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loverboysturn · 2 days ago

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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ the cheer team have an announcement that neither popular!chris or cinderella!reader saw coming !

read this blurb before the below so everything makes sense :) you can find all other writings for this au here.

a/n: buckle in eeekkkk. it’s the big one!

it was a normal monday afternoon, which was being spent with your best friend at the library, your heads buried in your text books, studying for a test you had coming up, followed by the late closing shift tonight at the diner. you always took the time out to study before work, seeing it as some calm before the chaos.

the quiet hum of the library was suddenly interrupted by the crackle of the loudspeakers overhead of you. your focus on the paragraph you were reading broken when the voice of one of the cheerleaders comes over the speaker, as bubbly and as loud as ever.

“ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS, THIS IS YOUR CHEER TEAM! WE ARE CALLING ON EVERYONE TO COME JOIN US IN THE GYMNASIUM RIGHT NOW. COME GET IN THE SPIRIT FOR THE BIG FOOTBALL GAME THIS FRIDAY!”

you exchange a look with your best friend, raising an eyebrow but before you could say anything, she lets out a dramatic sigh and rolls her eyes, “we aren’t actually going to go, are we?”

“looks like we are,” you mutter, studying the room around you to see most people were gathering their stuff and making their way to the gym. you stand up, tossing your history book in your bag and grab your best friends hand, pulling her to her feet. “come on, whatever nonsense it is, we can just laugh about later.”

the gymnasium was packed when you arrived, buzzing with energy. excited students were chatting amongst themselves, all speculating the reason for the cheer team’s mysterious assembly. you manoeuvre your way through the crowd, only stopping momentarily, when you see matt. he wanted to talk to your best friend, of course, but chris was there too so you kept your head down and continued forward.

eventually, you found a spot together in the back. your eyes scanned the room, finding the front, where the cheerleaders were all gathered, led by the head cheerleader stood front and center, making it all about her, as always. her mischievous grin catching your attention, but you don’t linger on her for too long when you catch sight of chris again. even from a distance, you can’t help but notice how heavy his presence is in the room, the way everyone’s eyes seem to be on him.

the room gradually quieted down as the head cheerleader stepped forward, an aura of confidence radiating from her. “alright, alright, everyone!” her voice rang through the gym, sending a wave of excitement through the crowd. “we know why you’re here. you’re here to get hyped for friday night’s big game!”

the crowd erupted into cheers making the football team become overly excitable at the attention, some fellow students surrounding them started to slap chris on the back as he smiled awkwardly.

her grin stretched wider as her eyes scanned the crowd. “but that’s not all we’ve got for you today,” her voice was full of mischief, “we’ve got something that’s going to shake you all up, get the adrenaline in here pumping.”

“so now,” she raised her voice, dramatically drawing out the suspense. “i know all of you,” she said, looking around the room. “just like myself, are huge fans of our amazing football captain, chris.” she gestured towards him, and the cheerleaders beside her held up signs that read “CHEER!” prompting the crowd to cheer in response.

“as we have all seen for ourselves,” she continues, “he’s been playing exceptionally well these last few months. but… do we know the reason why?”

the cheerleaders either side of her, swapping round the signs they were holding, the words WHY written in big red letters, prompting the room to shout it back in unison, which they did.

“because our very special golden boy…” her eyes gleaming, an evil smile tugging at her lips. “has fallen in love.”

you freeze, your blood running cold as the cheerleaders held up new signs saying “AWW” which makes the room around you erupt again, copying the words on them, your eyes flicker over to your best friend but hers are already met with yours. she leaned in close, whispering to you with a tone of urgency, “what the fuck.”

before you could respond, the cheerleader’s voice broke through the noise of the excited audience in front of her. “and i bet you’re all wondering..” she trailed off, grin widening as she took in every second. “who’s his lucky mystery girl? the one behind those late night love confessions? the one fuelling our football captain to play like the star he is.”

a wave of anxiety crashes over you instantly, every eye in the room switching between the cheerleader and chris, but the atmosphere is thick with tension. the crowd had fallen into a silence as the cheerleader paced back and forth, a grin still apparent on her face.

“we’re not going to just tell you who she is,no, we’re going to make you all guess.” she says, before turning to chris. “so before we start, chris… any guesses?”

“stop this shit, now.” he growled, you could see that the tension between them was getting heavier by the second, “this isn’t fuckin’ funny.”

she was relentless, completely ignoring him. “first hint!” she smirked, a tone of excitement in her voice. “chris’s mystery lady likes to keep very much to herself.”

she pauses, letting the words hang in the air, her eyes scanning round the room watching everyone take her words in, some beginning to whisper guesses amongst each other.

“second hint,” she continues, smile still intact. “you have all seen her, always at a certain place when everyone else is off doing their own thing. sometimes you’ll see early in the morning, or maybe you might even see her late at night..” she adds.

as she speaks, you scan the gym, your heart racing with what is inevitably about to happen, when you make eye contact with nick, he’s standing with the photography club, watching the whole thing unfold, and the moment your eyes meet with his, he’s giving you a sympathetic look. he mouths something to you, and though you can’t hear him, you catch the words: “this has nothing to do with me.”

the cheerleader stops walking back and forth now, stopping in the middle, her line of vision now direct with you. “last and final hint,” she’s making eye contact with you, her voice dropping and there’s a dramatic pause before she speaks up, “she makes the best strawberry milkshake in town.”

the room falling silent for a second before realisation washes over like a wave.

all eyes are on you instantly and you can feel your best friend tugging your hand trying to pull you away and get you out of here. your heart is pounding in your chest. the whispers begin again, starting off quiet at first but they start growing louder by the second. the gym starts to like it’s closing on you as the weight of everyone’s gaze feels suffocating.

“now,” the cheerleader wasn’t done yet, taking full advantage of the silence of the room that had fallen back into a stunned silence, “let’s give it up for our very own diner girl” the crowd’s whispers growing louder and louder. “i hope you two live happily ever after.”

“cut the shit,” you hear matt yell, his voice low but sharp. he’s looking straight at her, “i knew you were mean but you’re crossing a fuckin’ line with this.”

you stand frozen, trying to keep your breathing steady, then your eyes meet with his.

chris.

for a split second, it feels like it’s just you and him. his expression is one of shock, quickly replaced by a silent realisation, as if he is asking himself, how had he not seen that it was you all along? the questions hang heavy in the air between you, he’s searching you for all the answers, ones you just can’t give to him right now.

it’s all too much and before your mind can catch up to your body, you’re running. you can’t think straight, and you don’t even know where you’re running to but all you know is that you need to get away from here, away from all the eyes, the attention and the whispers.

the gym doors swing open, and the cool air hits you in an instant, your heart is racing, reminding you that everything has changed now. you’re completely known to chris, you’re a secret that is no longer hidden, and the weight of that is crashing down on you with every step you take but you don’t stop running.

your best friend’s voice calls after you, but you can’t stop until you’re off campus and away from the humiliation of everything that had just happened.

as you round the corner, you hear a voice call your name again, but this time it’s not your best friend, it’s chris’s voice and his words hit you like punch to the gut.

“please don’t run from me again.”

your body hesitates, for a split second, as if you might turn around, but the fear of rejection takes over causing you to run faster. the realisation then hits you, you ran from him at the party when you found out who he was, and you’re running from him now, but you can’t stop.

you don’t stop, you can’t. not yet, not until you’ve figured out what to do next.

#꒰ popular!chris ꒱#꒰ cinderella!reader ꒱

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awesomest-sauce · 1 day ago

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I was thinking that they always put the boys as yanderes and Yuu as honey, but what if it were the other way around?, yandere yuu x twst honey, but make it a soft yandere and that the boys like that attention from soft yandere yuu.

I don't know if I expressed myself well, have a nice afternoon or evening✨

“Just you and I

with Housewardens”

I tried to add a bit of variety in terms of actions and mannerisms in each blurb. I hope that’s okay <3

Riddle Rosehearts can’t comprehend or even hope to grasp how deep your affections are rooted. He remains oblivious to the fact that you were staring at him as he droned about your studies. The daydreams of making him your husband, yours. Well, you’ll have him soon enough as long as you continue to attempt to seduce him in small ways.

Leona Kingscholar is well aware of your obsessive traits. He hears you sneak around the gardens to stalk him. But oh, he can’t resist how sickeningly sweet you would pretend to be when he caught you. So when he discovers Ruggie seeming more hostile towards you, he sways the opinion in your favor. After all, you’re prey…right?

Azul Ashengrotto sneers at you from across the lounge when you enter. The poor octo-mer just can’t get a clear reading on you. Even as you follow him around like some lost puppy, he knows there’s some air of uncertainty. Praise him, call him yours. Corrupt him in those subtle ways that make his best friends despise you, and make him fucking worship you.

Kalim Al-Asim never fails to amaze. Telling you every little detail about his day, including the boys and girls who spoke to him. Not out of dumb lack of awareness, but out of the selfish need and desire to see you snap. He craves your hatred for anyone except him.

Vil Schoenheit denies, denies, denies. Paranoia seeps into his raw mind when you brush past. He recalls Rook’s findings. How you made a point to steal belongings of his for your own ‘collection.’ He hates you, but does he? To be the hero of your tale; that’s enough to keep him stagnant.

Idia Shroud has seen many medias on this. He tries to play the stronger of you two. Acting tough, even pushing your buttons to see how far you’ll go. Will you harm him too? How exciting if you were to… but be wary if possible. His brother may become an obstacle.

Malleus Draconia, the lonely prince, allows you to pull him away. When you whisper in his pretty ears that you could run away, and be only each other’s. Murmuring in his arms that his retainers don’t understand your love… well he can’t have that now, can he?

Matchups and miscellaneous posts are on my Ko-Fi!!

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sweetsaladpainterranch · 2 days ago

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An Indecent Proposal

***

You had shown up to the Hazbin Hotel as a party of two, having been 2 months pregnant when you were killed. You resembled most of your human features except for a pair of tall velvet ears and a small tail that has a mind of its own. You were a deer demon which made you constantly cautious about everything and anyone that happened to cross your path. Especially so now as you knew that both the freakin Princess of Hell and The Radio Demon resided at this hotel, but you had seen the tv interview a few weeks before and it made you think that maybe she was different. Having only been in Hell about a month beforehand, your constant nausea had kept you from even attempting to brave the outside of the tiny box apartment you lucked into.

Thus, here you were, knocking on the giant ornate front door and listening to the incoming stampede, you nearly backtracked down the entrance steps. However, before you could decide to bolt, a blonde whirlwind swept you inside and into the bright lobby harboring a circle of demons already. Once the introductions had been made, you took off the large overcoat you had been wearing and were met by shocked expressions.

"Oh", you tried to explain, "yeah, apparently when you're pregnant in Hell you get terrible cold flashes. Ironic right?" Also, you needed to conceal your condition from any freak who might see you as a two-for-one meal.

The only response you received was the continued open-mouthed and wide-eyed looks from your new house (hotel?) mates until Charlie finally piped up.

"It's already so late. Why don't we take care of the tour and paperwork tomorrow so if you follow-"

"How in the underworld did a sinner get pregnant??!", Angel practically knocked Charlie over as he burst towards you in a frenzy of questions about your pregnancy and recent death. It was pretty obvious after your fall into Hell that reproducing only worked for Hellborn kind. (Usually).

You sat heavily on one of the lobby couches and rubbed your aching, swollen feet as you began your backstory.

Your previous life wasn't as exciting as being a slick thief or an edgy serial killer but you enjoyed your job as a maid for a beautiful estate in the countryside of Savannah, Georgia. At least until you caught the eye of the mansion's owner and were immediately (threatened) convinced to become his side chick for the next few months while the lady of the house was away in Atlanta. As if that wasn't enough of a stereotype, a maid doing her flipping boss, you were soon knocked up and surprise surprise no one was particularly excited.

"You naughty pixie!", Angel interrupted, "My kind of girl." He smiled widely at you with a wink but Vaggie slapped him on the back of the head and encouraged you to continue.

You explained that your boss was highly expectant of abortion, but you were not going to give up the only piece of blood-related family you'd ever known. However, when you said as much as your boss' wife strode into the conversation and (guilted) invited you on a walk through the nearby willow grove. Oh boy...you had a terrible feeling but it was the 21st century, so the worst that was coming was a few insults about your promiscuity and being fired.

Turns out your gut was on point. Not even a mile into the woods you heard a pistol's slide snap back and you only had time to catch the sneer on that bitch's face before you took off. But you were never good with coordination so you fell almost immediately. Dammit! Luckily, the rich mess also had on incredibly inappropriate heels for hiking through the countryside. Which came in handy when she stood over you and began to, honest to Lucifer, monologue and you took the chance to kick her right in the old southern starfish. She fell and tripped herself, right over the side of the tall hill she had lured you to. What wasn't so lucky was that she still had that fucking gun, which decided to go off right when she whacked her head on a tree. You were shot through the heart (yes like the stupid song) and spent your last moments clutching your belly and sobbing how sorry you were that you couldn't protect your baby.

***

The room was silent for a long moment as the gang mirrored each other's teary gazes and only then did you notice a slight and growing, static feeling in the air. After a while, Charlie spoke through her sniffles, "YOU POOR THING!! Vaggie Quick!" (Sob Sob) "We gotta give her the most comfy room we have!" Nodding, Vaggie scrambled for your suitcase and Husk for your bag while everyone else practically tried to crowd-surf you up the stairs while continuing to cry and whimper soothing affirmations.

However, the sudden elevation and excitement triggered your nausea, which forced you to begin looking around for a bathroom while gently prying the guiding hands off of you. God, can someone turn down that radio? The static is becoming irritating. They didn't seem to catch your ears pin back in discomfort or the flush traveling up your neck and you began to fold in on yourself reflexively as the urge to puke became overwhelming.

Fuck! You're about to vomit in front of strangers. How embarrassing.

But before your knees hit the tile of the lobby, you were swallowed by darkness(?) and found yourself in a large, red bathroom on a very plush bathmat. And then the nausea demanded your attention once more and you fully lost your stomach contents into the, blessedly, close toilet. After a moment you needed time to catch your breath and collect yourself before figuring out just where the Hell you were. Suddenly a large hand landed on your back and very gently smoothed out the wrinkles in your sweater as static once again tickled your senses.

Your protective deer instincts kicked in immediately and you tried to spring to your feet but, instead, wobbled over and nearly face-planted into the sink.

"Easy there, darling.", a static yet gentle, male voice cautioned as you were steadied against its owner and took notice of an earthy scent wafting from him.

You jerked your head up as your ears pinned back on instinct and nearly fainted on the spot at the realization that you were so close to the one and only Radio Demon. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!

He was wearing a wide smile and a red suit (almost as sharp as his smile) that matched the red of his hair and watchful eyes. The same large hand rose to try and cup your cheek but froze when you let out a small panicked bleat. He seemed to take a hint and stepped away from you before pointing towards the open door behind you, which you backed your way towards.

You were nearly out when you felt the familiar cramping sensation within your stomach and lost your footing once again. And just like the last time, the red demon caught you easily and the princess carried you out into what looked like a large study. More of his earthy musk caught your attention as he carefully placed you onto a plush chair in front of the fireplace. Relaxation began to take the place of the fear you felt in the wake of his smell and the warm seat. "Who are you?", you finally asked.

He smiled a bit more naturally and answered as he took the chair next to yours, "Alastor, my dear! It's quite a pleasure to meet a fellow deer demon and a lovely doe at that!".

He offered you a cup of tea, "To settle your stomach, darling.", and you wondered if this was really the big bad Radio Demon. He chuckled at the blush crossing your face and continued, "Forgive my sudden actions but I felt that you were becoming a bit overwhelmed by my compatriots and brought you somewhere quieter."

