#hoping my heart doesn’t get crushed somehow :))))

[sunstone-smiles]

There Are Other Ways to Put On a Brave Face

Author’s note: Wooo!!! My first EPIC: The Musical fic! And my first fic of 2025! I was inspired by the rest of the fandom and their wonderful fics, so I wanted to add on with one of my own! I feel like Circe and Odysseus would be friends after the events of the Circe saga since he poured his heart out to her about being away from home and she assisted him on his journey. Plus, they share some things in common about being a leader. I hope you enjoy!

Series: EPIC: The Musical

Characters: Odysseus and Circe (when they’re friends Lol)

Word count: 3,015

Summary: Odysseus is about to meet his crew, but Circe sees that he has a low-spirited appearance that could drag anyone’s mood down. She doesn’t want him to leave unless he puts on a brave face!

---

Odysseus and his crew know firsthand how powerful of a sorceress Circe can be. But, after a tense battle and a little negotiation and sympathy, Odysseus is fortunate to have earned her trust as an ally. Especially since the next step in his journey is towards the dreaded Underworld, it’s reassuring to know that he doesn’t have to add Circe’s name to his ever growing list of enemies that he has, somehow, gained over the course of his journey.

Circe, with her long hair hanging at her back and tied with ribbons, stands over her desk and swipes a quill across a long sheet of parchment. Odysseus waits patiently and silently in the middle of her room, staring down at the rug and leaning back and forth on his heels. The sorceress adds a few more strokes of ink and a refined scribble or two across the page before laying the quill to the side. 

“There. Done,” she proudly states. With a twirl of her finger, the parchment rises from the desk. It rolls up neatly into a bundle and a red ribbon materializes around to wrap it. The now tied parchment drifts into Circe’s palm. She turns around, walks over, and presents it to Odysseus.

“Here you are. A map with instructions to the Underworld. Keep it safe.” She hands the map to the king. He clutches it tightly.

“Thank you again for your help, Circe. And thank you for returning my men back to humans,” his voice is grateful. “How can I repay you?”

Circe shakes her head. “You don’t need to repay me. I only ask that you get back home safe. Allow your love to prevail that you so desperately miss.”

Odysseus nods, glancing back down at the carpet as he’s reminded of those he lacks by his side. His wife and son. Penelope and Telemachus.

The captain lifts up his head as much as he can with the images of home pushing down on him. His eyes make contact with Circe’s, though his gaze is fragile and a step out of reality. 

“I will do my best.” His eyes drop to the floor as he turns to leave; his head angles towards his feet. Circe’s expression shifts to concern as she watches his shoulders hunch like a bolder was wedged between his shoulder blades, and every step he takes is like crushing his own, already low spirit. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Circe speaks up. She catches up with him. “Now where do you think you’re going?”

Odysseus lifts a brow towards her. “Back to my crew?” his eyes glance to the doorway like it was obvious.

“Not like that you’re not!” She snatches the map from his hands and spins before placing it on a nearby table.

“What?” Odysseus stands there bewildered.

“Look at you! All hunched over and slouched,” she taps his shoulder with the back of her hand. “You haven’t even been to the Underworld, but you’re acting like you’ve already sailed to hell and back!”

“Well, you’re not too far off…” Odysseus shifts his gaze to the side.

Circe sighs with strained air. “Regardless… A captain should be the face of their crew. Put on a brave face! Stand strong!” The sorceress demonstrates by straightening her posture. She begins posing the king like a doll, “So shoulders back, chin up, chest out, and let me see a smile!” She steps in front of him and points to her own cheeks that are holding a smile. 

Odysseus’s head tilts towards the comfort of the ground. “It’s hard to do so when everyone has already been through so much.”

Circe’s concerned, almost motherly look returns on her face, although this time with a twinge of heartbreak as the captain’s words strike true. Circe gently lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand,” she says softly. Odysseus’s pained eyes meet hers. “But I bet your crew feels the same way. That’s why they need someone, more than ever, to put on a brave face and guide them.”

Odysseus pulls his eyes from Circe’s. 

When Circe felt like his crew were strangers, she did what she thought was necessary to protect her nymphs, the ones she cares for as if they were her daughters. She was stabbed in the back once before when kindness made her heart vulnerable, and in turn, a scar of cautiousness formed in the wound. Odysseus doesn’t blame her. Her cautiousness came from fear, and fear, like lightning and water, creates a chain reaction that courses through waves of people unless the two elements are ever prevented from touching. Circe, standing tall and like a warrior to her nymphs in the face of any unknown visitors, is that barrier.

Odysseus finally nods. “You make a fair point…” he says, allowing Circe’s words to take effect. He lifts up his head to face her with a little more strength than before. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Good!” Circe steps in front of him like a captain who is about to give orders (or like Athena who is about to go over a lesson). She positions him again as she speaks, “Now roll back those shoulders, look straight ahead, flatten out that spine…” She pauses and Odysseus remains still so he doesn’t mess with her progress. Circe scans the king from head to toe to check her work. “And while we’re at it, let’s straighten out your stance,” Circe grabs Odysseus’s sides. Suddenly Odysseus yelps and scrambles away as fast as he can, nearly tripping in the process. He whips around, hugging his arms close to his torso.

“Circe! A little warning next–”

“What was that?” the sorceress cuts him off. 

Odysseus clears his throat and his posture shoots up like a tree that sprouted from the ground. His eyes are a bit wider, more alert, than they were before. “Nothing– It was nothing,” he says with his eyes darting to the side to avoid any eye contact whatsoever. “Just an old battle wound that I got from Troy.”

“Odysseus, please. I can see right through your lies,” she says as a matter of fact. “It wasn’t nothing. A battle wound wouldn’t make you jump away like that with a faint hint of a smile,” she leans forward with a subtle curl to her lips, like a lioness closing in on prey.

Odysseus grumbles, trying to stand his ground. “Okay, fine! It just…” he trails off as the confidence leaves him and the butterflies surface in his stomach.

Circe smirks, “Go on.”

Odysseus glares back at her, his fire as an impenetrable leader bursting through. “It just tickled! Okay? There!” He crosses his arms like a child who was forced to comply.

“Oh, is that all?” Circe shrugs and she strides up to him. Odysseus watches her movements like a hawk as she approaches by his side.

“Well, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Circe says.

Odysseus loosens his battle-ready stance, taken by surprise by her response. “Well, good,” he stands up straight, like the interaction never occurred. His eyes dart to the side, “Okay then–”

Circe continues, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about because you should be happy. Happy because now I know a way to get you to smile.” She leans forward on her toes with her hands behind her back and that same mischievous curl to her lips. Odysseus gulps and steps backwards, further into the room. Circe takes a step forward and reveals her fingers that are slowly wiggling in the air. 

“Circe, you can’t be serious,” the captain's voice remains calm, but his wide eyes that are unwavering from the sorceress reveal his frantic thoughts.

Circe takes another step forward, as poised as ever. “I’m as serious as Poseidon is to get his revenge on you.”

“Wow, okay. Harsh,” the king says with a bit of sass, but he immediately regrets getting distracted when Circe suddenly charges at him. Odysseus, with panicked yelp, turns on his heels and runs. 

Circe quickly closes the gap thanks to her head start. The captain rushes to the other side of the room, ready to make a tight turn before crashing into the pink cushioned sofa, but he feels a sharp tug at his cloak. He spins around to yank the fabric from Circe’s hand, only to be startled by the fact that Circe was right on his heels. He flaps his arms as he loses his balance, toppling backwards onto the sofa and wedging himself near the arm of the chair. Circe waltzes up to the opposite side of the couch and hovers over the captain with a grin.

Odysseus regains his bearings and sees Circe standing above him. Wasting no time, he scrambles to vault himself over the arm of the couch, but Circe lunges forward, catches his leg, then yanks him towards her as she takes a seat beside him. Clawing at the cushions, Odysseus flips onto his back and presses his spine against the arm of the couch.

“Circe–!” is all he can exclaim before a shout escapes from his lips when Circe’s hands strike and scratch at his sides before he could set up his defenses. A wave of giggles immediately follow, spilling from the king as he curls forward and digs his heels into the cushions.

“My goodness, Odysseus. I’m barely even touching you, yet you’re already giggling up a storm that even Poseidon would be jealous about. Are you really this ticklish?” Circe asks with a smile that won’t leave her face.

“Nohoho! I’m nohohot!” Odysseus shakes his head, trying to contain his reactions to uphold at least some sense of his dignity, though failing miserably.  

The sorceress lets out a long sigh. “Lying to me again, I see. For once, can’t you tell the truth?”

“Fihihihine! Yohohou’re tickling me! Now get ohohoff mehehehe!” he playfully snaps back. He kicks his leg at Circe. Circe dodges and looks appalled at his attempt.

She exaggerates a huff. “Good, but we can do better. And we need to work on that attitude of yours! You just tried to kick me!” she adds a bit more pressure to her wiggling fingers at his sides.

Odysseus barks out another laugh and throws his head back in the middle of his giggling that’s growing louder. “Yohohohou tried to kill mehehehe!”

Circe rolls her eyes. “That was before we were allies. Now we are allies and you still just tried to kick me!” She repeats herself to the captain like siblings squabbling between each other. She scribbles her fingers a little higher towards his ribs. Odysseus wraps his arms tighter around his giggling torso and sinks further down the arm of the sofa. As he slides down, he paddles his legs in the air as if he was swimming.

“Ahahahand I’ll dohoho it again!” Odysseus sasses, following through with his claim with another kick at Circe. The sorceress catches his leg in the air. With another smirk, she flutters her fingers into the back of his knee, causing the captain to let out a screech of laughter as he tries to sit himself up and grab at Circe’s hands, only to tumble back down and remain in a giggling, squirmy heep in the cushions. 

“Really? Well, you can’t do much kicking while your knees are being ticked, can you?” Circe teases, adding a few squeezes right above the top of his knee. 

Odysseus, being the stubborn and witty leader that he is, refuses to stand down and instead decides to taunt her, “Yohohohou call thahahat tickling?!” 

Circe scoffs as if she just heard the most offensive thing. 

“Oho, that’s it!” she exclaims. She yanks Odysseus’s leg forward and his back to plops completely flat onto the cushions. She pounces a hand towards his stomach, then claws at his belly like her chimera playing with a ball of string. Odysseus shrieks and kicks out his legs as a reflex; his laughter nearly hits another octave as he tries to shove at Circe’s hands digging at his sensitive tummy.

“WAHAHAIT! CIRCEEEEEhehehehe! I’m sohohohorryyyy!” Odysseus finally caves in and drops the sassy act.

“Oh no, Odysseus. You had plenty of chances to cooperate! Sorry isn’t going to cut it now! You asked for this!” Circe declares with a stern tone but through a wide smile. She starts scribbling her hands around his torso, like she is trying to find a specific spot that holds buried treasure. “Now, where are you the most ticklish?” she asks not Odysseus, but out loud to herself. 

Maneuvering around the king’s widely giggling frame, she crawls her hands over his ribs, pausing momentarily between some of his bones to test for larger giggles. When she moves her hands higher, the king absolutely squeals when a pair of her fingers graze across the upper half of his ribs that curve near his back. Odysseus quickly shoves her hand away.

Circe stops in her tracks, almost stunned by the reaction. Odysseus releases his backed up giggles before glancing up at Circe. His eyes widen and his laughter ceases from a gasp once he realizes what Circe discovered.

A devilish smirk grows on Circe’s face. “Well, that’s convenient,” her teasing words pair with her wicked expression. 

Circe makes a move towards his ribs. Odysseus immediately wrestles her hands away and grabs her wrists. 

“C-Circe! Hohold on! Dohohon’t!” Odysseus nervously giggles. Circe attempts another attack at his ribs. Odysseus re-grapples her hands and holds them away from him, keeping them both at a giggly standstill.

Circe chuckles at the game. “Looks like you’ve cornered yourself, Odysseus.” She leans forward and looms over him with a laughter-hungry smirk gracing her features. “If you make one wrong move, then you’re done for.”

Odysseus’s giggles already bubble over from the anticipation. Circe tugs and slips her hands from the captain’s grasp. Odysseus frantically slaps and shields away any of Circe’s tickle attempts like they were blades in the midst of a battle. She’s persistent, he’ll give her that.

“Circe! Wa—AHAIT!” he jolts forward when Circe finally digs into his ribs, finding just the right opening through his defenses. He throws his arms across his chest and boisterous laughter rumbles from his belly all the way into the room. Occasional high-pitched bounces of squeaks and squeals pair with his melody of hysterics. He rolls from side to side and tosses his head around, sometimes huddling his head up near his shoulder then giggling towards the ceiling. In the midst of her attack, Circe climbs her hands towards his underarms before quickly sliding them back down to his ribs, causing Odysseus to reel forward and a snort to emanate from the king. 

“Huh. It seems I didn’t even have to turn you into a pig to hear you squeal and snort,” Circe quips, greatly amused by Odysseus’s reactions.

He would try to counter her remark, especially after she so rudely teased him like that, but in his immobilized state of laughter, where words want to come out as clusters of giggles, surrendering to the sorceress is the smarter move.

“Ohohokahahay!!! CIRCEHEHEHE! Mercy! Plehehehease!” Odysseus manages through his rush of laughter.

“All right, all right,” Circe yields and pulls away her hands while retaining a smile. Odysseus plops onto his back and coughs out his remaining giggles that he was nearly drowning in. He’s thankful that Circe doesn’t have Poseidon’s version of mercy. 

The sorceress places her hands on her hips, staring down at the heep that is the captain. “So, when you leave this room, will you put on a brave face for your crew?”

Odysseus heaves himself up on his arms to sit up like he had just awoken from being knocked out. With his hair tousled about and his clothes all askew, he looks at Circe directly in the eyes, as sharp as an arrow landing in the center of its target. 

“Yes.” The captain replies with a tone that means business. After he answers though, his face eases into a soft, lingering smile.

“Good,” Circe nods. “Now that’s the captain I remember when he first strided into my palace with unmatched confidence.” 

Circe gracefully stands from the cushions as if she was lifted by a gust of air. Odysseus watches her walk past him before he swings his legs off the couch for his toes to touch the ground. He runs a hand through his hair, then stands so he can smooth out his clothes to tidy his appearance. When he looks up, Circe is in front of him, handing him the map to the Underworld. Odysseus takes it from her.

