#found it again a few months ago but still wasn’t taking them

[my-darling-boy]

Hello there!

More than five years ago you answered an ask "should I still try to get access to gender affirming health care when the world seems to near her end", where you said that it took you a long, long time to get access and that it was a woman on the phone who listened to you, that one just has to find "that one person that cares that opens a few doors". That was also the time where I started applying for HRT &etc, and that last sentence was always on my mind when I got denied or someone sent me to someone else. It was one of the things that kept me going when I truly was loosing any hope of ever getting access to top surgery, and today I got the call that my health insurance has agreed to cover it. I am nearly there, and I have to thank you for it as well. I truly wish that the universe repays your kindness

Thank you for sharing, I’m so happy to hear you’ve gotten yourself so far because it’s not an easy road. Dealing with insurance is an absolute nightmare, but if there’s one piece of advice I’ll continue to give, all it takes is one person somewhere to listen and treat you with dignity and respect, you need a lot of resilience and persistence, but that person is out there.

The story again for anyone that doesn’t know: was trying to get top surgery years ago, kept getting coverage denied, insurance kept suggesting surgeons that had no history of performing ts (one of them was reviewed to have left surgical instruments inside of patients Yikes). One surgeon said I had to wait 9 months for a paid consultation just to answer if she had experience with the procedure, and that was my last straw, I was done being messed about. Called up my insurance, a lady picked up, I vented what had been happening for the last 4 years at the time, I didn’t know what else to do, but she listened. When I told her the latest incident, she suddenly dropped the customer service act and said, “Hold up, they said what?” and so I told her again. She was in disbelief. There was a long pause and she asked if she could put me on hold. About 30-40 minutes go by, I’m waiting, I’ve nothing left to lose. Finally she gets back on the line and apologies for keeping me so long. She says she manually combed the computer database for surgeons offering gender affirming services and found no one… so she said she and the others in the office went and physically hand searched several filing cabinets for a surgeon. She said, “I think we found you someone, he’s in network, he studied at Harvard, he’s a member of a trans health board. We don’t know why he wasn’t in our computer system, but he’s approved,” and gave me his details. I thanked her earnestly for what she went out of her way to do, and she said something I’ll never forget. “You know, I have a son your age. And if he was going through this, I would want him to get the help he needs.” Who knows how long that file had been buried unnoticed in that cabinet or how many more automated denials it would’ve taken for me to leave this world early, but her empathy saved my ass because when she heard me struggling, she thought of her son. Insurance companies are designed to treat everyone like numbers, strangers, or in my case “freaks”. But to her, it was like her child calling her and asking for help. And yeah I’m alive because of her

[wooskirbyplushie]

Meddle About ~ J.YH

✰ Synopsis: bestfriend!Yunho x reader | You happen to run into an old childhood best friend at a bar and hope to rekindle in more ways than one...

✰ Word count: 1k

✰ mdni/18+

✰ Warnings: drinking, no smut but it's suggestive, mentions of cigarettes (let me know if i missed anything else)

✰ Italics are used for inner thoughts, bold italics are used to emphasize words

✰ a/n: In all honestly i wrote this for my friend's birthday, and because like half of my friend's are Yunho biases so I figured why not. This short is based off of the song Meddle About by Chase Atlantic, just because it's one of my favorites, so anyone else who happens to be an Atiny and a C4 fan, this is for you! (also @freakjjunie so you can't say I didn't tag you)

If I could figure it out, id take you back to my house so we could meddle about ~

It was a Friday night and you were dragged to yet another night club with your friends. The air was stiff, with the smell of cigarettes, music blasting with the bass heavy against the soles of your feet. Your friends danced against some strangers on the floor while you opted for the more sane option of sitting at the bar. A tumbler glass of whisky sat in front of you, ice slowly melting into the contents of the glass, with condensation building up on the outside. You picked the glass up and briefly swirled it around before taking a sip, letting the alcohol burn your throat before sitting it back down on the counter.

You took a turn to look at the dance floor, watching how your friends lost themselves to the music, dancing against random guys that wanted nothing more than to get int their pants and dash. You rolled your eyes at the thought and turned back around in your chair, still lost in your thoughts until a voice reached above the music and snatched you out of them.

“Y/n ?? Is that you?”

Your ears perked up at the sudden call, recognizing the voice but not being able to put a face to it. Turning in your chair once again, you locked eyes with your old childhood best friend. Jeong Yunho.

“Yun?? Holy shit, it’s been what, like 6 years?”

Yunho walked over to your spot at the bar, a glass in his hand, and a slight smile on his face. “Yeah just about.. Crazy that we found each other again at a rank nightclub.” He says with a chuckle. “How have you been though? Everything okay?”

You laughed with him about the state that you found each other, sighing about the time you lost with each other. “I’ve been… okay. Uh what about you? You and your girlfriend still together?” You ask, taking another swig of your drink. But when you see Yunho shift awkwardly, you know you struck a nerve on accident.

“Well we actually broke up a few months ago… I guess high school sweethearts wasn’t the word for us.” He says with a dry chuckle, adjusting the way he leaned against the bar. Shit I didn’t mean-

“Get out your head y/n. You didn’t know so it’s not your fault, okay? But uh what about you? Any boyfriend I might have to fight?”

You snorted in response. Honestly that should’ve been enough response to that question. “I haven’t dated since freshman year of college, Yun. Not my thing apparently.”

“I’m sure the right guy will come around.” Yunho replied while making a mental note of what you said. It was then that you finally looked up to get a good look at him. I mean Yunho was always attractive, that’s why you got so much hate in high school for being such close friends with him; because every girl wanted to be you to get close to him.

He had on his class ring he won from your senior year football championship, along with a few other random rings he collected over the years. His leather jacket and loose tshirt adorning the muscles chiseled under his clothes with his chain sitting right in the middle of his chest. His pants were black with rips up until his thighs, with a pair of gray and blue Nikes on. Yeah you could thank yourself for his taste in sneakers.

Even in the dark club, he still looked extremely attractive. His side profile glistened with the led lights softly hitting his face, and you were not proud to say how hot you thought he looked at this angle. Especially with him towering over you while you sat in the bar chair and he stood only a few inches away from you.

Oh I wanna see you undress now, I wanna hear you confess now ~

Chat is it wrong to find your friend attractive?

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

Crap. “No sorry, what’d you say?”

“Did you wanna dance with me? For old times sake.”

Fuck it…

****

And somehow you ended up in the midst of the dance floor with your hips swaying against Yunho’s while his hands traveled all over your body. His cologne had a woody undertone mixed with his natural body scent and it filled your lungs to the brim, suffocating you in the most delicious way. His presence was like a drug and you were addicted; you wanted more and more of him as time went on.

Was it wrong to think of him in that light…?

You caught a glance of your friends across the room with the same guys from earlier, looking like they were getting ready to leave. You had other plans though, and they included a private room, a bottle of champagne, and Yunho. You assumed that he was feeling the same way because it wasn’t long before Yunho spun you to face him, hands still feeling you all over. It was taking everything in you to not let out an embarrassing moan at the way he felt touching your hips and ass.

“Yun…” You warned, it sounding more needy than anything. His head dipped down to your neck in response. “Yes princess?” He obviously wanted you on top of him, why else would he use that name.

Oh for fucks sake.

“Need you… Please Yun?” You said while gripping onto his jacket with one hand, other hand tangled in his hair.

You got me down on my knees, it’s getting harder to breathe out ~

He smirked at your request, you not knowing that you played right into his plan. Yunho grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, out to his car.

“Yes ma’am.”

[poprockspillage]

holy fuck iron pills taste bad

[no-144444]

family fights- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! norris! reader

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He’d done it again. Another win. Oscar Piastri was a two-time GP winner. 

And no one could ever take this one away from him. 

Over the past few weekends, he’d been pretty down about everything. Hungary, the whole ‘papaya rules’ bullshit, and how everyone had something to say about Monza. He’s a fucking racecar driver, and he wasn’t a second driver. It’s in his goddamn contract, thanks to Mark. And anyways, why would he pull over and let Lando take points from him, when he’s so close to P3 in the Driver’s standings? Charles is slowly but surely trying to build a gap, and Oscar is not planning on making it easy for him. It’s his second fucking season of F1, and he’s matching his teammate. Is that not something to be proud of? 

Apparently not in Lando’s fan girls’ eyes. It’s pathetic really, the memes were funny a while ago, and now it’s all getting to be too much. 

And then there’s you. Lando’s sweet little sister who loved Oscar more than life itself. You’d gotten him through the lows of the past few weeks, with just a smile his way.

But Lando wouldn't let you two be together. It was a ‘betrayal’, in his mind. 

It was bullshit. Lando liked having something over him, and you were the ‘thing’ in this scenario. You’d liked Oscar for ages, and you started in secret, too scared to tell Lando. You continued like that for a whole year, somehow hiding it seamlessly. It was the best relationship either of you had ever been in. You matched each other perfectly, and you got to see him everyday, since Lando had brought you on as his physio. Stolen kisses behind closed doors was a-ok with you two, until Lando had to walk into something he wasn’t supposed to. It was your anniversary night and yes, maybe you should’ve checked that the door was properly locked, but when he was kissing you like that? Who would be able to find it in themselves to care? For some reason, Lando walked into your apartment, ready to tell you off for not locking your door, and he found you and Oscar asleep in your bed, 1 year anniversary cards on the counter, and a bottle of wine beside the sink. On the drying rack there were 2 clean plates, two sets of cutlery, two glasses, one bowl, and two spoons. He was so angry. He just stormed in and started screaming at the two of you, telling you that you’d betrayed him for a whole year, making accusations left and right, and generally just ruining your perfect night. 

Then he gave the both of you an ultimatum. Date and lose him as a brother and a friend, or break up and he’d never speak about it again. You two could be friends, but always at a healthy distance. 

It took you both a week to make the decision. You were both crying when you called him to tell him you’d broken up. His response? Good. 

He barely talked to either of you for a month, and you truly feared the worst for your relationship with him. But, in true Lando fashion, one day he just started to be normal again, and everything was ok. 

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Oscar still remembered the way you looked when he'd made the choice to go behind Lando's back. You were wearing your favourite dress, you hair styled perfectly, your nails done, your makeup done, everything. It was for some boring gala that Oscar didn't want to sit through, and neither did you. Though nevertheless you went as the dutiful sister you were and made polite conversation with the gross old dudes who wouldn't leave you alone, and Oscar (he hoped he wasn't grouped in with them).

"Do you want to get some air?" he offered as you finished up a conversation with Christian Horner.

"I'd love to," you nodded, somehow keeping the soft smile on your face.

You burst out of the hall laughing, having run away from Lando. You got on well with Oscar. He was lovely, honestly. "He's going to kill us," you laughed, grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Worth it," he smirked.

You two spent some time outside, eventually ending up outside in the cold French air. You two somehow ended up intertwined on a bench outside the venue.

"I really enjoyed sneaking off with you," you beamed at him.

"I really enjoyed it too," he blushed. "We should do it again some time."

You laughed. "I think Lando will kill us if we pull that again-"

You stopped talking because he'd started kissing you, and you didn't want him to stop.

"I like you," he pulled back. "A lot."

It was so juvenile you almost laughed. Yet, you found yourself answering with; "I like you too."

And thus began your year-long love.

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To be honest, Oscar hated clubs. He hated the sweaty air, the suffocating closeness of everyone, and the heavy drinking. Oscar didn’t drink much, mainly a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, or a celebration drink when there was something to celebrate. He wasn’t a huge fan of feeling out of control.

Despite all of that, he’d somehow been convinced by Lando to go ‘out on the town’. He didn’t want to go out on the town. He wanted to stay home, or bump into you in the cinema near your shared apartment building. You two had been doing that a lot lately, bumping into each other there. You’d sit together, or a few chairs apart, but it’d feel a bit like before you’d broken up. It felt good.

You missed him dearly, as he did you. He knew you were going to see a special midnight showing of Psycho, yet he couldn’t even go because Lando dragged him out. 

“Mate!” Lando shouted from the other side of the VIP booth. 

“What?” Oscar asked, walking up to him. 

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Lando, being the prick he is, signalled to a girl in the middle of the dance floor that looked nothing like you. “Look, she’s nothing like Y/n! It’s perfect!” 

Oscar felt his blood boil, and finally spill over. “Fuck off Lando. That’s not fair-”

“What’s not fair was the fact that you dated my little sister behind my back!” He shot back. 

Oscar grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of the club, into the humid Monaco air. This back alley was usually used for a smoke break, but tonight it would be used as a fucking ring. 

“I’m not expecting you to understand anything I'm going to say, but fuck you Lando. I loved Y/n- I love Y/n, and you took that all away from me because of what?! You felt betrayed? You felt bad? It was overwhelming? We’ve proven that we’re not awkward if we break up, we’re actually ridiculously civil, all for your sake! You’re the one being unfair here. Yes, maybe we should’ve told you earlier. Yes, maybe it was wrong to keep it from you, but for fuck’s sake man! She’s your little sister, I’m your friend, it’s not like you don’t know us! I’d never do anything to hurt her, and she’d never use me, or whatever bullshit excuse you gave me. Now, I know you don’t fucking understand this, but I love her. More than anything in the entire fucking world. More than racing, more than anything. She’s what gets me through the shitty days and even shittier races. Knowing that, once I get out of the car, she’ll be standing there with a smile, or a hug on the occasions where you don’t watch us like a fucking hawk, makes it all fucking worth it for me. You took that away from me, and you took it away from her. It ate at her the entire year we were together that she couldn’t tell you, because well, of course it would! You are her older brother, her best friend. She should’ve been able to tell you about her boyfriend. She questioned herself after every day we spent together, every date we went on, about whether or not what we were doing was right. She felt so guilty. I felt so guilty. But at the end of the day when I saw her waiting for me in my driver’s room, or my apartment, or at the foot of the podium, I knew that what I felt was right. And it wasn’t just me feeling it Lan, she loved me back,” he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “So no, I don’t want to meet someone at a club, I want Y/n. My Y/n. And I don’t give a fuck if you’re upset by that, because I’ve given you every reason to trust me Lando, and I promise you, I’ll never try to hurt her. I’ll keep her safe, and above all, I’ll love her.” 

Lando was taken aback. He was a lot more sober now. He’d never seen Oscar show so much emotion. He’d never seen Oscar show much emotion, point blank. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, crying over his little sister. “Mate, what do you mean?”

“I means you’re a fucking asshole Lando, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want me to date Y/n. It means I’m going to ask her out again, and if she says yes I won’t stop just because you’re a dickhead who can’t stomach the fact that she loves me, and I love her.” 

