle you’d never thought to attempt before, never having had it suggested to you and you never even really thinking about the possibility. Confronted by it, you were intrigued, but still slightly hesitant. Yes, Crosshair was an elite soldier, but he was also a bean-pole compared to you. What if you accidentally crushed him?!

Crosshair motioned for you to climb up his body one more time, knowing that if you didn’t accept he wouldn’t press the issue. You trusted him, you knew he was competent, he’d proven as well that he trusted you too. There were all the ingredients for this to work. Pushing down on his shoulders to make him lie down fully, you shuffled up his body. When your knees were on the other side of his head Crosshair’s eyes became fixed on your cunt, eyes hungry and greedy for what your body held. Then, trusting him, you turned around and faced his feet before shuffling back the last few inches and breathed deeply to try and dispel your nerves. His fingers grabbed your thighs and tugged downwards toward his eager mouth. “Oh fuck me, just sit yourself down sweet thing and let me fuck you like this.” Well, he asked for it, so you did as instructed and met his waiting tongue. 

At first you tried to sit lightly on him, holding yourself a bit above him so there was room, but Crosshair was insistent and soon you were pulled flush to his lips and you moaned at how he ate at you. He was good at going down, his fingers were long and could reach places in you that you couldn’t, and how he teased you was enough to drive you out of your head. This angle brought out a different edge to it, there was no retreat for him, there was only you and he was taking it all. You shivered and began to lightly bounce and fuck against him, riding him like you otherwise would. Looking down you remembered what he said: he didn’t know what was better, eating you out or you sucking his cock? Well, you thought while gazing down at his member hard and leaking against his stomach, why not see what happens when giving him the best of both worlds.

Leaning forward balanced with one hand on the cot by his hip while the other grabbed him and gave him a few solid strokes. Behind you, you heard him exhale in a hiss after pulling back from you at the sensation of your touch. You took that moment then to slowly take him into your mouth, gently sucking as you slowly slid further and further down his length. He groaned, the raspy tones of his voice tickling your ears while his elegant hands tightened their grip on your thighs and dragged you down to him again. The angle you were working at now put your clit in a perfect alignment with his mouth and he took full advantage of it, sucking and licking sloppily as if you were a ripe fruit. Groaning as well around his cock, you each fed off of the others pleasure.

💋🍆🍑

So Imma just going to call it quits there. I could finish this, but I’m tired, it’s been two days since I’ve posted for Kinktober and I feel bad about that, and I’m upset with how this turned out because I really like Crosshair and this just isn’t it. Sorry dudes :(

Kinktober works

Masterlist

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Summary: Well guys, I’m being stupid again and starting another writing project so here you go. It’s gonna get pretty smutty later, so have at it you heathens 😂

Warnings: There will be throughout this fic mentions of war, abuse, gore, and smut. Minors DNI. 18+ only.

1: A New Beginning

“Yo, Shivvie!” a familiar voice hollered, making you look up from your work.

With a blink, you caught sight of Fives trotting across the room. You waved back in acknowledgement, setting down the pieces you’d been tinkering with and wondering what the effusive trooper wanted from you this time. He normally interrupted your sessions of tinkering, but you were fond enough of him that it normally didn’t bother you.

He jogged up, grinning cheerfully. “Whatcha doing? You working on a project again?”

You just nodded and smiled, patting the bench next to you invitingly.

He plopped himself down, glancing briefly at the pieces you’d set down. “So, the Commander sent me over to getcha,” he started, and your eyes widened.

You leaped to your feet, scrabbling to grab your things. “Fives,” you protested, “shouldn’t you have started with that? I gotta get there-“

“Whoa there, Shivvie,” Fives laughed, grabbing at your sleeve. “Calm down, you’re not supposed to show up for another hour. I got sent to tell you so you’d be ready in time.”

“Oh.” You sheepishly sank back down. “Thanks, Fives. Sorry.”

He chuckled. “No problem. Glad I found you on time. I looked in the mess hall and the docks but couldn’t find ya, so I figured I’d come here. Figured you might be working on something,” he said, gesturing widely at the room. “So whatcha workin’ on this time?”

You tilted your head, glancing down at the datapad and the metal scrap bits scattered around you. “Well... I...” you chewed your lip, picking up the datapad. “I dunno, sorta just experimenting,” you tried to explain your own spur-of-the-moment idea. “I was thinking about drills last time, and I realized a couple of things felt... off. I figured I’d try to figure out the details and try to... y’know, make them better,” you offered, handing him the datapad.

He glanced over the blaster schematics you’d pulled up, and tilted his head curiously. “I mean, I don’t really understand all the details, but it looks like you’re trying to fix the stability?” he guessed, handing it back.

“Sorta,” you said with a nod. “I just feel like there’s too much recoil. I mean, imagine if you could fire it with barely any? It’d waste so much less energy.”

“True.” He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He grinned. “So, you coming to the 79s with us tonight?”

You gave him a slight smile, setting the datapad aside. “Well, I don’t know, Fives. Depends on what the Commander says.” Nervously, you pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did he say what it was about?”