Circe provides him with another warm smile. “So then, let me see it. Let me see how you’ll stand tall when you meet with your crew.”

Odysseus releases a short breath of laughter. Even after all their roughhousing, she’s still not letting him off the hook about putting on a brave face just yet. 

The captain straightens out his back, holds his head up high, widens his stance, and smiles. For good measure, he even places a hand on his hip.

“How’s this? Is this brave enough for you?” the captain says with his regular whip of sass. 

“Ha, I could do without the attitude,” Circe responds. “But it’s much better,” her voice turns soft and caring. “Now go out there and be with your crew,” she nods to the door.

Odysseus bows. He’s, once more, appreciative of all the help the sorceress has provided him. “Thank you, Circe.”

He takes his leave from her room, eventually reaching the great halls of the palace where his men await. Some sit on benches, while others stand, but all look to Odysseus for guidance when he enters the room. 

His crew greets him with smiles on their faces.

Because they see their captain adorning one too.

As Odysseus converses with his crew, he sees Circe off to the side, leaning her back on a pillar as she watches. She gives him a wink. Just one brave face, like a boulder thrown into the sea, is all it takes to create a ripple amongst the waves.

[fenharel-babe]

Okay so…..I’m tired of doing the back and forth of the saves of saving Minrathous and saving Treviso since idk if saving Minrathous really locks you out of Lucanis’s romance. Which SUCKS bc it’s weird that you can’t romance him but if you don’t save Minrathous you can still romance Neve??? Weird but whatever.

I’m tired of doing the back and forth and I desperately want to have a Lucanis romance succeed (and I’ve kinda changed my mind on which place I wanted to save and not just because of his romance) so I’m gonna stick with saving Treviso. I hope the ending is okay :))).

[pucksandpower]

Lovefest

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Oscar thought that adjusting to Formula 1 would be the biggest challenge of his rookie season … no one warned him that being around you and Lando would somehow both traumatize and make him believe in true love at the same time

Based on this request

Oscar steps into the bustling McLaren garage, his eyes darting around as he takes in the flurry of activity. It’s his first day in the paddock wearing papaya and he’s eager to make a good impression.

As he weaves through the mechanics and engineers, he spots Lando chatting animatedly with a woman he assumes must be Lando’s girlfriend.

Approaching the pair, Oscar puts on his friendliest smile. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you, mate.”

Lando turns, his face lighting up. “Oscar! Welcome to the team.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is my girlfriend. Babe, this is Oscar, my new teammate.”

You extend your hand, smiling warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. Lando’s been talking about you non-stop.”

Oscar shakes your hand, chuckling. “All good things, I hope?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you assure him. “He’s really excited to work with you this season.”

Lando nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, mate. It’s gonna be epic. We’re gonna crush it together.”

Oscar grins, already feeling at ease. “That’s the plan. So, how long have you two been together?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he notices a few nearby mechanics exchange knowing glances and stifle laughter. Lando and you, however, seem oblivious to this as your eyes lock onto each other.

“Well,” Lando begins, his voice softening, “it’s been about two years now, but honestly, it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”

You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you. But really, Oscar, from the moment we met, it was like everything just clicked into place.”

Oscar nods politely, not quite understanding the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together.”

“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Lando says, his eyes never leaving yours. “She’s my soulmate, my best friend, my everything.”

You giggle, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “You’re such a charmer. But he’s right, Oscar. We just ... we get each other, you know?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but Lando cuts in, “Remember our first date? I was so nervous I spilled my drink all over myself.”

“Oh my god, yes!” You exclaim, laughing. “But it was adorable. And then you tried to clean it up and knocked over the candle ...”

“Nearly set the whole restaurant on fire,” Lando finishes, grinning. “But you didn’t run away screaming, so I knew you were a keeper.”

Oscar shifts uncomfortably, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment. He glances around, hoping to catch someone’s eye for help, but the other team members seem to be purposefully avoiding their corner of the garage.

You turn back to Oscar, your eyes shining. “Sorry, we got a bit carried away. It’s just, when you find that person who completes you, it’s hard not to gush sometimes.”

Lando nods sagely. “Absolutely. Like, did I tell you about the time she surprised me after a race in Monaco?”

Before Oscar can answer, you jump in, “Oh, Lando, I’m sure Oscar doesn’t want to hear about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Oscar says weakly, trapped by politeness.

Lando grins, oblivious to Oscar’s discomfort. “So there I was, exhausted after the race, and I walk into my hotel room to find it covered in rose petals and candles ...”

As Lando launches into the story, Oscar notices a mechanic nearby making frantic ‘cut it out’ gestures. Confused, he tries to catch the man’s eye, but the mechanic quickly busies himself with a nearby toolbox.

“... and then she steps out of the bathroom in this gorgeous dress,” Lando continues, his voice filled with awe. “I swear, Oscar, my heart stopped for a second. She was like an angel.”

You blush furiously. “Lando, stop it. You’re embarrassing me in front of your new teammate.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Lando insists. “Oscar, mate, when you find someone who makes your heart race every time you see them, even after years together, you know it’s real.”

Oscar nods, desperately searching for a way to change the subject. “That’s ... that’s really sweet, guys. So, uh, Lando, how’s the car feeling this season?”

But Lando seems to be in his own world now, gazing adoringly at you. “You know, speaking of the car, it reminds me of how supportive she’s been throughout my career. Remember that time you stayed up all night with me before a big race, just talking and calming my nerves?”

You smile softly. “Of course I do. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

“And that’s why I love you so much,” Lando says, pulling you close. “You’re always there for me, through the highs and the lows.”

Oscar watches, bewildered, as the two of you seem to forget his presence entirely. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and sees Daniel Ricciardo approaching, a look of amused resignation on his face.

“Hey, Oscar,” Daniel says quietly, coming to stand beside him. “I see you’ve made the rookie mistake of getting these two started.”

Oscar turns to him, relief evident in his voice. “Daniel, thank god. What’s going on? They’ve been like this for ages.”

Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Ah, mate. You’ve stumbled into the Lando and Y/N lovefest. There’s a rule around here: never get them talking about how much they love each other, or you’ll be stuck listening to them being lovesick for at least an hour.”

Oscar’s eyes widen in horror. “An hour? But ... but we have the first testing session soon!”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Daniel says, patting Oscar on the shoulder. “Once they get going, there’s no stopping them. It’s like a force of nature.”

As if to prove Daniel’s point, Lando’s voice rises slightly as he recounts another story. “... and then, on our anniversary, she organized this incredible scavenger hunt all around London ...”

You chime in, your voice equally enthusiastic. “Oh, but Lando, what about the time you learned to cook my favorite meal just to surprise me?”

Daniel leans in close to Oscar, whispering, “See what I mean? They’re in their own little world now. Best to just let it run its course.”

Oscar watches, fascinated and horrified, as Lando and you continue to trade stories and loving glances, seemingly oblivious to the world around you. The garage bustles with activity, mechanics and engineers working around the loved-up couple as if this were a regular occurrence.

“So, uh, how long does this usually last?” Oscar asks Daniel, his voice tinged with desperation.

Daniel checks his watch. “Well, you’re about fifteen minutes in now. I’d say you’ve got at least another forty-five to go, minimum.”

Oscar groans. “But what about testing? Shouldn’t someone ... I don’t know, snap them out of it?”

Daniel laughs, clapping Oscar on the back. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Many have tried, all have failed. It’s best to just let nature take its course. Think of it as your initiation into the team.”

As if on cue, Lando’s voice rises again. “... and that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

You gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Lando, do you really mean that?”

“With all my heart,” Lando says solemnly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, on or off the track.”

Oscar turns to Daniel, a pleading look in his eyes. “There has to be something we can do. Anything!”

Daniel shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, there is one thing that sometimes works ...”

Before Oscar can ask what he means, Daniel cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey, lovebirds! Last one to the track buys dinner for the whole team!”

As if snapping out of a trance, Lando and you both turn, suddenly aware of your surroundings again.

“Oh, shoot!” Lando exclaims. “Testing! Come on, we can’t be late!”

As Lando rushes off to get ready, you give Oscar an apologetic smile. “It was lovely meeting you. Sorry if we got a bit carried away there.”

Oscar watches, dumbfounded, as you hurry after Lando. He turns to Daniel, who’s wearing a self-satisfied grin.

“And that, my friend,” Daniel says, “is how you break the spell. Welcome to McLaren. I’m just happy they’re your problem now.”

As they head towards the track, Oscar can’t help but shake his head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. It’s going to be an interesting season, that’s for sure.

***

Several months into the season, the McLaren garage buzzes with anticipation. It’s race weekend, and the team has invited a popular podcaster to get an inside look at their operations. Oscar, now comfortably settled into his role as Lando’s teammate, watches with mild interest as the podcaster, Mike, bounces around the garage, microphone in hand, eyes wide with excitement.

“This is incredible!” Mike exclaims, his voice carrying over the din of mechanics at work. “The energy here is just electric!”

Oscar chuckles to himself, remembering his own first days with the team. He catches Daniel’s eye across the pit lane, and they share a knowing smirk.

Mike continues his tour, interviewing various team members, his enthusiasm never waning. Oscar keeps one ear on the conversations while focusing on his pre-race preparations. Everything seems to be going smoothly until he hears the fateful words that make his blood run cold.

“So, Lando,” Mike says, his voice dripping with curiosity, “I couldn’t help but notice your lovely girlfriend here. You two make such a cute couple. How about you tell us a bit about your relationship?”

The entire McLaren garage falls silent. Tools clatter to the ground. A collective groan rises from the team members. Someone in the back yells, “No!”

Oscar feels his chest tighten, his eyes already beginning to water. He looks around desperately, seeking an escape route, but he’s trapped between his car and a wall of mechanics who have frozen in horror.

Lando’s face lights up, oblivious to the panic around him. “Oh, mate, where do I even begin? She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You blush, squeezing Lando’s hand. “Oh, stop it, you charmer.”

“No, really,” Lando insists, turning to face you fully. “From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about her.”

Oscar watches in mounting dread as the familiar scene begins to unfold. He catches Daniel’s eye again, silently pleading for help, but Daniel just shakes his head, a look of resigned amusement on his face.

Mike, unaware of the can of worms he’s just opened, leans in eagerly. “That’s so sweet! How did you two meet?”

“Well,” you begin, your eyes never leaving Lando’s, “it was at a charity event. I was volunteering, and Lando was there as a guest ...”

“And I saw her from across the room,” Lando interjects, his voice soft and reverent. “She was helping an elderly gentleman to his seat, and the way she smiled at him ... I swear, it was like time stopped.”

But Lando and you are lost in your own world now, the podcaster forgotten as you gaze into each other’s eyes.

“I remember thinking,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “who is this adorable guy in the McLaren jacket?”

Lando grins. “And I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you all night. I must have walked past your station a dozen times.”

“Thirteen,” you correct him with a giggle. “I was counting.”

Mike looks around, confused by the reactions of the team. He catches Oscar’s eye and mouths, “What’s happening?”

Oscar, his eyes already glistening with unshed tears, just shakes his head frantically. He tries to sidle away, but his movement seems to draw Lando’s attention.

“Oh, Oscar!” Lando exclaims. “You should have seen her that night. She was wearing this beautiful flowy dress that matched her eyes perfectly.”

You laugh, playfully swatting Lando’s arm. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. But Lando looked so handsome in his suit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him all night.”

Oscar feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Daniel standing beside him, a sympathetic look on his face. “Breathe, mate,” Daniel whispers. “It’ll be over ... eventually.”

Mike, still oblivious to the situation, presses on. “So, what was your first date like?”

The entire garage seems to groan in unison. Oscar feels a tear escape and roll down his cheek.

“Our first date,” Lando says dreamily, “was at this little Italian restaurant. I was so nervous I could barely eat.”

You nod, your eyes sparkling with the memory. “He was adorable. He kept knocking things over and apologizing.”

“But you were so patient,” Lando adds. “Even when I spilled wine all over the tablecloth.”

“Because I could see how genuine you were,” you reply. “How kind and funny and passionate.”

Oscar, unable to take it anymore, turns to Daniel. “Please,” he whispers desperately, “make it stop.”

Daniel pats his back comfortingly. “I know, buddy. I know. But you know the rules. Once they start, there’s no stopping them.”

Mike, finally sensing that something is amiss, tries to steer the conversation back to racing. “So, uh, Lando, how do you balance your relationship with your career?”

But Lando is too far gone now. “Oh, she’s the most supportive partner I could ask for. She’s there for every race, every triumph, every setback.”

“Because I believe in you,” you say softly. “In us. In what we have together.”

Oscar feels another tear roll down his cheek. He looks around the garage, seeing the mix of resignation and amusement on his teammates’ faces. Some have plugged their ears, others have found suddenly urgent tasks to attend to far away from the love-struck couple.

Mike, now looking slightly panicked, turns to Oscar. “Uh, Oscar? Any thoughts on ... on teamwork?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, grateful for the lifeline, but Lando beats him to it.

“Teamwork!” Lando exclaims. “That reminds me of the time we decided to cook dinner together for our six-month anniversary.”

You laugh, the sound light and musical. “Oh god, what a disaster that was!”

“But it was perfect,” Lando insists. “Because we were together.”

Oscar feels his knees go weak. He leans heavily against his car, Daniel’s steadying hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright.

“How ... how long?” Oscar manages to croak out.

Daniel checks his watch. “Only twenty minutes in, mate. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Mike, now fully aware that he’s lost control of the interview, looks around helplessly. His eyes land on a senior mechanic, silently pleading for assistance.

The mechanic just shakes his head. “You brought this on yourself, kid. Rule number one around here: never ask about their relationship.”

“I didn’t know!” Mike protests weakly.

“None of us did, the first time,” the mechanic replies sagely. “Consider this your initiation.”

Meanwhile, Lando and you continue your love-fueled reminiscence, oblivious to the chaos around you.

“Remember our first vacation together?” Lando asks, his eyes shining.

You nod enthusiastically. “That little cottage in the countryside. It was so peaceful.”

“Except for when we tried to go hiking and got completely lost,” Lando adds with a chuckle.

“But it led to that beautiful hidden waterfall,” you remind him. “Where you told me you loved me for the first time.”