He gestured around the homey room with pride, "I don't usually allow others here but I have a special place in my heart for a doe in distress." He placed a hand on your knees and you leaned further forward to capture more of his relaxing scent. If you could make a candle out of it you definitely would. His eyebrow arched upward knowingly at your small smile to yourself and he withdrew his hand.

"I quite enjoy your scent as well, dear. Though I wonder if it'll change once you have your fawn."

The mention of your baby sobered you up from the haze, "Why? I've never been so relaxed by anyone's smell before. Yours is almost like taking a sleeping pill and I don't understand why I'm suddenly so affected by yours."

Alastor chuckled a bit before answering, "It's pure instinct, my dear. There aren't many deer demons in Hell so I'm not surprised if I'm probably the first you've come across. As an expecting doe, your body and mind crave a male for both protection and to relieve certain complications during pregnancy.", his voice dipped into a low volume at his last remark, "I'm also assuming that you came here to seek refuge for a safe birth,.but I wouldn't be shocked if your instincts told you to come find me as well."

"I- wait what?? No, I saw Charlie's commercial and thought it'd be safe here."

"Safe?", Alastor laughed darkly, "Everyone knows that this is my territory and my presence alone nearly made you faint. Yet you say you came here, to the very home of the Radio Demon, because you thought it'd be safe?"

"Well, I had heard that you'd be here but-", you stuttered to a halt in your thoughts as another wave of irritating cramps crept through your abdomen. You wished he would lean closer so his scent could relax you again.

"Not to worry, my darling. I surmise that the doe within you drove you to seek out a strong buck to finally relax enough to begin nesting in safety. The protective environment of the hotel is merely an additional bonus." He laughed again as he took your hand in his and you could once again bathe in the smell of fresh nature.

You sat back once the cramps, which were suddenly coming on in closer increments, began to subside and you thought about his theory. You had only possessed animalistic qualities for a few months but you were certain that you weren't under such strong inner control from them. Another cramp spread over your stomach and you let out a frustrated huff that received an amused chuckle from Alastor.

"Do you know why I'm having these weird cramps?", you asked dryly because his smug face said he was waiting for you to ask.

"Indeed I do!", he smiled, "You see now that you have found a buck, your body can begin to calm down and focus on the child instead of stressing about its environment." He placed a hand on his puffed-out chest like a knight in shining armor.

"Okay and?"

"A deer's gestational period is only about 7 months, which means that your body needs to expand more rapidly than a human's would. So, those small pains are simply your womb growing but they will even put as long as you are around me."

"How do you know this? There are not exactly any OBGYN offices down here." You should know since you had hoofed it all over Pentagram City to check in on your baby.

"I've been around deer since my early days above ground, though you are certainly the first pregnant sinner demon I've ever encountered. Very unusual."

"So I've gathered.", you answer. Still holding your lower stomach, which was just big enough to make your pregnancy known. "You said that a male deer could help with complications during pregnancy? Does that include these growing pains because they're getting worse."

Alastor once again withdrew himself slightly from you with a static-filled, heavy sigh and looked towards the green flames of the fireplace. His grin tightened and his grip on the chair's armrests made the wood groan as he seemed to need a moment to collect his thoughts.

You waited as your anxiety began to grow once more, which seemed to draw his attention because he turned to you with a soft gaze. "Yes, I can help with them.", he said slowly as if this conversation pained him, "but in a natural sort of way. Not with pills or any useless confection like that." He had gotten up pace in front of the fire while he continued, "Even without that coat, I could smell a mate-less, pregnant female immediately and I'm sure you could notice me as well because cervids can connect more easily through the senses."

He swallowed loudly, clearly uncomfortable.

"Alastor?", you asked hesitantly, "What are you trying to say?" He stopped in front of you suddenly and stared straight into your face, "Just like a relaxing hormone is released within a doe when she smells a strong buck; another stronger hormone is released when the male gives her an orgasm."

The room went silent and you were suddenly aware of a dull ache within your body that has been growing since you met Alastor. You were pretty sure that your whole face was as red as a cherry tomato and you looked away. Neither of you spoke for a while and you both looked away from each other in the uncomfortable silence. Until another more harsh cramp racked through you and you let out a small sigh at the discomfort which made Alastor step towards you with a clear of his throat.

"Listen dear, I have no plans of forcing myself onto you but unless you leave my vicinity, your body will continue to react to my presence here as it acclimates itself.", he knelt in front of you and moved your face to look at him, "If I'm honest, I'm not usually willing with such things but it seems that I cannot escape the reaction my body is having to yours either." Your breath caught in your chest and your blush was now definitely spreading down your body. His touch was nearly electric and his voice was so soothing that you couldn't believe you were ever afraid of this man.

But you needed clarification, "What exactly are you offering?"

"I heard your story downstairs from the shadows and I promise to find that bastard and make him a guest on my radio show. Though, I know of an influential man taking advantage of a young woman and, then, casting her away when the consequences come calling." Alastor spoke with such intensity that you were taken aback and wondered who important to him was done as you had been. "I can also respect the strength of a mother who fought for her child till her last breath despite the odds.", he genuinely smiled again as he seemed lost in thought for a moment.

***

Alastor hadn't lied when he said that he had smelled you as soon as you entered the hotel and he was almost pulled towards your sweet, airy scent. As he listened to your pitiful story from his shadow behind your chair, he quickly noticed that you also expelled a flowery yet slightly acidic smell as well. His entire body tensed with a flair of static as his instincts told him that was an unborn fawn he was smelling. He immediately sent his shadow to retrieve you once he saw that you were overwhelmed by the excitement of the others.

You were so small, your belly barely showing, as you tried (and failed) to get away from him in your panic. When you let out such an adorable little bleat of fear, he thought he'd propose there and then. Propose?! The thought nearly knocked him off his feet as he poured you a cup of tea as an excuse to sit down. Well, he supposed that it was a reasonable reaction since he didn't perceive another's scent marking on you and you're body was clearly tightly stressed from the lack of a mate's aid.

And fuck, your sweetly acidic aroma was beginning to become overwhelming as his throat started to tighten and a weight settled on his lower abdomen. He doesn't remember the last time he had gotten so worked up over a female. How long has it been since he's seen a doe demon in Hell? Maybe 2 decades? The cramps would only increase and become more aggressive if something wasn't done. He remembered, from his life, pregnant does roaming that starved to death because their mates had been killed and they couldn't fend for themselves during their growing pains.

And you reminded him so much of his dear mother. She, too, had been caught in the web of a rich pervert and left to fend for herself and her unborn son, but she also resolved to make it on her own. With her own truly humbling strength and determination that he saw echos of in your eyes.

Yes, you were lovely and he wasn't going to let you face this alone, though he was sure you could. And it wouldn't be so bad to have a woman's touch around his life.

***

"Alastor?", you called his name again and his ears perked up before his eyes returned to yours.

He took in a long breathe and began, "I'm trying to make a proposal, darling. Become my mate and in turn, I will see to it that you and your fawn have everything that you could ever want.", he materialized a black ring with a beautiful red stone laid within it and red antlers sprouted over the ring's circumference.

You were absolutely dumbfounded. You had just met this man, yet he wanted to be mates like that? "W-what?! What are you saying, Alastor? You would mate with an already pregnant woman and raise another man's baby? Why?!" You couldn't get your mind wrapped around the proposal at all. That's just not what your experience with men lined up with, no.

Alastor still had on his bright smile and continued to hold out his ring that would seal the deal, "My dear, you have no idea how you have affected me in just the small amount of time you've been here. You are strong and magnificent.", he cupped your face with his free hand, "and I will admit that I don't usually find myself having such feelings for anyone but it would be the mistake of both my lifetimes if I did not see that you are both mine."

***

I had the idea of how a pregnant doe would respond to Alastor a while ago and wanted to feel it out so when better to do that than when stuck in bed, sick from covid lol

I'm on pretty heavy cold medicine so if it doesn't read well we can blame the meds lol 😆

#hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 1 day ago

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Oh my goodness, I went absolutely *feral* for your Kitchen Window series and would love to send a request! 🐛 - tickle fights With Raph x Reader, I've always pictured Raph being far more ticklish that he lets on and absolutely refuses to admit it at all lol

OUUUH GIRL I HAVE SUCH A SOFT SPOT FOR TICKLE FICS and also I COMPLETELY agree. ticklish Raphie for the winnn

also I went just a little overboard with this one, I'm such a sucker for raph fics lmao 🩷♥️

ticklish

bayverse! Raphael x gn! reader

desc- (big red is more ticklish than he lets on)

warnings - none!

word count - 1.3k

Most of the nights the boys come home from patrol, they’re exhausted. It’s straight from keeping lookout and impressive parkour across buildings, to coming home and sleeping the day away or lounging about quietly in the lair, with their own respective hobbies.

Not tonight though. Raph knows you’re already waiting for him in his and Mikey’s room. The thought of getting to home to you, paired with something exciting in the air makes he and his brothers rowdy, entering the lair with loud whoops and jumping off of eachother like they’re spiked off of an insane amount of caffeine. The first thing Raph does when he steps inside is strip himself of the gear and weapons wrapped to his body, letting it all drop to the floor like dead weight in the huge living area.

“Aw come on Raph, we just cleaned up this morning,” Leo’s complaints are brushed away with an eye roll.

“Gotta hot date waitin for me,” he makes the promise to pick it up later (even though he most definitely will not).

Raph’s grateful Mikey’s already parked his butt on the couch starting up a game, meaning he and you have the area to yourselves. He shoves his younger brother, just to piss him off a little, and then runs away before he can retaliate.

You’re already sitting on the top bunk, laptop open and smiling at his entrance through the door.

“Hey handsome!”

There’s that gorgeous face.

“How are ya, hot stuff?”

He all but runs over and climbs up the ladder to sit himself next to you.

“I’m great. I missed you.”

Raph grins and moves to pull you up in his lap, kissing the crown of your head.

“Missed you too,” he breathes into your freshly shampooed hair with a sigh.

You hit the play button on a movie neither of you had seen before and snuggle in closer, back pressed against his plastron, and his arms snake around you in a tight hug, chin resting on your head while it hums quietly.

He’s so comfortable, and he knows you are too. But god, is it hard to sit still. Raph’s still got so much leftover energy from patrol. He hates that you’ve already settled in place, and he’s trying to find something to do with his restless hands. So he does what he knows best.

That fucker.

You know what he’s up to when his hands slide down to your hips, grazing over them with a light touch.

“Raphael…”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare…”

“I ain’t doing nothin, babe,”

He emphasizes ‘nothin’ with a poke at your ribs, making you try and leap from between his legs, but it’s too late. Raph pins you with one arm, and uses the other to attack your sides without mercy.

“RAPH, STOP.”

His shit eating grin doesn’t yield, and neither does his tickling, pulling a loud, squealing laugh from your desperately flailing body. Your weak kicking and slapping only eggs him on further, digging his fingertips further into your sides. He tickles everywhere, because unfortunately, everywhere is where you’re ticklish.

This sucks so much. He grabs at your feet, your neck, your armpits. And all you can do is scream like you’re being stabbed, paired with weak, breathless laughing. Just the size difference alone is a struggle, holding your much smaller body down onto his bed. If this weren’t such a common occurrence, you know his brother’s would be rushing in concern with your cries for help, weapons at the ready. Unfortunately, you’re all alone in this one. He finally shows you a little bit of mercy, when you manage to get out that you’re about to pee your pants.

He’s just laughing at your misfortune, even when you slap his chest in annoyance and wipe tears from your eyes.

“You shithead.”

“Yeah but I’m your shithead.” Raphael just leans back against the headboard, arms crossed with that stupid smug face.

“Whatever.”

You know he isn’t half as ticklish as you are. If that, not at all. It’s still worth the effort of jumping on him and prodding at the thick, scaled skin of his collarbone with your much tinier fingers. Your boyfriend just deadpans. “Come on, sweetheart, you know I ain’t ticklish.”

You roll your eyes, and palm his face away from yours, whining.

“You’re so meannn.”

That fact doesn’t keep you from letting him pull you back over next to him and tuck under his arm to keep watching the movie. He kisses your head again, trying to coax you from your pouting. You can practically hear his eyeroll when you don't give in.

“Have it your way, then.”

In reply, you jab a light elbow into his side. And he flinches.

Raph doesn’t flinch, ever. You’re so much smaller than he is, so you know that any hits or shoves against him are all for not, even when you don’t hold back. It’s suspicious, the way his eyes are trained extra firmly on the laptop screen and refusing to meet your squinting eyes.

“You okay?” One of your fingers hovers over the skin between his plastron and carapace.

“Y-yeah, of course- AGH!”

Raphael leaps in the air when you poke him, screaming at a pitch that you’ve never heard from him before. He sounds like a girl.

Bingo.

“I knew it!” You throw an accusing finger in his face

His eyes are pleading, head shaking, while you poise yourself like a wild cat on the hunt, ready to pounce.

“Oh, no, come on babe,” Raph swallows, “I-It’s just a sensitive spot. You don’t gotta do this.”

“Oh, yes, I absolutely do.”

Now this absolute unit can fight just about anyone off. Hell, you saw, with your own eyes, how he and his brothers sent the Kraang back to wherever he came from. He’s nothing but muscle and scar enveloping a big, gentle heart.

But when you jump on him and tickle his sides, like it’s what you were born to do, all that training is utterly useless. He’s laughing, loud, and trying to push your hands off with strength equal to a cooked spaghetti noodle. And boy, do you relish in it. Finally, you get the excitement of holding your boyfriend hostage at your fingertips, dragging them over his sides and pinning one knee down on his chest for extra measure. His laugh is boisterous, broken up with gasps for air and little ‘pleases’ and ‘baby’s’ trying to convince you to stop. It’s all fun and games, until Raphael kicks a huge leg against the mattress for support, and sending him flying off the edge of the bed and disappearing from the top bunk, pulling down one of the knitted blankets with him. You gasp.

“OH SHIT.”

You feel horrible, moving at the speed of light to peek over its edge, seeing him leaning back against his shell and laughing even more now that hes made it to the floor. Once it’s clear that the tears he’s wiping are from joy and not, you waste no time in jumping down onto the floor with him, and straddle his wide waist.

“Oh come on, sweet thing!” He’s trying to romance you away from another tickle attack. Your wide smile is paired with lidded, playful eyes and you lean in just over his snout. Raph swallows thickly. A warm sensation tingles in his gut and it makes his heart race, and pupils widen. Your fingertips are lingering over his skin.

“You better remember this exact moment” his skin shudders at the low whisper of your voice, “In case you decide to try and tickle me again.”

A quick kiss to his nose is a stark contrast to the seductive tone you put on. Raph’s face heats up. You don’t tickle him, just stand and turn, and climb back up the ladder to his bunk. His incredulous stare twists into a playful grin, watching your hips sway with each step. He throws the blanket off, and hurries up behind you with a different plan in mind ;)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

YAYYY MY FIRST REQUEST WOOHOOOO

Sorry this one took me a little while to roll out, I had to get some inspiration back in me after the kitchen window burned me out a little 😭

I HOPE THIS MET YOUR EXPECTATIONS, AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH A CUTE REQUEST, I LOVED ITTT

REBLOG, LIKE, AND REPLY IF YOU ENJOYED!!

Also, ask to join my taglist so you don't miss out on more writings like this one!! 🩷💓💕

LOVE YA BABESSSS 🩷💓💕🌸🧼🫧

taglist! - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @its-a-me-emmabee @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 @asillysimp @miranexx @cinnamonskiss @le0n-ardo @silveritydreams @goldenflowerdragon @loveshrubs @glitterystarfishfestival @supersleepyslowpoke @floflodoesart @crimsonrubie @dumpster-fire3131 @hatothespanishpigeon ]

#xreader #tmnt raphael #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayverse raphael x reader #tmnt x reader #bayverse raph #bayverse tmnt #request #tickle fight #bayverse raph x reader #tmnt #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt bayverse #gn reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days ago

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Hi there

What's your take on Harry's relationship with fame?