Lando was again, taken aback. He’d never really had a reason as to why he didn’t like you and Oscar dating, it just felt… weird to him. Then, with about a moment's worth of self-reflection, he realised. He didn’t want to be second to Oscar. All his life, you’d been his biggest supporter, you two were always together, always there for each other, always his little sister. From cradle, to karting, coffin, he thought he’d be the only driver you supported and cared about. Then, in came Oscar, being everything he wanted to be; cool, calm, collected, talented, unprideful, gracious, and kind. Everything he worked to be. It had taken Lando 6 years to get a win, Oscar did it in his first year. It took Lando 2 years to get a podium, Oscar did it in his debut season.  “Well it’s just not right,” Lando shot back. “She’s my little sister, and I’m not being second to you with her! That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to choose you over me!” 

“She chose you! She broke up with me because you asked her to! I don’t know what the fuck you think is going to happen if we start dating again, but it’s not like we’ll just abandon you Lando! She’s your sister, and she loves you more than life itself! For fuck’s sake, if this was all about being scared that she’d pick me over you, we could’ve sorted this out weeks ago!” 

“I have to be second place to a fucking rookie! Do you know how that feels? Bad, Oscar, it feels bad. And now you want to come here and tell me that I’m second place to that same rookie, in my sister’s opinion? Y’know how that feels? Worse!” Lando was crying now, unable to control it. “I’ve been second to someone my whole fucking life, and Y/n was the one person who understood me! And now you want to take her away!” 

“I’m not taking her away, Lando! We’re both still going to be here for you!” Oscar took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take your frustrations on the track out on her, she’s the one suffering for it. You’re suffering for it too, and so am I. Lando, she loves you no matter what, you know that.” “I’m scared alright?” He groaned. “I’m scared that one day I’ll turn around after an interview and see her celebrating you winning over me! I’m scared that she’ll see I’m not as good as you! I’m scared.” 

“You can be scared all you want, but she isn’t like that, Lando. Talk to her about this, she’ll reassure you-”

“And how the fuck would you know? You barely know her-”

“I know her a lot better than you do if this is what you think of her,” Oscar’s words cut through the tension in the warm air. Lando flinched like he’d been hit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me from this shitty night out, I’m going to go find your sister and tell her how I feel. Goodbye Lando.”

Oscar didn’t even bother going back inside to grab his coat, he just started walking. Jimmy’s was a 30 minute walk from your regular cinema, and if his calculations were correct, you’d be getting out of the screening just then. 

As he walked he thought about everything Lando had said. It was pathetic, honestly, why couldn’t Lando have just told you how he felt instead of ruining the incredible thing you and Oscar had going with his own insecurities. Maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe Lando just hadn’t experienced what you two had. 

“Oscar?” you walked up to him, smiling. 

“Hi,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“How are you?” you asked, awkward tension filling the air.

“I’m… I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained. 

“Talk away,” you smiled. 

“Well… Lando and I had this big blow up argument, and I made a choice. I don’t care what he wants anymore, and if he has a problem with me loving you, then it’s his problem, not ours. I want you back Y/n, more than anything. I miss you every fucking day. And if the only reason we’re not together is because of him, then I’m forgetting how he feels. I want you back if you’ll have me.”

You stood there, shocked. It had been 4 months since you and Oscar had broken up. You loved him, but you loved your brother too. You couldn’t put your relationship with your brother at risk for Oscar, could you? Lando had been for you throughout your childhood, a constant. You wouldn’t be able to handle him not being there, would you? “Oscar, when did you two argue-?” “30 minutes ago?” he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I-oh wow. Osc, you know I love you, but Lando’s my brother and… I can’t betray him, can I?”

“Is it betrayal?” Oscar questioned. 

You’d been trying to figure out for the past 4 months why it was betrayal, yet you came up blank every time. Lando had dated friends of yours, and broken their hearts, why shouldn’t you return the favour? “But he said it was. He’s my brother Osc… I can’t just… ruin our relationship-”

“He ruined ours!” he sighed, exasperated. “All because he’s a insecure prick, no offence-” “None taken-” “And he was scared you’d stop picking him over me, which I understand but like, for fuck’s sake, he could’ve just spoken to you about it!” 

You thought for a moment. What did you want? Oscar. Always. You woke up thinking about him, fell asleep thinking about him, dreamt of him. He was everything you’d ever wanted.  “Are we really going to do this Osc?” you whispered into the darkness of the night. 

His lips turned into a smile, and then they were on yours. He’d gotten the girl, he’d gotten the win, and he didn’t care what anyone else said.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[leaderwonim]

THE WORLD NEVER ENDED | JACK HUGHES

pairing. jack hughes x fem!reader (ft. platonic quinn & luke hughes x fem!reader + male!oc x fem!reader)

genre. childhood best friends to lovers, ANGST, fluff, hurt to comfort, reader & jack are both 18-19 in this!

synopsis: Y/N and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away.

The lake house never changes. It still smells like pine and sunscreen, the same old dock creaking under your feet, the same late summer breeze curling through the trees. But this time, you’re the only one here.

You let the beer bottle dangle from your fingers, the glass sweating against your palm as you stare at the still water. It’s late. Too late to be out here alone, and your mom would probably kill you if she found out you were underage drinking, but you’ve been doing this since you were kids—sneaking down to the dock past midnight, toes dipping into the water, whispering about everything and nothing at all.

Except this time, Jack isn’t here. Not really. Not anymore.

The last time you saw him was months ago, after another whirlwind season, after Team USA, after everything. He’d come back, same easy smile, same stupidly messy hair, same Jack. And yet, he wasn’t.

He moved too fast, talked too much about things you weren’t a part of, laughed at jokes from teammates you didn’t know. He had an entire life outside of this town, this lake, this dock. A life that didn’t include you.

It wasn’t his fault though, you couldn’t blame Jack for being excited about this whole new chapter in his life, not when he’s worked his ass off so he could secure a spot in the NHL in the future.

You took a shaky breath, watching as the wind blew the waters back and forth, your thought raced with Jack, Jack, Jack. It wasn’t anything new; you had been in love with him since you had learned what the word love even was, when Ellen and your mom teased you two endlessly after your eighth birthday, declaring that you’d two get married when you were older.

And then he left, at age fourteen to go train at some hockey camp over the summer and you started seeing him less and less. Then he left again for USA Hockey, and all that was left of him was the little times he’d pop up on your screen for a FaceTime, or a quick selfie.

You never told him that it felt like the world had ended whenever he left.

❥

The first time you met Jack Hughes, he was seven years old, standing knee-deep in the lake, grinning like he had owned the world.

“You scared to jump in?” he teases, squinting up at you from where he’s splashing around.

You cross your arms, standing barefoot on the dock, the sun burning hot against your skin. “I just don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

Jack laughs like you just said the funniest thing in the world, and before you can react, he launches a handful of water in your direction. It splashes against your legs, cool and shocking, and you gasp.

“You jerk!” you shriek, but Jack’s already laughing, already diving into the water, swimming just far enough out of reach that you can’t get him back.

You don’t know it then, but that’s how it starts.

The Hughes family’s lake house becomes your second home. Your parents are close friends with Ellen and Jim, and summers are spent tangled in sunburns, mosquito bites, and the smell of bonfires. Jack, being just a few months older, quickly becomes your shadow—or maybe you become his.

You race bikes down dirt paths, climb trees until your hands are covered in splinters, and stay up late whispering under blanket forts in the Hughes’ living room, trying not to wake Luke and Quinn.

“You think we’ll still be best friends when we’re older?” you ask one night, voice sleepy, cheek smushed against your arm.

Jack frowns at you, like you just said something ridiculous. “Duh. Who else am I supposed to hang out with? My brothers?”

You grin brightly, shoving him. “You promise?”

He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

And that’s that.

As you both get older, things don’t really change. Not at first.

Winters are spent at the Hughes’ house in Michigan, watching Jack skate for hours at the rink, your fingers numb from gripping a hot chocolate too tight. Summers are still for the lake house, where the days blur together in a haze of sun, water, and laughter.

Jack is your best friend. The one who sneaks you extra s’mores when the adults say no. The one who ties your skates when your fingers are too cold. The one who always picks you first for street hockey, even when Luke complains about it. The one who knows everything about you.

And you know everything about him, too.

That he gets grumpy when he’s hungry. That he has to listen to music before every game, or else he feels off. That he’s already dreaming about the NHL, about Team USA, about everything that seems so far away but somehow already feels like it’s coming too fast.

You don’t realize when things do start changing.

Maybe it’s when Jack turns fourteen and starts spending more time away at tournaments. Maybe it’s when you turn fourteen and realize your heart speeds up whenever he looks at you a certain way.

Maybe it’s the summer you turn fifteen and see him talking to a girl from town, and something ugly coils in your stomach. You don’t say anything, though. You can’t.

Jack is your best friend. That’s all. Even if you wish it wasn’t.

When Jack is sixteen, everything does change.

It’s the Fourth of July. The lake house is packed, fireworks already popping in the distance. You and Jack sneak away from the party like you always do, climbing onto the dock and lying side by side, watching the sky.

“You excited for the USA team?” you ask, your voice light, like the thought of him leaving doesn’t make your chest ache.

Jack turns his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda nervous, though.”

You smile a little, the same smile that had reassured Jack every time he saw it. “You’ll be fine.”

He shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. “You think so?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “You’re Jack Hughes.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, almost hesitant. The air between you feels different, thicker, heavier. His fingers twitch on the dock beside yours, and for a second, you swear he’s about to reach for your hand.

But then he exhales sharply, sits up. “We should get back.”

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You stare at the fireworks exploding in the sky, feeling like something inside you is breaking.

Jack leaves for Team USA at the end of the summer.

And you don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same again.

❥

At first, you still talk all the time. He calls after practices, FaceTimes you from hotel rooms, sends you stupid selfies from road trips. And for a while, it almost feels normal. Almost.

But then the calls get shorter. The messages come slower.

You see his name on headlines, hear people at school talking about him like he’s some distant star instead of the boy you grew up with. And suddenly, he feels… far away.

Not just in distance. In everything.

And then one day, you realize you don’t remember the last time he called.

You don’t text him, either. You figured he was too busy anyways—too busy with hockey, with interviews, too busy for you.

His absence leaves a hollow space inside you, one you don’t know how to fill. So you try.

That’s how you end up with him.

Aiden West. Star quarterback. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile and dimples that should make your heart flutter.

You meet at a party—one you only went to because your friends dragged you out of your house, tired of you spending your nights holed up in your room, pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that never came.

Aidan’s nice. He’s funny. He buys you drinks and calls you baby and kisses you like he means it.

You tell yourself this is good. That this is what you need.

But when he holds your hand, it doesn’t feel the same. When he kisses you, you don’t melt the way you think you should. And when you close your eyes, it’s not Aidan you see.

It’s Jack. Always Jack.

Quinn comes home in December.

You’re not expecting to see him, not really. Ever since he was drafted, he spent all his time in Vancouver, busy with his own life, his own team. But one night, you walk into the Hughes’ house, and there he is, sprawled on the couch like he never left.

“Quinn?” you blink.

He smirks, sitting up. “Hey, kid.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “You’re, like, a few years older than me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me,” he teases, but then his expression softens. “How’ve you been?”

You shrug. “Good.”

He gives you a look, like he can see right through you. Because of course he can.

Quinn has always been quieter than Jack, more observant. He was the one who bandaged your scraped knees when you and Jack were too reckless, the one who ruffled your hair when you had a bad day, the one who watched you grow up and somehow always knew what you were feeling before you even said it.

And right now, you can tell he knows you’re lying.

“You still talk to Jack?” he asks casually.

You stiffen. “Not really.”

Quinn nods, like that’s what he expected. “He’s been busy.”

“I know,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’s fine.”

He studies you for a moment. Then, his eyebrows furrow. “You dating that football guy?”

You hesitate. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Quinn tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “You like him?”

You swallow. “He’s… nice.”

Quinn leans back, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve seen you happy before.”

You furrow your brows. “And?”

“And that’s not what you look like right now.”

The words hit deeper than you want them to. You look away, staring at your hands.

Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you like the guy, great. But don’t force something that isn’t real just because—” He pauses.

You glance up. “Just because what?”

Quinn meets your eyes, and for the first time, his voice is gentle. “Just because Jack hurt you.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

Because he’s right. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.

❥

Aidan is kind when he breaks up with you.

That almost makes it worse.

You can tell he’s been thinking about it for a while. The way he exhales before he starts speaking, the way his hands stay tucked into the pocket of his hoodie like he’s afraid if he moves too much, you’ll see how much this is bothering him.

“You’re not really here, Y/N,” he says, voice steady but laced with something bitter, something tired.

You don’t argue, because you know he’s right.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I like you. I really do. But I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m the only one they’re thinking about.”

Your stomach twists.

“Aidan—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, forcing a small smile. “I knew. I think I always did.” He swallows, glancing away before meeting your eyes again. “It was never gonna be me, was it?”

You want to tell him you tried. That you wanted to feel something more, something real. But the truth is, no matter how hard you tried, he was never Jack.

And that was never fair to him.

So instead, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yeah. Me too.”

A few days pass, and you still feel hollow, like you’re floating through life without really being in it.

You don’t know why you still go to the Hughes’ house. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s because it still feels like home, even when things don’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, you just need someone who knows you.

Luke opens the door, and before you can even say anything, his face twists in concern.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

You pause. “What?”

Luke steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “You have your sad face on.”

You frown. “Luke Hughes, I do not have a—”

“You totally do,” he interrupts, flopping onto the couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, and after a moment, you do.

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Quinn told me everything.”

You freeze. “Everything?”

Luke gives you a knowing look. “Yeah. And I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Jack since we were kids.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Luke sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Look, I know he messed up. Jack is kind of known for that. And I know you’re hurt. But…” He hesitates. “You still love him, don’t you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Luke—”

“Just be honest,” he says gently.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Luke nods like he already knew that was coming. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

You frown. “What’s this?”

“Tickets,” he says simply.

You blink. “Tickets?”

“To Jack’s game against Finland.” His voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something careful, like he knows he’s walking a fine line. “I was gonna go, but I think you should instead.”

Your heart stops.

“Luke…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he says quickly. “Just go. See him. Talk to him.”

You stare at the tickets in his hand, your pulse pounding in your ears.

This is a choice. A chance.

And to be completely honest, you aren’t sure if you’re ready.

❥

You end up deciding not to go until the last minute.

The plane ticket burns in your hands, Luke’s voice echoing in your head: Just go. See him. Talk to him.

So you do. You land in Finland, stomach in knots, trying not to think about what you’ll even say to him. If he’ll even want to see you.

But then the game happens. And Jack loses.

The scoreboard tells you everything—3-2, Finland. A brutal, heartbreaking end.

Jack stays on the ice, shoulders hunched, wiping his face as the Finnish players celebrate around him. You can see the way he’s blinking rapidly, how hard he’s trying to hold it together.

It doesn’t work.