Oscar lets out a quiet sob. Daniel, still by his side, pats his back sympathetically. “There, there, mate. Let it out. It’s healthier that way.”

Mike, looking increasingly desperate, tries one last time to salvage the situation. “So, uh, about the upcoming race ...”

But Lando and you are in full swing now, trading stories and loving gazes, completely lost in your own world.

“And then there was the time we went to that cooking class together,” you say, giggling at the memory.

Lando groans good-naturedly. “Oh god, I nearly burned down the kitchen!”

“But you made the most amazing chocolate soufflé,” you remind him.

“Only because you were there to guide me,” Lando says softly. “You always bring out the best in me.”

Oscar, his face now streaked with tears, turns to Daniel. “How ... how did you deal with this?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

Daniel shrugs. “You have to learn to find the humor in it, mate. And maybe invest in some good noise-canceling headphones.”

Mike, realizing he’s fighting a losing battle, slumps against a nearby workbench. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”

The senior mechanic nods sagely. “Yep. But don’t worry, kid. We’ve all been there. Give it another ... oh, forty minutes or so, and they’ll run out of steam. Maybe.”

As if to prove him wrong, Lando’s voice rises again. “Oh, and remember that time we went stargazing in the desert?”

You nod enthusiastically. “How could I forget? The way the stars reflected in your eyes ...”

“It was nothing compared to the way you light up my world,” Lando replies, his voice thick with emotion.

Oscar, unable to take it anymore, slides down to sit on the floor, his back against his car. He draws his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly as he mutters, “Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”

Daniel crouches down beside him, patting his shoulder. “There, there, rookie. It’s all part of the McLaren experience. You’re doing great.”

Mike, looking shell-shocked, turns to the senior mechanic. “Does this happen often?”

The mechanic chuckles. “Often enough that we’ve developed a whole system to deal with it. See those guys over there?” He points to a group of team members huddled in a corner, passing around a packet of earplugs. “They’re the smart ones. Always come prepared.”

As Lando and you continue your lovefest, the rest of the garage settles into a strange sort of routine. Some team members go about their work, seemingly immune to the ongoing spectacle. Others gather in small groups, sharing knowing looks and suppressed laughter.

Oscar, still on the floor, has progressed from quiet sobs to a sort of resigned hiccupping. Daniel sits beside him, offering silent support and the occasional reassuring pat.

Mike, having given up all pretense of conducting an interview, slumps further against the workbench. “I just wanted to talk about racing,” he mumbles dejectedly.

The senior mechanic laughs. “Lesson learned, kid. Next time, stick to lap times and tire strategies.”

As the love-fest enters its second hour, Oscar finally looks up, his eyes red and puffy. “Does it ever get easier?” He asks Daniel plaintively.

Daniel grins, helping Oscar to his feet. “Nah, mate. But you do develop a certain appreciation for true love. And maybe a slight tendency towards nausea.”

Oscar manages a weak chuckle. “I guess there are worse things than witnessing too much love.”

“That’s the spirit!” Daniel says, clapping him on the back. “Now, how about we sneak off for a coffee while these two finish up their romance novel?”

As they make their way towards the exit, carefully skirting around Lando and you (who are now recreating your first dance together, much to Mike’s bewildered amusement), Oscar can’t help but shake his head.

“You know,” he says to Daniel, “when I joined McLaren, I thought the hardest part would be the racing.”

Daniel laughs. “Oh, Oscar. The racing’s the easy part. It’s surviving the Lando and Y/N love story that’s the real challenge. But hey, look on the bright side.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “There’s a bright side?”

“Sure,” Daniel says with a grin. “At least now you know what true love looks like. Even if it does make you want to cry and vomit at the same time.”

As they exit the garage, leaving behind the sound of Lando and you laughing and reminiscing, Oscar can’t help but smile. It’s been a strange journey, but he wouldn’t trade his place on this team for anything in the world.

Well, maybe for a good pair of noise-canceling headphones.

[inside-lees-mind]

hey!! do u think u could write for sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, lee, neji, gaara, and/or sai with a clingy reader who gets jealous easily? love language is acts of service and quality time but she clings onto them a lot too. (feel free to change up the characters/add or omit anyone!! thank you!!)

Naruto Characters with a Clingy/Jealous S/O

Characters: Sasuke, Shikamaru, Kiba, Shino, Rock Lee, Neji, Sai, Gaara, and Kankuro

I wanna include Kankuro somewhere so don’t mind me squeezing him in frfr. Also ofc, I gotta add Shino.

Sasuke Uchiha

He’s acting cool. He’s acting real cool. Dark and mysterious.

You’re throwing that off, but if you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, he can’t seem to bring himself to shake you off.

You’re like throwing off the dark and mysterious with your energy, so he’s gonna act indifferent, maybe even irritated.

Best believe that he clings onto you right back at home. I don’t take criticism on this take.

If you get jealous easy… good luck.

Now he’s not feeding in to these other girls minds that he could somehow care to look their way, but these girls STILL stare at him with heart eyes.

Cue him just walking away from them, telling you to come on already.

He’s not entertaining their bullshit, so you two can go where they will leave you both alone :)!

Shikamaru Nara

Complains, complains, complains again.

“What a drag” “you’re so troublesome”

He’s blushing though, don’t let him lie. It’s obvious.

He secretly finds comfort in your constant clinging. And the way you like to spend time with him. And be around him constantly. You must really like him. He’s secretly flattered.

He just can’t open up so he’s never gonna tell you that.

He’s not really the type that women are just falling at his feet, so you won’t have to worry about being jealous so much.

If a girl on a mission does get a little too close though, he WILL distance himself from her. Don’t worry.

He’ll complain if you step in for him to help get the girl away, but he’ll be grateful for the help (silently, bc out loud he’s saying he can handle it himself)

Kiba Inuzuka

I don’t know why people think Kiba is some player or fuck boy. So I want to go ahead and clarify, I don’t think he would be. I think he’s actually got nervous teen boy crushing energy, no matter his age.

He’s clinging to you too. Lmfao.

Literally you two are attached at the hip, arm, shoulder, whatever. Attached.

Akamaru is always with you two though, but who doesn’t love Akamaru?!

He gets jealous too.

You two are probably unbearable bc listen, hope for everybody’s sake you aren’t as jealous as he is.

If a man looks in your direction, he will whine for the rest of the night.

That being said, he is not accusing you of entertaining or doing anything, he’s just complaining about the guys audacity to even look in your direction.

Shino Aburame

DO NOT LET THIS MAN LIE TO YOU. He gets jealous.

Like petty kinda jealous. He’s a petty mf.

So you are not alone if you get jealous.

He’s also physically clingy behind closed doors, but ONLY behind closed doors.

He asks that you not hang off him like a koala in front of everybody, but he’ll perhaps hold your hand.

He’s clingy in a less physical way. He needs you to stay close to him most of the time, just be there. So if you like quality time, this the guy for you.

Back to jealously, this is the only reason I could ever foresee him being even a little toxic. He trusts you fully, but give a little bit too much attention to somebody and he’ll convince himself he’s like not your first choice and you forgot him like everybody else did.

So he’s more jealous than you, without a doubt in my mind.

Honestly, he takes time and effort to convince to settle down and get out of his own head.

Neji Hyuga

Not a PDA person. I think he might be willing to like hold hands. Accept a kiss on the cheek or something. But really, he wouldn’t be all TOO found of being literally clinged to.

However, he does like to have you around. So if you are just the clingy type in regards to being around them all the time, he’s okay with that.

He wants to be around you too.

He’s not the jealous type himself, and he probably won’t really notice that you’re jealous.

I don’t think he’d appreciate somebody other than you being all over him though, so you don’t have to worry much. He’ll tell a person straight up, no sugarcoating, to get away from him.

If you complain about somebody’s actions later, he’ll realize you were jealous. He’ll probably ask why if he told them off anyways. After a conversation, he’ll probably just reassure you that he will continue to tell people off.

Nobody touches him but you.

Rock Lee

HES SO MFING CLINGY

PHYSICALLY AND JUST IN GENERAL.

He talks about you all the time to everybody he can. He’s constantly telling people that you’re his partner. Bragging about you.

And since you’re clingy and he’s clingy, you’re probably right there by his side as he does this.

If for some reason, he doesn’t get a chance or remember to introduce you in some flamboyant, glamorous, extra way, and somebody tries to make a pass at him, he won’t notice they’re flirting unless it’s OBVIOUS.

So cue your jealously.

He would be the type to literally push somebody away and say some shit like “I’m flattered, but I have a gorgeous, amazing partner already.”

Sai Yamanaka

(I call him Sai Yamanaka bc it creates a bigger line for the name btw, he’s not married in this case)

He does not mind you constantly clinging to him or following him around. Not in the slightest.

That is because he likes you, so he wants to be around the person he likes, after all. (Sai, yall are dating. That’s obvious, you don’t have to say it)

He probably follows you around a lot because he thinks he’s supposed to. And also, he finds that he likes to be around you.

He might do something a book told him to, get too close to another person, paying no mind to any like reason it could be wrong. He didn’t mean it that way.

And since we’ve established you’re the jealous type, you’d have to explain to Sai that he can’t just get too close to other people like that.

Gaara of the Sand

He doesn’t mind the clinging, but he doesn’t have the time for it :/

When you can cling to him or follow him around without interfering with his focus and work, he’s perfectly okay with it.

And he’ll find himself wishing that when he’s busy, he wasn’t so you could be with him.

A lot of the girls in the village have a crush on him now that he’s kazekage, so you’re bound to be pretty jealous.

But Gaara doesn’t let these girls near him. He’s polite with them, but he’s not entertaining anything at ALL.

You don’t have to worry with him. He’s as loyal as can be.

At home, he’s clinging to you too. He’s touch starved.

And he loves to spend his free time with you.

Kankuro of the Sand

Cling to him in public like a koala. He’s not complaining. He’s BRAGGING.

PLEASE.

He’s the type to tease you about it, but if you break away from him because of it he’ll complain bc WHERE ARE YOU GOINGGG?

He would purposely make you jealous. Within reason. He will not disrespect your relationship to do so. But if he knows something simple could make you jealous, like giving too much attention to a stuffed animal, he will do it on purpose

“You wish this was you, huh?”

He’d like it if you wanted to just come sit in his workshop with him while he works on puppets. He’ll talk when he’s not like SUPER focused.

[crescenthistory]

I have the cutest idea. How about prompt b 3 with regulus black. Kinda Sunshine x grumpy, where reader is so openly in love with regulus and is just enjoying that even when regulus doesn’t seem to be returning their feelings (or at least not outwardly saying it). Just reader who is absolutely soft and understanding with Regulus.

😬😊 Hope you have a great day!

i genuinely had so much fun writing this, the request and dynamic fits perfectly with little reggie. thanks darling<3 i hope your day was great as well

Prompt: B.3 "You occupy my every thought"

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: not proofread, reggie is mentally unwell and a bit insecure, hinting at the black brothers drama, reader is very emotionally open and secure (good for you), friends-but-kinda-more dynamic going on, reader is bestie with the marauders

Regulus was not sure how or when it started.

Perhaps it was that day in the library when you strolled right up to him, breaking the sacred silence of the space with your bright voice, oblivious to the withering stares of Madam Pince and the other students. You sat down beside him, uninvited, and started chattering as though you had known him for years, as though the wall he meticulously kept around himself simply didn’t exist.

“You’re a good listener, did you know that?” you had said cheerfully after several minutes of mostly unreciprocated conversation. “We should sit together more often.”

Regulus hadn’t known what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all. He had merely given a curt nod, lips pressed into a thin line, and waited for you to get bored.

You never did.

Perhaps it only truly solidified when he was trying to read his book in the Slytherin common room while Barty, Evan and Dorcas did everything in their power to distract him, until you skipped in, plopping down beside him and asking him about his book with genuine interest. His friends were all shocked to see him actually give you an answer, albeit short, and most important of all not pushing you away. He allowed you to sit there and read over his shoulder, smiling dreamily at him, and shot the others a few dirty looks as they snickered. The feeling in his chest that he still can’t quite place, began to bloom in his chest then, and it has yet to let go.

Nevertheless, somehow you became a fixture in his life. You sat beside him in the library, during meals, and even in the quiet corners of the castle where he had once gone to find solitude, and now oddly didn’t mind sharing with you. There was always a smile on your face and a knowing look in your eyes, that remained trained on him, even when in the company of his or your friends. You never demanded conversation; in fact, there were days where you spoke little and just kept him company, respecting his occasional genuine need for silence as much as you successfully challenged it when you knew it was a facade. It baffled him, but he couldn’t say he disliked it. Far from it.

It took a while to get used to, and Regulus was not sure if he ever could entirely. He had grown up with everyone wanting something from him – his parents wanted the perfect heir after Sirius left, his friends wanted chaos, his brother wanted his trust. He dealt with it all by aiming for perfection, for control and precision, but he knew it was crushing him. Then, you – you had never once asked anything of him. You were just there one day, and you never left.

The habit of it all did start to settle and he found himself allowing you further and further in. A friendship formed, perhaps something more as well, and he revelled in it, even as the shame of doing so grew deep within him. The certainty that it was not forever was clear in his heart, but the way you looked at him, the way you spoke without a care in the world, made him think that maybe he could let himself enjoy this one thing while it lasted. 

He began making space for you in his everyday life, part subconsciously, waiting for you outside your classrooms, saving you a seat wherever he was, seeking you out and allowing you to seek him. It was unspoken, yet you picked up on it so easily, so beautifully, making him feel a twinge of safety that he ached to chase. As Barty often teased him, you had become attached at the hip.

Which is one of the main reasons why he ended up on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, leaning against the edge of a sofa with a novel in his hands – because you wanted to spend time with your friends, and where you are, he went.

Unfortunately, though, your friends were primarily Regulus’ brother and his fellow troublemakers.

The common room was loud, filled with the usual banter and shouting, much less controlled than that in Slytherin. While you had long grown accustomed to the buzz of energy in the air, finding comfort in it, you knew the same was not the case for Regulus, so you had a hand playing with the curls at the back of his head as you sat leaning on the sofa’s armrest.