Hi 👋

The books are pretty explicit about it, so I don't feel like I have much to add. Harry is, in general, very uncomfortable with his fame and with people paying attention to him, but he's also polite, so you get these interactions:

“Bless my soul,” whispered the old bartender, “Harry Potter…what an honor.” He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back.” Harry didn’t know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. “Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can’t believe I’m meeting you at last.” “So proud, Mr. Potter, I’m just so proud.” “Always wanted to shake your hand — I’m all of a flutter.” “Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can’t tell you, Diggle’s the name, Dedalus Diggle.” “I’ve seen you before!” said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle’s top hat fell off in his excitement. “You bowed to me once in a shop.” “He remembers!” cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. “Did you hear that? He remembers me!” Harry shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

(PS)

“Did you see his scar?” Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn’t, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

(PS)

Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he’d seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red. “All right, Harry? I’m — I’m Colin Creevey,” he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. “I’m in Gryffindor, too. D’you think — would it be all right if — can I have a picture?” he said, raising the camera hopefully. “A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.

(CoS)

He wishes to not have people stare at him all the time. It's the main reason he wished to become a Metamorphmagus:

“Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?” Harry asked her, straightening up, completely forgetting about packing. Tonks chuckled. “Bet you wouldn’t mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?” Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harry’s forehead. “No, I wouldn’t mind,” Harry mumbled, turning away. He did not like people staring at his scar.

(OotP)

But by book 4, he's more or less used to it:

It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find out that everyone in the hidden wizarding world knew his name. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him wherever he went. But he was used to it now: At the end of this summer, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again.

(GoF)

Though, he's still embarrassed and uncomfortable by the attention:

“ ‘Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache . . . dear, dear, Potter, what’s ailing you now? ‘A boy like no other, perhaps . . .’ ” Harry could feel his face burning. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Hermione was blushing scarlet now.

(GoF)

Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had suddenly been ushered onstage. He also wondered why so many of them were there. “A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,” said Lupin, as though he had read Harry’s mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

(OotP)

Dinner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience for Harry. The news about his shouting match with Umbridge seemed to have traveled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts standards. He heard whispers all around him as he sat eating between Ron and Hermione. The funny thing was that none of the whisperers seemed to mind him overhearing what they were saying about him — on the contrary, it was as though they were hoping he would get angry and start shouting again, so that they could hear his story firsthand.

(OotP)

I wanted to add this final quote, though, since while Harry hates the attention and various people, both close to him (Ron, Hermione, Sirius) and ones who don't know him that well (Tonks, Susan Bones) are aware he does not like his fame, many (such as Snape, Draco, Fudge, Scrimgour, Lockhart, and even Colin Creevy to a degree) think he doesn't mind it or even likes it:

“Remembered you’re not at school, have you?” said Scrimgeour, breathing hard into Harry’s face. “Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It’s time you learned some respect!” “It’s time you earned it.” said Harry

(DH)

I think this has to do again with how Harry presents himself to others, but also because many of them are projecting hard. Lockhart loves his fame, Colin idolizes the fictitious boy-who-lived and wants to be just like that non-existent person, Fudge likes to feel important, Draco wishes he got half of the amount of attention Harry's getting, etc.

So, Harry never really liked the fame or attention, but he learned to ignore it for the most part by year 4. Even before that, his responses to people gushing over him and staring at his scar is to be embarrassed or angry internally but polite for the most part externally. A lot of times he chooses to just not say anything about the stares and whispers. Even when he blows up at people in OotP, it's not for the stares and attention, but for calling him a liar. He's really good at ignoring how uncomfortable he is when stared at to appear polite and not shout at anyone. Then again, he has years of practice in being polite to people he hates because he has to be (Dursleys).

The fame is something he just accepted. He's resigned to it even if he wishes people would mind their own damn business.

#asks #optimisticparadisekoala #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter meta #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory

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gf2bellamy · 5 hours ago

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hello!!! just wanted to tell you that i absolutely love your fics and they really make my day <3

i was wondering if i could request a fic where bau!reader is kind of a geek about maybe doctor who but they really dont talk about it until they hear penelope and spencer talking about and she goes full on reid rant and spencer kind of just lights up bc hes never seen her so excited about something before

hopefully this isnt too niche 😣😣😣😣

but i would love to see what you would do!!!

-🦔

doctor — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing a/n: hi hi !! thank you so much <3 i barely know anything about doctor who so i apologize if something is wrong ( google is such a life saver ) 😭 pls lmk so i can fix it but tysm for your request !! <33 hope you enjoy this

You clutched the report tightly to your chest as you made your way down the hall toward Garcia’s office. The case file you’d been working on was missing a crucial piece of information, and Garcia was the only one who could fill in the gaps.

As you approached her brightly decorated door, you noticed it was slightly open, and the sound of a conversation spilled into the hallway.

You recognized the voices immediately. You paused for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, but then you caught a snippet of their conversation that made your heart skip a beat.

“But you have to admit,” Spencer was saying, his voice tinged with excitement, “the way the Doctor handles paradoxes is scientifically fascinating. I mean, the concept of a fixed point in time versus a mutable one—it’s not entirely implausible, given theoretical physics.”

“Oh, please,” Garcia shot back, laughing. “It’s a TV show, Boy Wonder. Don’t go all ‘Reid’ on me and ruin the magic with your big brain.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you leaned against the doorframe, listening.

Doctor Who.

They were talking about Doctor Who. It was your favorite show, something you’d loved for years but rarely brought up at work.

You couldn’t help yourself. “Fixed points in time are one thing,” you chimed in, stepping into the room, “but what about the ethics of the Doctor’s non-interference policy? I mean, how many times has he broken his own rules to save someone? And don’t even get me started on the Time War.”

Both Garcia and Spencer turned to look at you, their eyes wide with surprise. Garcia’s mouth dropped open in delight, while Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

You felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“I mean, the Doctor’s whole thing is about compassion and saving people, right? But then you’ve got moments like in ‘The Waters of Mars,’. It’s such a fascinating contradiction.”

Spencer stared at you, his expression a mix of awe and admiration. “You… you watch Doctor Who?” he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious.“Yeah. I’ve been a fan for years. It’s kind of my thing.”

Garcia clapped her hands together, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, this is perfect! Reid finally has someone who can keep up with his sci-fi rants. I mean, I love the show, but I’m more about the drama and the cute companions. You two can geek out over the sciencey stuff.”

Spencer’s eyes never left yours, and you could see the spark of excitement in them. “Do you… do you want to talk about it sometime?” he asked hesitantly, as if he were afraid you’d say no. “I mean, if you’re not busy. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the newer seasons. I know some fans have mixed feelings about them.”

You felt your heart flutter at the earnestness in his voice. Spencer Reid, the man you’d secretly admired for so long, was asking you to talk about Doctor Who. It was almost too good to be true.

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “But fair warning, I might get a little carried away. Once I start talking about the Doctor, it’s hard to stop.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a shy smile, and you noticed the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. “I don’t mind,” he said softly. “I like hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It’s… nice.”

The room seemed to grow quieter.

Garcia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, as much as I’d love to stick around and watch this adorable nerd-fest unfold, I’ve got some data to hack. You two kids have fun.”

She winked at you before turning back to her computer, leaving you and Spencer standing there, looking at each other.

You glanced down at the report in your hands, suddenly remembering why you’d come to Garcia’s office in the first place.

“Oh, right,” you said, holding up the file. “I actually came here for your help, Garcia. I’m missing some information for this case.”

Garcia waved a hand dismissively. “Consider it done, sweetcheeks. But seriously, you two should go grab a coffee or something. Talk about timey-wimey stuff. I’m sure Reid has a lot of opinions he’s dying to share.”

Spencer chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, wouldn’t want to impose,” he said, glancing at you. “But if you’re free…”

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. “I’d like that. Maybe after work?”

“It’s a date,” Spencer said, then immediately looked like he wanted to take the words back. “I mean, not a date-date. Unless you—I mean, it could be, if you wanted—”

You laughed, cutting off his rambling. “A date sounds perfect,” you said, smiling warmly at him.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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arietem · 19 hours ago

Text

wait, i'm supposed to be the dominant one

summary: reader comes to the chateau after work where jj is waiting for her like the good boy he is

jj maybank x reader

୨୧ light smut, praise kink ୨୧ ⠀

jj ��: babyy im home

you: i'll be there soon

be good and wait for me ;)

jj 💘: yes ma'am

Seeing those words on your screen made you shiver in anticipation of what was to come. You were on your way to the Chateau, leaving a cloud of sickly sweet strawberry-flavored vape behind you. Wrapping your lips around the nozzle, your mind went straight to a certain blond boy whose lips were on it first. Lips you were dying to get a taste of again.

You couldn't think straight ever since you and JJ started this tension-filled friends-with-benefits type of situation. Each one of your nerves was burning with something you had never felt before. Being the center of JJ's attention was exhilarating, adrenaline-inducing, and kinda dangerous. Yeah, dangerous and a little risky, but never unsafe. Wasn't that funny? Being with JJ in that way, even if you haven't defined it yet was dangerous. And you fucking loved it.

The Chateau was dark when you arrived. The Pogues were away for the night, all of them doing their own thing, leaving you and JJ alone for the night. Well, they left JJ alone, nobody knew about you two yet. Sooner or later, they will find out about your activities, but today was not that day. There was something incredibly hot about hiding from JJ's friends (well, they were fast becoming yours too), stealing touches when nobody was looking, whispering sweet nothings when they were too distracted to notice.

When you first came to this island, you were prepared to be bored out of your mind, working the summer away at the restaurant your aunt owned. Oh, how proved wrong you were. You couldn't even imagine something this exciting could be happening to you, much less with a tornado of a boy—a tornado with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen in your life. When you locked gazes with those eyes that reminded you of sapphires, you knew you were absolutely done for. And that was before you saw the smirk.

When you slowly opened the door to the house, the first thing you noticed was the tangy smell in the air—a staple of this house, really. You left your backpack by the entrance and followed the smell, looking for JJ. You saw him sitting on the deck couch on the patio, with a joint in hand and a backwards hat on. You couldn't help but shiver walking toward him.

"Hey, you." You playfully nudged his shoulder and stole his hat, putting it on your head while coming to stand in front of him.

"Shit mama, I didn't even hear you come in. You know my heart is delicate, don't scare me like that." He put a palm over his heart, acting all wounded and shit. You rolled your eyes at that and took his hand to interlock your fingers. With your other hand, you took off his hat and flicked it to the side of the deck.

"Hey - ", JJ tried to say something, but you weren't waiting anymore, it was a long day, and you needed your sunshine in human form to bring you back to life.

In one slick movement, you straddled him and grabbed him by the jaw, tilting his chin up a little. “You’re such a good boy, doing what I say and waiting here for me. I couldn't get you out of my head all throughout my shift, got so many orders wrong. My aunt is gonna be pissed.” She won't, you both knew that.

For a moment, you just sat on top of him, not doing anything, just getting lost in his hooded gaze, clouded with lust and something deeper. You then leaned down and licked his lips, almost panting from the friction you could feel where your bodies connected. Thank God you decided to put on a skirt after work.

He let out a whimper reserved only for you and you swore you could see his pupils widen, making his blue eyes virtually disappear. That was the sight you loved the most, the one where the black of his pupils took over everything, giving him a buzzed look like he was high on you.

The next thing you knew, you were being flipped over, this time with him on top. His hand rested on the base of your throat, not grabbing you, but still heavy enough to feel the pressure you desperately craved. “I love it when you call me that.” He grinded into you a bit, proving his point. “I wanna be a good boy for my pretty girl.”

"Oh, you are, baby. The best boy." You gave him a wink and he pushed on you a little stronger this time. Your eyes fluttered and it was your turn to whimper. It was no surprise JJ had a way with words in bed and you loved finding out which buttons to push on him. "Are you gonna do something now that you have me all to yourself?"

At that, JJ let go of your throat and stood up in front of you. He looked down on you with that signature smirk and your legs spread apart a bit without you even thinking about it. "Needy, are we? Don't worry, we have all night to ourselves, cupcake." He sank to his knees and grabbed your thighs, slowly stroking with the pads of his thumbs.

As his lips traced a path along your legs all the way to your aching core, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the back of the couch. JJ's hair was tickling you and you twitched involuntarily, snapping your eyes open. JJ's blue ones flicked to your face and you could see how much he was enjoying this. Finally, he reached your center, pushed your panties to the side, and gave you a teasing lick. A moan escaped your lips, spurring him on.

"I'll be taking these off now, cupcake." JJ slid the panties down your legs, tossing them behind him. You have always been a confident girl and you didn't squirm once you were bare in front of his face. You could feel a light breeze on your pussy and another shiver went down your spine. "I had the longest day at work today. This was all I was thinking about, JJ." The words jumbled out of you, your voice breathy.

"Yeah? You've been this wet all day?" JJ hooked both your legs over his shoulders and lightly tapped on your pussy, knowing how horny it made you. "I gotta take care of you then."

"Yeah, you gott-a, ah!" More whimpers fell from your lips as JJ bent down and started lapping you up. Your hands sank into his golden hair and tugged lightly, earning a hum from him, vibrating deliciously against your eager pussy.

Yes, you fucking loved this friends-with-benefits situation you got going on.