By the time he’s in the tunnel for postgame interviews, it’s like the weight of everything finally crashes over him. The cameras capture everything; his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips tremble when he speaks, the way his voice wavers when he says, “I feel like I let everyone down.”

Your heart cracks wide open. You don’t think. You just go.

You push through the lingering crowd, through the halls of the arena, heart racing. And then—there he is.

Jack is leaning against the wall, head bowed, gripping a water bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders shake slightly, like he’s trying to get a grip, but he’s losing the battle.

You inhale sharply, willing yourself forward.

“Jack.”

His head snaps up, eyes widening. And for a second, he just stares.

Like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You nod, stepping closer. But before you can say anything else, Jack clears his throat and quickly swipes at his face, straightening up like he’s trying to compose himself.

Then he blurts out, “How’s Aidan?”

You freeze.

Jack lets out a broken laugh, looking down. “Quinn told me you had a boyfriend,” he mutters, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I—uh, I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. “Jack—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, still not looking at you. “I always wanted you to be happy.”

He sniffles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen before.

And suddenly, it’s too much.

The space between you. The months of silence. The fact that he still doesn’t know the truth.

You move before you can stop yourself, closing the gap and wrapping your arms around him.

Jack stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath.

But then—slowly, so slowly—it’s like something inside him gives in.

His hands grip your back, his face pressing into your shoulder, and he melts.

You feel his shaky exhale against your neck. The way his fingers curl into the jersey you’re wearing with his name on the back, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel whole again.

“I don’t—” Jack’s voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Your throat tightens. “Then don’t. Just just let me be here.”

Jack exhales shakily, nodding against you. “Okay.”

Despite your reassurance, he still feels like he’s falling.

The weight of the loss, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all crashing over him, relentless and suffocating. But in the middle of it all, there’s you.

And when you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, he realizes you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your hands stay on his face, thumbs brushing against his damp skin, and there’s something in your expression, something soft and certain that makes his chest ache.

Then you move closer, tilting your head, and suddenly, suddenly—your lips press against his.

Jack stills.

Then, all at once, he melts into you.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing. Your lips are soft, warm, familiar, but new at the same time, like something that was always supposed to happen but never did.

It feels like breathing again. Like finally getting it right.

But then, Jack realizes and he blinks, something clicking in his mind as he pulls back abruptly, still holding onto you but panting slightly.

“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse. “Aidan.”

You shake your head quickly. “We broke up.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

You exhale, your hands sliding from his face to his wrists, squeezing lightly. “Jack, I tried to move on. I tried so hard.” Your voice wavers. “But it was never him. It was always you.”

Jack’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching.

Then, suddenly, he laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound before his face crumples, his eyes shining again.

And just like that, he’s crying.

He presses his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as his grip on your waist tightens.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you to say that,” he whispers, his voice shaking.

You smile softly, brushing his hair back. “I think I do.”

Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the fabric of your jersey, like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go. But you don’t.

Because after everything—after the distance, the silence, the missed chances—you’re still here.

He sniffles, pulling you into another tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

❥

Later, when the chaos dies down and the arena empties, you end up in Jack’s car.

The heater hums softly, filling the silence, the city lights casting faint shadows across the dashboard.

Jack sits in the driver’s seat, head tilted against the headrest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You’re next to him, legs curled up on the seat, leaning against his shoulder.

It’s quiet.

Not awkward. Not heavy. Just comfortable.

Jack sighs, nudging his cheek against your hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You smile faintly, reaching for his hand. “Me neither.”

He squeezes your fingers, his grip warm and sure. “I thought I lost you.”

You shake your head, squeezing back. “You never did.”

Jack exhales, his body relaxing against yours, and for the first time in a long time, hfeels whole again.

❥

The lake house feels the same the next summer.

The scent of pine and sunscreen still lingers in the air, the dock still creaks under your feet, and the water still glistens under the late afternoon sun. But this time, Jack is here. And this time, he’s yours.

He had turned freshly nineteen last month, but still was the same annoying boy you had known since you were seven.

You sit on the old wooden dock, legs stretched out, the warm breeze tangling your hair. Jack is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his other hand resting on your knee, tracing absentminded patterns over your skin.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the occasional laughter from inside the house, where Quinn and Luke are probably chirping each other over something stupid.

Jack sighs, turning his head to look at you. “I missed this.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his. “Me too.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes soft, warm, completely yours. Then, without a word, he tugs you down so you’re lying next to him, your head resting on his chest.

“You know,” he muses, fingers trailing up and down your back, “last summer, I thought I’d never get this back.”

You inhale slowly, letting his heartbeat ground you. “Me too.”

Jack tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But we made it.”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. “We did.”

He grins, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat, then flips you onto your back, hovering over you with that look—the one that reminds you he’s still the same Jack, the same boy who used to splash you in the lake, who used to steal your s’mores when you weren’t looking, who used to be your best friend before he was everything.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Luke’s voice echoes from the house, and you both groan.

Jack turns his head, scowling. “Luke, I swear—”

Quinn’s voice cuts in. “Let them be, Luke. They suffered enough.”

You laugh as Jack rolls his eyes. “I hate that he’s right.”

You shake your head, pulling Jack back down. “Just kiss me already.”

He smirks. “Gladly.”

And as his lips meet yours, the sun dips below the horizon and the lake glistens around you, making you realize everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.

It isn’t until Luke pretends to fake barf that Jack removes himself away from you, opting to chase down his little brother.

“Boys, am I right?” Quinn says, giving you a grin.

You wrap your arms around him, never feeling as whole as you did now.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?” You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who you were yet to win over.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @merviolet-asks , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace

♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

[cherryrikis]

HEAVY HEART

PAIRING football captain!bf jake x fem reader

WARNINGS swearing, dehydration, mentions of jake killing himself (but its just a reference to an argument), a lot of break up talk (spoiler alert - this is not foreshadowing), jake’s kinda depressed, crying and a lot more kinds of sappy stuf

GENRE angst, fluff, also not proofread

SYNOPSIS jake returns home nearly 3 weeks post argument, only to find the house empty. to the public, it seemed you two were broken up, but he denied it. your relationship couldn’t end like this. when you finally do come back, you don’t expect jake to be sleeping in your once shared bed. and you definitely don’t expect him to beg for forgiveness.

part 1 is here. but this can be read as a standalone!

to jake, the world seemed colorless without you.

anything and everything you both once shared a love for, seemed to dull with only one person.

the flowers he bought you over a month ago had wilted, with no one to take care of them.

when jake returned to your shared apartment the day after the argument, he didn’t think you’d be the one to leave. at least, that’s what it seemed like. you didn’t technically leave, just, away from the house.

luckily, jake was able to find out through heeseung that you’ve been staying at yizhuo’s house. at least you were safe.

she’ll come back. she just needs time. he often reminded.

but days bled into weeks, into nearly a month that you’ve been gone, and jake found himself longing for you even more than before.

jake’s usual routine was to brush his teeth, change his clothes, and lie down in bed as he hugged your pillow (now stained with his tears).

his hair was so nappy, it had gone days, nearly a week, without being brushed out.

jake had grown accustomed to this sad usual cycle. but he still wasn’t used to being by himself. at least, not used to being without you.

so when he heard the faint click of the lock at the front door, he jumped up in shock. jake immediately discarded the depressed pillow and ran up to you with your luggage and all.

he pulled you into a tight hug, nearly forgetting the current situation all because he missed you being in his hold. jake realized how much he took you for granted. he just wanted his girlfriend back.

but it wasn’t that easy.

“oh, sorry..” he cleared his throat as he felt you gently try to pull away.

with the space between you two, you could see his features more clearly. your heart ached as you examined his pale face.

the more you looked at him, the more you realized there were three things for certain. one, jake most likely hasn’t gone outside since he came back home from jay’s (due to how pale he appeared and how cold his skin felt).

two, jake hasn’t been sleeping well, if he had even slept at all, due to all the crying he’s done (thanks to his dark circles and puffy eyes).

three, he’s missed you so much beyond compare, you nearly felt the slightest bit of sympathy for him (your discarded pillow on the floor made it clear as you walked into the once shared bedroom).

“can we talk please?” jake croaked out with a sore voice, as he’s had no reason to use it in the last few weeks.

he continued to follow you around the room as you walked over to the closet, tossing your heavy luggage inside of it.

“i know you haven’t been doing well. i heard jungwon and heeseung tried to visit. but you never answered.” you ignored, as you reached up to pull jake’s old sweater (which you stole) off the hanger.

he watched you struggle for a little while, before ultimately grabbing it for you. “thanks.” you murmured, pulling the soft cotton material over your head.

“y/n-” jake started, only for you to cut him off again. “and sunghoon. jay as well. jay and sunghoon actually were the ones who called me, convinced me to come over.”

you briefly looked up at your boyfriend, pausing your actions before moving back down to continue unpacking your luggage.

“y/n..” he trailed off. you acted as if you hadn’t heard him though, focusing on unpacking your bags.

“y/n!” jake called out. his head had been pounding with dehydration now. he wasn’t sure if he was yelling or whispering. the sudden change in behavior had you turning around entirely as you flinched.

“please, baby girl. y/n. can’t we just talk?” he begged. jake watched as you stood up from the ground, before following you as you walked passed him, across the room.

“whats there to talk about? i thought i nagged you so much to the point you ‘wanted to kill yourself’.” you quoted back to your previous argument that caused this distance between you.

jake grabbed you by your arm, forcefully turning you around so you could face him. but when he finally met your gaze, he took note of your glossy eyes, realizing the amount of tears you were holding back.

“jakey. all those things you said were unbelievable, and incredibly hurtful, jake. you can’t just expect me to forgive you. i just.. need more time.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration as you plopped down onto the bed.

“even more time then this last month?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

“yes jake! even more time than that! you don’t understand how much damage you really did to me. i came here with a heavy heart, not even sure if i wanted to be around you. but when i heard from your friends how poorly you were taking care of yourself, i couldn’t just leave you.” you sniffled.

jake reached up to wipe your tears, but you slapped his arm away, moving to wipe your cheek with the back of your hand.

he gave you your space, watching you scoot further away so you had easier access to the tissue box on the floor. the moment was still before he finally spoke up again.

"i'm not asking for forgiveness, im asking you to hear me out. please, my angel girl. im begging you. i want you to know how sorry i am." jake's eyes too began to water.

he watched your face as you hesitated to let the words out, before you finally moved back closer towards him.

"okay. we can talk." you whisper, before grabbing your forgotten pillow off the floor.

“i was just.. so filled with stress, and anger. between failing so many classes, grades dropping, and coach saying i had terrible performance in the last few games, i wasn’t sure if what to do.” jake paused, watching to see if you were paying attention. you nodded in response, gesturing for him to continue.

“i guess i’m just saying i wasn’t able to handle the stress of a relationship back then. if i couldn’t be happy, i had no idea how to make you happy. and i was mad at myself for disappointing you. mad at you for being disappointed in me. everything just kinda came out in the moment. whether you heard it or not, i felt so guilty for saying something i didn’t mean to say.” he sighed.

“oh, my poor jake,” you pouted, moving to rest your head on his shoulder. “baby, if you were going through all of this, you should’ve told me. i know you hate to talk but there aren’t things you can go through alone. and sure, i may have been upset with you for forgetting or missing dates and not communicating, but never disappointed. never ever was i disappointed in you.”

“i guess i should work on that. i just hate confrontation.” he sighed. the two of you chuckled in unison. “it’s okay, i’ll help you out. baby steps, my love.”

“i’m just so scared of hurting you again,” jake started once more. “you’re just so fragile, so delicate to me, you know? i hate the thought of putting you through all that shit again. because i love you. so i want to be more open with you.”

you were glad jake wanted to change for the better, and for you. but you couldn’t lie when you said your stomach dropped a little at the thought of all that he said. but in the long duration you spent apart, it’s clear he’d been thinking about what he wanted to say. he had matured. jake reassured you it won’t happen again, and that’s all you needed. his reassurance.

jake pulls you down, so that the two of you are lying flat on the soft bed. you attempt to sit up, only to be brought back down as jake took your pillow out your hands.

“let me go cook something for us baby.” you hum as he began to pepper kisses all across your cheeks, your forehead, and jawline.

but jake only held you tighter, pulling you closer toward his now warm body (if even possible). “just stay with me mama. you’ve been gone for so long and you already want to leave.” he whined. you chuckle in response, before finally meeting him halfway and pressing a kiss on his plump, dry lips.

"you still have my pillow." you raise a brow.

jake sat up slightly, to throw your pillow across the room. "you don't need it. you have me." he replied, before leaning back down so he could bring your head to lay on his chest.

you smile as you felt his heartbeat begin to beat faster. you were home, and all was forgiven for now. that’s all that mattered.

maybe dinner could wait.

networks ! @en-diaries

taglist ! @pinksweetlittlepiano @yunjica @sunshine-skz @stormy1408 @gardenwons @hellokiittylexii @ivyvioletcarson @river-demon-slayer @blvengene @strawberrynull @maiteeeeesstuff @firstclassjaylee @mersmoon

[lunajay33]

It’s You❤️‍🔥

Summary: You went along with Bella to Italy to save Edward, but when you get there things go unexpectedly and you become mate to the strongest Volturi guard

Pairing: Felix x human female reader

•Masterlist•

Moving into your uncles house a year ago to help him with daily chores and just keeping him company was a nice change from the hot dry weather I was use to when I lived with my mom before she passed, another reason Charlie had to take me in which I was incredibly grateful for, then a few months after I moved in my cousin Bella moved back from Arizona and she became very secretive, I swear some nights I’d hear two voices coming through our shared wall, whenever I tried to question her about it but she’d always brush me off just saying she was up late talking to her mom on the phone

Eventually I got fed up with all the secrets and the way she was treating me like I wasn’t even in her life, so on a rare sunny day I decided to go over to the cullens house, basically Bella’s second home, I pulled up into the drive way amazed by how gorgeous this house was, sure Carlisle was a doctor but this had to be old money to get a house like this around this area

I got out of my old car and knocked three times against the door, after a while and a few faint angry whispers Bella finally opened the door which I find odd since this isn’t her house

“Y/n what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here”

“I’ve had enough of the secrets and how you’ve treated me, we’re family Bella and I’m alone here I just want to be close again like we were as kids”

“Well we’re not kids anymore y/n I have my own life” she said a hint of anger laced with worry in her voice

“I’m not asking for your attention 24/7 I just want a friend” I said upset as I fiddled with my fingers

“Okay im sorry im just stressed, ill make a better effort”

And after that we spent a bit more time together, then Edward left, him and his whole family just up and left leaving Bella in a deep despair, her sorrowful shrieking screams at night draining me and Charlie, and the worst was I didn’t know how to help, I tried getting her out of the house or even just sitting in the living room with her to keep her company but I could still see how broken she was