He wasn’t part of the lively conversation about Quidditch plays – though you knew he actually had several strong opinions on this very topic – nor was he trying to laugh along with Sirius’ absurd stories. He was there, present, yet apart from it all, seemingly chewing on a thousand thoughts. You ached to save him from them, but for now you settled on looking happily down with him and enjoying the feeling of his hair between your fingers.

“Oi, sweetheart!” James all but shouted as he threw a tiny piece of crumpled up paper at you, trying to gain your attention. Regulus didn’t look up from his book, but his ears quirked up. “I was talking to you!”

“Oh, sorry Jamie,” you said and Regulus had to fight his smile at the dreamy sound in your voice. “Was distracted.”

“I can see that.” James looked pointedly between you and Regulus. You didn’t dignify his hinting with a response.

“What was it you were saying?”

“Just asking you about your take on the story Siri just told… which I’m now seeing you didn’t even listen to.” Before you could reply, Sirius cut in.

"How do you do it?" Sirius's voice was a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "Regulus barely tolerates people, and yet, there you are, right beside him, like it's the most natural thing in the world."

At that, Regulus had to look up, giving his brother a levelling glare for the unwanted attention. You only smiled in response, glancing at Regulus and his tense posture, hand in his hair never slowing. "There's nothing to it," you had said simply. "He’s not hard to understand once you take the time. It is the most natural thing in the world."

Sirius looked like he wanted to say more, eyes boring into both you and Regulus, whose face was angled back down into his book but whose attention was anywhere but – but before he could, Lily intervened, steering the conversation towards some drama she just learned from Slughorn.

You looked down at Regulus, reading his body language like the book he clearly was not, and in one languid movement slid down from your seat to plop beside him on the floor. He looked over at you, expression unreadable, and you beamed at him. 

The others carried on without much notice, except for Sirius who still had half an eye on you, raising a brow at your changed position from where he was draped over the armchair across the room. He glanced between you and his younger brother, visibly trying to figure out what the dynamic between you really was and what that meant for how he viewed you two. You paid it no mind, instead attentively zeroing in on Regulus and his mood.

You tucked your legs underneath you, leaning slightly closer to him. “You doing okay? You’ve been a bit quiet today,” you said softly, keeping your voice low enough so that the others wouldn’t hear.

Regulus’ eyes flickered toward you briefly, then over to the fire burning not far away from you, book forgotten in his lap. “I’m always quiet.”

“True,” you conceded with a grin, not deterred by his exterior attitude. “But this is the extra-brooding kind of quiet. The kind where your forehead does that little frowny thing.” You gestured to your own forehead, mimicking his usual frown.

He let out a short breath – something that was almost, but not quite, a laugh. 

“There it is!” you teased gently. 

Regulus shot you a look, one that others often labelled annoyance, but you could clearly tell was a form of confused entertainment. It seemed to ask you all the questions he would never say out loud. You had seen that look a lot, more than you could count, but it never stopped you from being your usual sunny self around him. If anything, it only made you want to stay closer.

“You don’t have to sit beside me, I’m fine,” he muttered after a moment, his voice so low it almost got lost in the noise of the room.

You shrugged and remained seated. “I know, but I want to.”

Silence settled between you two for a minute. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though; it never was. Despite how different you were, there was an odd sense of understanding that always seemed to hover between you. You could fill the space with chatter, or sit quietly, and somehow it was always okay. 

Though, as the life bustled around you, you noticed how his left leg was unruly and how he had not flipped a page in his book since you sat down – and you knew Regulus was a fast reader.

After a while, you gave him another soft nudge. “Wanna get some air?”

Regulus hesitated, glancing at you like he wasn’t sure if you were serious, but when you kept his gaze, he eventually nodded, internally grumbling about how he had just thought how some air would be nice. You smiled and stood up, extending a hand to him. He gave in and took it. You led him out of the common room, keeping his hand in yours, winding through the corridors until you found a quiet nook just outside by the Black Lake, far enough from the castle to escape the noise but close enough that you could still hear the faint murmur of the wind over the water.

You plopped down on the soft grass and patted the spot next to you. In your newfound privacy, Regulus didn’t hesitate to sit down beside you, his arms resting on his knees as he stared out at the lake.

You took a deep, loud breath, night air clearing through your lungs, and it inspired him to do the same, much to your liking.

“Better?” you asked, drawing your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them as you looked at him expectantly.

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze distant. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow over both of you, and for a moment, you let the silence linger.

“Why do you do this?” Regulus finally asked, his voice low but tinged with something you had not heard before – something vulnerable.

“Do what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Follow me around,” he clarified, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Why do you bother with me? You could be with any of them.” He gestured vaguely back toward the castle where your friends were. “They’re fun, and loud, and… like you.”

The way he said it, like he was utterly convinced that you should be with people more like you, made your heart ache. You knew what he was trying to do – push you away, not with anger but with insecurity. He did this sometimes when his own thoughts became too heavy, you had seen it. 

“Yeah, they’re fun,” you said lightly, keeping your tone easy. “But so are you. I like spending time with you, so I want to be here. With you.”

Regulus’ brow furrowed, and you could see the gears turning in his head. He didn’t get it. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to, he just had to accept it, but you knew he was not quite ready for that.

“I don’t–” He exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t understand why you chose me.”

You laugh a little at that, and he tries to ignore how it makes his heart race. “You say it like there was some grand plan and thoughtful process. I just spoke to you and found out I really like speaking to you, so I continued. I don’t know Reggie, I just like you. There doesn’t need to be any more to it than that.”

He stared at you silently, clearly trying to digest your words. This was the first time he challenged you about your friendship directly, before he had only hinted that maybe you shouldn’t run around with the likes of me, to which you had simply disagreed.

You smiled at him softly, wanting to guide him through what he was feeling. You leaned back on your hands as you looked up at the stars. “You want to know the truth?”

He didn’t respond, but you knew he was listening.

“You occupy my every thought, Regulus,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “So it’s only fitting you occupy my personal space as well. Even when I’m laughing with James, teasing Sirius, or debating something with Remus… I’m always thinking about you.”

Regulus’s mouth was slightly agape as he stared at you, and you had to fight a giggle at how flabbergasted he seemed – now was not the time.

He blinked, his confusion deepening. “Why?”

You tilted your head slightly. “Because you’re you, you’re Regulus. You don’t need to see it, because I do. I like the way you’re quiet but notice everything. I like the way you actually listen when I talk. I like the way you’re thoughtful, even if you try to hide it behind that whole grumpy façade.” You reached out, nudging his knee with your foot. “I like you, Regulus. Just as you are.”

He stared at you, utterly perplexed, like he couldn’t comprehend why someone like you, someone oh so lovely and lively, would be drawn to him of all people. But you just told him he didn’t need to get it – you got it for the both of you.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You could have anyone. Someone who’s better at… this.” He gestured vaguely between you two.

You leaned closer to him, keeping your eyes on his. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone else.”

Regulus let out a quiet, almost involuntary laugh, as if the mere concept was funny to him, and you grinned, feeling like you’d just won some kind of secret victory.

“You’re a bit ridiculous, you know that?” There was no bite in his voice. In fact, the shine in his eyes almost looked… relieved. Like he was starting to believe you.

You scooted a little closer, closing the gap between you two, placing a tentative hand on his elbow “Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any less true.” You felt some of the tension melt off of him as he leaned into the feeling of your shoulder against his. 

For a while, neither of you spoke, just sitting there by the lake, stars twinkling overhead. And though Regulus didn’t say it, you could feel the shift in him – something was softening, letting go.

After a long stretch of silence, he finally spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… different.”

“Good different?” you asked, smiling softly.

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Good different.”

You beamed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Good. Though you better get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Regulus had a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. When he spoke next, it was so quiet that you almost didn’t hear him, but you did – and flowers bloomed in your chest. 

“I’m glad.”

[bahablastplz]

Best friend's brother: Chan x reader

Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000

Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain. 

You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition. 

Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–

“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone. 

“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily. 

“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare. 

“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–” 

“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility. 

“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice. 

“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper. 

“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.” 

“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.

As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking: 

“You look hot.” 

As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak. 

“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man. 

Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough. 

“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number. 

He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you okay–” 

“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?” 

“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth. 

It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music. 

When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park. 

You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you. 

“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away. 

“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.” 

You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words. 

“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…” 

“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now. 

You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–” 

“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.” 

“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away. 

“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips. 

You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist. 

“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.” 

He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this. 

“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.” 

“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.” 

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling. 

“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak. 

“God, Chan, please–” 

“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it. 

You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive. 

“Can I?” He asks. 

“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet. 

“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.” 

You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions. 

“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you. 

Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you. 

You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go. 

He holds you as you fall asleep that night. 

“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask. 

“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.” 

You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.

*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs

[pomefioredove]

hey so can I possibly have a scenario where Azul reveals his octopus form to his s/o and s/o is surprised, but doesn’t mind it. When he keeps being unsure and hides under water, s/o just dives into the water right next to him and kisses him under water? They can’t breathe under water unlike Azul being human.

this is so sweet!! I hope you don't mind, I did a fic instead of headcanons cause it felt right to me

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "I'd owe you"

summary: in the context of a first kiss type of post: short fic characters: azul additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

It's not that Azul is nervous.

Of course not. He's long gotten over the "crush" phase of your relationship. No more butterflies or blushes when he sees you, and for the better.

You're... a part of his life now.

He's not a fool, though.

He knows that each phase of the relationship comes with a different test to pass. And he has passed; the butterflies, the blushing and stammering, the confession, the first date, all with flying colors and his usual bravado.

Now, a month in, he knows the next is imminent.

He is NOT nervous!

He wants to... to be prepared, that's all. But he can't put it off forever.

"Is this strange for you?" he asks, neck-deep in the water.

You, beautiful, effervescent in the moonlight, are sitting on the dock, kicking your legs back and forth. It's high tide, and dark. "No,"

Somehow, in his mind, he thought this would be fine.

"Are you certain? We could go back to school, if you'd like," he says, hopeful you'll change your mind.

"I'm sure," Damn it.

"You haven't let me see you yet, anyway."

Damn it, damn it. Was being in the water in his natural form not enough?

Azul curses himself again. He did agree to this, foolish as it was.

Hesitantly, he lifts one, just one tentacle out of the water. He's trying very hard to keep calm, but he feels like he's being crushed.

You don't react. At all. No teasing, sure, but no reassurance, no smiling, not even that look of awe you so often have. He suddenly feels much colder than the water, and, without thinking, goes to hide.

Again.

The last thing he sees are your eyes, widened in surprise, and then he's underwater.

Azul knows he'll have to come out eventually. He can't just leave you alone on the dock. And he has an exam first thing in the morning, anyway.

But for now, he'd like to wallow. And so he will.

Of course, he should have known better than to think he'd get away with that. In seconds, the surface tension of the water breaks, his calm interrupted by you, you, of course you, suddenly with him.

Azul wants to say something, he wants to hide, but before he can even move, your hands are on his cold cheeks. And then, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, you're kissing him.

The world stops.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to do.

So, he lets you lead. It's... sort of nice. In a way. Then it sort of feels like you're holding your breath, which is a little- oh, right.

He comes back to his senses, grabs your shoulders, and swims you to the surface.

"Look at you," he sighs. "You're shivering. We need to get you back to school before you catch something."

You say nothing. You're smiling.

Azul sighs again. It's like you hadn't heard a word he said. "Too late for that, then. What are you staring at?"

"You're beautiful,"

His hearts stop. He doesn't respond; if he tries, he knows he'll just make a fool of himself.

Of course. After he was so confident he'd left this awkward phase behind, you manage to give him butterflies all over again.

Finally, he clears his throat. "...Thank you,"

"...But don't think that'll excuse you from drying off and getting warm. I won't have you sick on my behalf. I'd owe you."

Your smile warms with something he recognizes, but can't think of now.

"I think you already do,"

[galindatomyelphie]

can you write an elphaba x reader where elphaba is oblivious to the crush she has on reader until glinda points it out to her

my first little blurb for elphie!!!! this is just pure pining and the wlw experience. enjoy and please let me know what you think! 🤍

Elphaba didn’t settle into Shiz University easily.

The mocks, the looks, the glinda fan group. It was all too much for her. Until she met you. While others would mock her differences, you celebrated them.

You met her in the library and immediately felt drawn to her. Like some sort of invisible string with tying you together. You also noticed the awful amount of stares and mockery this poor girl was getting. So you made it your job to make her as comfortable as possible. You planted yourself down right next to her, taking your books out as if nothing had happened.

Elphaba looked up from her books, her fingers pushing up the glasses that had fallen down the bridge of her nose. She was about to open her mouth when she looked straight into your eyes.

You grinned, your smiling almost blinding.

“I’m Y/N,” You said opening up your history book.

Elphaba still didn’t know what to say.

“I’m actually in your history class, but we’ve never spoken until now. Well, I mean. I’m only speaking, you get what I mean,” You blabbered, getting your gel pens out of your bag. You had planned to study as you were really falling behind in history already, but this girl. This beautiful, green girl has caught your interest.

“Uh..” Elphaba started, her eyes going to her books.

“Is it ok if I sit with you? You’re the smartest in the class,” You asked, eyes hopeful. Elphaba sighed, but eventually nodded.

And soon, those library meetings became regular. Elphaba didn’t really speak, but she listened. And you felt heard.

“I brought my favourite,” You hummed dropping your famous cookies in front of Elphaba. She smiled and turned around squeezing your arm. You blushed lightly at the touch.

“Glinda will be so jealous,”

At this point, Glinda had seen what you had seen the first time Elphaba arrived. She saw how powerful and kind this girl truly was, and somehow the three of you became friends.

“Well, she doesn’t study with us, so no cookies for her,” You stated, matter of factly. You took a seat on the edge of the table, beside Elphaba. For some reason, Elphaba couldn’t keep her eyes trained on your face. Her eyes wandered down your bare legs, and if she wasn’t so green you’d be able to see the pink forming on her cheeks.

She had never felt so flustered before. She didn’t know what this feeling was. Why was her heart racing, why was her mouth dry?

That night, she sat beside Glinda watching her take off her make up at her vanity.

“What does it mean if your heart races around someone?” Elphaba asked.

Glinda giggled, “I’ve been waiting for this!” She exclaimed, almost jumping into Elphaba’s arms.

“You like Y/N!”

Elphaba gasped, “I do not. That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends,” She insisted.