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44forza · 13 hours ago

Text

backburner (chapter one)

series masterlist, main masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut. mdni.

tropes: teammates, friends to lovers to enemies ... and back to lovers

word count: 3.3k

summary: charles is boy wonder, prince of monaco, il predestinato, and the clear favorite for the WDC. as the newest addition to the team and only woman on the grid, all eyes are on you as you navigate your way through your 3rd season in f1. your illicit past with your teammate only seems to add to the bubbling tension. will you ever be seen as worthy to ferrari? to charles? inspired by the song backburner by niki

warnings: sexism/misogyny will be heavily discussed in this fic. please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! there's a decent amount of timeline hopping which is split up by page breaks but everything should be clear. oc is def a black cat character lol but do not be fooled this is a mutually pining situation, they're just kind of stupid and bad at communicating properly.

author's note: chapter one is here!!! i'm so excited to get this out and share this story with u guys. as always please let me know what u think <3 pls send me an ask if u want to be added to the taglist.

you’re ushered through a sea of employees, rosso corsa flanking you from all sides. the gap widens to accommodate you and your escort to the center of the room, though it feels like the room has already swallowed you up entirely. the energy in the room is electric. you feel more like a live wire. fragile like a bomb. as you reach the steps of the stage and meet the eyes of each person there, aside from one, your feet grow heavier with every step. there are words exchanged excitedly upon your appearance, both in english and italian, but it’s hard to hear through the ringing in your head.

few people in the world have stood here, you think distantly. there isn’t time to ponder if maybe that’s why it feels so lonely. you feel the dialogue whizz by you like their words are flying around the room, circling you. an introduction, probably—a mic is in your hand and you’re expected to address the room at some point. to address your new team. you don’t need to look to see your new teammate's eyes haven’t moved from the floor since your entry. his gaze is the most piercing of all, and you’re glad to be free of it in this moment.

it’s easy to fall back on rehearsed lines. thank you for the warm welcome, i look forward to meeting everyone and working with you all to fight for another constructors championship this year. the words placate your agent standing nearby even if they dont quite reach your ears as you spew them. you don’t say the words in the back of your throat, how you want to fight for the driver’s championship, how you’re more than a second seat warmer, how you are just as capable as your teammate who can’t even be bothered to acknowledge your presence just a few feet away. it was easier to pretend you didn’t want any of it to begin with. a true team player.

you’re so consumed in feeling what you shouldn’t be feeling to notice that your teammate is looking now. the type of gaze that seeps into your marrow and back. you wonder what he sees as you lock eyes. there’s more chatter that flits in your ears, groups form to take the two of you away for kit fittings and modifications, but neither of you move.

his gaze is hypnotizing. it’s strong enough to pick you up and carry you away with it if you aren’t careful. but you are. after last year, you’re more careful than you’ve ever been. it’s easy to forget about all of that though in these small, fleeting moments. it’s only as you’re being pulled away by your race engineer that you note how sad he looks. eyebrows downturned and solemn. it reminds you that you’re angry, and you can’t afford to forget that again. you look away and don’t look back.

the tour goes smoothly, though you knew it would. ferrari has a reputation for many things, their sterile professionalism being one of them. as you glance around each room and shake hands with every important person ushered your way, you know better than to linger on anyone’s face for a beat too long. you knew what you would find.

you were an odd choice to be sure. this wasn’t to say you were undeserving. though you try to maintain a humble attitude, you had an impressive couple of years so far in F1. you signed your rookie contract to alpine where you stayed for two years, finishing P5 in last year's constructors championship after a hard fought battle with aston martin. alpine’s car was far from impressive in terms of pace, but that’s never been enough to hold you back. you were fast and consistent. the past year has been full of pushing yourself to the absolute limit physically and mentally to make things shake, as well as secret meetings and phone calls discussing a potential move to many other teams on the grid. but talent isn’t all that makes up a reputation. you’re known to be ruthless on track, determined to win no matter the obstacle or person in front of you. in a sport like this, that should be admirable. but when you’re a woman, and that obstacle or person is charles leclerc, things aren’t quite so easily decided. especially to the tifosi.

competitiveness is seen as aggression, assertiveness is seen as bitchiness, confidence is seen as arrogance. you’ve grown used to these. most fall like water down your back, now. but on some occasions they burn your skin like a freshly scarred brand. every friendly gesture with another driver is speculated upon, every physical attribute of yours is picked apart online. it’s all a test, anyways. at least it’s hard to not feel that way, hard to not feel like you’re the sacrificial lamb of your generation. fellow women in motorsport know how impossible it is to earn your keep, let alone to climb the ranks into f1. you’ve raced with many women over the years, some equally as talented if not moreso. it’s hard to think back to the people you’ve left behind on your journey to the top, wondering why it was you who made it when there have been so many who have tried. maybe it’s why you race now with a chip on your shoulder. for you, there’s always been so much more at stake than the fame, glory and money. the community that built you and pushed you, all the women and girls watching you from the sidelines and at home, waiting for you to show the world what a woman can do in this sport. so you’ve been aggressive. you’ve been aggressive, bitchy, arrogant, and you fight to win.

you’ve come to accept that there are some things you can control speculation on and some things that you can’t - your personal relationships becoming media fodder being a main concern. you don’t need to hear what the world thinks about the highest scoring female driver in f1 history throwing away her shot because she got too soft on another driver. you didn’t want to be reduced to a relationship, real or fake.

what you once had with charles though .. that was real.

“fresh eyed and bushy tailed, they called me. what a load of shit,” you spit out, furiously walking out of the media pit. “i’m not a fucking squirrel.”

“i really don’t think they meant it like that y/n. doesn’t that just mean eager? or excited?” oscar follows closely behind. you're quick on your feet but he’s got the leg span of the jolly green giant. damn him.

“wouldn’t that be obvious, though? it’s my first race weekend in formula one, obviously i’m excited to be here. i could do without the woodland animal comparison.”

“you’re in alpine, maybe the clarification is needed,” he jokes. you huff under your breath and swat at his chest which only makes him laugh harder. “iron your face out, champ, or it’ll stay like that forever. then you’ll have all the reporters talking about your fine lines and wrinkles on the front pages tomorrow.”

that manages to get a laugh out of you. oscar always does, whether you want to or not. damn him again. “maybe that’s for the best, actually. they can talk about my premature aging instead of my tractor for a car.”

“that’s the spirit!” he chimes, voice mimicking the sound of the bell atop the cantina door as he holds it open for you to walk through.

it’s hard to recall a time before you and oscar were friends. you chock it up to him being raised with sisters the way he always seems to understand you. you were karting age when you first met the brown eyed boy, and you still teasingly tell the story to anyone who will listen how he followed you around that entire first day because he thought a girl racer was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. he pretends that never happened but you know the truth.

in a world that’s been so critical of your existence, oscar’s presence was a god-send in your most formative years as a driver. without his confidence in you and your abilities, you’re sure you would have given up on your f1 pipedream before even making it to formula 3.

you love him to bits, but you’ve got half a mind to pour your latte over his head as you bicker back and forth at the cantina coffee bar over cream and sugar.

“i get that you’re australian and all of you are weirdly anal about your coffee but that’s really not my problem, osc.”

“it’s blasphemy, really. is it even coffee at that point? you’re an athlete for godsake!”

“and you’re a thorn in my side. try adding some sugar to your coffee to help fix that bitter attitude of yours.”

a muffled laugh sounds on your left but you don’t bother to look over, too focused on grabbing a sleeve for your cup from the stack on the counter.

“remind me to never get on your bad side, y/n.” the voice gives you pause. the hand holding your cup starts to burn as your other hand hovers embarrassingly still over the stack of cup sleeves. when you finally turn your head towards the voice, it’s none other than charles leclerc standing next to you. you know who he is, of course, though you’ve never spoken directly to him. you blink once, and then twice, like a deer in headlights. maybe the woodland animal comparison from earlier was accurate after all. it feels like his eyes have an iron grip on you and you stand there frozen, unchanged. it’s a lighthearted, teasing gaze he gives you, lips curled into an easy smile that flatters him beautifully. you’re too dazed to push that thought away as it passes through your brain. another beat passes and you still haven’t said anything, or moved, something oscar clearly finds all too amusing.

“charles! what are you doing down here?” oscar’s hand claps onto your shoulder, making you jolt enough to snap out of whatever trance you had fallen in hurriedly looking away. you finally slip the sleeve on your cup before your fingers fall off. “i didn’t think you usually ate outside of the ferrari hospitality.”

“normally no, you’re right. like y/n here though,” you look back up at the mention of your name. it’s like a siren call the way it slides off his tongue. melodic, almost. “i like my coffee sweet. i’d be willing to bet that italians are worse about coffee than australians, so i come down here to avoid all of that.”

you speak before you realize you’re doing it, “you should tell them to shove it.” charles eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“shove it?”

“yeah. who gives a fuck? make it however you want. if they don’t like it just tell them to fuck off. that’s what i do with oscar. he’s annoying so he doesn’t listen, but they might.”

distantly you hear oscar choke out a laugh from behind you, clearly used to your candor. his hand that’s still on your shoulder half heartedly nudges you forward, clearly chastising you for speaking so freely. charles still has his eyebrows raised and watches amusedly as you take a sip from your cup. you raise your eyebrows back as if to say “what?”

something warm settles deep in your stomach when charles’ eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and the way he’s failing to hide his smile from your advice. “you think i should say that?”

“it’s what i would do.”

charles lets out a quiet hum at that, nodding along to your words. his eyes still flicker up and down your face, but you’re not sure if it’s purposeful or instinctual. his hand reaches out to you.

"i'm charles."

you take it, shaking it once before letting go. "i know."

“do whatever you’d like obviously,” you turn and start to walk past oscar to the door, reaching for your phone in your back pocket. “i guess i’ll know if you’re here again what you decide.” you throw a halfhearted wave in charles’ direction before you walk through the door. glancing down at your phone, you note that you’ve got enough time to run through strategy notes one more time before heading back to your hotel for the night, so you start walking in the direction of the alpine garage. after a minute or so, you hear rushed footsteps coming up from behind you.

“so.. what the hell was that?”

“don’t piss me off, osc.”

“okay well, you didn’t see his face after you walked out of there,”

“and i don’t want to hear about it either.” a lie. you’re a liar. but he continues anyway.

“or how he asked if we were ‘together’ while he wistfully watched you walk away. i seriously thought he forgot i was even standing there until he asked me that.”

there’s a little too much bite to your voice now as you quickly ask, “so what’d you say?”

“ew? what else could i say to that? i walked out right after.”

the sigh you let out comes from deep in your diaphragm. “you’re a pest, you know that?”

“a real pest would have said yes when he asked, he clearly wants you bad.” his sing songy tone of voice pisses you off even more than his words.

“i don’t have the patience for this.”

“you don’t have the patience for anything, it’s your most consistent character trait.” when you don’t answer, he tries again. “seriously, i don’t get the problem. there’s obviously chemistry there. i know you feel strongly about the world thinking you’re the virgin mary, and i get your reasons why, but they don’t need to know about what you do in private.”

you splinter off from him and start to walk into the alpine garage, tossing your dismissal over your shoulder, “this conversation is over, osc.”

notably, charles does not take your advice. he starts showing up in the cantina every race weekend like clockwork, something oscar finds hilarious. it’s even escalated so far as eating together when you’re all free to do so. you can’t fathom why charles would choose to eat with you and oscar when the ferrari catering must be far better than whatever the general cantina is serving. the last time you voiced that thought to oscar he called you an idiot, so you keep those thoughts to yourself now.

you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but you enjoy charles’ company. as silly as it might sound to others, it feels a little like giving up. you’ve done everything you could to build up your walls to protect you from scandal in f1, but it all comes crumbling over one boy with beautiful blue eyes? it makes your stomach churn a little with unease.

that’s not to say you felt good about pushing everyone away. the vast majority of the drivers have approached you since the start of the season to at least introduce themselves, though obviously not necessary. you know some of them from your karting days, so the formalities always laid limp to you. you know they’re just being nice, but you keep your usual bite with every conversation you have. it’s easier this way for everyone involved.

charles seems wholly unperturbed by your attitude which is almost more unsettling than his generally increasing presence in your life. he just won’t go away. calls you “refreshing” which feels like someone has poured ice cold water down the back of your shirt.

you were half convinced he was sticking around because he knew it was driving you crazy, but the more tooth-rotting coffee you drink together the more you’ve come to realize that he’s simply too nice to scheme like that. you haven’t been overtly mean in your time with him, albeit a little short and quick to leave the room when you felt uncomfortable, but that’s just second nature to you. leave it to you to attract the attention of the most popular driver on the grid when you’re trying to keep your head down in the media. you can hear oscar’s laugh ringing in your head like a school bell.

refreshing. who the hell does he think he is?

but you can’t deny that it’s nice. he’s nice. to sit across from someone else and have them ask you questions because they genuinely want to know the answers is nice. you’ve only ever really had oscar as a friend in the racing world and he knows you like the back of his hand—you’ve never wanted another friend, never needed one. but then again, no one has ever tried this hard.

you are at least self aware enough to acknowledge that there’s an edge to everything charles does and says to you. there’s a thrum of attraction flowing between both of you, another thing that makes you want to bury your head in the sand and never come back up for air. even if charles had successfully weasled his way into trying to be your friend, that’s all you could allow this to be. it already feels like too much. a crack in your facade.

you have enough to worry about, like how you’re about to race singapore in a billion degree heat in a brick for a car. you have half a mind to ask for an IV drip at the alpine hospitality just to prepare your body for how much fluid you’re going to lose. as you and oscar walk into the cantina on press day, charles is already standing to the side holding two cups. he hands one to you with a gentle, “let me know how it is” before you’re able to say anything.

you blink in his face, just like the day you met. oscar mumbles a “jesus christ” before stepping around you two to get his own. you take a sip and nod. it’s all you’re able to do when he looks at you like that. like you’re the first good thing he’s seen all day.

“it’s good?”

you hum in agreement. his 5 billion gigawatt smile lights up his face and he knocks his cup against yours. “cheers.”

the pit in your stomach grows.

the rest of the day goes on without incident. you finished the ferrari hq tour feeling like the pope, shaking hands and kissing babies. the crowd of tifosi roar as you walk outside and you wave to as many people as you can before you’re pushed into the car waiting to take you back. it’s hard not to feel like this is the world fattening you up like a pig before the slaughter. there’s no higher pedestal to fall from. your lifelong dream of racing in red finally realized, only no one really believes in your ability to stay there. not even yourself. even oscar has a hard time remaining positive about it. your phone lights up with another text from him.

“he didnt say anything?????? wdym?”

you sigh, locking your phone before resting your temple against the car window.

you foolishly let your mind wander to charles. what he thinks of you being there, whether he thinks of you at all. how he could look so sad standing next to you on stage when he’s the reason you haven’t spoken in months. you aren’t even sure what you’d want to hear if you asked him. he said enough in cota last year to speak for a lifetime. you only wish you could forget it.

another ding brings your train of thought to a screeching halt.

“hi y/n. it’s charles. are you able to meet me for coffee tomorrow before we go in for marketing shots?”

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #*my writing

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emoisthenewemu · 4 hours ago

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VIDEO GAMES

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TOGE INUMAKI X F! READER SMAU

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt12.5, pt13, pt14, pt15, pt16, pt17, pt18, pt19

A/N THERE IS VERY IMPORTANT TEXT AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. HEHE I WAS SO HAPPY WRITING THIS

Pt.20 “No Funny Business!"

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

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Toge has no reason to be this nervous. It's his mom you're meeting after all. And you-well you are just an angel who was dropped from heaven above right into his lap. He likes to think you are his reward for being cursed, he may not be able to talk properly but at least he has you. You made his whole life change in a way he never thought possible. He is constantly reminded of how gracious he is to you for bothering to get close to him in the first place. Most do not. Most people cower away at the sight of a cursed speech user, sure to cover up his markings so it is not automatically noticeable. He likes that you always pull the collars of his sweater down, sometimes pull off his scarf completely so you can get a better look at him. You're the only person to ever study him so closely, it makes him feel seen. You appreciate him in the most innocent way possible.

The bombardment of thoughts are enough to put him at ease, his leg ends it shaking. He only grips your hand tight and takes a deep breath before stepping out to greet his mom. He hugs her and is immediately comforted, a warm feeling in his chest only his momma can ever bring. He missed her, he always does. Toge's a momma's boy through and through.

It makes you happy to see, you've never seen him smile so bright before. And his mom is sure to tug down his collar to get a look at her 'handsome boy'. Then, she averts her attention to you, standing there with your hands clasped together in front of you. "Hi! So nice to meet you!"

She hugs you tightly, wordlessly. Her hair and eyes are the same color as Toge, the same markings on her cheeks. She's a beautiful woman, striking purple eyes which now feel like home to you. "You know you raised such a good boy, Toge's the sweetest"

She pulls apart, a smirk on her face. 'You don't have to lie, sweetheart' She signs.

And you laugh, Toge rolls his eyes. His mother pops the trunk and gestures for him to grab the bags, both of your bags-she is very clear on that. She ushers you to the car, a comforting hand wrapped around your arm and the most kind-hearted smile you can ever imagine. For a moment you feel the same comfort your own mother gave you, you suppose it's in every mom's nature to feel this way. Most of them at least. Taking one last look at you she sighs contently, a hand going to pat your shoulder.

'You're so beautiful' She signs, a warmth fills your chest.

'So are you' You sign back.

Toge's mom always wanted a daughter. She loooves her boys but never ceased to remind them that she wants a girl. So if one of them would please hurry up and get a girlfriend so she can fill that void in her life. (Her words exactly). She excitedly shows you around the house, commenting every so often on how happy she is that you actually know sign language. Sometimes she gets a little too excited and signs her words a bit too fast-you have to ask her to slow down a bit but you understand. Most of the time at least. She promises to help you get better, not before thanking you again for actually working on sign language for her son. When you tell her all about it, how you crave another way to understand him it makes her tear up a bit.