After months and her seeing Jacob she slowly started to get better, one night I was up in my room reading when a commotion broke out downstairs, I ran down seeing Bella, Jake and Alice arguing in the kitchen

“What the hell is going on?” But before anyone answered Alice spoke

“Bella it’s Edward, Rosalie told him why I came, he thinks he’s dead, he wants to die too” everything was moving so fast, Bella and Alice were running out to her car and I was still in the dark with everything

“Bella what’s going on you’re scaring me” I said looking through the car window

“I can’t explain I have to go”

“Well you’re not going without me, I’ve stuck with you through this and I’m not leaving now” I said matter of factly hopping in the back, Alice gave Bella a wary look before she speed off to the airport, having no clue where we were going until we landed, when Alice finally told me we were in Italy, the scenery zooming past as she drove through town after town until we came upon a old castle town, swerving through a crowd all dressed in robes, Bella went running off and Alice found somewhere to park as we too started making our way through the crowd on foot now

“Alice you still haven’t told me what’s going on” she gave me a gentle smile as we came upon the castle

“You’ll find out soon enough, all I can say is that your life is about to change” her words sent nervous butterflies fluttering in my belly

With what must have been a surge of adrenaline Alice broke the lock on the castle door and we entered feeling the cold air breeze over me, cooling me down from the hot Italian heat

Seeing Edward with Bella and he looked dreadful and just behind them a shorter blonde man with piercing ruby red eyes, accompanied by a very tall man and as my eyes gazed over his body from his feet all the way up to his eyes my world stopped, I felt this pull to him like I’ve never felt before, a man I don’t know had this hold on me that I never wanted to get out of, our eyes never looking away from eachother until a smaller girl broke our trance

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long”

“I won’t be needing your assistance anymore”

“Never the less aro would like a word”

Alice squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as we all followed the blonde girl into a now crammed elevator, with the lack of space my back was pressed up against the tall beautiful man with the ruby eyes

As my adrenaline finally faded away I was left with the realization that I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, Alice’s super strength, the ruby eyes of the strangers around me, the secrecy , it was finally scaring me feeling my heart beat so hard I could hear it and if on air a big hand gently rubbed up and down my back slowly settling my nerves, normally having a strange man touch me would have me running for the hills but there was just something about this ethereal man that I don’t even know the name of, that soothed my soul, like nothing bad could ever happen as long as I’m by his side

The elevator stopped with a ding, opening to reveal a long stone hallway with torches perched on the walls, giving a very eerie vibe to the whole situation, his hand still on my lower back leading me in the direction everyone else was walking til we got to these big doors that his touch went away making me whine for some reason

The little blonde girl pushed open the huge doors effortlessly to show a gorgeous marble room with three thrones with three men sat upon them

“Sister they send you out for two and you come back with two and a two half’s” a younger guy said as the blonde girl went and stood by his side

“Ahhhh Bella is alive fantastic” on of the three men stated standing infront of us

“And who is this?” He said glancing at me with those similar ruby eyes

“It seems one of our family has found their mate” the other glum man said

“What? Mate? What do you mean? Please just someone tell me what is happening” I asked overwhelmed as my bottom lip wobbled

“Oh dear…..may I?” The enthusiastic man asked as he held out his hand

Confused but I placed mine in his as he stared deep into my eyes

“It seems this beautiful girl doesn’t know a thing about us, she merely came to support her cousin”

“Felix how about you take her to your room and explain everything as we deal with this situation here”

“Yes master” his hand was on my back again as he led me out of the room back into the hallway

“Felix…..I like that name” his name sounded nice, sounded right, he looked down at me with the most loving look I could have ever seen

“And what might your name be mio amore?”

“Y/n…I’m y/n”

“Beautiful, a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl” I’ve never been treated like this before and it had my heart soaring

Finally we made it to a wonderful spacious room, the ceiling high, brown stone walls with red and black accent decor, with a glamorous bed in the corner with red silk sheets

“Sit my darling” he said gesturing to the bed so we sat face to face, he gently took my hands in his like I was made of glass

“What did he mean? Am I your mate? And what does that mean?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out but……we are vampires and so are the cullens, vampires have mates and some of us are lucky enough to find them, we’d do anything for our mates like I’ll do anything for you, to make you happy and safe”

His words had me frozen……vampires were real? And I’m mated to one, a gorgeous one at that but still this was all so much

“This…..this is a lot to handle Felix, I mean this is all so new to me I’ve never had a relationship before and definitely not with a vampire, sure you’re extremely handsome but I still don’t know what to do” his smile softened then slowly turned into a smirk

“You think I’m handsome little one?” He asked tucking a strand of hair behind my ear making the blood rush to my cheeks

“Of course anyone with eyes can see that”

“You never have to be worried with me, we can take this slowly, I’ve waited forever for you amore, I can wait a little longer until you’re comfortable” his hand caressing my cheek

I felt more relaxed at his words

“So what now? Do I have to go back to forks? If I do we will never see eachother” my heart clenched at the thought

“If your heart desires you can stay here, but only if that’s what you want, because I know my heart couldn’t handle us being apart, but it’s whatever you want tessoro”

“I……I want to be with you Felix, please”

“Then you will stay with my little one” I had the answer to Alice’s words, my life was going to change but all for the better

Comment if you wanna be tagged in this series❤️

Part.2

[seongwars]

Sports Day!

wc: 1500 warnings: none, just fluff and some humor part of the lads!dadverse a/n: pushing the fish man agenda cause he's my pookie

“Daddy and Mommy! Hurry up!” Ariel bounced in place, her violet space buns bobbing as she waved eagerly at you and Rafayel.

The annual sports festival at Linkon Elementary was in full swing. Parents milled about—some stretching and hyping themselves up, others indulging in food stalls overflowing with festival treats or joining in on family-friendly activities.

And then there was Xavier—blinking sleepily near the bleachers, looking as if he’d much rather be in bed.

“Honey, are you sure you want to run? We can always do something else,” Xavier’s wife suggested, eyeing him with concern.

“Huh?” Xavier stifled a yawn. “No, it’s fine. I got this. Right, Ori?”

Orion's small hand clutched his dad’s sweatpants and looked up at him with the exact same tired expression. He held up a thumbs up, signaling to his father that he had it in the bag.

Ariel giggled and tugged on Rafayel’s sleeve as they approached the track field. “Ori’s dad and Ori and his baby brother all look the same.”

Rafayel glanced over and had to admit—she wasn’t wrong. Xavier’s wife’s genes had absolutely not put up a fight. Orion was an exact copy of his father, and the six-month-old strapped to Xavier’s wife’s chest, baby Atlas, blinked drowsily in perfect sync with them both.  

“Oh, look! There’s Archer’s daddy!” Ariel chirped, pointing across the field. 

Caleb was near the starting line, jogging in place while Archer chattered beside him. Caleb’s entire brood was clustered nearby—Ciel reminding him not to forget the basketball shootout later, while his wife handed snacks to the twins. Rafayel was fairly certain all of Caleb’s kids were at least in the 99th percentile for growth, built like miniature athletes thanks to their dad’s genetics.

A few feet away, Zayne stood rolling his shoulders, his gaze locked onto Caleb as if he were preparing to charge into battle. A few months ago, Archer had “dumped” Elsa, effectively ending their “marriage.” Since then, Zayne had sworn to avenge his daughter’s honor by obliterating Caleb in the parent dash.

“Hi Elsa!” Ariel waved enthusiastically, breaking Zayne’s intense concentration for a moment. Elsa turned around at the sound of her name, her bright smile lighting up her face as she waved back.

“Hi!"

“Oh! Mommy! Daddy! Did you know that Archer broke up with Elsa?" Ariel lowered he voice as she whipped around to face you and Rafayel.

"He said he likes Cece now. Elsa was really sad."

“What!” you and Rafayel exclaimed in unison, completely scandalized by this preschool drama.

Ariel, completely unaware of the impact of her words, continued on. “Yeah, but that’s okay because Elsa said Archer was the best line leader, and I think he likes her again.”

The atmosphere on the field shifted as a heavy presence entered the vicinity. Parents who had been stretching or casually chatting suddenly found themselves standing a little straighter, instinctively sensing something, or someone, had arrived.

“Well, this seems interesting.”

Sylus stepped onto the field, clad in all black. His sleeves were rolled up exposing his veiny forearms and his red eyes were concealed under black sunglasses, sending a message to the rest of the parents that he was going to win this whole thing. 

A few parents exchanged nervous glances.

A teacher hesitated mid-whistle.

Even Xavier, perpetually teetering on the edge of sleep, cracked one eye open in vague curiosity.

“Daddy! You forgot your tiara!” 

The entire field fell into an eerie silence. Somewhere in the distance, a crow cawed.

Cece, marched up to him, a bright pink, plastic, jewel-encrusted tiara clutched in her tiny hands. Sylus, still looking like he could probably take out a small gang with his bare hands, crouched down, and allowed his daughter to delicately place the plastic crown atop his head. The rhinestones caught the sunlight, glittering obnoxiously against his white hair hair.

“You ready, Daddy?” you teased, slipping your arm around your husband’s waist. Rafayel smirked, leaning in against your ear. 

"Always. I’ve got my lucky charm here, after all."

He leaned in to give you a quick peck on the cheek, only to be interrupted by Ariel smacking his arm with all the force her tiny hands could muster.

“Ewww! You’re being so lovey dovey!” She scrunched up her nose, looking personally offended. “You need to get your head in the game, Daddy!”

Rafayel blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What do you mean, Glub Glub?”

“This is serious!” she huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re representing our whole family! Lemuria depends on you!” She gestured wildly toward the field, as if this were the Olympics and not an elementary school sports festival.

You bit back a laugh as Rafayel arched a brow, clearly amused. “So what you’re saying is, I need to focus?”

“Yes!” Ariel stomped her foot for emphasis. “You can be mushy later. Right now, you have to win! Look at the other daddies!”

Caleb was focused, looking every bit like a man who did cardio for fun. Zayne, despite his usual stoic demeanor, was practically burning with vengeance. 

Meanwhile, Sylus, now infamously wearing Cece’s pink tiara, cracked his neck, his expression as serious as ever as he waited for the starting signal. Then there was Xavier, mid-yawn but somehow still managing to look deceptively athletic.

“Daddy. You have to crush them.”

You smirked, giving Rafayel’s butt a playful pat. “Well, you heard the boss. Better not disappoint her.”

Rafayel bent down to meet his daughter’s gaze, a serious expression settling over his face. “Alright, Coach. Anything else I should know before I go out there?”

“Yes. Run fast.”

The participants were lined up at the starting line. The crowd was abuzz with anticipation as kids cheered for their respective parent and the announcer’s voice rang out over the speakers.

“On your marks… Get set… Go!”

Zayne took off like a man possessed, laser focused on Caleb, who was a few feet away, blissfully unaware of the grudge match about to unfold. The Colonel, still seemingly unbothered, was just happy to be there, and that only further enraged Zayne. 

Sylus was right beside him, arms pumping, breath steady, somehow managing to keep the tiara balanced on his head as Rafayel took off beside him. Your husband’s strides carried him forward, muscles flexing as he pushed harder spurred on by the cheers of your little girl.

Then there was Xavier.

What no one saw coming, what no one could have possibly predicted, was the moment Xavier, sleepy and seemingly disinterested, exploded forward. It was like something primal took over, his long legs moving with shocking efficiency, his relaxed posture giving way to a sudden burst of unparalleled speed. 

Zayne, mid-sprint, turned his head just enough to see an absolute blur whiz past him. Sylus, who had been so focused on keeping his form tight and his tiara steady, risked a glance and nearly tripped. 

“Oh, wow, dude’s fast—” Caleb chuckled as Xavier effortlessly overtook him in the final stretch.

The crowd roared.

The kids cheered.

Parents gasped. 

And just like that, the race was over.

Xavier skidded to a stop past the finish line. He blinked at the crowd, the stunned competitors, and the announcer who was gaping at him.

“Oh,” Xavier mumbled, rubbing his neck. “Did I win?”

“You won, Dada!” Ori cheered, running toward him with open arms. Xavier scooped up his son and spun him around. Even little Atlas was bouncing excitedly in his carrier, kicking his tiny feet in celebration.

Rafayel was frozen in place, still trying to process what had just happened. His body had reacted, his legs had moved, his arms had pumped with perfect form. And yet, somehow, some way, Xavier had just whipped past him defying the laws of physics. 

And the worst part?

You had caught the exact moment his soul left his body.

“You did great, Daddy!” Ariel chirped, wrapping her arms around Rafayel in a comforting hug as he collapsed against the bleachers.

Rafayel’s eye twitched as he finally snapped out of his daze. He turned to look at his daughter, his pride, his biggest fan, his coach, only to see that she wasn’t even looking at him anymore. She was watching the replay on your phone.

Tears streamed down your face as you clutched your stomach, gasping for breath. You had watched the video at least five times now, and each time, it got funnier. Because there, right there, was the exact moment Xavier passed him, and your husband made the ugliest, most tragic face known to mankind.

You wheezed, shoving the phone in his face. “Babe, look at this—”

His brows shot up to his hairline, his eyes bulged so wide they practically swallowed his face, and his mouth floundered open gasping for air.

“I don’t want to,” he pouted, turning away from you. 

“Aww you’re still the best to Ari and me,” you cooed, crouching down to poke your husband’s cheek. 

Rafayel exhaled sharply, his cheeks puffing out like a frustrated fish as he stared into the distance. Then, with fiery determination, he straightened his shoulders. Placing his hands on his hips, he rose to his full height, his posture radiating resolve.

“Next year,” he declared. “Next year will be different.”

“Raf, it’s just a school race—”

“There’s always next year.”

[egglain]

HIIIII!! omg I LOved ur Letters to Santa!!! Also all of the dickcember prompts are so good??? Thoughts on day 12 Partridge in a Pear Tree with sukuna (or honestly ANYONE) and reader has a gift for him...reader has been wearing a cute little plug all day getting ready to surprise him!!

This was just a blurb so if you had smth else in mind I'D STILL LOVVE

HAVE SUCH AN AMAZING DAY!!

… And A Partridge In A Pear Tree!

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Modern! Sukuna x GN! reader Content: dickcember day 12 - anal, unshaven, gift-giving; fluff & smut, belly bulging, first times

thank you so much for this request! if there’s a prompt + character you want to see next, requests are open! send an ask :)

Your boyfriend, Sukuna, was hard to surprise.

Not in the he has everything way, like Gojo. No, Sukuna was not very fixated on material things. Not in the don’t know what to get him way either, though that was true.

Sukuna just wasn’t prone to feeling surprise.

He was like a bear trap; open, constantly lying in wait for something to snap at. This spring-trap way of living meant it was nearly impossible to ever catch him off-guard.

But today, you were going to do it.

You were going to surprise him.