Glinda raised an eyebrow, “You like her. You like her. You like her!”

She opened her mouth to deny, but she couldn’t. Because it was true.

She liked Y/N.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush told him that they know his secret identity so he would let them bandage his wounds?

Dick

‘You knew?’ Dick said as he sat himself down on your bed, his face covered in bandaids as his arms covered with bandages, dressed in comfortable clothing after a long struggle due to his injuries. ‘How?’

‘There were signs that I ignored or didn’t think to look too deeply in until I did, just for everything to come together and realising that my initial assumptions were close to being right.’ You shrugged as you sat down next to him, looking him over to make sure that you had managed to patch up every possible injury he had, hoping he wasn’t hiding one without your knowledge.

‘That or maybe you just wanted an excuse to patch up my wounds. Or seeing me shirtless as I’m patching up my wounds, one or the other.’ Dick teased but couldn’t help but think of all the possible danger you were now going to be in due to knowing who Nightwing was, and while he wasn’t ready to admit to everything he does as nightwing to you, he knew that if he didn’t then you wound find a way to figure it out on your own somehow.

‘Maybe.’ You said, trying to hide your feelings of sheepishness from him. ‘That or the fact that I know you well enough to see through that domino mask of yours, something that doesn’t do much to hide the more easily recognisable features.’ You add as Dick then sighs.

‘You shouldn’t know this, you really shouldn’t.’ He tells you as he reaches for your hand, squeezing it. ‘I know you were smart enough to connect the dots but I don’t think it would happen so soon. I just wish you would’ve stayed naïve to it for a little while longer, just until I was ready and felt that it was safe enough to say something.’ He looks you in the eyes where you could see his conflicting emotions there. ‘I just wanted to keep you safe from all this, but I failed at that too.’

‘Life doesn’t work the way we always want it to.’ You began, squeezed his hand back in reassurance, ‘I know that from this point onward it won’t be easy for either of us, I’ll have a target on my back but I have made peace with that fact-‘

‘Well I haven’t.’ Dick interrupts. ‘You could be in danger because of me,’ he then uses his free hand to hold your cheek, ‘how am I meant to be okay with this knowing that I might not be able to save you.’

You smiled at him and leaned into his touch, careful of his injuries. ‘You’ll always save me, you’re Nightwing.’ You tell him before giving him a light, reassuring kiss on the forehead.

Jason

‘I’m telling you baby bird I tripped.’ Jason said for what felt like the fifth time that night as you continued to pester him about the gash on his arm.

‘Or you were out being Red hood and gotten hurt protecting some kids from Crime Alley.’ You replied casually as Jason stiffened, now looking at you surprised.

‘Why would you assume i’m him?’ He asked, watching you closely as the fear of the consequences this knowledge would bring, especially when it was someone close to his heart knowing his -now not so- secret identity.

‘You come back with injuries more severe than just tripping over thin air.’ You told him as you held his cheek. ‘That and I may or may not have seen firearms left lying about whenever I visit and thought nothing of it, only to do some research and have come to find that those are the same exact firearms Red hood has.’ You add as Jason internally curses himself for getting too comfortable with leaving his stuff out in the open so carelessly.

Fatigue be damned.

‘Okay you’ve figured me out, congratulations, but you really shouldn’t know that I’m Red hood, I’m not exactly well liked.’ He warns you, not wanting you to get hurt because of him, if you did he wouldn’t forgive himself for as long as he lived.

Loosing you wasn’t worth keeping his secret identity under lock and key. He’d gladly expose himself if it meant keeping you away from harm, but until then he knew that he’d have to keep close tabs on you whenever he could.

Or he could train you in self defence while still watching over you regardless.

‘I know.’ You tell him as you patched up the wound on his arm. ‘But when am I allowed to worry of over for doing something reckless.’

‘I was trained for this lifestyle sweetheart.’ Jason reminded you. ‘I’m more attuned to fighting crime and getting hurt doing so, it’s not a big deal.’

‘It’s a big deal to me.’ You spat, blinking back tears, ‘ I don’t want to see you come home with wounds worse then the last, worried to death that I might loose you.’ You add as you began to cover up the wound on his arm with a gauze before moving onto to adding the bandage securely.

‘Well I don’t want to loose you either.’ Jason said as he lifted his free hand to wipe away the tears that manage to fall from your cheek. ‘My identity is not worth your life baby bird. Not in the slightest. I won’t risk you, you’re too important to me to lose over this.’

‘More important than Red hood?’ You asked, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two.

‘So much more than you’ll ever know.’ Jason replied without hesitation.

[damiansgoodgirll]

OK I found it! (No rush what’s so ever BUT!)

(During Roman’s tribal chief era.)

!Female Reader always had a crush on Roman, but was always too scared to ask him out.

One night during a match Kevin Owens costs her the match, (kinda like how Dom cost Raquel that one time) (you can pick between who ever is on the smackdown roster to have reader up against but it’s also not really required if you don’t want to.)

And basically the bloodline, mainly Roman goes to readers rescue, cause beef with Kevin.

(I know it’s not really…LIKE Roman to do something like that because he’s the tribal chief, but I feel like it would be a nice concept idea.)

Idk just fluff and adorable and what ever cause Roman… LMAO.

sorry it took me so long writing this but i’ve never written for roman and i had no idea on how to start 😭 i hope you like it + the timeline doesn’t really exist here lol

roman reigns x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated

‼️nothing major, hurt/comfort, angry roman, some fluff too, kevin owens is mean here sorry

my weakness

everyone loved roman. yes, he played the big mean guy part and he was definitely good at it but deep down you knew that he cared. he cared for his family, his cousins, the fans, he even cared about his opponents while in the ring. deep down you knew he had a big heart and he was a kind person who pretended to be the bad one.

and maybe it was because of his big mean yet kind personality you caught feelings for him.

it’s not that you were big friends - you had a closer relationship with the usos and your shy personality made it harder for you to get to know him better.

but there were times when you and roman spent some time alone. at the gym, training before a big match or backstage, his presence was nice and even if you didn’t speak much, you enjoyed being around him even if the only present sound was the silence.

unbeknownst to you, roman always admired you. he adored your quite presence. when everyone was noisy around him, he found comfort in your silence. your presence was enough for him.

and his admiration for you didn’t go unnoticed backstage but everyone kept quiet, too scared the tribal chief would get mad if someone said something and they know better to not upset him.

all the locker room knew about that. the saw how roman was nice in your presence but mean with everyone else and even if it made you laugh, you never thought more about that.

even if you had no real beef with anymore backstage, somehow kevin picked you as a main target just to made roman even angrier.

it was going all good on friday night smackdown and you had a match against tiffany - if you won over her, you would get a title shot against nia and after being in the industry for over five years with little to no titles opportunities, you were ready to take it all.

it was your moment to shine, to prove everyone that you deserved to be the women’s champion.

what you didn’t see coming was kevin owen running towards the ring the moment you almost pinned tiffany. you almost had it. but you got distracted by him running and tiffany saw that as an opportunity to stand up and hit you in the back.

you were kinda surprised to see kevin there, why was he even there? he barely talked with you backstage and you pretty sure he wasn’t there to help tiffany as he had no business with her either.

feeling pain in your back, you tried to take back control inside the ring but when kevin got closer to the metal stairs, you and the blonde woman both turned your head towards him.

“what are you doing?” you almost screamed, definitely irritated that he was there to ruin your moment “get down kevin…”

but he stood there, watching the way you and tiffany kept fighting. for the second time that night you had the chance to pin tiffy down but you were too close to the cords and nonchalantly kevin put tiffany’s leg over them.

“what the heck! kevin!” you screamed, even angrier now. you were pretty sure you did him no harm so why was he ruining your moment like that?

at this point you were tired and in pain. kevin was trying to sabotage you and you didn’t know if you had the strength to pin tiffany down for a third time.

meanwhile backstage roman was getting ready for his interview later that night and he had no idea what was happening in the ring. he knew you had a match and he was dying to see it but jimmy forced him to repeat his lines for the interview and he was missing all of your match, until jey came to the tribal chief private locker room and asked him if he knew why was kevin ruining your moment.

roman scrunched his nose, trying to elaborate what his cousin just told him “what did you say?” his tone hard.

“kevin is costing y/n’s title opportunity man, i didn’t even know those two had beef” jey uso repeated.

his words making roman’s blood boil “they don’t” he simply said before he left his changing room.

you fought with every single bone in your body. your head was spinning, your back was killing you and you were tired but you wanted that title opportunity so you kept fighting and for the third time that night you had the chance to pin tiffany down, only for kevin to grab you by the leg and drag your body away from the blonde one.

you couldn’t understand. you really couldn’t.

was it in the script and no one told you?

was your career so pathetic that superiors wanted you out of any title opportunity and instead of telling you, they sent kevin?

your mind was spinning so fast and even faster when your teary eyes met kevin’s eyes. somehow you knew he felt guilty about what he was doing to you and yet he kept going on, dragging your body out of the ring.

you had no strength left so you laid there, hearing the bell ringing, letting tiffany win, and you lose, again.

the crowd erupted in boos, especially since everyone was waiting for your match and cheering for you.

you still laid there, trying to catch your breath again when you suddenly heard the crowd going apeshit.

a very mad roman reigns was running towards kevin owens and punched him right in the face. you quickly stood up, surprised he was even there.

you stood by the ring, a hand behind your back as you tried to catch your breath once again. jimmy and jey coming to your rescue as you all watched roman dragging kevin inside the ring “your beef is with me, now with her…you’re gonna pay for this” he whispered, almost as a promise before leaving the ring.

the crowd was cheering, thinking that it was all part of a script and some even thought that you were going to join the bloodline but you honestly had no idea what was happening.

you saw roman waking towards you, his eves never leaving your body “you okay?” he asked but you were too confused that didn’t even answer “let’s get you backstage…” and for the first time you saw the twins walking in front of him as. roman’s hand gently moved to your back as he helped you walking away from the scene.

medical staff checked you out and luckily you had nothing broken. you were just in a big uncomfortable pain.

roman brought you to his changing room, telling jey and jimmy to go somewhere else as he wanted to speak with you - alone.

“are you okay y/n?” he asked once you sat down on his couch.

“yeah, i think so…” your voice trembled. you definitely weren’t okay. you didn’t even know what happened in the last thirty minutes. your brain couldn’t comprehend it.

“you’re not okay…come here” he gently sat next to you and engulfed you in his big arms. you didn’t even realise you started crying. soft whimpers left your body as roman stroked his hand over your back “kevin is gonna pay for what he did” he said with stern voice.

you looked up at him, quickly wiping your tears away “i don’t think i’ve ever been mean or rude to him, why would he cost me the only title opportunity i’ve been given in five years?” you said mostly to yourself.

“because of me…” roman didn’t want to confess. he didn’t want to ruin the little friendship you two had.

your look quite confused “you?”

“yeah me…” he took a deep breath “because the men in the locker room know…”

“they know what?” you couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“that you’re my weakness…” he tried to avoid your look as you watched him with big eyes “you’re my weakness, i never felt like this and they know it…they know i have feelings for you but no one ever said anything…except for kevin, who thought that ruining your moment was okay…he did it because of me, he probably feels like shit knowing that he fucked you up but he got my reaction, he pissed me off and that was his goal” he exhaled once he was finished.

you stayed there, trying to assemble what roman just told you. he liked you, kevin used you to piss roman off and roman defended you, because, again, he had feelings for you.

“you have feelings for me?” you whispered, fearing that if you said it out loud it would have been fake.

“yes…”

“you, the roman reigns, the tribal chief, you have feelings for me?” you whispered again, making roman chuckle this time “am i dreaming? that’s the only possible explanation, i am dreaming…”

his strong voice chuckled again “i promise you that you’re more than awake…”

“why didn’t you say anything about it? we could have avoided a lot of silence conversations…” you asked.

“because i didn’t know, i still don’t know what the outcome of my confession is…i didn’t want to lose you and in all honesty i loved being in your silent comforting presence” he smiled, making you smile back.

you looked at him, trying to find any sign that he was lying but when you find none, you moved closer to rest your lips upon his bigger ones. it was a soft kiss, the both of you testing the waters.

“this would have been the outcome if you told me earlier…” you whispered against his lips, making him laugh.

the title opportunity long forgotten when roman gently moved you over his lap and deepened the kiss.

“i can’t believe you like me…” you whispered, too stunned to believe what just happened.

“i’ve been liking you since you joined the roster…i should have said something earlier…” he said softly while his hand softly stroked your cheek “but i’m glad i did it now…” he kissed you back feeling you smile against his lips.

after a couple of minutes of softly making out, you both got distracted by the twins knocking on roman’s door.

“not now” he said, a stern voice while you tried not to laugh.

“we just wanted to remind you of the interview…” jimmy voice said and you felt romantic scoffing, clearly annoyed to be doing that interview.

“i’ll be out in five” he screamed back and began to kiss you again when he felt the twins walking away from his locker room.

“as much as i love this, you have work to do…” you reminded him, getting an annoyed look by him.

moving back to sitting on the couch, you let roman getting ready as you admired him. he smirked feeling your look on him, especially when you tried to look away.

“i promise you, you’ll get your title opportunity back and no one will interfere this time, you have the bloodline protection, that’s a promise” he said, promising you.

of course you believed him - you knew how important he was in the game and he knew that if he asked hunter for a little favour, he wouldn’t say no.

“once i’m done with my interview, i’ll come back here and then we’ll finish what we started, back at my hotel” he smirked again before leaving the room.

you watched him leave, not being able to answer back. your mouth agape at the idea of spending even more time with roman - maybe, after all, it wasn’t a bad night.