'He's very lucky to have you' She signs.

You bake cookies your first night. From scratch, just like you wanted, the same way you use to for your family. She shows you Toge's baby pictures, you squeal excitedly as the two of you look through the photos, cooing at how cute he is.

'Look how much he use to love me' She signs, pulling up a rather adorable photo of him practically hanging off the side of his mom's head, both of his chubby arms wrapped around her-a big grin on his round little face.

'I still do!' He signs back and she signs something you can't quite understand.

Toge gasps. 'Language!'

It is clear who he gets his sense of humor from. When she bids the two of you goodnight she is sure to make it very clear that all bedroom doors are to stay open should the two of you decide to stay up together. 'No funny business!' She signs before heading up to her room. You promise you'll be on your best behavior and after a quick elbow to the side so does Toge.

You take a shower and get settled in, lucky enough to sleep in Toge's bedroom. He takes his brother's room although he doesn't plan on staying there most of the time. He has it all planned out, his mom's a heavy sleeper-he swears he'll set an alarm for early in the morning and sneak out with no problem. He does it in the dorms all the time!

You scold him, slapping his chest and trying to rack it into his brain that you will not break any of his mom's rules. "I don't want her to hate me!" You argue.

'She'd be mad at me! Not you!'

You grab his hands, stopping him from signing anything else stupid. "Go shower. Now!"

You hang with her one day, and you're already starting to sound like his mom. He groans. Shooing him away, you do your nightly routine. Followed by hooking up your PlayStation to the tv so the two of you can play some zombies later on. His room is cozy, exactly what you expected it to be. Scattered with video game and anime posters, a few figurines placed neatly on some shelves. Some of them look more valuable than others, you wonder how long he'd been collecting them for. You giggle when you see the cutest little photo of baby Toge, in middle school maybe. He had braces, how did you not know this before?

Pulling out your phone you snap a quick picture-for your eyes only. And he catches you in the act, clearing his throat. Water is still dripping from his head, in nothing but his pajama pants and his towel wrapped around his shoulders. He walks past you, the scent of his soap invading your nostrils. Your eyes follow as he reaches over into one of his drawers to grab a shirt. Your head cocks to the side as you watch the way his back muscles contort, hm. He's been working out lately.

Turning around to find you staring he laughs, pulling the t-shirt over his head. 'You like?'

You cross your arms, rolling your eyes although the smirk on your face betrays you completely. So does the burning of your cheeks. "I wasn't even looking!"

Toge takes a few steps closer, uncrossing your arms and pulling you close. His arms wrap around your waist, you can feel a trace of his breath on your lips. Your heartbeat speeds up in response. "I think you did it on purpose" You giggle, he guides your hands to wrap around his neck. "You love the attention don't you?"

Forgetting his shirt, yeah right. It's not the first time he did something like this. You said he had a nice body once and he ran with it ever since. Caught red-handed he decides not to argue any longer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He laughs, you love the sound of his laugh.

In the solace of each other's arms you remain, rocking side to side lightly as sometimes it still feels like it may never be enough. Even with his body pressed right against yours, he still craves you. He wants to be closer, if that was possible.

His next movements are automatic, hands going up to cup your face as you look up at him with wide eyes. That is one thing about Toge, you never know what his next move may be. You just have to wait and find out, it excites you in a way.

He pulls his hands down. 'I like you' He signs, pulling his hands apart as far as he can. 'So much' The space between his hands is supposed to represent how much he likes you, they extend out as much as he can possibly reach them.

You giggle and his hands find their way back to you. One rests comfortably on your back, the other brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. "That much?" You ask incredulously.

He nods, truth is he likes you way more than that. 'Like' may not be a strong enough word to explain it all.

"Well I like you more" You bring a hand to his chest, over his heart. It comforts you that his is beating as fast as yours is, you can practically feel it in your throat.

Toge is usually a nervous wreck, it took weeks for his first interaction with you. And when the two of you did eventually hang out more, it was you that initiated it. You are the one who asked for his phone number, who stalked his twitter, who sat next to him in class because you 'wanted someone to entertain you'. Had it not been for you chasing him back to his dorm that one night, forcing him to sit there and hear you out who knows what may have happened. The two of you might not be standing in his childhood bedroom, one he only dreamed of inviting a pretty girl like you into. As far as flirting goes, he's never been very good at it. He remembers the pit in his stomach every time he would send you a slightly risky text. The way he would screenshot his replies and send them to Panda or Yuuta first just to make sure he wasn't doing too much.

But in this moment he needs no convincing, everything is in his favor. Although he'd never kissed a girl before he feels confident in his abilities-it's you. Everything involving you has come so naturally.

His lips crash into yours, a bit sloppy and inexperienced but still good. You bunch up a bit of his shirt and pull him closer, his fingers brush across the expanse of your smooth back beneath the oversized shirt you have on. It makes you shiver.

The kiss deepens, a hand goes to your jaw, holding you in place because he has decided you are not going anywhere. Never again, he's completely content being stuck to your side for the rest of his life. And when you feel a little 'zap!' you gasp and jump back, a hand goes to your lip where you felt the spark.

Toge looks at you with wide eyes, hands running up and down your sides, touching your forehead and face worriedly. 'You okay?'

You nod, laughing at the unfamiliar feeling. "Just caught me off guard" You insist, closing the gap between your bodies once again.

'Did I hurt you?' The concern in his eyes is not lost on you.

You pout, poor Toge. He looks so scared. But your sweet smile puts him at ease. "I'm okay" You peck his lips softly, reassuringly. "I promise"

"Do it again please"

He does not need to be told again before attacking you in kisses. You kiss until both of your lips are swollen, hair disheveled, soft little laughs between each movement. You stay awake until the Sun comes up, going between playing games to stealing kisses from one another. The first thing Toge does upon entering his brother's room is open up his group chat.

Panda and Yuuta have been waiting for this day to come.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

TAGLIST: @toge1numak1 @love-me-satoru @strxwberrycandi @slutlight2ndver @walllflowerrrsss @restrictionsapply @lloversss @b1borian @geektastic84 @tenthmilo @entr4p3 @reblogwhoreowo @idexmids @uracutieraka @linaaeatsfamilies @tbfaptbfae @megumikeeptalkingimalmostthere @samisfunky @choso-loverrr @cloca-cola @vamppirez @syarc0re @angel04-01 @daizyysdumb @ventraia @2dmenfr @adrnmyknight @blueghostgirl1 @aphroditesworld15 @alisoncdariel @bumi-writes @aikojwhpa @swoozleee

LMK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED!

#jjk x reader #jjk smau #inumaki smau #inumaki x reader #toge inumaki #toge inumaki smau #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki toge #jujutsu kaisen smau

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samanthacastano02 · 7 hours ago

Text

He calls you clingy - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x FemReader

Trigger Warnings: Cussing, sickness, hospitalization, angry Chan, angry skz (at Chan), protective Hannah, medical inaccuracy, throwing up, surgery, probably more.

Word Count: 6.6k

Summary: You have been dating Chan for two years, you were on tour with him and were in Australia with him. You had been feeling sick but didn’t know why, you had gone to Chan for comfort but he got angry at you and called you clingy. When you start to feel more sick you don’t go to him for help, but end up going to Hannah. It’s not until you end up in the hospital that Chan realizes that something is seriously wrong. Will things be ok between the two of you or will things be over for good?

Screenshot Count: 9

Photo's not mine (Except for texting screenshots), credit goes to photographers

I had met Chan three years ago but had been dating him for two years. Those have been the best two years of my life. He has been so sweet and caring, always taking care of my needs and wanting to make sure I’m happy. I loved him with all of my heart and I knew that he felt the same, but recently he had been super stressed because the company had been on his ass because of their upcoming comeback and their upcoming tour. I was doing my best to support him and be there for him in any way that I can, I made sure to help keep his and Innie’s dorm room clean, I made sure to cook for the boys so that they had good and healthy meals and I tried to make sure that Channie got as much sleep as he could.

Present:

Their tour had started back in August and they were all super stressed, thanks to my job I was able to travel around with them. I was staying out of the way as much as I could so that I didn’t add even more stress to Chan, I knew how stressful touring could be for him and he didn’t need the stress of his girlfriend added onto the stress of tour and managing seven other guys. I knew that he was looking forward to seeing his family when they were in Australia. I had only ever met his family once, and from what I could tell they liked me but I still wanted them to actually like me because one day I wanted to marry their son. The one good thing is that Hannah, his younger sister absolutely adored me and she and I talked almost every day.

When she heard that I would be joining them in Australia she was over the moon, threatening to steal me from Chan the entire time. I laughed at that, Chan did as well but it didn’t seem like his normal laugh and I didn’t know how to feel about it. He seemed more agitated than normal and I didn’t know what to do about that. I didn’t want to over step because I knew that this was his space and his element because he’s been on tour before. I’m hoping that once Channie gets to see his family he’ll be better because I know that he hasn’t seen them in forever and I also know that he misses them.

In Australia:

I can tell that Chan is in a little bit of a better mood with the knowledge that he’ll get to see his family in a few hours. I'm also excited because I’ll get to see them again and I’ll get to see Hannah, and she’s been begging for me to come visit her even if Chan couldn’t come with me. After the boys all got set up and comfortable at the house the company rented for them, Chan and I were able to go and visit his family. I was super excited but it almost seemed like Chan was annoyed that I was going with him. I wanted to ask him what was wrong but I didn’t want to upset him at the same time.

“Channie, are you excited to see your family?” I ask Chan as he drives him and I to his parents house.

“Yeah I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to see them.”

“I’m sure that they are just as excited to see you.”

“Yea.” His response was shorter than I expected, we didn’t talk for the rest of the drive.

When we arrived at his parents house, they were already waiting outside for us, waiting to greet us with open arms. I waited off to the side while he greeted his parents, watching as he finally got to see his family. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I watched the happy reunion, when he finally let go of his parents they made their way over to me and gave me the tightest hug ever. Before I could even turn around I could hear Hannah yelling my name as she was running towards me, I barely had time to prepare myself as she was barreling into me.

“Y/n, you’re finally here!!” Hannah yells, hugging me.

“Hi, Hannah. It’s so good to finally see you again.” “We are so hanging out while you are here. Forget about my brother.”

“Do I even get a hug?” Chan asks, pretending to be offended, or I hope that he’s pretending to be offended

“Of course you do, I just had to give my favorite girl a hug.” Hannah answers her brother as she gives him a hug.

“While you two are staying with us, you guys can stay in Chris’s old childhood bedroom. We made sure it was all set up and ready for you.” Chris’s mom mentioned when the hello’s were all said and done.

“Aw, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” I respond to Jessica as she leads us into the house.

After we got settled in and had dinner we all had settled into the living room, Chan was on the floor getting some love from Berry. I was sneakily getting some photos of it, he was having the time of his life finally getting to be with her and I could tell that she was also excited to see him. As it got later, I could tell that Chan wasn’t ready for bed but I was getting tired so I kissed him on the head before heading up to his room. I ignored it when he slightly pulled away from the kiss, ever since we left Korea, he had been acting so weird and I didn’t know why or what to do about it but I didn’t want to mention anything while we were with his family.

I don’t know what time Chan came to bed but I woke up in the middle of the night to him holding me, I felt cramping in my stomach and was super nauseous. I worked slowly to crawl out of the bed so that I didn’t wake up Chan, once I was out of the bed I ran into the bathroom and threw up. I don’t know how long I was in there before slowly making my way back into Chan’s room, when I got back into bed Chan rolled over and pulled me back into him.

“You were gone for a minute, are you feeling ok?” He asked, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I think so. I didn’t feel good, but I feel better now.”

“Do you need anything from me?” He wakes up slightly more.

“No, I think I’m ok. If I need anything I’ll get it.”

“No love, if you need anything please tell me.” “Alright, alright. If I need anything I will tell you.”

“Thank you.”

The next morning, when I woke up I still felt sick but I didn’t want to ruin Chan’s concert and I also didn’t want to worry him. So I did my best to hide the amount of pain that I was in, but as the day progressed and we got closer to having to leave for the concert the pain got even worse. I didn’t know what was wrong and it was starting to scare me, I knew that I should say something but I couldn’t. I couldn’t take the attention off of Chan, it was his moment, it was his day and my needs could wait until after the concert. If things got to be too bad, I could always leave early and go to the ER on my own. I didn’t need to worry Chan when he should be spending time with his family. While waiting for things to get ready, I tried to find comfort by cuddling with Chan. Any time that he needed to go and do something I would follow him, wanting his warmth and comfort, especially when I don’t feel good. But after a while, it seemed that he got tired of the fact that I was so attached to him, following him everywhere and not giving him the space that he wanted. He ended up pulling me to the side, away from the guys and his family.

“What is going on with you today?” Chan asked me as soon as we were alone.

“What do you mean?”

“You have been attached to my hip all day, I get you didn’t feel good last night but jesus. I have not had a minute to breathe.”

“I’m sorry.” “You have been up my ass all day, I need space.”

“I’m sorry Channie, I just haven’t felt good. You make me comfy so I went to you for comfort, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“There is a difference between wanting comfort from me y/n and being clingy, and dammit y/n you are being so damn clingy. It’s making me question why the fuck I even asked you to come on this tour in the first place.”

“What?”

“I mean seriously y/n. You are always there. I don’t think there has gone a day where I haven’t seen you since this fucking tour started, I know you said you were somewhat clingy when we first started dating but this is a whole different level of clingy.”

“Chris, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be clingy.”

“Just give me some fucking space.” I go to respond but I feel a sharp shooting pain in my right side, the kind of pain that takes my breath away and I don’t have the chance to even respond to Chan before he’s walking out of the room.

I don’t try to call out to him because I know that it’ll just anger him even more and I don’t want to make him even more angry before he has to perform. Tears well up in my eyes and I’m left struggling to find my way to a place to sit down, I don’t hear anyone enter the room. I stumble trying to make it to where I know there’s a couch, I feel hands on my arms helping me to the couch. The tears are streaming down my cheeks so hard and fast now that I can’t make out who it was that helped me, until they speak to me asking if I was ok and if I needed anything.

“Y/nnie, are you ok?” Felix’s deep but comforting voice sounded from my right side. I tried to respond but the pain was so bad that all I could do was sob.

“Felix, I really think that we need to get Channie Hyung.” Han’s voice sounds from my left.

“NO, please don’t bother him.” I panic when I hear that they want to get Chan.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want us to get him? Why are you crying so hard?” Felix asks, sounding even more worried.

“H-he and I-I got into a huge fight and I don’t want to cause him any more trouble. P-please don’t bother him. I’ll be ok.”

“Y/n, I’ve never seen you cry this hard. It’s scaring me.” Han says as he rubs my back.

“I just have some cramping. That time of the month must have come sooner than I thought, it caught me off guard. I’ll be ok, boys, I promise.” I try to reassure them.

“Alright y/nnie, I’ll believe you but if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask either of us for help, ok?” Felix says, making sure that I know I can ask him for help.

“I know, now go. You guys have to go on soon. I’m just going to lay down here for a while, maybe take a nap and see how I feel about half way through the concert.” “Alright, if we can’t help, don’t hesitate to ask one of the staff for help. They’ll be able to either help you or get one of us to be able to help you.” ‘Alright, I promise that if I need help for any reason I will either ask the staff or you two for help, ok.” I say, still crying pretty heavily.

“Get some rest y/nnie.” both Felix and Han say as they walk out of the room.