It was the winter season, which meant many things for couples around the globe. Arguably the most important, it was the season of gift-giving; of showing your loved ones just how much they meant to you.

You and Sukuna had been going out for almost a year now– molded to each other's routines, intimately familiar with how your lives fit together.

It was December 12th; not a particularly special day on the calendar by any means. 

Which is why it was the perfect date for a sneak attack.

On the bus home, you couldn’t help but fidget next to your big boyfriend.

It was a beautiful day outside. Outside the big windows, bright skies sprinkled perfect little snowflakes onto the earth, painting the world in pristine white. All was still; much of the city was tucked away at home, as you soon would be. As you were supposed to be– that was, if you didn’t have to go shopping with your burly boyfriend for his coworkers.

You didn’t mind it though. Wrapping a wool-clad arm around Sukuna’s big one, leaning your head on his shoulder, you felt peaceful just the same.

“What are we looking for again?”

“Airbrush paints.” Your big boyfriend looked down at you, lips quirking into a soft grin. “Forget already? Why’d I bring you along again?”

“‘Cause you love me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the scrunch of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. Deny it all you want but I know you, Ryomen. Who’s the paint for anyways?”

“Suguru. He wants to design a piece for his boyfriend but the guy’s terrified of needles. They compromised on airbrushing shit on, I guess.”

You hummed. It sounded nice to share a love that understood– that didn’t demand or compromise, but that found a third way. One where no one got hurt.

“And what’re you getting for Choso?”

“I have to get something for him?”

You elbowed Sukuna between the ribs, and the pretty noise he made– the bark of a laugh– made it worth it.

“Fuck– you’re a bony little shit, y’know that?” Sukuna looked down at you with amusement, shaking his head.

Few would mess with a guy like him. Easily a head and a half taller than you, wide as a fucking door, tattooed from head to toe; he looked like a criminal. And quite frankly, he acted the part, too.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Yeah, whatever. I got somethin’ for Kamo months ago.”

“Piercing stuff?”

“Oh– no. Those ancestry tracking kits that steal your DNA for nefarious purposes. He wants to take one.”

Weird gift, but whatever made him happy.

As much as Sukuna would never admit it, his coworkers were a lot more to him than just that. The guys at the shop had become a little family. Making them happy made your boyfriend happy.

So you let him drag you around town in search of the best, only stopping to subtly readjust a few times.

Your boyfriend– your thoughtful, lovely, intelligent boyfriend– had no clue what he was in for.

Beneath the warm layers of wool and fleece, you were dripping.

A fat metal plug, about 3 inches long, sat snug inside your ass. A pretty pink gem– the same soft colour as your boyfriend’s hair– was cozily nuzzled between the mounds of your ass.

You had never done this before.

Your tush was off-limits, as much as it pained Sukuna to see such a tight hole go to waste.

Your boyfriend was a creature of possession, of marking and territory and he was never satisfied until he was sure his claim was clear.

He had been yearning for a taste of your ass since you first took your pants off; desperate to fuck you open on his fat cock, to mold you to the shape of his dick, leave you so far gaped you could never erase his mark. He wanted to pump you full, watch his seed fill that hole before flipping you around and doing the same for your mouth, until you smelled and tasted like him all over.

But it was always a no. 

Until today.

You were going to surprise your boyfriend.

After a long day of bus rides, shopping carts, and paint swatches, you finally kicked your snowy boots off.

“Gonna bathe,” Sukuna grunted, dropping the bags by the door.

You took off your coat, hanging it up before rubbing your frozen hands together. Fuck, it was frigid out.

Your boyfriend padded to the stairs, pausing on the second step. “You coming, or what?” 

Heat flooded your navel, warming your core and sending delicious sparks to where you were full.

You rushed to catch up with him, letting Sukuna pull you upstairs to the bathroom. He made quick work of plugging the drain and turning on the hot water, even as you draped yourself over his back to kiss at his nape.

With a grunt, he stood, shaking you off as he removed his shirt unceremoniously.

Your cold fingers itched to feel on him; those plush pecs were always a hundred degrees, and nothing sounded better at the moment than two handfuls of tit and a nice defrosting.

A white shirt flew at you, whipping your side playfully.

“Don’t even fucking think about it, brat.”

You pouted.

He didn’t budge, keeping his distance as he dropped his sweats and boxers.

Even soft, he was huge.

Fuck.

The plug shifted minutely inside you as you clenched and unclenched around it.

Sukuna made a point of staying out of reach as he rummaged in the spacious bathroom for things to put in the tub– those fizzy balls, the sud-making stuff, the salt– you had trained him well. He put products on the lip of the tub, testing the temperature of the water on the inside of his wrist. All the while, he paid you no mind.

Well, two could play that game.

You slipped out of your shirt, making quick work of your underlayers, before sliding off your bottoms. Turned away from him, you were sure to make a little noise as you slid off your underwear, bent to show off the pretty gem between your cheeks.

It took one– two– three look-backs for the image to click in Sukuna’s head.

You had never seen him move faster.

Hands were on your flesh before you could process what was happening.

Knelt behind you, your boyfriend's hands pried your asscheeks apart, practically nosing at the plug inside you.

“Fuck.”

Your partner was by no means expressive or good with his words– but this?

You could hear a pin drop as he stared, flesh of your bottom heating under his intense gaze.

You snuck a look back, shaking your ass in his face just a little.

If Sukuna was any less hypnotized, he would’ve given you a nice spanking for being a tease.

But now, almost mouth to mouth with your sweet hole, he couldn’t do anything but breathe heavily through his nose.

If he didn’t focus on breathing, he was certain he’d pass away on the spot.

“You like?”

If his blown pupils weren’t enough of an indication, his cock– now half-mast and quickly filling– told you all you needed to know.

“Wanna take it out?”

Sukuna swallowed, throat like sandpaper as he nodded.

Thick fingers gripped at the polished edges of the metal plug, giving a slow tug.

You were tight.

As fuck.

As his fingers stilled, the plug slipped right back in, eliciting a little whine.

From who? Sukuna couldn’t tell.

“Harder, ‘kuna– you won’t break me.” You braced yourself on the marble counter, bent and arched.

With a more forceful tug, the plug slipped out all at once, leaving your pretty hole fluttering around nothing.

Wet warmth flooded your ass.

“Sukuna!”

You jumped, flinching forward to escape his tongue.

Big hot hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his face.

“Haven’t shaved… don’t do that–”

“Don’t care.” It was muffled, tongue working deep inside your tight hole. 

Fingertips dug into the meat of your ass as he feasted, devouring the copious amount of sweet lubricant inside you. 

Replacing it with his mark; his thick spit.

You groaned, head dropping onto the counter as your neglected front got wetter.

Just as quickly as it started, he was pulling away.

“Bath time?” You blinked, trying to still the spinning of your head as you looked back at your boyfriend.

Sukuna had never looked so fucked.

His cheeks were a vibrant rose, matching the flush of his dripping cock. A cock he was furiously fisting as he stood.

Sukuna’s blunt tip prodded at your hole, which graciously parted at the prospect of something fat to fill it right back up.

“Fuuuuuck.”

Sukuna rocked forward slowly, girthy cock stretching you deliciously. The ache shot through your body, nipples hardening and mouth parting at the feel.

A cry– high and whiny– escaped your big boyfriend’s throat.

You did it.

You finally broke him.

Plush arms wrapped snug around your waist as Sukuna draped himself over your back, fucking into your ass unforgivingly. He punched the air out of your lungs with each thrust, tip bullying your insides in a way that had you dripping all over the floor.

“Fuck– tight. So fucking tight.” Although it was pressed up against your ear, he was talking to himself, all growled nonsense. “Need this ass. Need to mark this fuckhole so fucking good.”

You pressed back against him, grinding on his veiny cock as he worked it deep in your tummy. One big hand smacked against the meat of your rump, prying open your cheeks to seat himself further inside.

With an iron grip on the fat of your bottom (one that was sure to leave finger-shaped bruises the next morning), he rammed into you. His leaking head prodded at your insides in a way that had your stomach bulging with each thrust– something he ran a possessive hand over, putting pressure on your lower abdomen.

Each hump had stars exploding behind closed eyelids, toes curling against the cold bathroom tile as he practically lifted you onto the counter with his forceful movements.

The coil between your legs wound, thighs tensing as Sukuna nibbled at your earlobe; you knew it was taking everything in him to not bear into your shoulder, to not draw blood.

“Gonna stuff you so fucking full.”

Whether it was the grunted way he said it or the way he ground deep inside, you were cumming. Your release, fucked out from between trembling thighs, splattered all over the white bathroom tile.

The way you bore down on him had Sukuna tumbling off the precipice right after you. The rocking of his pretty dick stuttered as thick milky cum flooded your hole. He fucked it into you shallowly, rubbing the tip of his cock over the smooth flesh of your tummy.

You had never felt so warm.

So much for freezing over.

Oh, fuck– the bath.

“Sukuna!”

Your boyfriend, pliant against your back, could only murmur praises into your neck as you squirmed.

“The water!”

“Fuck the bath.”

“You came inside– I gotta–”

“Don’t gotta do nothing. You’re perfect.”

In the end, with a little wrangling and some praise, you managed to wrestle Ryomen Sukuna into the bath.

Big hands massaged the tense muscle of your shoulders, then down your arms, as warm bubblegum pink water pooled around your bodies. Resting back onto his firm chest, you allowed your eyes to shut, groaning happily as he worked out a knot with practiced fingertips.

Gentle lips pressed a feather-soft kiss to the top of your head, then the side of your neck.

“Thank you…”

It was soft, barely there– but in the otherwise silent bathroom, it was clear as day.

“I love you.”

Your boyfriend was hard to surprise.

But he always managed to surprise you.

banners by @strangergraphics!

[signofspeed]

Hi love! I was wondering you’d be able to write a Lando fix where his gf got her period early and she’s really not feeling well so he’s super worried… definitely not inspired by a recent personal experience lmao :))

──── ⭑

The sun was dipping below the horizon when Lando let himself into the apartment, the comforting click of the door signaling his return. Normally, the space felt alive when he came home—your presence a quiet but palpable energy that greeted him like warmth on a cold day. Today, though, something was missing.

He set down the groceries, frowning slightly. The stillness in the air made his chest tighten. Your slippers were by the door, your jacket tossed over the back of a chair, but the usual sounds—music playing softly, or even the occasional clatter from the kitchen—weren’t there.

“Love?” he called out, his voice breaking the silence as he slipped off his shoes.

There was no response.

He found you in the bedroom, curled up beneath the duvet, your knees tucked to your chest. The dim light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face, pale and drawn, your usually bright eyes dull and half-lidded. The sight stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey,” he said softly, his worry sharpening as he approached the bed. He crouched down by the side, studying your face. “You okay?”

You blinked slowly, trying to focus on him, but even that small movement seemed to drain your energy. “It’s just my period,” you murmured, your voice scratchy and quiet.

“Your period?” His brow furrowed. “It’s not supposed to hurt this much, is it?”

You gave him a weak shrug, your face contorting as another wave of cramps hit you. “Sometimes it does. It just… came early, and I wasn’t ready for it.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting to the tension in your curled frame, the way your hands pressed against your stomach like you were trying to hold yourself together.

“Stay here,” he said finally, his voice calm but firm.

He disappeared into the bathroom, rummaging through cabinets until he found the heating pad he vaguely remembered buying with you months ago. Plugging it in by the bed, he slid it under the covers and positioned it against your stomach. The warmth began to seep into your skin almost immediately, and a small sigh escaped your lips.

“Better?” he asked quietly, sitting down beside you.

You nodded, a hint of relief easing your features. “A bit. Thanks.”

But he wasn’t done. He slipped out of the room again, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers. “Here,” he said, holding them out to you.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing against his as you took them. “You don’t have to fuss, Lando,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not fussing,” he replied, his tone light but steady. “I just hate seeing you like this.”

You took the medicine, the water cooling your parched throat. He sat beside you while you drank, his hand finding yours under the covers. His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, a quiet reassurance that he was there.

“I’m going to make you something to eat,” he said after a while, standing up.

“Lando—”

“Don’t argue,” he interrupted gently. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

You shook your head. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before heading to the kitchen.

The scent of soup wafted through the apartment soon after, the quiet clink of dishes oddly soothing in your haze. When he returned, he carried a tray with a steaming bowl, a mug of tea, and a small plate of crackers.

“You’re spoiling me,” you murmured, managing a faint smile as he set the tray down and helped you sit up against the pillows.

“Not spoiling,” he said, settling beside you and watching as you took a tentative sip of the soup. “Just taking care of you.”

You leaned against him after you finished, the warmth of his body a comfort that rivaled the heating pad. He shifted slightly, adjusting the blankets around you.

“Better?” he asked again, his voice soft.

You nodded, your head resting on his shoulder. “Much.”

He didn’t say anything, but his hand found yours again, holding it firmly, as if to remind you he wasn’t going anywhere.

[wearysparrows]

I (Almost) Shot You Down

Summary: A chance encounter with Sylus snowballs something much larger, and you're pushed even deeper into the depths of his world -- whether you like it or not.

Chapter 1: A pillar of Salt

After being forced on leave from the Hunter's Association, you try to find respite outside of the safety of your apartment. By chance, you see Sylus engaged with someone else. You nearly take his head for it -- but he gets his way, in the end.

CW (18+): Sylus/reader, no use of ' Y/N,' Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Guns, MC is chronically depressed and exhausted, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Gambling, Reader is MC, AFAB reader is implied but no pronouns are used

A/N: This is my long, ongoing work that is still being updated. There are many more chapters up on ao3, and I'm working on getting them to tumblr. They're also being edited and improved from their original postings, so if you've read it before, there may be some changes as I upload!

You had finally begrudgingly accepted a few days off from your work with the Hunter’s Association, at the behest of your primary care physician (citing your declining physical health), your boss (citing your declining work performance), and your work partner (citing your declining mental health). The aforementioned meddlers had teamed up in an effort to finally tear you away from hunting, and would not allow you to return, despite your valiant attempts at protest. Work was your escape – from yourself, from the reality of your life, from your relationships – and everything in between. Hunting never changed, and you only got better at it. 

Your blatant disregard for yourself had failed to continue to go unnoticed by those who cared about you, though. Now, here you were, sitting in your empty apartment with only the all encompassing silence to keep you company. Left alone with your thoughts. Again. You hadn’t bothered to kick the lights on. Only the sound of the heater clicking filled the otherwise empty air around you. Your mind went where it always did, then. That day. No bodies were ever recovered. You didn’t even have something to bury. Caleb’s dog tags had found their way into your hands at some point, and you gazed at them listlessly in your palm. You could still feel the heat from the residual fires of the explosion radiating off of the metal. The warmth of his hand in yours. It was all you had left to prove he ever really existed.