[aventoru]

but i love you more

ft. itoshi rin

tags : misunderstanding/miscommunication, corporate worker!reader, proplayer!rin, awkwardness, rin being a coward, angst to fluff, rekindled love/second chance romance, happy ending!!

a/n : oh my god i'm finally finished with this fic (thank god) after it's been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i got the motivation to finish it in the dead of night yesterday so pls let it be worth it LOL.

highschooler!rin who is your first love. he’s there to support you in your dreams of living a simple life and pursuing a corporate job. you’re there to support him in football and his ambitions to go pro.

highschooler!rin whose brother traumatized him after getting back from spain. from then on, rin decides his ultimate goal is to surpass his brother in football and to fully achieve that, he has to break up with you.

highschooler!rin who lays awake staring at the ceiling that night, unable to fall asleep due to the rush of thoughts running through his head. he can feel himself spiraling, and he knows you don’t deserve to go through this. he has to let you go.

highschooler!rin breaks up with you the next day, stating his lame ass excuse of wanting to focus on his football career. in reality, he just doesn’t want you to get involved with him and all his negative feelings. you’re oblivious to all that he’s going through and simply accept that you’re second to football in his heart. you agree to breaking up, wishing him good luck and happiness in his future.

highschooler!rin who comes to realize how lonely he is after losing you. since you’ve been gone, his life has become dull and without life. rin feels empty without you by his side, but he knows it’s for the best.

or at least he thinks so.

proplayer!rin who regrets everything he’s done to you and misses you dearly. his love life has been rocky ever since you left, especially now that he’s famous and under the scrutiny of the media.

proplayer!rin whose recent breakup left his reputation in shambles. the public view him as someone talented and handsome, but his personality has too many flaws. “he’ll never find a girlfriend with such a personality” they say, when in fact, they know nothing about him.

proplayer!rin who realizes all the people who have dated him after you fail to understand him. he tries, of course, to be affectionate and doting and the perfect boyfriend. it’s never enough in their eyes. they always say he’s too distant and closed off. they’ve been with him for how long now and still don’t know anything about him. they’ve changed him.

proplayer!rin, having gone through many breakups and makeups, realizes quite a few things about love. he realizes love, or rather, people are complicated. he’s been through all of its troubles, from public scrutiny to betrayal. he discovers some only love him for his wealth and fame. and those who truly love him for who he is eventually leave him due to his lack of communication and emotional unavailability. he’s learned and grown from love.

but most importantly, proplayer!rin realizes he still loves you.

proplayer!rin who meets you again as part of a marketing campaign with your company. he finds out that you did achieve your goal of becoming a corporate worker as you are currently the manager of the marketing department.

proplayer!rin who is awkward when talking to you again after such a long time (and even pouts a little when you act like he’s a stranger).

proplayer!rin who tries to become friends with you, hoping that he’ll somehow be a part of your life. proplayer!rin who still sees the girl he crushed on in high school reminiscent inside the more mature you now. upon getting to know you and seeing how much you’ve changed, proplayer!rin finds himself falling even deeper for you.

you could sense him professing silent apologies to you through his actions as he complies with everything you ask him to do. for the first time in his career, proplayer!rin doesn’t complain one bit about doing pr.

ex!rin who finally manages to strike up a normal conversation with you a week into the campaign and totally doesn’t stutter one bit.

ex!rin who is surprised when you tell him you forgive him for breaking up with you in such a rude way considering his career did become incredibly successful (you don’t know how broken he is).

ex!rin who wants to tell you how much he regrets doing so but the words seem to be stuck in his throat.

ex!rin who begins subtly courting you again once he confirms his status as your…acquaintance.

ex!rin who finds himself buying you a (pretty expensive) gift on your birthday a few months after the campaign has ended. he spends the night before your birthday with you, wishing you a happy birthday right as the clock strikes twelve.

ex!rin who hands you your gift in his usual shy tsundere manner, not even daring to make eye contact with you. you accept it with a kind smile, even going as far as giving him a kiss on a cheek, but telling him to not take it the wrong way. ex!rin who blushes a bright red and finds color and happiness returning to his life at the slightest touch from you.

ex!rin who continues looking after you, inviting you to his games, taking you out to romantic dinners, buying you luxury items. but you feel like something is missing, it all seems so superficial. you eventually tell rin that you’re not friends with him for his luxury lifestyle and wealth, but rather for the highschooler!rin that you’d known.

ex!rin who finally pours his heart out to you one night, finally unveiling the trauma that sae caused back in his high school days. ex!rin who cries the most you’ve ever seen that night, claiming he regrets losing you so much. you’re moved by his words and actions these past few months, wanting to give him a second chance.

ex!rin who clings onto asks you to teach him how to love you again. to which you gently pat his head and agree.

friend!rin who is hesitant at first, reverting back to his shy and awkward self around you. yet you’re glad to see his boyish charm return, and you let him in, slowly but surely.

friend!rin who changes his ways and goes on more authentic hangouts with you. he cooks dinner for the both of you, goes on coffee dates, and watches movie marathons late into the night with you.

friend!rin who opens up about his career so far, talking about both his personal life and (unsuccessful) love life. he tells you about all the people he’s met and dated and (he avoids eye contact with you, a deep blush on his face) how he realizes you’re the best he’s ever had. you smile brightly at that, saying “i know.”

friend!rin who ends up giving you gifts again, but this time with much more meaning and sentiment tied to them. exhibit a : he saw the trend where people would make bouquets from scratch for their s/o and decided he had to do the same. you opened the door to rin holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers and an alarming amount of thorn pricks on his hand (you had to patch him up after).

friend!rin who unconsciously develops physical touch with you and only you. first it was just comfortably sitting next to each other. then it was the arm linking and casual hugs (that last a bit too long), which you consider to still be friendly gestures. but that somehow develops into intertwined hands and cuddling?? next thing you know he’s pressing himself up against you any chance he gets, resting his cheek against the crook of your neck.

this is definitely more than friends, but you don’t have to the heart to push rin away, especially when you know how hard it is for him to feel this comfortable after what happened with sae. and you would be lying if you said you aren’t enjoying it as well.

you also soon come to realize that itoshi rin is a coward. you two have been in this situationship for a month now and he still hasn’t come forward to ask you out like a proper person. so, you take matters into your own hands.

“what are we?” you ask him as you two are lazing on your couch, finding a movie to watch. “huh?” more-than-friends!rin turns to you. “i’m asking you what are we?” you make eye contact with him, “whatever this is has been going on for months and you’re not saying anything about it.”

more-than-friends!rin stays silent for a moment.

you almost think he’s chickening out and running away again when he suddenly whispers, “i wanna be your boyfriend.”

“hmm? i didn’t hear what you just said,” you push on.

“i said, i want to be your boyfriend!” he exclaims.

“okay!” you shout back.

everything falls silent. and then, boyfriend!rin pulls you down for a kiss.

loving you comes easy to boyfriend!rin. it’s like he’s breathing air. you two get off work, meet up for dinner (if your schedules permit), go on cute dates, and cuddle like it’s nobody’s business. he buys you cute things, you do the same. you travel together, eat together, and eventually sleep together when he asks you to move in. it’s different from all of the people he’s loved before.

he realizes that you do, in fact, love him the most.

[empress-simps]

for remus, maybe a fic where he has a crush on fem!slytherin reader, and maybe the rest of the gang disapproves (at least initially) because of the silly house rivalry between gryffindor and slytherin? hopefully they’ll warm up to her because she’s actually really sweet and likes remus back, and they see how good for him she is :)

Hi darlingg! Thank you for this request, this is so adorable, and it was so fun to write :) I somehow made it a bit angsty...sorry about that I got carried away. Hope you enjoy! Pictures are from pinterest, credits to the owner!

Beyond The Surface

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Slytherin! Reader CW: Sirius being dramatic, Remus getting angry, and Language

He never really planned to fall in love. Remus thinks it would be better if he just lives his life in solitude; away from the confusing and complicated world of romantic relationships.

He doesn’t think anyone should bear the responsibility of having a werewolf boyfriend. Remus wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he even touched a single hair on your body during that time, he desperately tries to convince himself that his friends and their future children will be enough to warm his heart who secretly yearns to have his own family.

‘It’s for the best, they wouldn’t suffer because of me.’ Remus thought, being the selfless person he was. Although, his plans that he so desperately tried to put up all came crumbling down when you came into the picture.

He didn’t think of it much at first. Remus thought it was just a simple crush that would go away in about three days or so. He was completely wrong.

“Remus Lupin, right? I’m Y/n Rosier, we’re assigned partners in potions.”

You sat beside him, beaming a smile that Remus was certain you were a gift for him from the Gods above. Merlin- you were simply breath taking. That was the first time he felt butterflies on his stomach, feeling his cheeks heat up as you offered a handshake.

“N-nice to meet you, Rosier.” He took your soft hands into his rough, and scarred ones. Shaking it as he desperately tries to ignore the sparks that seemed to go off inside him. Your face grimaced as your last name rolled off his tongue.

“Y/n is fine.” Remus nods, noticing your reaction. He was wondering how someone like you managed to survive other annoying Slytherins as your housemates.

“Alright then, Y/n. Call me Remus, yeah?”

That marks the beginning of an unlikely friendship of a Gryffindor half-blood with a Slytherin pure blood.

“Shall we begin?”

“Alright, but you lead. My skills are no good in potion making.” He jokes, making a small chuckle escape your throat. “I am quite aware.” She teases.

Being partnered with him for a Potions project meant that you would often meet up in the library, spending long hours sitting beside each other in silence, flipping page after page as Remus occasionally puts back books but returning with 5 more.

“Remmy, look here.” You pointed, not noticing how Remus blushed at his newfound nickname as he leaned to your seat, placing one arm on the back of your chair, his tall frame nearly engulfing you as he reads the contents of the page you found interesting.

He suddenly pales, his eyes transfixed on the title of the page. “Wolfsbane potion…” He whispers, eyes scanning the page quickly before looking at you. You hummed, flipping into another page to see how to make the said potion.

“Right, I figured we should make this for our project. What do you think? I think Polyjuice potion is a tad bit boring, hm?” She mused, seeking his opinion on the matter.

Remus parted his mouth to speak, yet the words seem to vanish at the back of his throat. You shot him a worried look, “Do you not like it? You could say so, don’t pretend nothing is wrong, Remmy.”

He blinks, trying to compose himself. “Ah, no-nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, urging him to continue. “What? You know someone who’s a werewolf?” She jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere as she lightly elbows him.

“I do.” He chokes out, the confession was unexpected, even to him. Remus doesn’t even know why on Earth he’s about to tell you one of his darkest and deepest secrets. It was probably because of your warm and inviting aura. It’s like you wouldn’t judge anyone based on first impressions, appearance, and what you’ve heard about them until you can see for yourself.

Remus felt like he could trust you, and his instincts are almost never wrong.

“Well, maybe the potion we’ll brew can help them?” You offered a smile.

“It certainly would be of help to me.”

You stilled; your hand that was about to get your quill hovered as you looked at him in shock.

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered quietly; eyes that were surprised stared into his nervous, amber ones. Remus could only nod, an inkling doubt and regret slowly crept up to him. Did he make the right decision? Was he wrong this time? Would you hold it against him?

Your face turned serious, clasping his hand on the table with yours, you looked at him in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me; I would never tell it to anyone. If it helps, I will even make an unbreakable vow, Remus.”

He widened his eyes, “N-no! It’s alright, I trust you, Y/n.” You visibly relaxed, smiling lightly, squeezing his hand, a soft look was sent his way.

“Thank you for trusting me, Remus. If you’d like, I’ll brew you a supply of wolfsbane from time to time.”

If Remus wasn’t in love before that, he certainly is now.

“Out of all the people you could’ve chose to like it was a Rosier?!” Sirius screeched, a horrified look on his face as he grabbed Remus’s shoulder and looked at him straight in the eyes. The said boy frowned “What about it?”

Sirius blanched, “Are you daft, Moons?” He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the rest of the marauders and Lily, wanting them to side with him. Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line; she does not quite agree with Sirius but there’s still a possibility. It doesn’t help the fact that you are a Slytherin; the house that reeks of cunning pure-blooded wizards.

Peter looked anywhere to just not meet the eyes of Remus, clearly uncomfortable. While James frowned, a troubled look on his face as he clasped Lily’s hand. “The Rosier family… they’re not exactly known for their…,” he started, but Sirius cut him off.

“Rosiers are evil! Slytherins! Pureblood Supremacists! Death Eaters!”

Remus frowns, reading the room and the reactions of his friends. The message was clear without words: none of them supported Remus’s interest in a Slytherin, a Rosier no less.

“Give her a chance, she’s different.” Remus tried to make his friends listen to him. Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes. James sighed, looking at Remus. “Moony, it’s just… We never thought you would fancy a Slytherin.” Remus pursed his lips, “Yeah, I never thought you and Lily would end up together but here we are.” James grimaced at his words.

“There’s tons of girls who fancy you, Moony.” Peter tells him. Remus frowned, feeling annoyance stir inside him. “They’re not her, Wormtail. All I’m saying is that Lily and you blokes should give her a chance before you make assumptions.” He spat, glaring at Sirius before leaving the room.

“Rem? Mon amour, what’s wrong?” She frowns, placing her book down as Remus entered the library, heading straight to her usual place but the window. Remus sighs, shaking his head. He couldn’t possibly tell you what happened, how Sirius thought you were just those pesky Slytherins they pull pranks on.

“They do not like me.” She stated, looking down with a frown as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“I know, amour.”

Remus felt his lips press into a thin line, gently taking your hands in his, trying to stop your nervous habit. “They’re still wrapping their heads around it. They’ll come around, don’t worry about it love.” You sighed shakily, “I hope so.”

Remus traced shapes across the back of her hand, “Anything interesting happened today?”

“Evan and I got into a fight; said I was a blood traitor…” You trailed off, noticing how Remus’s jaw tightened and his stare hardened. “But it was alright, we made up. He just told me to be careful.” To say Remus was surprised was an understatement. “He couldn’t be angry at his twin sister for a long time.” She smiles.

“Black! What the fuck did you do?!” Remus roars, grabbing a fistful of the said boy’s shirt, pushing him against the wall as James tried to pull him off, “Come on, Moons-“

“Don’t bloody touch me, James!” He bellows, pushing off the Potter boy who stumbled away, shock evident in his features. Peter quickly got up from his bed, “Moony, why are you so angry? What did he do?” He drops shoves Sirius off as he stared at his friends.

“It was you guys who pulled a prank on her right? “Remus’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, pointedly looking at Sirius. “Well congratulations, she’s being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now.”

Sirius felt shame and guilt ate him up. The prank was never supposed to go that far.

“Ever wondered why I was suddenly so calm during the full moon? It’s all thanks to her. She makes me batches of wolfsbane potion every month, without fail.”

James choked, “You told her?”

“I did”

“What if she tells everyone?” Peter frowns, concerned for Remus.