Fives shrugged. “Dunno.” Then he leaped up. “Well, lemme know if you wanna go, you have my commlink number.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Fives. I will.” You realized a split second later what you’d forgotten to ask. “Oh, wait! Where am I supposed to see the Commander?” you called after him.

He turned back. “Hangar Bay Six!” he hollered back, waving as he bounced away.

You shook your head at his boundless energy, turning back to your work. Really, would Fives ever calm down? It was a wonder you ever hit it off.

Then again, opposites did tend to attract.

~

Taking a breath, you shook your head and straightened, picking up your small bag and heading out the door. Considering your role in the 501st, you wouldn’t be surprised if Commander Rex had called you in for some mission or something. There had been the possibility of your getting reassigned, after all.

Heading over to Hangar Bay Six like Fives had said, you let your mind wander a bit, wondering what you’d been called in for. You didn’t think you were in trouble, or else the Commander probably would have come to you personally or called you in straightaway. So it had to be something else, right?

By the time you caught sight of him on the opposite side of the Hangar, your mind had unsurprisingly started to spiral into a pit of anxiety. You were always nervous about getting into trouble, even if you knew you rarely did anything to merit an open rebuke. Still, you’d come to respect the Commander, and you wanted to keep a good standing with him and General Skywalker.

Commander Rex stood by a small group of what seemed to be other troopers, all by a smaller ship. The name Havoc Marauder was painted proudly across the side, and you had to admire the bold name. Rex turned to see you approach as you neared, catching the attention of the others he’d been speaking to.

“Ah, there you are.” He nodded at you. “Thank you for being on time.”

You came to a halt and dipped your head politely, bag still slung over your shoulder. “Yessir. Fives told me you wanted me,” you said, a bit lamely. Still, you gave him a small smile.

“I’m surprised he even managed to find you,” Rex said dryly, earning a small laugh from you. “I’d like you to meet Clone Force 99, a unit that I’ve helped put together,” he said, moving on. He motioned to the others. “They’re an unusual special forces unit, meant to work special ops missions different from the normal cut and dry type. I know that you’ve expressed your hopes to find a group that you’d work best with, and while you’ve been invaluable to the 501st, I’d like you to consider giving Force 99 a try. I think based on your skills that you might suit each other well.”

Curiously, you tilted your head and observed the group of four. At first glance, you immediately noticed that all of them had notable differences from a normal Clone. You wouldn’t necessarily call them disabilities, though according to the Kaminoans they most likely would be. The group seemed to survey you back, and you decided to give them a hesitant smile.

“Pleased to meet you,” you offered with a polite nod. “My name is (Name), though most call me Shiv.” You smiled at the nickname the Clones had given you that you’d readily adopted. “If you’d have me, I’d love to give it a go.”

“You a Nat-born?” The one that seemed to be the leader of the group asked the question, his head tilting toward you in a way that let you easily see the skull tattoo that covered half of his face.

You nodded. “Yes, but I’m far from... I guess what you’d call a Reg,” you said, a little uncomfortably. “I know I’m not a Clone, but I’ve sort of been... viewed like one for most of my life. I... guess you could say I was born for war.” A bitter smile twisted your lips as you glanced down at the floor.

“So what’s your specialty, then?” The one with glasses surveyed you interestedly.

You blinked with a bit of surprise, glancing at Rex. Hadn’t he told them, if he recommended you to the group-?

He shook his head back. “You’re best at describing your own skills. I thought it might be best for you to explain it yourself.”

“Oh.” You supposed it made sense. Hesitating, you glanced at them. “Uh- well, I’m...” You pursed your lips. “Do any of you use any weapon other than a standard blaster?” You decided to preface.

The one with greyed hair and a surly look on his face hefted his weapon in his hands, a sniper rifle. You observed it with a tilted head, mind starting to run its caliber.

“773 Firepuncher sniper rifle,” you automatically murmured, eyes trailing over it. “Oh, has it been modified?” you asked interestedly. “It seems to be a bit different from the standard scope?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I modified it.”

You nodded, then turned to the others questioningly.

The largest one of the group, the one with scars over his whitened eye, grinned at you. “This is my favorite!” he boomed unapologetically, hefting a giant weapon.

You had to smile a little, noting the weapon fit the user. “DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System,” you said with a nod. “That’s one I’m pretty familiar with.”

The lean trooper with the glasses pointed to his holsters.

You barely had to glance before nodding. “DC-17 hand blasters.”

The leader with the tattoo displayed his own hand blaster, IWS, and a vibro-knife.

You had to smile a little, eyes lingering on the knife. “Commander Rex and the others named me after the VibroShiv,” you had to admit. Then you shook yourself. “Um, right. Well, I guess you could in a way call me a weapons expert and analyst. I’ve been responsible for modifying weapons according to someone’s specific skills or fighting patterns. Most of the reason that I have a good grasp of weapons is because I... I um- I am one.”

For a moment, the group just stared at you, as though waiting for you to either yell “Sike!” or explain further.

When you waited for their response, glancing at Rex nervously, they glanced at each other.

“Come again?” the tattooed one said, a little incredulously.

You had the feeling that this would be just as interesting a discussion as the one you’d had with the 501st the first time you’d been introduced.

Part 2: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/653202473626025984/sword-and-shield