You desperately needed to get out of the house. Anything was better than being here, and perhaps you would accidentally run into some wanderers while the ghost of you made its way about Linkon city. Throwing yourself at hordes of wanderers was the only coping mechanism that had shown any signs of taking your mind off of things. Sort of. With this scheme in mind, you quickly dressed yourself in your usual, strapping your gun to your thigh, concealing its comforting weight under your coat. It wasn’t like you were on forced bedrest, so a walk wouldn’t hurt, right? You stashed Caleb’s tags in your nightstand drawer, returning them to their safe place. You imagined that someday, they’d burn a hole in that wood, and you’d come back to nothing at all.

You left your apartment with no particular aim in mind, being sure to lock the door behind you. The biometric lock shifted into place with a soft whirr behind you. You may have been utterly exhausted, but you were never complacent. The weather outside wasn’t ideal for a walk, and the wind buffeted your hair about your face, and bit at your skin, as if you were offending it with your mere presence outside. Your eyes watered, protesting the assaults by the air. You opted to ignore these sensations, and continued to walk in what you thought was the direction of the nearby shopping district. Your appetite had long since left you – months ago now – but you knew you could find a small measure of pleasure in a cup of coffee on a day like today. 

After many twists and turns, your weary feet led you to an area you weren’t wholly familiar with. Maybe it was new? This was more upscale than your usual, you realized – your Hunter’s salary was decent enough, but definitely not this decent. Cobblestone that looked suspiciously new made the click of your boot-heels echo loudly off of your surroundings. You scrutinized the buildings before you, searching for somewhere that your presence would not offend, where you could also acquire what you were after. Everything was just a touch too upscale, too unwelcoming. All of the storefronts blurred into one image, one place where you weren’t welcomed. You chased thoughts from that same morning out of your mind that threatened to break through as you were forced into a moment of mental silence, and the still of the air and the lack of bustle kept returning you to reality. The last place you wanted to be. 

After a time of aimless searching, you spied a place that looked acceptable. It was smaller than the other establishments, tucked away conservatively into an alley, lit by warm sconces along either side. Unlike the other buildings, it was painted in a warm, sandy beige. You couldn't tell much else about it from the outside, other than that the interior was dimly lit. The imagery of the cup of coffee on the signage was enough to guide your way. You pulled open the heavy glass door, and half expected it to be partially empty on the inside, but you had no such luck. It was bustling, but warm as a result, and you realized how cold you had been before you had stepped in. The change in temperature almost immediately made you feel too hot in your coat.

The patronage was definitely outside of your tax bracket. The patronage was clad in an array of expensive looking furs and fabrics, all speaking to each other in the lowest of dulcet tones. You felt their eyes on you, but disregarded them. It wasn’t as if you weren’t allowed to be here, regardless of how out of place you may have looked. Which, you thought, wasn’t that much. You might not have been born into high snob-society, but you took good care of your looks. Your fingers were still moving slowly in protest to the inclement weather as you fished your wallet from your coat pocket, stepping towards the counter with the intention to order. You hardly glanced at the menu. You didn’t even have a drink in mind. Just something as a distraction. Liquid, hot enough to burn your tongue. A sensation to chase the thoughts away.

This course of action was quickly interrupted, however. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of a shock of white hair on someone who seemed to tower over the rest of the people in the room, even while sitting. Clad in blacks and velvet reds, he both fit in perfectly and stood out starkly all at once. He was talking to someone else you couldn't see in a hushed tone.

Sylus?

Surely not. Why would he even be here, of all places? Sure, it was nice, but not places-Sylus-frequented nice. Or at least, the places you imagined he frequented. You still didn’t have a full idea of all of the things Sylus did with his free time. Short of that, what was he doing cavorting about in Linkon in public? Your eyes bored holes into the back of his head, trying to catch wind of what could have possibly brought him to a place like this. You side stepped into a corner table that allowed you to get a better look at who he was speaking with.

A woman?

This clearly wasn’t just any woman, either. A cascade of elaborately curled blonde hair fell down her back in elegant waves, and a deep red dress clung to her like a second skin, outlining her perfectly against Sylus’s dark form. A small nose, and full lips. Long, dark lashes. She was saying something to him, but you couldn’t make out the words in the den of the conversations from the other patrons. He laughed in response to her words, and leaned closer to her. She was smiling at him, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. Her other hand touched his shoulder.

Stones stacked neatly in your stomach as you watched them. You felt like a voyeur. They looked exquisite together – it was undeniable. She was even wearing the perfect color of red. It looked as if she had exsanguinated someone and dyed the dress in their blood – a perfect match for Sylus. Everything else – everyone –  in the room paled in comparison. Sylus was still smiling at her, full of charm. You thought about what Zayne had said to you before forcing you to take time off. 

You look like you’re two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Well, his observation was more astute than he realized, clearly. You certainly felt that way now, in light of the spectacle that was playing out before you. Maybe only one step away. Half a step. You told yourself this was none of your business, that you should just quietly take your leave before he noticed you had ever been here. There was no reason for him to take notice of you while he was attending to his private matters. You were just passing through his life. Brushing through his fingertips. Never actually touching him in any way that mattered. Physically, mentally, spiritually. 

You decided you needed to leave. Urgently. Despite telling yourself staring down the couple wasn’t bothering you because there was nothing between you and Sylus anyway and what the hell was your problem, you had begun to feel nauseated. You clutched your arm about your midsection, and hurriedly peeled yourself out of your seat. Every one of your muscles protested at the movement, reminding you that you should be at home right now. On forced bedrest, probably. 

That just wasn’t in the cards. You weren’t sure you had a hand to play at all. You silently cursed the great dealer in the sky.

You made a beeline for the door, but not before you took one final glance at Sylus and his companion. Even if you were to turn into a pillar of salt for looking back, you just needed one more glimpse. To satiate your curiosity. But luck wasn’t on your side (when was it ever?), because you met Sylus’s eye as you looked, as well as those of the beautiful woman. You saw surprise pass over his features, and thought you saw his lips part as if he were going to say something. The woman peered back at you curiously. You cast your eyes away from the bewitching image before you. 

You could feel all the water being sucked from each of the cells in your body, one by one. You would shrivel up on the spot, and leave behind only the base impression of yourself in the wake of your shame. Hopefully, your rotten yearning soul would be freed to roam elsewhere, far from here, in this place you didn’t belong.

Ah, take me, O salt pillar!

There were no such mercies in this life, of course. You left the cafe as quickly as your feet would allow. The glass door slammed behind you. You were running now, for reasons you couldn’t (didn’t want to) quantify. It wasn’t as if he was chasing after you, coming to explain that no, she’s just a friend, just someone I work with, don't worry.  Faster you went, the need to see the comforting outline of your apartment against the sky becoming more desperate by the moment. Fortunately, the run home was certainly shorter than the walk to the cafe, and the image you so desired to see appeared before you, blessedly. 

Only then did you allow yourself a moment to rest. Your lungs screamed in protest at your outburst, and you sucked in great mouthfuls of air, trying to forcibly still your rapidly beating heart. It was always betraying you in one way or another, even now. You bent over, your hands on your knees, and took a moment to collect yourself. You were grateful no one had been around to see this display, from you leaving your apartment, to running away from a damn coffee shop empty-handed. You curled a fist in your hair, willing it out of your face as you righted yourself. A few stray strands came away in your fingers. That had been happening more and more often, as of late.

The walk up the stairs was nothing else if not excruciating, and you thanked even your unluckiest stars that Xaiver didn’t seem to be home from work yet to see the unfortunate events of your life play out as they were. You stumbled into your apartment – being sure to lock the door behind you, as always. 

The safety of your home did good work to soothe your nerves, a stark contrast to the horrid occurrence in the cafe. You shrugged into something more comfortable: a camisole and a pair of soft, cotton pajama shorts. This set had yet to let you down in the comfort department. Even as you changed, the events played over and over through your mind, and you burned with the embarrassment of it all. Sylus’s smile at that woman, his laughter. The way his gaze had twisted into something else entirely when he saw you. Your nausea refused to calm. Your mouth kept filling with too much saliva, over and over.

Why did you have to run away, of all things? You had left like a petulant child who was unable to cope with the sight before them, instead retreating to your small corner of safety in the world. 

Wry thoughts came to you. This is what I get for taking a day off. You knew you had been wrong to do so. Your prophecy was always fulfilling itself. Take that, Dr. Zayne. 

Still, you were yet unwilling to heed the siren’s call of your bed, despite the increasing intensity of its song. You flopped onto the couch instead with a sigh, the air entering and leaving your lungs easier now. You longed to be rid of the image of Sylus entangled with someone else, and decided you needed to busy your hands with something to scrub the thoughts from your mind. 

As a result of not taking nearly any days off lately, you were definitely behind on the maintenance of your weapons. It technically wasn’t work. It was only related to work. You bent over from your position on the couch, and peered underneath it. Here was where your smallest gun safe lived. Perhaps not the most ideal place for it – but it wasn’t as if you had company over often, anyway. Save for Xavier, your steady and ever-reliable partner. And more recently, Sylus, who you hadn’t yet found an accurate definition for. His presence was usually accentuated by some excuse to intrude on your space.

You unlocked the safe. It was an old-school version, not biometric like the newer models. Pure, vintage analog goodness. A gift from Grandma when you had entered the Hunter’s Association. It came open with a soft, satisfying click. Only two weapons were usually inside – your Hunter’s issue handgun, old faithful. You returned it to its rightful place, now, as it had dutifully attended the cafe fiasco with you. With it was a piece that had forced itself into your possession – or rather, Sylus had forced it into your possession. You eyed the offending object, picking it up gingerly and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. It was considerably heavier than your standard issue. It had thunked onto the glass of the table, as if it were moderately offended to be there. Did even his gifts take on aspects of his personality? His influence seemed to know no bounds, so nothing would surprise you at this point. He certainly had a penchant for creating objects with personalities, if Mephisto was any measure.

This gun wasn’t the only firearm Sylus had thrust upon you. A gift, he had said. You weren’t wholly unconvinced he wasn’t using your house as his millionth-whatever-armory. You had accrued so many weapons that you had to acquire a secondary safe, the hulking mass of which sat in your bedroom forebodingly. It held all of the other “gifts” inside, tucked safely away in the darkness, waiting to be used for their dark purpose. You hid it underneath a spare sheet. The second safe was another gift from Sylus. It reminded you of him, in a way – it imposed its presence in your house: tall, cold, stark, and white. It didn’t fit here at all. And it was full of things meant to rend flesh from flesh, flesh from bone. Life from this plane into the next. You thought about the first time you met Sylus, and how he had obliterated a man from existence before your eyes with his evol. There hadn’t been so much as an ounce of recognition in his eyes for the life he had taken. The memory made your nausea threaten to return to you.

Your eyes came back into focus on the gun in front of you. You liked guns, and as much as you hated to admit it, this one was no exception. It was a beautiful article – a faithful reproduction of a vintage Colt 1911.  A classic, by anyone’s measure. It was a forty-five caliber, with an eight-plus-one round capacity. The recoil of your Hunter’s association issue paled into comparison to this, and it affected your accuracy negatively. You had recently replaced its bullets – standard full metal jackets – with hollow point rounds. Higher accuracy, higher damage. You planned to test this on the next Wanderer who was unlucky enough to be at the other end of your barrel. Or the next man. Those had only recently come into your sights, as a result of your exploits – at the request of Sylus. He had never actually asked you to gun a living person down, though. You weren’t sure you were even capable of doing so. Or if he would ask. 

The wood grip was custom engraved with your name, and encrusted with jewels, courtesy of him. Naturally. The body was scrubbed of any serial number. Naturally.

Ugh. 

You placed it on your knees, with the intention to take it apart to clean and maintain it. You intended to add a suppressor, which you had purchased with your own money. Not a gift from Sylus. Small victories.

Just as you began to take the weapon apart, you caught a sound. There was a sort of shuffling at your door, as if someone were standing behind it. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, prickling. Your intuition told you that whatever was behind it was something to be feared. You loaded the spare magazine of hollow points into the piece with a soft click. You flicked the safety off. Your hands had already begun to sweat.

You pointed the gun at the door. It was too heavy in your hands. 

Whoever was behind the door was making quick work of the lock, despite it necessitating your biometric data to unlatch. 

What if it was the same people who had taken the lives of Caleb and Gran? Had they finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse, and come for you?

You held your breath to steady yourself. The extension of Sylus’s violence wavered back and forth in your grip. The door came open at a painfully slow pace, and a large figure in black slipped through. You cocked back the hammer, which had previously given you difficulty. Now adrenaline bolstered even the strength in your fingertips, any previous weakness forgotten. The figure turned, closing the door behind him. Upon seeing you on your makeshift gunner’s perch on the back of the couch, he raised his hands in surrender, showing you the calloused tan of his palms. One of his hands was nearly the size of your head.

“Sylus?”

His eyebrows had initially shot up in surprise at your current posture, but he quickly relaxed his face into that of his usual mask of easy confidence. You hated that about him, his composure. You adored it, too. He couldn’t even bother to look afraid at the end of a gun. The gun he gave you. You exhaled the breath you had been holding through your nose.

“Expecting someone else?” 

He sounded pleased, of all things. You suddenly felt very exposed, in nothing but your camisole and shorts. Despite the gun in your hands, it was as if you were at the other end of his. Your head felt hot. Your forearms began to protest at the weight of the weapon. You blinked new wetness into dry eyes. 

“Why the fuck are you breaking into my house?” 

You didn’t lower the gun. You didn’t want to.  It wasn’t as if it was the first time you two had ended up like this. You, trying to kill him. Him, accepting your choice. Probably not the last, either. You were angry with him – not for breaking in, no. Not for his casual nonchalance in the face of death (could he even die?), not for his disregard for your poweress as an opponent. But for his date with someone else. Someone who was decidedly not you. The feeling bubbled up, stronger and stronger until it was burning you from the inside out. Shame accompanied it, hand in hand.

Of course, you had no real justification for this feeling. You and Sylus weren’t dating, as you needed to remind yourself more and more frequently. You weren’t even sure you could call your relationship friendly – it was somewhere in the bizarre stage of you wanting him, and him accepting your every move with grace. He took you for all you were in stride, met you for all your whims, and you trailed after his every word. You had something he wanted – what it was, you were never quite sure. It changed with his tides. You couldn’t pry it from him. Questions were only answered with more questions, so you had given up on asking them. Sylus’s response to your question cut through your thoughts. His voice was soft, imporing. 

“You didn’t answer my texts or calls. I was knocking for a while, too, but there was no answer. With the way you left, I came to make sure.” 

Make sure of what?

You hadn’t heard any knocking. You also hadn’t checked your phone.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and they came in a slow, steady stream into your consciousness. You thought about the first time you had shot him. How his blood erupted from his chest in hot streams. It stained your hands as you tried desperately to stop his bleeding, pressing against the pulse of the open wound. When you thought you had taken his life. When he had pressed the trigger for you. When he didn’t die. The heat of him was still there, under your palms. It wouldn’t wash off. He was under your skin.