“If she wanted to, then the whole school would’ve already known, she even suggested an unbreakable vow.” Remus uttered out, sitting at his bed, looking away from them “Some kind of friends you guys are. I care about her, and if you hurt her, you hurt me too.”

Sirius cautiously approached him, “Moons, I’m sorry.” He began. James placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know, we’re knobheads. Sorry, Moony.” Peter nods, “We messed up, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.”

“We will, Moony.”

An hour has passed after you got treated by Madame Pomfrey, you wanted to leave as you already felt alright but she insisted you stay for an hour or two just so she could monitor you. Having no choice but to oblige.

“Love?” Your ears perked up, the sound of Remus’ voice calling out to you. You turned and smiled at his direction, although suddenly dropping it as you saw the rest of the Marauders and Lily following him.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Sirius pulls out a bouquet of flowers. “Remus told us you like Tulips…” You were about to take it but stopped, James seemed to notice this. “It’s not jinxed, or anything like that.” You bit your lip, silently looking at Remus as if asking was it safe, he nods. “I was there when they picked it out love.” You finally took the bouquet, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

“We wanted to say we were sorry.” James started; Lily nodded. “It was quite shameful that we made such accusations and judged you before even getting to know you.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. We…we were just looking out for Moony.” Sirius sighed; shame visible in his features.

“I understand, I probably would have done the same. I’d also look out for the people I care about.” You softly replied. “It’s okay, I forgive all of you.” You looked at them.

James stepped forward, “We hope you can give us a chance to make it up to you.” Sirius cleared his throat, “And maybe, if you’re up for it, join us for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?” His attempt at a smile was hopeful.

Your lips curved into a genuine smile, your body slowly becoming relaxed. “I’d like that,”

[bizbat]

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

[sabrinasopposite]

cruelest summer ☀️

charlie baker x reader (enemies to lover)

summary of the cruelest summer;

☀️ the baker boys were forced to go to summer camp. charlie knew this tradition would continue, but he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to go. he would have much preferred to stay in midland and and try to work things out with beth. yet tom insisted.

as soon as the baker boys arrived at the summer camp, chaos ensued. it was typical for the bakers' arrival, and charlie had to get things under control — though it was hard to focus with his old childhood crush working at the camp as a counselor. ☀️

"No—end of discussion," Tom said as he walked down the stairs of the big house where the Bakers were currently living. The family had slowly adjusted to their new surroundings in Chicago. It had been difficult for each of the Bakers, but somehow, they made it work. 

Yet for Charlie, it was still hard being so far from Beth. They hadn’t broken up—not yet. 

That’s what Charlie hoped, though Beth seemed to see things differently. It was difficult for both of them, not being able to see each other and share kisses on the lips and cheeks. Now they had to wait until every second weekend just to be together. For Beth, it was tough, but Charlie tried at every opportunity to be in Midland. He loved her dearly, but maybe that wasn’t enough.

“But Dad, I wanted to visit Beth. It doesn’t make sense to go to this stupid camp every year,” Charlie protested as he followed Tom.

“Charlie, I know you’re upset about it, but it’s a tradition. Your grandpa always took me to that camp every summer, and I loved it.”

“You stopped going to that camp when you were 15. I’m 17, and it doesn’t make any sense,” Charlie scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Charlie, it’s not going to change my mind. Now go pack your stuff.” Tom entered the kitchen—or more accurately, the chaos.

“But why are Nigel and Kyle staying home?” Charlie wasn’t about to let that slide. He searched for any excuse not to go to the camp, but it seemed like he was constantly losing the battle.

“Your mother and I thought they’d go next year. They’re still too young for it.” Tom shrugged as he cleaned the mess on the kitchen counters.

“That’s okay? But I have to go? Come on, Dad—”

“Charlie.” Tom’s voice raised a little more than usual, and that’s when Charlie knew there was no changing his mind. Furious, Charlie shook his head and headed to his bedroom to pack.

If it were just one week, Charlie could have dealt with it. But three weeks? That was off-limits. It wasn’t that he hated summer camp—it was fun. When he thought back to previous summers, he remembered being one of the most mischievous kids there. He pulled pranks on the counselors, snuck out to the lake, played truth or dare with the girls, and made out in the tents until a counselor threw water inside. Most importantly, though, he always teased a girl who made his heart race—Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N and Charlie were the definition of chaos. People said the Bakers were the perfect example of it, but they hadn’t seen Y/N and Charlie together.

Sometimes, Charlie teased Y/N so much that she once stuck a gooey marshmallow in his hair.

Another time, Charlie pushed Y/N into a bush full of bugs.

Then there was the night Y/N snuck into his cabin in the middle of the night and put makeup on his sleeping face.

Or the time when he was dared to kiss Y/N in the tent while she had her eyes closed.

Ever since that summer before high school, they hadn’t seen each other. For some reason, Y/N never returned to camp, and Charlie still thought about that kiss. Maybe it was the reason she never came back.

But she didn’t know it was Charlie—that’s what he told himself.

Henry knocked on Charlie's door and peeked his head inside. "Did you convince Dad?"

"Does it look like it? If I had, I'd already be gone—maybe even throwing a big party," Charlie chuckled, though disappointment tinged his voice.

"Man….I was hoping he’d change his mind this year. I mean, even I get bored," Henry sighed.

"I'm sorry, H, but let’s make the best of it." Charlie walked over and ruffled Henry’s hair affectionately.

☀️

The next day was pure chaos. Everyone was running around the house while Tom packed up all the boys' belongings.

"Jake, you can't take your skateboard with you. You know that," Tom said.

"It's me with the skateboard or nothing," Jake replied, raising both hands in protest. Tom sighed and placed the skateboard in the car.

Charlie adjusted his cap and took one last look at his message to Beth, who still hadn’t replied. She was upset that Charlie couldn’t make it to Midland, and she had every right to be. But at the very least, she could have texted "I love you" back.

Kate walked over to Charlie and patted him on the back. "Are you alright, Charlie?"

"Do I look alright?" he snapped, then sighed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"I understand you're grumpy about it, but believe me, it’ll be fun! Maybe this time you can join the counselor group instead of pulling pranks on them," Kate suggested, looking at her son, who managed a small smile.

"Don’t worry, Jake has studied my pranks—I’m sure they’ll be fine."

"Please, do me a favor and keep them under control," Kate said, giving Charlie a concerned look. "...I promise."

"Okay, now let’s get to the car. We need to say goodbye to you guys!" Kate smiled. 

The ride to camp wasn’t very long. Tom kept talking about his funny moments at camp to try and keep the boys excited, but they all wore the same uninterested expression—except for Mark, who was thrilled. He loved nature, especially the animals, and he was excited to reunite with his old friends who joined the summer camp every year. The thought of group activities in nature filled him with joy.

Charlie stared out the window, watching as the scenery blurred past. Everything looked the same. He had hoped there might be something different this time, but it was all exactly as he remembered—the same trees, the same signs, the same winding road to the camp.

By the time they arrived, it was 3 p.m. Tom had been chatting the whole time with Derek, the camp’s owner. They had met at the camp when they were younger, and now Derek was running the place.

The boys grabbed their bags from the car. The camp buzzed with energy as kids and counselors moved around, unloading luggage and searching for their assigned cabins. Mark eagerly rushed ahead, already spotting some of his friends. Jake and Henry dragged their bags behind them, looking less enthusiastic but still chatting about what they might do first.

Charlie, however, moved slowly, his bag slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t in a rush. As the others searched for their cabin assignments, Derek approached him with a smile. "Charlie! Good to see you again," Derek said, clapping him on the back. "I’ve got something special for you this year. You’ll be in your own room—kind of a reward for being one of the older kids now. You’ll have a bit of privacy."

Charlie forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, thanks," he mumbled. Derek seemed proud of the gesture, but Charlie didn’t share his enthusiasm. His own room sounded like more isolation, not a reward. He glanced around at the other kids already settling into their shared cabins, laughing and joking with their friends.

It didn’t feel special to him—it just felt lonely.

"Derek, is there a possibility that Charlie could maybe work here as a counselor? Maybe organizing sports?" Tom asked with enthusiasm, catching Charlie's attention. Work with kids? Sure, he could handle his siblings, but spending the summer interacting with other kids wasn’t exactly on his bucket list.

"Dad—" Charlie began, but Derek cut him off.

"That's not a bad idea. Actually, I just got a call that one of our counselors couldn’t make it—he wanted to visit his boyfriend in Texas. You know how long-distance relationships go," Derek explained casually, while Charlie shot a pissed glance at Tom.

Derek clearly understood what the camp counselors needed. Why couldn’t Tom see that this wasn’t something Charlie wanted?

"If you’re up for it, Charlie, you could take that spot. It’s not too much work, and hey, you'd get paid $20 an hour," Derek added with a grin.

Charlie’s mood shifted slightly at the mention of money. Maybe that could save the summer after all. If he saved up, he could visit Beth sooner than planned.

"Alright, fine. I’ll do it," Charlie finally agreed, his voice lacking excitement but at least sounding resigned.

Tom’s face lit up with approval. "That’s the spirit, son! You’ll do great," he said, patting Charlie on the back. "Well, I better head out. Keep an eye on your brothers, and try to have some fun, alright?"

Charlie nodded and gave a quick goodbye to his dad, watching as Tom got back in the car and drove off. As soon as the car disappeared down the dirt road, Derek turned to him with a more relaxed smile.

"Glad you’re on board, Charlie. You know, the counselors this year are much younger—most of them are around your age, so I’m sure you’ll bond with them pretty easily. They’re a fun group," Derek said.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, unsure if that would really make a difference. He wasn’t here to make friends, but at least he wouldn’t be surrounded by people way older than him. Maybe, just maybe, the summer wouldn't be a total disaster after all.

"Yeah, we’ll see," Charlie muttered, grabbing his bag.

☀️

After settling into his cabin, Charlie tossed his bag onto the bed and took a deep breath. The room was basic but comfortable enough—just a bed, a small dresser, and a window that looked out onto the campgrounds.

Once he was done unpacking, Charlie decided to head out and explore his surroundings. The camp looked just as he remembered: the lake shimmering in the distance, canoes lined up by the dock, kids already running around, and counselors setting up activities. Nothing had changed, yet somehow, it felt different now that he was one of the staff.

As he wandered through the camp, he spotted a familiar sight—an art station, complete with easels and colorful paint splatters covering the ground. He hadn’t given much thought to it until he saw someone adjusting the easels. She was facing away from him, but something about her posture and the way her hair caught the breeze felt oddly familiar.

Then it clicked.

Y/N.

Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who used to challenge him at every turn, the one who teased him just as much as he teased her. The one he hadn't seen since that infamous summer before high school, when they shared that awkward but unforgettable kiss.

He was about to call out her name when she turned around. There she was, looking even better than he remembered. She had grown up in all the right ways—confident and sharp-eyed, with a smudge of blue paint on her cheek that made her look even more vibrant.

But when her eyes locked onto Charlie’s, her expression quickly shifted from neutral to something bordering on annoyance. It was as if all the memories of their past antics came flooding back.

"Well, if it isn’t Charlie Baker," Y/N said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Here I was hoping my summer would be free of your brand of chaos."

Charlie blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Y/N? You’re a counselor here? For—" He glanced at the easels. "Art?"

"Yeah. Not that you'd know anything about it," she shot back, wiping the paint off her cheek with the back of her hand. "What’s your excuse this time? Did they finally run out of people to put up with your pranks, so now you're stuck with running the sports program?"

Charlie smirked, trying to maintain his cool, though her teasing stung. "Nah, just filling in for someone. But wow, Y/N, you haven’t changed a bit. Still packing that same fiery attitude."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "And you still have that same cocky grin. Must be exhausting to keep that up all these years."

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. "I figured you might have mellowed out by now. Guess I was wrong."

"Disappointed?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Not really," Charlie admitted, though his eyes lingered on her a moment longer than he intended. If anything, he thought she looked better than ever, but he wasn’t about to let her know that. At least, not yet.

Y/N sighed dramatically, tossing a rag onto the art table. "Well, try not to make too much trouble this summer."

Charlie grinned. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

As Y/N turned back to the art table, Charlie couldn’t resist the urge to follow her. He sauntered over, hands in his pockets, and leaned casually against the table.

“So, Y/N,” Charlie began with a playful lilt, “where have you been hiding all these years? Haven’t seen you since that unforgettable summer before high school.”

Y/N didn’t look up from her work but let a sarcastic smile creep onto her face. “Oh, you know, just off having a blast and avoiding people like you. It’s been a full-time job.”

Charlie chuckled. “Avoiding me? Surely, I’m not that memorable.”

“Yeah, well, it’s amazing how quickly people forget the endless stream of pranks and trouble you caused,” Y/N shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been busy with school like every normal high schooler.”

As she turned to grab more supplies, Charlie noticed the array of vibrant paints on the table. An idea sparked, and he grabbed a pot of red paint. With a mischievous grin, he gave it a quick shake and, with a flick of his wrist, let a splash of red land right on her shoulder.

The children around the art table burst into laughter, their amusement evident. Y/N froze, her eyes widening as she glanced down at the paint splotch. Slowly, she turned to face Charlie, who was struggling to hold back his laughter.

“Seriously?” Y/N said, her voice a mix of irritation and exasperation. 

Charlie’s grin widened. “Just thought I’d brighten up your day a bit. You know, you’re looking even more colorful now.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re still as charming as ever. Must be exhausting trying to stay that annoying.”

“Ah, come on. You know you missed me,” Charlie said with a wink. “Can’t let you forget about me that easily.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a reluctant smile. “I wish I could.”

Charlie laughed, feeling a rush of nostalgia mixed with excitement. As Y/N grabbed a rag to clean the paint off her shoulder, Charlie’s playful grin stayed in place. Maybe this summer would be more interesting than he’d thought, especially with Y/N around to keep him on his toes.

☀️

Later that afternoon, Charlie found himself in the middle of a lively soccer game with a group of energetic boys. He was reveling in the game, showing off his skills and thoroughly enjoying himself. The boys cheered, their laughter echoing across the field as Charlie deftly maneuvered the ball.

Meanwhile, Y/N and a group of girls watched from the sidelines. They exchanged sly glances and whispered among themselves. ,,Okay girls, like we planned it out alright?” ,,why are we doing this again Y/N?” one of the girls asked Y/N with a giggle.