I lay down, still crying, I don’t know how long I was laying down but at some point I must have fallen asleep because soon I woke up in even more pain than I was in before. All of it was centralized on my right side, I cried out in pain, feeling like I was going to pass out from the pain. Through the waves of pain I texted the one person I could think of who might be able to help me right now, because as much as I wanted to ask the staff or the boys I knew that they were all busy with the concert and I wasn’t about to do anything to piss Chan off anymore than he already was. Through blurred vision I texted Hannah.

Start of texts with Hannah:

I listen to Hannah and text Han to see if he can help me to the back entrance of the stadium so that Hannah doesn’t have to worry about security. Thankfully when I text him, he responds right away.

Before another response comes in from Han he’s bursting into the room and he looks concerned and terrified. I try to reassure him that I’m ok but another wave of pain hits me and I try to keep the tears from falling. But it doesn’t work, Han doesn’t say anything and rushes out of the room. I don’t try to call after him, when he returns he has Chan in tow, if I wasn’t in so much pain I would have cringed at the fact that he went and got Chan.

“What’s wrong now?” Chan asks, clearly upset about the fact that I’m crying.

“Chan, I’m sorry that Han went and got you. It’s nothing to worry about, go back and watch the boys perform.” I grit out through the pain, tears still streaming down my face.

“Well I’m here now, so why did Han come get me in a panic?”

“I told him not to, he didn’t need to bother you Chan. I’m sorry that he bothered you Chan.”

“Jesus Christ y/n, will you just tell me why the fuck you are crying and why Han came to get me.” I jump slightly at his angry tone.

“Chan Hyung, calm down. There’s no need to get angry at her.” Han tries to defend me, but it just makes Chan even more angry.

“Fuck y/n, I asked for space and you couldn’t even give me that. You just had to get the boys involved.”

“Chan she didn’t get me involved, it’s clear that she’s in pain.” Han tries to reason with Chan.

“Whatever, unless it’s life threatening I’m going to go watch the boys perform. Y/n I’ll deal with you later, because for some reason you cannot find it in yourself to not be clingy for half a night.”

“Chan, what the fuck.” Han looks at Chan mortified.

“Han, mind your manners.”

“Not when you speak to your girlfriend like that.”

“I am your Hyung, you will show respect.”

“And she is your girlfriend and you aren’t showing her any respect. So fuck you, Chris, leave. I will help your girlfriend. She doesn’t need whatever negative energy you have right now.” Han ignored Chan as he walked over to me, helping me stand but when a wave of pain caused my legs to buckle he lifted me and carried me out of the room, towards the back of the arena where we would wait for Hannah until she got here.

While we waited, Han tried his best to help alleviate the pain but it didn’t do much. I was in so much pain now that I was sobbing, staff around us were concerned about what was going on but didn’t ask and Han didn’t offer up any reason as to why I was sobbing so hard. When Hannah finally pulled up, he immediately got me into her front seat, telling her to break as many traffic laws as possible, call ahead and explain what was happening because something was seriously wrong and I needed to get to the ER as soon as possible. As soon as he saw Hannah and I drive away he was rushing back inside to confront Chan, and let the others know about what had happened.

Han’s POV:

Once I texted the groupchat, I walked around the backstage area until I found where Chan Hyung was. I don’t know what happened between him and his girlfriend but I don’t care what it was, it doesn’t give him the right to ever treat his girlfriend the way that he did. He said that we should always treat the people we care about with respect and the way he treated her was not with respect. When I finally find him, he’s at the drink cooler getting a water, I can tell that he’s still angry and honestly at this point I’m glad that he is because fuck him for how he treated y/n. She is an angel and has done nothing but love him and that’s how he treated her? Fuck that, he doesn’t get to get away with that, even if he is my Hyung. When he spots me, I can see the anger return to his eyes ten fold.

“Han, we need to talk. Now.” He gestures to the room where y/n had been resting.

“Yes, we do.” I follow him into the room, leaving the door open enough for someone to hear in case someone passes by. I don’t think Chan would ever hurt me but still.

“What the fuck was that? Disrespecting me in front of my girlfriend?”

“Chan Hyung, respect goes both ways. Y/n couldn’t stand up for herself at the time and you were disrespecting her.”

“It is not your place to decide whether or not I was respecting her or not.”

“She was in obvious pain and you were yelling at her.”

“She was being dramatic to get you on her side because of our fight.”

“No Chris, no she wasn’t.” “Han, I will not say it again. Watch your manners. She was acting, she has been so fucking clingy this entire tour and then today it has been ten times worse, I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t do anything without her being right fucking there.” “She was in pain, Chris. She went to you for comfort and you called her Clingy.” “Chan Hyung called y/nnie clingy?” Minho asks from the doorway, having just finished his solo.

“Yes. I was in here to bring her out back so that Hannah could pick her up. I was worried because she mentioned going to the ER so I went to get Chan Hyung and he walked in talking about how he asked for space and how she couldn’t even give him that and that she was clingy.” I explain to Minho, forgetting that I hadn’t told Chan that y/n was going to the ER.

“Y/nnie is going to the ER?” Minho asks worried about y/n’s health.

“Y/n called my fucking sister?” Chan asks, angry that y/n bothered his sister.

“She was in so much pain Minho Hyung that I had to carry her out to Hannah’s car, her legs buckled from the pain.” I respond to Minho, ignoring Chan completely.

“She’s fucking acting to get attention. Because I wouldn’t give her attention, she’s trying to get attention from everyone else.” Chan tries to cut in, I go to respond but Minho, usually respectful of Chan but extremely protective of y/n answers before I can.

“Chan Hyung, kindly shut the fuck up. When in your entire relationship has y/n ever acted out in an attempt to get someone’s attention? When has she ever acted this way?” Minho asks Chan angrily. Chan, shocked that Minho talked to him this way, doesn't know how to respond, so he just walks out of the room. Minho, worried about y/n, creates a groupchat with everyone but Chan so that the others are aware of what’s going on.

As I’m about to go back onto stage, and before I hand my phone over to one of the managers, I get a message from Hannah that makes my stomach drop to my feet

Your POV:

Hannah had called ahead to the hospital, letting them know that we were coming and what my symptoms were. When we got there they were waiting for me with a gurney, they didn’t wait for Hannah, they rushed me back into the ER. I was in so much pain now that I didn’t even know what was happening to me, so out of it that I could barely respond to the questions that they were asking me. Finally they allowed Hannah to come back into the room with me and she was able to answer some of the questions for me. When they took me for some of the tests, she was able to answer any of the unanswered text messages from the guys. There were none from Chan, and that pissed her off. They started an iv on me and soon were taking me off to get a ct scan, because all of the symptoms that I had given them sounded like I had appendicitis and they were worried that my appendix had ruptured. They never ended up taking me back into the emergency room, room that they had me in initially, they had to take me into emergency surgery because when they looked at the ct they saw that my appendix had ruptured and was leaking toxins into my body. While they prepared me for surgery they went back into the room where Hannah was and explained to her what was happening.

Hannah’s POV:

While y/n had gone to get her ct, I tried my best to respond to any messages that she had gotten from any of the guys. It was maybe 20 minutes later when the nurse came back into the room, without y/n. I tried to look around for her but I couldn’t see her, and the nurse looked concerned.

“Where’s y/n?” I asked the nurse.

“Y/n is being prepped for surgery.”

“What?” “When we got the results of her CT scan, it showed that her appendix had ruptured.” “Oh god.” “If she had waited any longer to come in, things could have been much worse for her. She’s not out of the woods yet, but her odds are a little bit better now.” “Thank you for letting me know. Should I wait here for her to get out of surgery, or is there somewhere else?”

“Because it ruptured, she will have to stay overnight for observation. So I will take you to her hospital room.” “Thank you.” “Of course, just follow me.”

I get up and follow her, worried about y/n and what will happen to her and wondering if Chan knew about what was happening. I let Han know, so I knew that he would let the others know, but I knew that I should probably text my brother. Just let him know that his girlfriend was here and that she was in surgery. But when I went to text him, I already had a text from him and it was not what I was expecting.

I don’t respond to any more of his texts because soon, they bring y/n back in from her surgery. She’s still out and they mention that she might still be out for a while due to the pain meds that they have her on, I let the others know that she was out of surgery and then put my phone away so that I could focus my attention on y/n. I wanted to be aware in case she woke up and needed me for anything, I also knew that the boys would let Chan know and would get here on their own.

Bang Chan’s POV:

I was putting away my gear for tonight's concert when I.N came up to me, he looked concerned and almost worried about the fact that he was going to have to talk to me. I stopped what I was doing so that I could give him my full attention, I hadn’t checked my phone since my last conversation with Han.

“Channie Hyung, have you checked your phone recently?”

“No, why?” “Hannah, has been trying to text you.” “She has?” “It’s about y/n.” “Jesus, not this again.” “Chan, I respect you but this is getting out of hand. Why are you treating y/n this way? If you are so sick and tired of her, why not just end things? Why continue to get annoyed with her, and treat her the way that you have been?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you not see the way that you have been treating her?” “No? I haven’t been treating her any differently than I do when we are home.” I look at I.n confused.

“Yes you do. You get annoyed with her super easily, you don’t want to spend as much time with her, you try to spend as much time away from her as possible now.”

“That’s not true.” “But it is Chan. You have gotten annoyed with her for every little thing, she has begun to distance herself from the group Chan.”

“I haven’t been doing that, have I?” “Chan, you know I respect you as a leader. But if you continue to treat y/n like this, you are going to lose her, if you haven’t already. This might have been her final straw.”

“That can’t be true.” “You need to try to make it up to her before she gets out of the hospital. So go, we will finish up here.” “Thank you, Innie. I owe you one.”

“No, you owe the guys one because they only sent me because they know you have a soft spot for me. If I had it my way, you would be cleaning up on your own while we went to see her.” “You're really pissed with me aren’t you.” “Yeah, I am. You disrespected Mom. She has done so much for you and this group and this is how you repaid her. She didn’t deserve this, you’ll be lucky if she stays with your dumbass. You also owe an apology to Han and Minho Hyung who tried to get it into your thick head that you were being an ass and you disrespected them and pulled the leader card on them.” “Your right Innie, I do owe them an apology. And once I get my girl back, I will give them a huge apology.” “Good, now go get your girl.”

I don’t respond to innie and instead run out to one of the cars that we had rented. Rushing to one of the 24 hour marts that were close to the hospital that y/n was at, before rushing to y/n. I didn’t want to show up empty handed. I knew that Hannah was upset with me and she had every right to be upset with me, y/n had an even bigger reason to be upset with me. I was an ass to her and when she came to me for comfort, I turned her away and called her clingy. God, how could I have called her clingy? She is the least clingy person that I know and I had the audacity to call her clingy.

When I got to the hospital after stopping by the store, I ran up to her room as quickly as I could. Before I could enter her room, Hannah stopped me. I could tell that she was not happy with me, she must have been talking with the others and they must have told her what happened.

“Hannah, please let me see her.” I practically beg my younger sister.

“Why should I?”

“I know I was an ass to her, I want to apologize.” “You don’t deserve that angel of a woman, but for some unknown reason she wants you.”

“You're right Hannah, I don’t deserve her. I’ve never deserved her, especially after how I’ve treated her today.”

“No you don’t deserve her after how you’ve been treating her this entire tour but she’s been too nice to even talk to you about how much it’s been affecting her. Because she doesn’t want to cause more issues for you, she didn’t want to be even more of an issue for you.” “What?”

“You have been an ass to her since August, but she’s kept it to herself because she loves you and didn’t want to add more stress to you. And the one day that she needed your support, you blew up on her and called her clingy. So please, do tell me why I should let you in to see her?” “You’re right, I shouldn’t get to see her but I am begging you to let me make this right.” “You are lucky that I love her and that she still wants to be with you.” “Thank you, Hannah.”

Your POV:

I wake up, still in pain but nowhere near the same amount of pain that I had been in when I had passed out? Did I pass out, I don’t recognize where I am. As I look around the room I am in I realize that I’m in a hospital room. When I look down, I see that I still have an iv in my arm, I also feel a heavy weight in my hand. I see that it’s another hand, a hand that doesn’t belong to me. I follow the hand and see that it belongs to Chan, the poor man is slumped over in a chair next to my bed holding onto my hand tightly but not enough to hurt. I move my hand, trying to wake him up but not enough to startle him, but he still startles awake when he does wake up.

“Y/n! You’re awake!” Chan jumps up when he sees that I’m awake.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened, I’m so sorry.” “You don’t have to be here Chan, it’s fine. You wanted your space.” “Baby, I am so sorry that I said that to you. I didn’t mean it.”

“But you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have said it.” “No love, I didn’t mean it. I was stressed and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that and I regret it so much.” “Chan, you called me clingy. I needed help and you called me clingy. I thought I could rely on you and I couldn’t.” “Yes, you can rely on me. I promise that you can.”

“How can I trust that I can rely on you?”

“Give me the chance to prove that you can rely on me. Please love.” “I don’t know if I can trust you again.” “Give me the chance to prove it, please baby please.” Chan practically begs me.

“You get one chance, Chan. If you mess up again, that’s it. I’m done.” “I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me.”

Epilogue:

After I was released from the hospital Chan spared no effort in making sure I knew how sorry he was and was so attentive that it almost got tiring but I had missed how caring he was before the tour. It was like seeing the old Chan again, the boys and Hannah gave him shit for being an ass to me and made sure he knew that he was in the wrong, he had to apologise to both Han and Minho. It was interesting to see him apologize to them, but you could tell that he was truly sorry and that he felt bad for how he had treated them.

When we left Chan’s parents house I wasn’t allowed to lift anything, so the boys carried everything for me. Chan kept me close to him, even in the airport which was odd for us because normally when we travelled he still kept space between us because he didn’t want me to get bombarded by fans even though they did know about us. With me having surgery, he kept me close to his side, with Changbin and Hyunjin on my side and in front of me to try and protect me as much as possible from injuring my incision. The entire rest of the tour he continued to prove that he was sorry and that he would never treat me that way again. At the end of the day, he gave me permission to and I quote ‘hit him with a car’ if he ever dared to treat me that way again.

When we got to the last stop of the tour, he wanted to take me on a date. Because of how busy he had been, we hadn’t much time to spend just the two of us. So I happily agreed, dressing up in a cute dress while he dressed up in a nice pair of jeans and a nice button down. He took me out to dinner, and after we went on a walk.

“Love, I just want to thank you again for giving me another chance to show you how sorry I am for the way that I treated you.” Chan said as he pulled me to a stop in front of him.

“You’ve proven yourself Channie.”

“Still, thank you baby.” I don’t know what to say to him so I wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his chest.

He doesn’t say anything, resting his head on my head while I keep my arms tightly wrapped around him. The trust isn’t all the way back but it’s starting to come back, and I know that one day that trust will be stronger than it was before. I love him with all of my heart and I want him to know that. So I surprise him by leaning up, kissing him on the lips, I hear his breath catch in shock before he kisses me back. I wrap my arms around his neck while his arms around my waist, pulling me into him and deepening the kiss.

“Love, I want to make you a promise.” Chan says as he presses his head to my head.

“What’s that love?”

“I want to promise that I will always love you, I will never treat you the way I did from August to October. You mean everything to me.” “You mean everything to me too, Channie.”

He leans down to kiss me again, when he kisses me this time I swear it’s different than every other time. I love this man with everything that I have and things may not be perfect but I know that everything will be ok in the end.

#bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan x y/n #bang chan hurt/comfort #bang chan x reader angst #bang chan imagines #bang chan x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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neo127 · 14 hours ago

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pairing. spider-man!sim jaeyun x gn!artist!reader genre. fluff cw. none! notes. i love writing jake as spider-man it’s so fun

archive

“how about these?” you asked, holding up your sketchbook full of different spider-man suit designs. jake's face lit up as he observed the different ideas you had come up for him.

considering that you were the only person in his life who knew about his powers, jake often talked your ear off about anything spider-man related. you loved it, often offering the boy solutions or just simply listening to whatever he had to say.

recently, jake told you about how he wanted something different for his new suit. his current one had ripped badly during a fight with doc ock and he needed to come up with something new and quick. being an artist, who often dabbled in sewing and fashion in general, you offered to help.

“i know you said you wanted to keep the red and blue, but i was thinking that the red and black could also be cool. and maybe having a white or black spider emblem where the legs extend across the suit.” you explained, flipping a page and pointing to the drawing. jake looked at you with a sparkle in his eyes, making you squirm from the intense eye contact.

“would you mind making it for me? i swear i’ll buy you matcha for like, a month.” jake begged before getting on his knees in front of your sitting figure while gripping onto your legs. you held back a laugh and pretended to think, tapping your pencil against your chin for effect.

“…make it two months and we have a deal.” you joked, but jake perked up and grabbed your hand in a rough handshake.

“deal!” he was excited, very excited considering that his old suit had been torn to shreds. he had seen your work at your school fashion shows and exhibits, you were really good.

“don’t worry, i’ll help with the technology that goes into the suit, all i need from you is the design part.” jake explained, helping you up from the grass before dusting you off. your cheeks warmed up quickly from his touch and you tried to avoid his eyes as much as you could.

“i’ll start on it tonight, i finished my homework earlier today so.." you were cut off by a swift kiss on the cheek. the action made your breath catch in your throat and you turned your head towards jake. he looked just as flustered as you felt and you wondered if he even thought the kiss through.

"sorry it's just...you're amazing, really. thank you for helping me with all of my sider-man stuff, i couldn't do all of this without you." jake spoke up first, his voice shaking a bit. his nervousness was endearing, and you couldn't help but lean down and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"of course, i'll always be there for you." you replied before walking off with your things. jake watched as you go, his heart hammering in his chest ten times faster and a small smile slowly forming on his face.

#enhypen #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha scenarios #enhypen fluff #sim jake imagines #sim jake x reader #sim jake fluff #jake x reader #jake sim fluff #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #enhypen jake

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slaymitchabernathy · 3 days ago

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First Date

| after getting a request for this, i just knew this had to get done!!! |

To walk through the front gates of the President's Mansion takes a lot of guts, which is why Ceraphina's admiration for her future boyfriend grows stronger and stronger as he climbs the steps to the front door.

Plutarch Heavensbee might just be the love of her life. He just doesn't know it yet.

But to find out, to know if he's the one, she agreed to a small date, nothing too big, too fancy. He asked her about it last week when he was walking her to class, their shoulders brushing as she brushed her hair behind her ear, nervous but excited. She's grown up with Plutarch, basically known him her whole life.

Their fathers are good friends, Quintus Heavensbee has been one of her father's most trusted advisors for decades now, the one he goes to for everything that has to do with running this country.

For everything else, he goes to mother.

But it's not mother she's worried about. No, mother is kind to everyone. Father, on the other hand, could care less who Plutarch's father is, for all he cares, he could be a District boy.

No one is ever good enough for the Snows in his eyes.

Snow lands on top after all.

Now she's hoping Heavensbee might land on top, at least land on top of the scoreboard when it comes to her father's favorite people. He doesn't like a lot of people, sometimes it feels like he barely likes her and she's his daughter. He loves mother though, she's seen how he gets around her, how he melts and softens up.

Ceraphina wonders if Plutarch might be like that around her one day, sappy and soft, wanting to do anything to make her happy.

She'll have to find out.

There's a knock at the front door and she's fast to answer it before one of the Avoxes can do it. Ceraphina takes a deep breath before yanking open the heavy mahogany door, revealing a very handsome-looking Plutarch dressed in a button-up shirt, vest, and trousers. His blonde hair is swept back and his eyes, oh his eyes.

This must be what love is.

"Too much?" He teases with that easygoing smile.

Ceraphina giggles, she can already feel herself blushing, "Not at all, you look very handsome." She steps to the side so he can step into the house and for a moment, she remembers who she is and where she lives. The look of amazement on Plutarch's face is more than enough to remind her that she's the daughter of Panem's most feared and respected man, the President.

"It's been a while since I've been here," Plutarch says, staring up at the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, "I remember we used to run to the chocolate fountain during the parties." Ceraphina laughs, remembering how she used to run around the massive parties they'd throw in their house, Celeste by her side while they basked in everyone's attention.

They still have parties, but they're much more boring now that they're expected to act like proper ladies, forced to engage in polite conversation rather than running rampant and getting away with it just because they're cute.

She misses those days. She misses her sister and she's right upstairs, holed up in her room since she prefers to be by herself rather than her family. It's not like Ceraphina can blame her, not when their family isn't the most functional. They always have breakfast together or the occasional dinner like tonight, but after that, it's time to go their separate ways.

For the children, it's off the school. For mother, it's off to be a socialite and the First Lady. For father, it's off to run the country and be somewhat of a dictator, even if he says he isn't one.

Ceraphina rarely sees her father outside of their designated breakfast time slot. But if she does, it's cold and quiet. He's distant but he's that way with all of the children now that they're old enough to form their own opinions on him and on the world around them.

No longer are they his little wide-eyed, adoring children who think the world of their father.

He hates it.

"Yes, I remember that. Seems like a lifetime ago."

Plutarch rolls his shoulders back, eyeing the servants who wait on the Snows hand and foot, "Everything seemed so much...bigger back then. We wanted to be just like the adults and now we practically are."

He's right, in one year, Ceraphina will graduate. She knows what's expected of her, to get married and have children, exactly what her mother did.

She's not going to do that.

Ceraphina has bigger plans for her future, brighter plans.

"Do you plan to follow in your father's footsteps when you graduate?" She asks, curious if he'll continue the Heavensbee legacy. Plutarch shakes his head, a smirk on his lips, "I'm going to be Head Gamemaker," he says proudly. He says it like he's already done it, he sounds a lot like father right now.

"Oh," is all she says.

A soft meow comes from the top of the grand staircase, drawing their attention to Petunia, the family cat slowly but surely padding down the steps. When Ceraphina was little, they'd chase each other around for hours, both happy to have a playmate. Now they're both older, and Petunia has slowed down significantly.

Ceraphina doesn't know what her mother will do when she goes.

"Oh, she's still alive."

It's words like that where Ceraphina realizes how much has changed, how much she’s grown. Father still treats her like a small child but in reality, she’s nearly ready to fly the nest, leave, and never come back. She’s already got a plan, she’ll go to University and live in her father’s old penthouse apartment.

Mother has told countless stories from his time living in the penthouse before father became President. It’s the Snow’s ancestral home and even after all these years, he’s never sold it.

Which is why it would be a waste to just let it sit there. Ceraphina knows that her father won’t approve of her moving out, of her leaving his watchful eye but she’s sure that with enough help from mother, he’ll let her leave.

She just has to find the courage to mention it first.

Petunia finally reaches them, curious about Plutarch who crouches down, reaching out a hand for Petunia to sniff. Ceraphina watches the sweet interaction, Petunia sniffs his hand before rubbing her head against it, not seeing this new man as a threat to those she loves most.

They’ve all witnessed Petunia attack a few people before, and most of those attacks have been directed at father who’s never seemed to fully enjoy being around the cat.

Ceraphina can’t figure out why they hate each other so much but mother says they’ve always been that way.

"She usually doesn't like new people," Ceraphina says, "she must really like you." If Petunia likes Plutarch, then that's a good sign, a good omen. It has to be.

Plutarch grins at those words, she'd like to believe that he's nervous about this too. "I have that effect on animals," he casually tells her, standing back up, "is your father home? I'd like to have a proper word with him before we depart."

Any confidence Ceraphina had about this date going well is quickly diminished. She had hoped that they'd just be on their way and not speak to father, or mother, or anyone really in this house. But of course, he'd want to say hello, it's proper etiquette to speak to the father of the girl you might be courting someday.

The idea of courting is absolutely thrilling for girls Ceraphina's age. She still asks mother about what it was like during the period when she was courting father. It's almost comical to imagine her father, President of Panem head over heels for mother, chasing her around with roses and words of praise and admiration.

That man is long gone now.

But the way mother tells it, he was so romantic.

Ceraphina might yearn for her independence, but she's no fool, she also wants to fall in love, to have someone look at her the way father looks at mother.

She just doesn't want that man to be evil.

"Oh, yes, well, he might be busy," she lies. Father's schedule is wide open today since everyone in the family knows that Plutarch is coming over to take Ceraphina out on a date. Plutarch frowns, slipping his hands into his pockets, he looks so disappointed, like he was riding on the fact that he'd get to meet the President.

Is that why he's here? Is he only taking her out on a date so he can say that he dated the President's daughter?

No, no, Plutarch would never.

"We can go check," she offers, suppressing a heavy sigh. Plutarch visibly brightens at the offer, reaching out to take her hand, "Wonderful, my father would give me a stern talking to if he found out that I didn't say a proper word to the man of the house."

All Ceraphina is focusing on right now is his hand holding her hand.

She'd agree to just about anything right now.

She's also sure that her father will be reporting back to his father, which adds another level of pressure to this date. Ceraphina makes no effort to remove his hand, guiding them through the massive hallways of the President's Mansion.

"Wow," he says when they pass by a large family portrait. None of the family pays much mind to any of the paintings on the walls but their guests always compliment them. "Mother had to bribe us with sweets to get us to hold still," she giggles, remembering how chaotic all three of the children had been during that portrait.

It's hard enough to get a child to hold still for a photograph, let alone a portrait painted in real-time. But mother has always been good at managing their family, getting everyone to behave and get along. At least long enough for a photo.

Ceraphina only sneaks a few glances at her future boyfriend while they walk up to her father's study, the doors slightly ajar. Plutarch looks so handsome, so noble. If father doesn't approve of him then she's doomed, he's from a good family, a noble name, educated, rich.

Who could be better for her?

Despite the doors already being open, Ceraphina knocks because goodness knows the lecture she'd get if she didn't. Father has always been adamant about his children having good manners. Any bad behavior is always reported back to him with swiftness, so fast that none of them can ever back-peddle.

"Come in," he calls from inside.

Ceraphina draws in a sharp breath, this will either end very well, or very badly.

When she pushes the doors open, she's surprised to see her little brother sitting across from father, looking right at home. Caspian looks over his shoulder with a mischievous grin on his face. He gets away with everything since he just cries to mother whenever he gets in trouble.

He looks just like father though, a carbon copy. Ceraphina worries he might turn out to be just like him someday, his successor, his heir. Being the firstborn means nothing to her when it comes to inheriting the power her father holds.

She's not a boy. Simple as that.

"He's got more hair than his father," is the first thing that comes out of her little brother's mouth, causing her to scowl. Ceraphina squeezes Plutarch's hand, he just got here and is already being teased. "Hopefully I'm able to keep it," Plutarch replies in jest, not letting Caspian's comment throw him off.

Caspian merely grins in response, turning back to father, "I'm glad we've come to an agreement father." He reaches out his right hand and father reaches out his hand as well, sealing whatever deal they made with a handshake.

Ceraphina immediately wants to know what they were talking about before she got here, but knowing Caspian, the little brat will keep it a secret unless she begs for it. Which she won't.

Snows don't beg for anything.

Father finally settles his gaze on Ceraphina, sharp and critical like always. His eyes don't linger long on Ceraphina, not when he sees her every day. They travel over to Plutarch, or more importantly, Plutarch's hand which is intertwined with his oldest daughter's hand.

Uh-oh.

Caspian slips out of his seat, giving father a polite nod before making his way over to the doors, brushing by Ceraphina with that smug little smirk, "Good luck," he whispers. Even though he's almost two years younger than her, Caspian has already surpassed Ceraphina when it comes to height. He'll take after father most likely, tall and strong, imposing to all he comes across.

Such a waste in good genetics.

"Thank you for allowing me to take Ceraphina on a date Mr. Snow, it's an honor to be welcomed into your beautiful home." Father remains behind his desk which leads the young couple to venture further into the study, stopping a few feet away from his desk.

Father hums, he looks so important behind his desk, like he has a million other more important things to do than to entertain Ceraphina and her silly little dates. He's always been good at making her feel small.

"I was surprised, to say the least, when my daughter brought it up," he finally says, "that Quintus Heavensbee's son asked her out on a date. It's a very bold gesture, young man."

"I feel very boldly about your daughter sir."

"You speak quite boldly as well," father replies within a second, his tongue sharp, "very different from how your father speaks to me." Ceraphina swallows, this is bad, very, very bad. She needs to divert this conversation, derail it if possible.

She needs a distraction.

"Coryo? Are you in here?"

Mother might just be her saving grace.

With the doors wide open, mother glides right into the study, immediately lifting the tension in the air with an easy, kind smile on her lips. She looks so pretty today, she always looks pretty. Ceraphina is constantly told that she looks just like her mother.

If only she could act like her.

Ceraphina knows that's what father wants, he wants his daughters to be as pliant as his wife, as forgiving and graceful. Celeste is, she rarely causes trouble, which makes her the apple of father's eye. It's Ceraphina he has problems with. Ceraphina feels that it makes it all the more harder since she's witnessed firsthand how different he is with mother, almost giving her a preview of what their relationship could be like if she just changed everything about herself.

Even now she can see it, how his eyes slightly soften when seeing his wife, like the evil almost floats out of his body.

"Oh, Plutarch, I didn't know you were already here or I would have greeted you at the door." Plutarch gives mother a more genuine smile, "It's no trouble Mrs. Snow, just being in your presence is enough for me." Ceraphina can see father rolling his eyes at the compliment but mother pays him no mind, crossing the room until she reaches the young children.

"Oh, you're such a flatterer, just like your father. And look how much you've grown! I remember when you were a little boy running around in the rosebushes in the gardens."

"Yes, Ceraphina and I were just talking about how quickly time has passed," Plutarch agrees, giving Ceraphina's hand a squeeze which causes her heart to skip a beat. Mother chuckles, eyeing the two of them with amusement in her stormy blue eyes, "You two make quite the handsome pair if I do say so myself. We were quite surprised when Ceraphina informed us about you asking her out on a date. Weren't we darling?"

They all turn back to father whose face has gone placid, probably angry that mother's attention isn't all on him. "Yes, we were certainly surprised when we heard the news. What exactly do you have planned for your little date?"

Plutarch stands tall, confident in how the day will go, "I thought we might go to the zoo." Father scoffs, shaking his head, "In this heat? You'll cause my Ceraphina to melt." Mother rests a hand on Ceraphina's shoulder, calming her so that she doesn't lunge across the table and strangle her father. "If I recall correctly, you took me to the zoo quite a few times in the springtime darling, and I never melted," she sweetly reminds him.

Ceraphina does her best not to look smug at mother coming to their defense. Father's jaw clenches and his fingers wrap tightly around the pen in his left hand, "Well that was almost twenty years ago darling, much has changed since then."

"Nonsense, the zoo will be the perfect place for a first date. I hope you don't mind Plutarch, but you'll have quite the security detail joining you two, they'll keep their distance," mother promises. Ceraphina can't go anywhere without at least three Peacekeepers so she didn't even try and fight it when father insisted on ten following her around on this date.

They'll probably be reporting every little thing back to him. "Ceraphina laughed too much sir, should we shoot the boy now or later?"

Ugh.

"It's not a problem at all Mrs. Snow," Plutarch assures her, "Ceraphina's safety is always of importance." Father rises from his seat, towering over all of them, even Plutarch who's the tallest boy in her year. "I see that there is no talking you out of this Ceraphina," father says disappointedly, "so I can only encourage you to make good decisions and make us proud. You're representing all of us when you're out there."