“I’m glad you like the gift, by the way.”

He took a step towards you as he spoke. You adjusted your grip. He was still in your sights. Your breath came quick, your mouth dry. You licked your lips, cracked from worrying your teeth on them so often lately. You thought about the woman and Sylus. Together. The red dress. Sylus’s blood. His laugh, for someone else. Not you.

“You’re welcome to take my life again,” he murmured soothingly, “But it might disturb the neighbors. Particularly the one downstairs. Of course, I’m willing to help you deal with the aftermath. Either way.” 

He still had his hands raised in submission. The image of it was practically ridiculous. This wasn’t a posture that Sylus took up under any other circumstance. You knew it was all a show for your benefit, and that you were no match for him, despite your own prowess. Something about his unrelenting acceptance of his own death at your hands (again) dragged you out of your stupor by your achilles heel. You lowered the gun. Sylus took the opportunity to stride forward, and quickly slipped it from your hands with his own. You let him. His touch lingered just a moment too long, fingers pressed to yours. He was warm. Too warm for someone who had just been out in the cold. You resisted the urge to take his hand. His evol materialized, and quickly turned the safety on, ejecting the magazine. It returned the gun to the safe, shutting it away as if it had never happened. The red cloud disappeared as quickly as it came, as if it never were at all. The process took no more than a few seconds of silence between the two of you.

“You were going to modify it?” He asked, nonchalant. As if you hadn’t just been almost making an attempt on his life. He glanced at the suppressor, now cold and lonely on the coffee table.

“Yeah. I was going to...add a suppressor.”

You could hear the flat affect in your voice. It reflected how drained you were beginning to feel by all of this, on top of everything else. Your shoulders sagged under the weight of it.

What the fuck was this conversation, actually? 

Sylus nodded, still managing to look pleased with the situation. You felt your life force actively draining from you as the seconds ticked by, as if you were the one who had almost been shot. His gaze shackled you in place, still. The sterling of his hair and the garnet of his eyes were just as enticing as ever. Radically out of place in your modest apartment. 

“Can I help you down?”

His soft inquiry brought to your attention that you were still perched with one foot up on the back of the couch, poised to kill him. Your hands were now very much without the gun. Nothing connected you to the world below you concretely, anymore. Except him. He was standing before you with an offered hand. At some point during your conversation, he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing the rippling capability of the muscle of his forearms. It enticed you without voice. You took his outstretched hand, wordlessly. To your surprise, he pulled you over the back of the couch and towards him, catching you like you were nothing, his free hand supporting your waist. You landed softly on your feet in front of him, still in his arms, hand in his own. For a moment, the posture reminded you of how you had danced with him at the auction. You looked up at him, he down at you. His expression was inscrutable, save for a little smile. You were close enough to see the soft sweep of his eyelashes. The circles under his eyes. Proud nose and soft lips. You pulled away, hugging your arms to yourself. It was much colder for his lack of touch. His hands hovered at the place where he had held for a moment, and then fell back to his sides.

“What has you so wound up? I tried to call out to you this morning, but you bolted before I could greet you.” 

Sylus had his head cocked at you now, as if the answer you had for him was something very simple. He adjusted one of his sleeve garters. You averted your gaze, studying a now very interesting speck of dust on your floor. You wanted to put all of this behind you, to forget it had ever happened. You would have never brought it up had he never shown his face. But he had to be here, asking questions. Making you lie to him even more than you already did. You had never been a liar until you spent time with him. You tried to keep your tone level as you spoke.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” 

Even saying it made your insides crawl. You spat the last word out with more venom that you had intended. Your lower intestine was trying to creep up to your diaphragm, and seemed to be succeeding. Sylus raised an eyebrow in your direction.

“Date?”

 He crossed his arms over his chest. The movement made his biceps all the more prominent. He sounded puzzled, and was scrutinizing you, now. You couldn’t comprehend what was so hard to understand about all of this. You sighed, despite your best attempts to keep your emotions from bleeding through your cracks.

“Yes, date. What would you have me do? Come up and introduce myself while you’re clearly in the middle of something?”

You were aware you were completely out of line here. None of this was any of your concern in the first place. You had stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. Sylus had, quite literally, no obligation to you whatsoever. Certainly not to explain himself, or who he chose to spend his time with. You wanted to shrink and disappear into the floorboards. Perhaps you could seep through the cracks like smoke, and escape this confrontation all together. But you didn’t have that kind of power – unless Sylus was with you, holding you in his arms.

He had been quiet for a time. He started again.

“The woman I was with today is one of my contacts in Linkon. She helps me smuggle things in and out when I can’t attend to them personally. I’ve been working on...procuring something. For you.” He cleared his throat a little, as if he had just told you an embarrassing secret. 

You gawked at him. He was still smiling at you. His eyes met yours. Seeing everything you didn’t want him to see. He didn’t even need to use the protocore in his right eye. It was all bared to him, regardless.

“And yes,” he continued,

“I would have been very pleased to introduce you. You only let me show you off every so often – I wanted to seize the opportunity by the horns.”

There were too many things you didn’t understand. How he could move about Linkon so nonchalantly. How he could be having conversations about smuggling in an upscale Linkon cafe. How the man before you, who gained all of his income from untold numbers of criminal activities, was the same who willingly spent his free time with you playing Kitty Cards and screwing around in the arcade. It was too much. You turned from him, and instead returned to the safety of the couch. You sat on it, grounding yourself with the feeling of your own belongings. You heard him follow after you. His shoes were still on, but you didn’t have the heart to scold him for his disregard for your floor's cleanliness.  He sat next to you. The couch sunk under his greater weight, and caused you to slip a little closer to him on the furniture. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Sylus.”

It was all you could say. Better to keep the respectable distance between you just as it was. Any further and you wouldn't be able to keep up this facade around him anymore. He kept pulling at your threads, trying to reveal your insides. 

“No one owes anyone anything. But I wanted to tell you. Besides,” you felt his evol touch your hand, ever so gently. It was as if he was holding it without actually holding it. The little red extension of himself curled around your fingers playfully. You remembered how it had choked and shackled you in the past. Now it sat in your lap like a beloved pet, curling about your knees and fingertips. It’s usual crackling intensity was gone, now only a light, pleasant buzz against your skin. You focused on the sensation. It was warm, like him.

"Here I was, excited to think that you were going to shoot me because you thought you saw me out with someone else. I’m a little disappointed that wasn’t the reason.”

He was chuckling, like what just occurred had amused him. Something to spice up the usual banal repetition of his everyday life. You felt yourself deflating. There was no more hot air left inside – just the residual exhaustion, both emotionally and physically. You found yourself wishing, again, that you hadn’t taken a day off. If you hadn’t, Sylus wouldn’t have broken into your apartment to explain he wasn’t out with someone else. To you. The person he was also decidedly Not With. You fiddled with his evol in your lap. You had been around him often enough to know this teasing was his way of trying to cheer you up – to take your mind somewhere else besides exhausted and angry and I want to leave this plane of existence.

“I’ll be sure to follow through with it next time.” 

There was no real bite to your words – to your ears, you only sounded exactly as you felt. Like you were threatening the man you had feelings for who did not return them, yet still refused to leave you alone. A plaything for his own amusements. Sylus merely nodded. His evol had since made its way to the drawstrings of your shorts, and it was tying them in various intricate knots, there. You wondered at it. It seemed to have a mind of its own – but you were certain that this, too, was another idle whim of his.

“I’m looking forward to it, then.” 

His statement was quiet, nearly a sigh of pleasure. The back of your neck and ears burned in tandem. You examined the knots that were now likely forever tied into your poor drawstring. 

What the fuck kind of knots even were these?

You pointedly ignored the minor arousal that threatened to arise at this.

“There’s something wrong with your brain. Seriously.” 

“It takes a thief to catch a thief, my dove.” You could hear the smile in his words as he spoke.

“You have a few days off, right?” He was rolling the previously abandoned suppressor around in his fingers, examining it. You swore he had somehow gotten closer to you on the small couch – with the way his legs were spread, his knee was just barely touching yours. 

“Yeah. Wait, how did you know?”

He ignored your question. As he almost always did, as it suited him. Instead, he responded with another question of his own.

“Why don’t you come back with me to the N109 zone? You can rest there, instead of here. Or, we can go out. Whatever you’d like.”

You were about to deny him, but his voice took on a more serious tone as he continued to speak.

“This place is going to claim your life if you don’t leave it every once in a while.”

You look two steps away from death. Take a few days off.

Why was everyone in your life so thoroughly convinced of your impending collapse? Even your criminal mastermind was in on it. You scrunched Sylus’s evol up in your hands. It wiggled, protesting your treatment in your fingers, but not dissipating. You wondered if he could feel your touch through it. If he could feel it when he killed. Maybe you did need to leave – maybe this place was killing you. If it wasn’t Wanderers, it would be your own disregard for yourself. Maybe the air was forever tainted by the death of your family, and the miasma would never quite leave your lungs. Maybe running away was the best thing to do. Sylus was giving you an out – at least for a little while. Maybe there were strings attached. There had to be, without a shadow of a doubt.  He was silent while you mulled it over. You expected him to comment on your lack of response, but he said nothing.

Irritatingly patient.

You sighed. You turned to Sylus.

“Fine. But I only have a few days. Give me a few minutes to pack my things.”

Sylus had the good grace to look surprised at how easily you had agreed to his suggestion, but it quickly turned into a look of barely concealed smug satisfaction. His evol vanished from your grip, and you found yourself missing its comforting touch.

“You technically don’t need to pack anything. I have everything you could possibly need at the base. Clothes, food, weapons, shampoo, conditioner…the kinds you like.” He trailed off. You couldn’t tell how serious he was being, what with the expression he was serving you. You shot him a look.

He raised his hands, showing you his palms, submitting once again. 

“Like I said. Give me a minute to pack my things.”

Sylus leaned back on the couch, relenting. He dropped his hands.

True to your word, gathering your things for a trip to the N109 zone took little time at all. It wasn’t that you were particularly Spartan with your assets – but rather that Sylus really did keep all of the things you needed around, and much more. Knowing you could trust him on this front made warmth creep to your face, and the cold began to seep from your bones. After changing, you returned to the living room with your bag, where Sylus was patiently awaiting your return. He was peering out your window. The sun hit him just right, and it illuminated his eyes with its beams. The red only intensified in the light, the color of blood only just exposed to air. You could have stared at the image of him forever. He always claimed to be unlucky, but it seemed to you as if every aspect of the world bowed to him. For someone who was so weak to its rays, he was lit brilliantly by the sun. He turned to you, squinting. Your eyes fell to your gun, which was in his hands. You recalled that he had definitely returned it to the safe, previously. He waved it at you, careful not to point the barrel in your direction.

“Don’t forget this.”

He stood as he spoke, and stepped toward you. His form loomed over you, and you felt him slip the gun into your thigh holster (where you had planned to put your standard issue) underneath your coat.

  Bastard. 

His hand lingered on your hip before he put it in his coat pocket. He smelled good. He was wearing something today that you couldn’t quite place. His natural scent was there, too. 

Rosemary? Figs? Cloves?

“Shall we?”

His voice cut through your mental musings on men’s fragrance notes. You nodded, following after him as he led you out of your apartment. You were sure to lock the door behind you. Again. His bike was waiting faithfully for you in the parking lot. Sylus slipped your helmet on for you (why did he even have a second helmet on him today in the first place?), making sure your hair was tucked neatly away behind your neck. After repeating the action on himself, he kicked the stand out from under his bike, and you got on behind him. You always had no choice but to wrap your arms around him when you rode. You wondered how it made him feel – or if he felt anything about the contact at all. His back was broad, solid, and warm underneath your touch. You swore you could feel his muscles ripple underneath you, even with the barrier of his clothing between you. You squeezed him a little tighter as he began to drive. Even through your jacket, the air nipped at you for your speed. As he pressed the bike harder, you felt something tickle around your waist. You peeked down as best you could through the visor of your helmet. Sylus’s evol was keeping you neatly attached to him, as if your arms weren’t enough. The inside of your helmet suddenly felt hotter. You tried not to think about why he did the things he did. Sylus offered no acknowledgement or explanation for any of this. As always.

The bike sped on to the N109 zone, eager to return to where it belonged.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION IV.

(a/n: Hey everybody! Really sorry for not updating this week's been VERY hectic, but im back and ready to post new eps again 🙏 thanxx for your support ❤️)

WARNING!-none

wc: 1.1 k words

ALSO: tags-@ttheggrimrreaper ❤️ bear with me, ur episode is coming i swear

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…11, Isagi Yoichi."

The icon of an unknown person appeared on the screens. Looking closely, you tried to recall if you had ever heard of him during your training, before realising you didn’t interact with the male species for months so you definitely can’t remember the boy.

‘Maybe someone mentioned him a few weeks ago?’

Heading to the assigned room and getting there, Anri immediately gave you a bunch of stuff while telling you about some of Ego’s newly adapted annoying habits. Minutes later, she finished her complaining and let you go you to find your new player.

Imagine being the manager of Isagi Yoichi, the heart of Blue Lock.

——————

Isagi Yoichi, with whom you immediately click moments after you first meet him, the conversations going surprisingly smooth. His attentive and kind nature made you much more talkative than usual, feeling lucky that you somehow managed to get a normal boy. The nightmares that tortured you for the past week, anxious about who you were gonna end up with were also nowhere to be found. Between the breaks of practice matches, Yoichi would always come to the benches, eager to continue your little chat from earlier, seemingly taking genuine interest in you. And when he had to go back to the field, you simply watched him in silence while quickly reading through his data sheet.

——————

•Isagi, who you notice that literally every day, during all the matches tends to think and analyze a lot, which surprised you a bit, didn’t expecting to get someone who actually thinks before he acts.

•In the first few days he would mostly keep his thoughts to himself and although he does share some of them regarding soccer with you, he still remains a mystery.

•Isagi, who has been really curious about you from the start, and because of that you two talked a lot. From telling him how you ended up in Blue Lock, to him being silly and secretly imitating some of his teammates for fun. He also shared his own goals and how he hoped to be a good player, so you wouldn’t have to deal with all his shit in the future.

•He's also the one who's been holding whichever team he’s been part of together since the beginning and has slowly but surely earned a reputation within the facility. That wasn’t the problem, but rather the fact that your player was known for his harsh words and slurs towards his opponents and for being a completely different person on the pitch instead of the usual respectful guy, making you worry a little.

•The cherry on top however is that he somehow always manages to piss off the biggest, most skilled, clearly not in the mood to be insulted type of players.