"I know father."

Father stops at the side of his desk and reaches out a hand toward mother. Ceraphina hopes that mother will stay by her side, but she doesn't. She smooths down Ceraphina's hair and presses a kiss to her cheek. "Have fun darling," she whispers before going to father who immediately wraps his hand around her waist. "I expect her to be home before five," he informs Plutarch, "and in one piece."

"Of course, sir, thank you for allowing me to take her out on a date."

Mother smiles sweetly at Plutarch but father does no such thing, just giving him a curt nod, a dismissive nod. Ceraphina sighs, they might as well leave now before someone says something that they'll regret later on. She tugs on Plutarch's hand, dragging him out of the study and the suffocating atmosphere.

"I didn't get to shake his hand," Plutarch whispers worriedly, glancing back over his shoulder at the open doors, "he'll be sure to tell my father about that."

"I think he's going to tell your father if you blink the wrong way," Ceraphina tells him bluntly, "he doesn't like strangers, especially boys."

Once they're out of earshot, Plutarch lets go of her hand, wrapping his arm around her waist instead which is much better in her opinion. "I'll get him to like me, just wait and see."

Ceraphina smiles up at him, she'd like to see it, to believe it but it seems impossible.

Everything with father is impossible.

꧁ ꧂

The sound of cutlery scraping across plates is mind-numbing for Ceraphina who only wants to think about her date that took place earlier today.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

Plutarch was everything she imagined him to be. he was sweet, funny, polite, and charming. All the things Caspian is not being right now as he kicks her under the table, "Stop it," she hisses, glaring daggers at her little brother. He grins at her, stabbing a piece of salmon with his fork, "You keep dazing off, father will be worse if he notices."

Caspian is, unfortunately, right. Even though father is currently talking with mother across the table, he still notices everything. Ceraphina does too. She notices how he rests his hand on top of mother's hand, how his fingers absentmindedly play with her wedding ring while he talks about something that would probably bore her to tears.

But mother listens so intently, she's so attentive to her husband. She's a good wife, a loving wife, a patient wife.

Her father does not deserve her.

"Ceraphina darling, how was the zoo?" Mother's soft voice snaps her out of another daze and this time, father is staring right at her, critical as always. "Um, it was good, very good, he's very sweet," she says dreamily, remembering the way he held her hand while they looked at the flamingos.

Father reaches for his glass of wine since he'd rather be drunk than sober if he has to listen to her talk about her first date. "He seems a bit arrogant," he notes. Ceraphina scoffs, she can't help but call him out on his behavior, "Yes, he reminds me of someone I know."

And there she's done it, everyone at the table grows silent and uncomfortable just like that. It's like she and father have a knack for lighting each other's fuses.

Mother shoots her a look, pleading and warning.

"I don't appreciate your tone, young lady," father fires back, "this type of behavior is exactly why I've decided that we will not allow you to court Plutarch Heavensbee."

Ceraphina drops her fork and her jaw, unable to mask her shock.

"What!? But that's not fair! You barely even know him! I've only gone on one date with him! Father, you're not being fa-"

Father cuts her off by raising up his hand, silencing her, "I don't need to be anything. I'm the head of this household, the President of this country, and more importantly, your father. I don't think you're old enough to court yet. My decision is final Ceraphina, do not try to change my mind."

Ceraphina can't believe this! It's like he's set on ruining her life.

She tosses her fork onto the plate, "I'm going to my room."

"No you are not, you will sit at this table and eat dinner with your family," he orders, "just because you didn't get what you wanted doesn't mean that you get to take it out on the rest of us."

"But you can? Because every time something goes wrong in your life, it's like the rest of us are walking on eggshells! I'm not going to be a child forever, I'm almost eighteen, and once I graduate, I'll go to the University."

This might have not been the best moment to bring up her big plans for after she graduates from the Academy, but she fears that it's now or never and her mouth is moving before her mind can comprehend a single thought.

She can see in mother's eyes that she's gone too far, she can also see how she's hurt her. Ceraphina has been keeping her plans a secret from everyone, including mother who she tells almost evrrything to.

"When were you going to tell us about this?" Father inquires for the both of them, "Or were you just going to go behind our backs?"

She nearly shivers at the thought of trying to sneak behind father’s back. He finds out everything. She wouldn’t get very far, unless he wanted to. Unless he wanted to see her fail just to prove a point.

But would he do that? Would he do that to his own daughter? His firstborn who he loved so much when she was a baby?

Mother says he used to wake in the middle of the night and check on Ceraphina in her nursery, terrified someone would happen to her, that she’d disappear and never come back.

Where has that man gone?

That’s when she realizes that he’s never existed. It’s all been a facade, a great big show for her, for mother, for their family.

For Panem.

Coriolanus Snow, the President of Panem, beloved by those in the Capitol who see him as a family man, a loving husband and doting father.

The worst part is that mother believes this lie. He’s gotten so good at playing this role, at convincing her that he’s a good man. If love is blind, then mother hasn’t been seeing clearly for nearly twenty years.

Even now, mother is on his side, looking at Ceraphina expectantly, waiting for her to provide an answer for her secrets and shortcomings. "I...I was going to tell you," she whispers, shrinking into herself, "I swear I wasn't going to keep it a secret. I want more than just marriage. I want to get a proper education, I want to live on my own and be my own person, I'm more than just someone's little wife."

If mother wasn't hurt before, she definitely is now. "Is that all you see me as? Someone's little wife who didn't go to school after graduating from the Academy?"

Ceraphina didn't know it was possible to feel this terrible. How this day has gone sideways is beyond her and there's no going back. "No, I just," her voice breaks, tears pool in her stormy blue eyes, "I just want more."

Father sighs, shaking his head at this whole ordeal, "You have more than you could ever need Ceraphina, don't you know how lucky you are? To never want? To never have to worry about a single thing? I've worked extremely hard to give you children the life I never had growing up and your mother recognized that, which is why she didn't pursue a further education but instead, built a family. All we've ever done has been done for you and it's so disappointing to see how ungrateful you've become."

That's it, Ceraphina Snow is a spoiled rotten, ungrateful little brat who hates her parents and her siblings. She can already see the tabloids.

"I'm going to my room," is all she whispers.

"I think that's a good idea," father answers.

No one says a word as she leaves the dining room, feeling worse than she's ever felt before.

She might be a Snow, but she has yet to land on top.

꧁ ꧂

In true dramatic teenage fashion, Ceraphina flings herself onto her bed, sobbing into her pillows.

It's good to cry, mother says that it releases different hormones and that you'll feel much better after you cry. But then again, mother never personally attacked every member of her family at dinner so maybe that's something to consider.

When Ceraphina hears a knock at her doors, she doesn't even bother answering. It's probably father coming to gloat, or Celeste who will always bring up dessert to cheer her up. There are no further knocks which means she can resume crying, but then she hears her doors open, which does not bode well for her current situation.

She feels the bed dip beside her and a gentle hand brushes through her hair.

Mother.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were alright," mother says softly, continuing to brush her fingers through Ceraphina's wavy blonde hair. She sniffles, it's almost worse that mother is the one who came to visit her. She doesn't care if she hurts father's feelings, you can't hurt any if you haven't got any. But mother has feelings, she's so kind and sweet.

"I'm fine," Ceraphina says, her voice muffled by the pillows, "I just want to go to sleep and never wake up." Mother sighs, even at forty years old, she looks thirty, forever youthful and elegant. But Ceraphina knows that she's getting older, that her tolerance for certain things is growing smaller.

Like over-dramatic teenage daughters for example.

And she has two of them.

"Darling, your father means well, he didn't mean to start a fight."

Ceraphina rolls over to her back when she hears those words. Father hates lying so it's funny how easily mother will do it for the sake of keeping the family together. She gives mother a quizzical look, "Yes he did, or he at least did it to get a reaction out of me. Why else would he want me to stop seeing Plutarch? He hates that I'm growing up and that he's losing control over me! I can't live here forever."

"Your father loves you very much, so, so, much, and he simply wants what's best for you. He wants who is best for you."

"No one will ever be good for any of us in his eyes. Not for me, Celeste, or even Caspian. He's never going to be happy with who we choose unless he gets to decide for us."

Mother frowns, even when she's sad she looks so, so beautiful. It's no wonder why father is always so proud to keep her on his arm, to show her off. Ceraphina has witnessed countless times how he's shown her off like a trophy on his arm.

Ceraphina can't let that be her future.

It's funny how much she looks like mother though, they're practically twins with the same eye and hair color. Even their complexion is the same with freckles dotted across their upturned noses.

It's like looking in a mirror.

I'm all you could be, she thinks, and you're all I could never be.

"Don't let this fight sit between you two," mother advises, resting her hand on Ceraphina's cheek, "it's not good for the family, or for your relationship with him. Your father adores you darling, when you were born he changed into a completely different person, I saw it myself. He'd give you the world if you just asked."

Ceraphina would rather die than ask father for anything, especially the world that he holds so casually in his palm.

"It's still not fair, I finally got some sense of normalcy and now he's ruined it. I don't need to apologize for that."

"We can talk about it in the morning then. I think we could all use some sleep."

Mother leans down to kiss her temple, something she's done since Ceraphina was a little girl. She'd read her a book and sing her favorite lullaby. Now it's different, Ceraphina no longer sleeps with a mountain of stuffed animals or needs a night light.

Perhaps father never noticed her growing up until it was too late.

"Goodnight darling, sweet dreams."

Ceraphina lies there, staring up at her ceiling while mother gently closes her doors, leaving her to wallow in her self-pity once again. She knows she should at least apologize to mother, who's sacrificed so much for her family. Who knows, maybe mother did want to go to University, but much like Ceraphina, she had people telling her what to do.

From what she's heard, father fell for mother first, he fell hard and fast. It's no a surprise, not when mother must've been the perfect woman in his eyes. Eighteen, a proper Capitol lady from a prominent family, willing to start one with him.

Ceraphina rolls over to the side of her bed, reaching for her nightstand drawer where she keeps all sorts of things, including the newspaper clipping from when her parents got married. Apparently, it was the largest wedding in Panem, highly anticipated by everyone in the Capitol.

Mother made a beautiful bride at twenty-two, and father was a handsome groom at twenty-seven. One year later, Ceraphina came along. She scans over the headline, 'President Snow marries his First Lady, Snow Lands on Top once again!'

Ceraphina can't imagine how overwhelming it must've been for mother, to not only get married at such a young age, but to marry the President as well. Father had been President for three years when they got married, which mother says was a testament to their relationship since she stood loyally by his side during his campaign.

It's no wonder he proposed shortly after he won. He was riding that high. He had the job and the name, all he needed was the girl.

So if that's his idea of the perfect marriage, then how will Ceraphina's future husband ever compare?

꧁ ꧂

Later that night, the guilt began to eat away at her heart. She still wasn't going to apologize to father, but she could apologize to mother.

Ceraphina quietly made her way to her parent's bedroom, stopping at the doors which were slightly open, most likely for Petunia to come and go as she pleases. Ceraphina peers into their bedroom, still a mystery to her since father doesn't allow the children to come inside.

She spots mother sitting by the fireplace, wrapped up in a silk robe, a cup of tea in her hands. Father stands at the foot of the bed, pulling off his tie. "...no such thing as 'being too hard on her' darling, if she's not corrected then she'll embarrass herself and us when she's out in the real world."

Ceraphina knows she should leave instead of eavesdropping, but if it's her that they're talking about, she deserves to hear it.

"She's still a child Coriolanus," mother reminds him, "she's trying to figure out where she fits in and your constant beratement isn't helping. You used to be so adoring towards her, don't you remember? She's sit in your lap while you were working in your study, and rush to meet you after a trip to the Districts."

Father throws his tie onto the bed, turning to face his wife from across the room, "Things are different now Soarynn, she's older now, more emotional. If you think I don't miss my sweet little girl then you're mistaken but there's no turning back time darling, we have to move forward."

Mother sips her tea, Ceraphina can see that she's taken off her makeup but she's still so beautiful. "I just think you should give Plutarch a chance, he's a good boy from a good family. If not him then who will be good enough for our Ceraphina?"

Father rubs his hand over his face, he looks exhausted from today's events. "I don't know Soarynn, but I don't intend to find out while she's still attending the Academy. And let's not forget that she was keeping her University plans a secret from both of us, she didn't even trust you with that information."

Ceraphina wants to run into the room and tell mother that he's wrong, it's not true, she does trust her. It's her husband she doesn't trust.

His words strike a nerve within mother, causing waves of doubt to flood over her face. "I don't know Coryo, maybe she's right, maybe she should live on her own for a little while, continue her education. Goodness knows I could've used a few more years to figure out who I was when I was her age."

Father strides across the room with a determined look in his eyes, stopping once he's right in front of mother. "Darling, you did everything right, don't let any of the children cause you to doubt the choices you made nearly twenty years ago. You married a good man and gave him a family, you've done nothing wrong, my love."

He leans down and tilts his face, pressing a kiss to mother's lips. It's so gentle and patient, the complete opposite of who he is in real life. Mother responds eagerly, leaning into the kiss as she sets her cup of tea down on the table next to her.

If she wasn't intruding before, she certainly is now. Ceraphina should not be watching this but she can't look away. Father's hands go to mother's shoulders, pushing her robe down, exposing her bare collar bones and mother pulls away, softly laughing. "Not tonight," she tells him, staring up with nothing but fondness in her eyes, "we need to get some sleep."

Father groans in a playful manner, this is a side of him that Ceraphina has never seen. A side that is exclusively reserved for mother. "But promise me that you'll speak to her about it," mother pushes, resting a hand on his forearm, "she won't listen to me forever, and it's better if it comes out of your mouth, not mine. I can't be the middleman forever."

Father grins down at her, the words she just spoke sliding off his back, "But you're so good at it darling," he teases. Mother rolls her eyes, pulling her robe back over her shoulders, "I'm serious Coryo, we live in strange times, I want Ceraphina to find someone who genuinely loves her for her. Not her noble birth or family name. And I know you want the same but I feel as though you approach these topics too harshly sometimes."

Instead of immediately answering like he always does, father does something that genuinely surprises Ceraphina, something she never thought was possible.

Father slowly sinks to his knees in front of the woman he loves.

The President of Panem groveling in front of a woman.

“My darling, there was a time in this world when you and I would not be allowed to marry simply because your skin is slightly darker than mine. So please, let’s not quarrel. This is her first date, her first big moment away from us and look where it’s landed her. With a broken heart and resentment towards me.”

Mother seems stunned, her fingers nervously grasping at her robe, crushing the silky fabric, “But that could never happen again, nothing could ever keep us apart,” she says quietly, Ceraphina and her problems long forgotten.

Father shakes his head, a noble look on his face like he’s a knight in shining armor, “Never my love, I’ll see to it that nothing ever keeps us apart, and when our children come of age, they won’t be kept away from their lovers either.”

That seems to settle mother’s nerves down. She lets go of her robe and finally gives in to father's wishes, crawling into his lap onto the floor with him. It’s so strange to see them act so domestic. Ceraphina feels as if she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t.

Trespassing in her own home.

“So you’ll let them marry whoever? As long as they’re from a good family?” Mother questions, resting her head on his shoulder. Father rubs his hand up and down her side, his eyes closed, “Within reason, of course. I must say that nothing says perfection like the color white.”

Ceraphina doesn’t need to hear any more of this, she’s seen enough, knows enough.

It’ll all end the same, with that stupid saying father has engrained into their minds since birth. Caspian repeats it like a mantra, words to live by for if father can succeed by them, then he can too.

Snow lands on top.

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