•Dealing with this is probably the hardest part of being his manager. Apart from that, you have a pretty normal, simple routine, compared to the others, because well…you don't have to do much other than the standard work schedule, since Isagi is just easy to deal with. He doesn’t break the rules, eats what he’s given and always gets up on time.

•This is usually how your days go until the unexpected U20 match announcement comes, which makes the boy much, much more motivated making you basically fight to be able to keep up with him. Your tasks suddenly also multiply, having to give more detailed reports to the boss, monitoring Yoichi’s food portions and supliments way too carefully all while trying to help him achieve the perfect build for the upcoming match, hoping he gets selected.

•Your secret stash of snacks that you keep hidden in your room specially for him is also prohibited to touch, knowing damn well if Ego or Anri notices the few more calories on his data list both of you will be punished.

“So no more sneaky sweets?”-he asked one night, to which you just nodded regretfully.

“Nooooooooo…”

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Isagi changes. A lot. You would say he has improved and currently still is at a frighteningly fast pace. From the very first match he plays with his ‘new’ team to way he thinks and acts is different. This probably earned him one of the best players title as of now.

•He recently also began to follow a stricter training plan, and although the few chocolate bars you secretly try to give him are reeeeaally tempting, he always rejects them, saying that when he feels like he deserves one, he will accept it, resulting in you having to eat all of them alone before they expire.

•Changing places, didn’t necessarily mean new teammates. Yet, the people in Blue Lock he was the closest with all chose different countries, only some of them going on the same path as Isagi.

•Fortunately, he had no problem finding new and old friends to hang out with, so you thought at least you didn’t have to worry about that. Wrong. You should have.

•Because although Isagi may have gotten along with the Japanese players, the Germans were different. First you thought, maybe it was because of his duality while playing, but it seemed like his mere existence was a problem for specifically 2 German people. They were extremely bothered by him, the murderous look in their eye every time, made you try to keep your player away from them as much as possible.

•Isagi changing meant your nightly routine had to be adjusted as well. Instead of an hour, you now sat with him in front of the big monitors for 2, carefully analyzing his movements every second, papers full of notes and comments to discuss later.

•He also gained immense popularity all over the world with his goal against the U20 that day, receiving comments and praises from fans on a daily basis with them saying how humble and good he is. Yet, despite all this, for some reason he’s need to get a compliment or praise only from you, rises drastically.

•“I’m with you all day, you know me best. I’m just simply curious about your opinion!”

•He, with whom you focus quite a bit on learning the basics of the German language, yet somehow the pronunciation, even the rules have no place in the boy’s puzzle anymore. Still, he tries hard because talking to Bastard München fans and mocking Michael Kaiser in his own native language seems so tempting.

•Over time, you guys became much closer to each other, and even though he has thought about asking you out on a date, he still doesn’t do it because he’s afraid that if things don’t go well, you’ll quit and he simply wouldn’t risk it. You’re the best manager and if necessary, he will continue to try and see you as a friend, as long as you’ll be by his side until the end of his journey.

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) little white lie !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [mark x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.8k w. cursing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

this christmas you were undoubtedly, royally fucked.

it had all started very innocently, a white lie to get your family off your back once and for all. but then it snowballed to create one big, ugly snowman to personally hunt you all through winter. it was because of him that you chewed at your nails nervously as you looked at the text that reflected on your screen, your cousin’s name adorning the top of the chat.

you should invite your bf to go christmas shopping with us! i'm sure k will be happy to have someone to talk to :)

fuck.

the text was nothing but friendly and well intended, there was just one tiny little problem. you did not have a boyfriend to invite. you tried to come up with an excuse, but you had unfortunately used every single valid thing that you could’ve thought of to get your nonexistent boyfriend off of all the family activities he was invited to.

“what are you making your fingers bleed for?” mark, your best friend, asked as he approached your body on the couch, holding two mugs of tea. once he placed them on the coffee table, he reached for your hand and moved it from your lips down to your lap as he always did to prevent you from harming yourself. 

“my cousin wants me to invite my boyfriend to celebrate christmas with my family” you groaned, your hands going up to rub at your eyes in frustration. 

mark’s eyebrows furrowed as he heard you speak “what boyfriend?”

and that’s when it downed on you, the fact that you had never told mark about your little white lie. you thought of ways to avoid the question, wracking your brain to find something to say other than “you actually, i've been lying to my family for months to get them off my back and they think you’re my very beloved and devoted boyfriend.” but you knew he wouldn’t leave it alone until he knew the truth, also, you had never been able to lie to mark.

“you” you muttered, face still behind your hands as you tried to pretend this wasn’t happening.

“huh?” mark asked incredulously, causing you to look from in between your fingers at his dumbfounded expression “come again?”

you took a deep breath before speaking again, finally moving your hands down and meeting his eyes. “a few months ago, at seollal i told my family i had a boyfriend because they wouldn’t stop pestering me about it and when they asked me who it was i couldn’t think of any other name but yours” 

mark ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the knowledge that his name was the first one to pop into your head when you had to make up a fake boyfriend, looking at you with wide eyes “dude! that's like almost a year ago! why didn't you tell me?”

“i know! but it wasn’t supposed to last this long or be this important, you had no reason to know” you explained, notably stressed as you ran a hand through your hair “i’m sorry, okay?”

“what on earth are you sorry about?” he questioned, even more confused than before.

“i shouldn’t have used you like that” you muttered, your voice sounding way softer than before as you looked down to your hands, beginning to pick at the skin again.

mark’s heart shrinked about three sizes as he watched you, feeling guilty for making you think he was mad about that. “i’m not mad at you” he reassured, taking your hand in his to make you stop your nervous reaction. “i’m just saying that if you had told me i could’ve helped you”

you lifted your eyes to stare into his, eyebrows furrowing slightly “help me how?”

“i don’t know, i could’ve acted like your boyfriend or something,” he shrugged, smiling now that your eyes had found his.

“you would do that?” you asked, your lips forming a smile instinctively at the sight of his own.

“of course i would, bro” he squeezed your hands softly before letting go of them, trying his hardest not to show how difficult it was for him to let go. 

“would you want to come christmas shopping with my cousin and her boyfriend, then? if we go to that she can confirm you’re real and prevent my parents from sending me into a psych ward for making up a guy” you chuckled softly, a little nervous. 

“for sure, i wouldn’t want my best friend to be sent away like that” he joked and bumped your shoulder with no strength. “just let me know when and i’ll even pick you up”

“she said on the 17th” you couldn’t contain your smile as you jumped forward, enveloping him in your arms “thank you so much, markie”

the boy prayed that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was racing at the contact. even when you were always a touchy person, he couldn’t help but get flustered whenever your body came in contact with his. “of course, ynnie.”

…

“okay, let's discuss boundaries” you spoke as you got into his car. the day of your first mission (as he liked to call it) had finally arrived, and he had picked you up just as he had promised. “we need to make it realistic, but i don’t want you to be uncomfortable so i think no kissing is obvious” you presented as he began driving.

“sure, yeah” he agreed, deciding that telling you that kissing you would not make him uncomfortable at all would be a little weird.

“anything you want to add?” you asked as you looked at his side profile, a smile on your lips as you stared at him.

“nah, we’re good” he looked at you for a second before turning back to the road.

the rest of the drive was filled with laughter and chaos as always, you two only settling down when he parked the car at the entrance of the mall. you looked around for a few seconds until you found your cousin and her boyfriend standing by their car. 

“okay, they’re over there” you pointed out “ready, boyfie?” you asked with a humorous tone lingering in your voice.

“so ready, sweetheart” he smiled and got out of the car, moving quickly to open your door for you. you smiled and rolled your eyes in amusement at how hard he was trying before beginning to walk towards your cousin. 

you greeted her excitedly, then moved on to greet her boyfriend. you had known him for years, and were quite friendly with him. “guys, this is mark, my boyfriend” you smiled as you introduced them.

mark almost screamed at how being introduced as your boyfriend made him feel, even if it was fake “hey guys, nice to meet you” he smiled as he extended his hand towards the girl, shaking it politely.

time passed as you walked around the mall, your attention mostly on your cousin as you caught up after too long of not seeing each other, your respective ‘boyfriends’ walking a little behind as they carried your bags.

“she talks about you a lot, you know” yudai said as he caught mark looking at you adoringly, taking advantage of how you couldn’t see him.

“she does?” mark asked, tearing his eyes away from the back of your neck to look at the man walking next to him.

he nodded at his question, smiling at how the younger boy seemed so excited to know his girlfriend talked about him. “she always goes on about how much you take care of her and how funny you are, you make her really happy.” and right then and there, mark knew he made a horrible mistake when he said he would help you. there was no way his heart would come out untouched.

before he could open his mouth to answer, you stopped walking and settled by his side “what are you two talking about?”

“nothing, don’t worry about it,” mark smiled, hugging your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. the action took you by surprise, but you settled on his side anyways.

… 

“my parents want to meet you,” you told mark as you sat in front of him in a restaurant you had gone to for lunch. “they got jealous because my cousin met you first.”

mark chuckled softly as he finished eating, shaking his head at the comment “and when are we supposed to meet them?”

“we could go to their house for dinner today, get it over with so you don’t have to keep pretending anymore, if you’re okay with missing hyucks contest, of course.” you shrugged, trying to act disinterested as you tried to figure out why those words didn’t sit right with you.

“uhm, yeah sure” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it always did.

“everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “we don’t have to miss it if you don’t want to”

“no, it’s okay, i’m just kinda nervous to meet your parents” he shrugged, attempting to not show the disappointment it caused him to think of your whole charade being over.

“don’t worry, markie, they’ll love you” you gave him a reassuring smile and suddenly all the negative feelings left his mind.

a couple hours later, mark stood next to you in front of your parent’s door, extremely nervous. it didn’t matter to him that he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, he really wanted your parents to like him.

“It's okay, they’ll believe the whole thing” you attempted to reassure him, only making him worse at the reminder that you had no reason to be nervous. you were planning the fake break up already anyways. his thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of fingers tangling with his “they’ll love you.”

and the way your eyes looked at him with such sureness that he couldn’t help to feel like everything would be okay as long as you stood by his side. 

he waited for you to let go of his hand as the door opened, but it never happened. he squeezed it softly as he greeted your parents, making sure to shake their hands with his free one, wanting to hold on for as long as he could.

the night flowed perfectly as your parents practically fell in love with the boy you had brought home. it was weird, really, to be sitting there as mark told them a story about how he got lost at a mirror maze once and ended up at the hospital. he looked so pretty, smiling away as he used his abilities to charm your parents.

but you couldn’t be thinking of that, because it was all fake. he was just doing you a favor, and you couldn’t forget that for a single second or it would be bad.

“anyways, your daughter here made fun of me for about three months straight” he said, swooping your hands to lace his fingers with yours.

“i took care of you, though,” you retorted, laughing softly as you tried to defend yourself.

“true, you did,” he smiled as he brought your hands to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back of yours before diving right back into his conversation.

damn, he was a really good actor.

“you should come to christmas dinner this year” your father suggested as the four of you stood on the doorway.

“i don’t know if he can, dad, he has plans already” you said “right?” you looked at mark, silently hoping that for some miraculous reason he would say no.

“i do” of course “but i’ll gladly cancel them if you want me to be here.” oh?

you looked at him with confusion written all over your face. was he really willing to cancel his plans to play pretend boyfriend with you in christmas?

“let’s talk about it later, yeah?” you asked, looking at him breathlessly. had he always looked at you like he would be willing to give you his world on a silver platter?

the boy nodded before turning back to your parents, greeting them politely before you walked towards his car. the ride back to your apartment was silent, the only sound coming from the radio.

“you don’t have to come, you already canceled on your friends today” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you broke the silence.

“i don’t mind, i’ve spent every christmas with them since i was fifteen.” he mumbled back, afraid to speak too loud in the ambiance you had created. 

“and you would rather break that streak to be with my family?” you questioned, your heart racing slightly at how soft his voice was.

“i would rather break it to spend it with you.” he retorted, and you felt your heart miss a couple of beats as he pulled into the driveway.

“i’ll see you on the twenty fourth, then” you smiled, doing little to hide how endeared you were to his words.

“i’ll pick you up, sweetheart.” he smiled back, nearly making you giggle as you got out of the car.

…

it was finally christmas day, and mark was terrified as he waited for you to walk out of your apartment building so he could drive you both to your parents’ house where he would meet your entire family as your (fake) boyfriend.

“oh, wow” he muttered as he finally saw you. the cozy winter outfit you wore nearly made him faint “you look beautiful”

you bit your flustered smile back as you looked him up and down, taking in how handsome he looked. “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he thanked you before opening your car door for you, something he had picked up on those last few weeks of pretend dating, allowing himself to look at you for a couple more seconds before closing the door.

“i have to say, with the amount of gossip i’ve heard about your family, i think i'm extremely prepared for tonight” he bragged as he drove towards your destination.

“shut up and drive,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

the night had gone by better than you expected. your entire family was mesmerized by the boy, and you couldn't help the pride that made your chest swell at the sight of him laughing with your uncles on the other side of the room.

“you really were whipped, aren’t you?” your younger cousin asked as he sat down next to you.

you looked at mark for a couple more seconds before tearing your eyes away from him “yeah” you said, almost breathlessly “i am”

the boy made a disgusted expression, eliciting a soft giggle to tumble past your lips. “he is too, he told me”

wait, what?

“he did?” you asked, unable to hide the surprise that coated your voice. 

“yeah, why are you surprised?” the boy judged “haven’t you been dating for like a year?”

“yes, it’s just a little surprising still” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“it shouldn’t be, look at how he looks at you” he pointed towards mark, making you look his way. your eyes caught his immediately, betraying the secrecy of his loving stare.

your breath hitched on your throat as mark didn’t look away from you. “sorry, i´ll be back in a minute” you muttered before standing up and walking towards mark. “mind if i steal him for a minute, thanks” you smiled as you grabbed his hand and dragged him away to an empty hall.

“hey, ynnie, whats up?” he asked as you stood in front of him. there was a lovesick smile adorning his face, along with a look you recognized from the night he met your parents.

“maki told me you told him you're whipped for me” you blurted out, and mark’s smile only widened.

“i did” he assured.

“because it would reveal our act if you didn’t” you stated, more for yourself than for him.

“or because i am” he commented, a hand coming up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“what?” you asked, astonished at the words that had just left his mouth.

“look up for me really quick, will you?” he asked, his voice sounding like honey and only confusing you further. you still looked up, heart stopping at the sight of a mistletoe hanging right on top of you.

you looked back at mark, at his beautiful eyes and his even more beautiful smile and you just couldn’t take it anymore. your hands found place behind his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, joining your lips together in a kiss you both had waited a little too long for.

mark’s hands made their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he felt relief all through his body.

there was no way that was fake.

★ blue's corner ;; i couldn't make a series and not put mark in it, we all know this. this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

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