,,Cause we are independent women and we are better than them” ,,What does independent mean-“ ,,Be quiet Maya” Another girl snapped at Maya.

With a smirk, Y/N decided it was the perfect time for some well-deserved payback. She quickly gathered some flour and a water balloon launcher, and the girls readied their arsenal.

As Charlie focused on scoring yet another goal, Y/N signaled the girls to launch their surprise. Flour-filled balloons soared through the air and exploded over the soccer field, coating Charlie and the boys in a cloud of white powder.

“What the—?” Charlie’s shout was muffled as flour covered his face. He blinked through the haze, spotting Y/N and the girls hiding behind a tree, barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, look at that,” Y/N called out, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Charlie Baker, covered in flour. Who would’ve thought your soccer skills would include a new career as a walking pastry?”

Charlie, trying to wipe the flour from his eyes, shot her a playful glare. “Nice aim, Sweetheart. I see you’ve perfected the art of pastry warfare.”

The boys erupted into giggles, turning the prank into a full-blown flour fight. Charlie joined in, tossing flour back at the girls with a grin. “Guess you’re the reigning champion of the prank league now.”

Y/N smirked, hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess. “Just thought I’d give you a taste of your own medicine. You didn’t think I’d let you get away with that paint job, did you?”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “No, I guess I should’ve expected this. I’m impressed.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “Well, it’s not like you’re the only one who can dish it out. But don’t get too comfortable. I’m just getting started.”

As the flour fight reached its peak, with kids running around covered in powder and laughter filling the air, a stern voice cut through the chaos.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Counselor Mark stormed onto the field, his face a mixture of frustration and disbelief. 

Mark, known for his no-nonsense attitude, took in the scene of flour-covered kids and smirking counselors with a raised eyebrow. Charlie and Y/N, still covered in flour, stopped mid-throw and turned to face Mark. 

Charlie, his face smeared with white powder, tried to suppress a grin, while Y/N wiped a bit of flour from her cheek and put on a sheepish expression.

“Seriously, guys?” Mark said, his tone sharp. “This is not what we’re here for. I get that it’s all in good fun, but look at this mess.”

Charlie shrugged, still trying to keep his playful demeanor. “It was just a bit of fun, Mark. We were trying to keep the kids entertained.”

Mark’s gaze shifted to Y/N, who raised an eyebrow in a mix of defiance and amusement. “And I’m sure Y/N was just doing her part to make sure everyone’s summer here is memorable, right?”

Y/N folded her arms and tried to look contrite, though her eyes betrayed her amusement. “Yeah, you could say that. I guess we got a bit carried away.”

Mark sighed, his frustration not entirely masking his grudging admiration for their creativity. “Well, carried away is an understatement. Next time, let’s keep the pranks out of the organized activities and focus on making the summer fun without turning it into a disaster zone.”

Charlie nodded, trying to look apologetic. “Got it. We’ll keep it in check. Just thought we’d add a little excitement.”

Mark’s expression softened slightly as he glanced around at the kids, who were now eagerly helping clean up the flour. “Alright. But remember, the real goal here is to be role models. Let’s show these kids how to have fun without making a mess.”

“Understood,” Y/N said, giving a small, rueful smile. 

Mark nodded and turned to help with the cleanup, leaving Charlie and Y/N standing in the middle of the field, still covered in flour.

,,What a great role model you are” Charlie smirked.

,,Shut up, Baker.” Y/N shot him a glare.

☀️

☀️

☀️

helllooooo simps for tom welling! as the end of summer (its september so it means autumn season idgaf) I wanted to release this short one-shot with this hottie (:

if you are interested for a series or another part hmu ☀️

x nellie

[violetarks]

when he overhears you speaking to one of your friends about confessing to your crush soon, osamu prepares himself for the worst.

he’s always been in his brother’s shadow, and nearly everyone who has ever talked to him did so for the sake of getting closer to atsumu. just because you two sit next to each other in class and talk a lot doesn’t mean you are automatically different. it could be that you only smiled at him the way you do because you somehow knew that osamu thought about you 24/7, and you liked playing a little game on him.

and so what if you got along with atsumu? and when you three would walk to and from class together, you would butt heads and he’d smile at your behaviour. it didn’t mean a thing, did it?

except it did. and he is more than annoyed at that.

“well, why don’cha asked her out?” atsumu asks his brother that day as they walk home, “she could be confessin’ to you.”

“i dunno’,” osamu replies as he stares at the ground, “jus’ think she’s not gonna’ ask me, ya’ know?”

“yer’ an idiot, ‘samu,” atsumu dodges a whack in the head, “go n’ ask her out! this is yer’ chance!”

“ugh, whatever, tsumu…” osamu doesn’t say anything more, but he secretly hopes his brother is right about this. he plans to ask you out tomorrow after school.

but his plans get interrupted when he and his brother get to their shoe lockers and a letter sits in atsumu’s. they stare at it as atsumu carefully unfold it.

it’s a confession, but not just any — it’s yours. osamu would recognise that handwriting anywhere.

“dear miya,

“i have been wanting to say this for the longest time — i have feelings for you. it has taken me so long to gather the courage to admit this to you in hopes that you reciprocate my feelings. you are kind and genuinely funny, and your smile makes my heart burst. i think that you’re one of the sweetest people i’ve ever met.

“i do not expect you to answer me straight away, but know that i wait for your response. thank you for being such a wonderful person to me. i couldn’t imagine a better person to be near.

“l/n”

atsumu slowly turns to his brother as he rereads it ten times now.

“osamu—”

“i knew it.” osamu interrupts as he slams his shoe locker shut and trudges into the building.

people watch him as he marches passed them. when he makes it to his homeroom, you’re sitting at your desk and scribbling down something on your notebook. he takes a deep breath in and sits at his spot.

“oh, osamu,” you mumble out as you see him, “i, uh… did you see my letter?”

“‘course i did.” his voice is sharper, which catches you off guard.

“y—yeah? what do you think?”

“i don’t wanna’ talk about it,” he grunts as he looks away from you, “i don’t even care.”

you stare at the back of his head before deciding to be quiet. perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood to talk.

at lunch, osamu and atsumu usually eat with the volleyball team in the cafeteria, but atsumu can’t help but feel his brother’s sadness radiate ofd him. he excuses himself from the table and makes a beeline for you.

“yo, y/n,” atsumu speaks up. you and your friends look up from your food to see the heartthrob staring at you. “can i talk to you for a sec?”

“oh… sure,” you say as you get up. you follow him outside the building to talk in the empty hallway. “is something wrong?”

atsumu rubs the back of his head. he doesn’t know how to explain his rejection, it’s different because he knows that osamu genuinely likes you. usually, he’s just flat out say it. but this was hard.

“look, about yer’ confession—”

“why didn’t osamu like it?” you interject with your hands playing with each other. you stare at the floor with furrowed brows. “i don’t understand…”

“huh?” atsumu scoffs with crossed arms. he doesn’t understand you. “what are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout? osamu’s in love with you, y/n!”

“but,” you mumble with hot cheeks, “he—he said he didn’t care!”

“oh my god, y/n,” atsumu groans with a roll of his eyes, “of course he’d care about you confessin’ to his brother! why else do ya’ think he’s pissy?”

you freeze up at that and don’t say a word.

“look, i’m just here to say that i don’t return yer’ feelings, okay?” he sighs to you, “and i don’t think i ever could. i just see you as a friend of my brother’s, and i would never do that to ‘samu.”

“who… said i was confessing to you?”

it’s atsumu’s turn to be confused. he tilts his head.

“you… what?”

“i was confessing to osamu. i—i mean, i didn’t put his name because i got a little nervous and wrote it very formally, but still,” you explain to atsumu, “i wasn’t… the letter wasn’t for you. i’m sorry, no offence whatsoever, atsumu. i just… i just see you as my friend’s brother.”

“oh crap,” atsumu facepalms and wipes his jaw, “you put it in my locker by accident, ya’ idiot.”

“what?” you shriek in embarrassment, “i—i’m sorry, i thought osamu’s locker was the top one.”

“well, now you know it’s mine,” atsumu chuckles out. he reaches out and ruffles your hair. “go n’ talk to yer’ boyfriend, he’s been down all day.”

“i’m sorry, atsumu,” you apologise again with an embarrassed face. he feels kinda’ bad after spending the whole day being angry at you. “ah, this is the worst! no wonder he hasn’t spoken to me all day…”

“yeah, how could ya’ fuck up so bad?” he laughs at you.

“‘tsumu!”

“i’m not gonna’ help you, loser!” atsumu claims as you jab him in the stomach, “this ain’t my mistake.”

“ugh, whatever, just—”

the cafeteria door opens and out walks osamu. he looks left and right before he sees the both of you standing close together.

“atsumu,” he calls out, “c’mon, kita wants to talk to us.”

“r—right!” he walks over to his brother as you stare at your peer. osamu refuses to look at you.

“osamu,” you say to him as his brother walks back into the cafeteria. osamu stops on his tracks involuntarily, and can’t find himself to continue on. he lets you come closer. “can i talk to you after school today?”

“i have practice.” he responds.

“i can wait,” you say hastily, “just want to talk to you.”

he glares a little at you for a bit, but then reluctantly nods his head. you let him go and decide to finish your lunch with your friends and explain to them your situation. you get a few giggles, but you can’t blame them.

you watch from the entrance of gym as the twins practice their attack. the other players are resting and drinking from their bottles. you try to hide from around the corner and keep and eye on the younger twin, but you get caught by the captain.

“kita!” you jump as the captain blocks your view, “i’m sorry, i’m just waiting for the twins to finish.”

“you’re waiting for osamu, right?” he asks you as he looks to the said twin, “he is usually a little late to practice because he likes to walk you to your bike.”

“i’m sorry.” you sheepishly say.

“it’s fine,” he replies, “you wanted to speak to him? you may wait inside, if you’d like. it is cold out there.”

“oh? hey y/n,” suna calls out to you as he wipes his forehead, “come to watch?”

before you can say anything, kita is escorting you to sit on the stage. he lets you out your bag beside you and even asks if you’d like to see a little practice game while you were here. you say ‘yes’.

osamu can’t help but look over his shoulder at you every time a point is scored and he gets to catch his breath. one of the last times he does that, you’re already looking at him and wave a little. for a moment, he forgets everything and he waves back too but he doesn’t hear the whistle blow. he does, however, feel the volleyball hit the side if his head.

“hah!” atsumu laughs out loud from the front line. he watches his brother fall back with a red mark on his cheek. “pay attention, dumbass!”

“shut up, fleabag!” osamu groans from the floor. the game stops and everyone crowds around him.

“okay, let’s just get him up ‘n get a sub,” aran says as they lift the guy up from his feet. they walk him over towards you. “l/n, can you please look after him? make sure sure he doesn’t sleep.”

“o—oh, yes, okay…” you mutter back as osamu holds the side if his face and slumps beside you. he furrows his brows and looks away from you. “are you okay? you were doing pretty well.”

“yeah? betcha’ didn’t even notice with yer’ loverboy showin’ off his muscles for ya’.” he grumbles out.

“can we talk about this morning, ‘samu?” you plead, “it was a huge misunderstanding.”

“yeah, it was.” he says back to you.

you go quiet and look back to the practice game. the whistle blows, spikes are hit and points are won. you’ve begun to lose interest after what osamu had said to you. admittedly, he feels a little bad for being so rude to you, but he doesn’t go on.

deciding to not embarrass you more, you hop off the stage and grab your bag before you walk to the exit. osamu watches carefully at how you clench your fists at your side and you ignore how suna calls your name.

the practice goes on like normal and osamu joins the game soon after you leave. when training ends, atsumu smiles at his brother and walks beside him on the way home.

“so, how’d it go?” he chirps, “did y/n talk to ya’?”

“i didn’t wanna’ hear it,” osamu retorts as he trudges through, “it—”

“what? ‘samu, you idiot!” atsumu groans as he wipes his face, “y/n likes ya’, and messed up the confession by puttin’ it in my locker. i went to reject ‘em but i found out and told ‘em to tell you the truth.”

osamu stops as stares at his brother in disbelief.

“yeah, look at yer’ dumb fuckin’ face now!” atsumu shouts as he points an accusatory finger at osamu, “you two, i swear to god…”

“i—i’ll be right back, meet ya’ at home, ‘tsumu!” osamu shouts loudly as he begins running.

he knocks at your door ten minutes later, frantically waiting for you to answer. he’s huffing and puffing with his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

when you open the door, in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair undone, he holds his breath.

“osamu? what’re you doing here?” you ask him.

“i really like ya’ and i wanna’ take ya’ out on a date,” he blurts out without letting you explain. his exhales turn into puffs of cold smoke while he stands outside. your face begins to freeze just by opening the door. “i’m sorry for bein’ a dumbass n’ not listenin’ to you. atsumu told me everything and—”

you take his freezing hand and pull him inside and close the door behind the both of you. osamu shuts up as you press your warm hands to his face.

“god, you’re shivering, ‘samu,” you point out. you drag him to the kitchen and grab your blanket from the couch. wrapping him up, you heat the kettle. “i’ll make you some tea.”

he lets out a small hum in thanks. now he’s embarrassed to say anything.

“it’s okay, osamu,” you tell him, “i get why you’d be so upset. but i really wanted to confess to you… i’m sorry too. do you think we could—”

as you turn around to him, osamu is already making his way to you. he presses a kiss to your lips as he wraps the blanket around the both of you. your hands find his waist and you tug him closer as you melt against him. osamu, ever the inexperienced, is much too eager for a taste of you. he is a bit of a messy kisser, but once you reach a hand up to hold his cheek and guide him, he’s found his groove.

you were a good kisser. he wonders if you’ve thought about kissing him as much as he’s done to you.

when you pull away, he’s as red as a tomato.

“you better.” you chuckle as you kiss where he was spiked in the face.

“i’ll go out with you, ‘samu.” you say softly to him.

“thank you,” he replies, “i promise i’ll treat ya’ well.”

his phone begins to ring. pulling away, osamu sees his brother’s name pop up on his screen.

“GET BACK HERE N’ GIVE ME THE KEY, OSAMU!” atsumu begins to yell at osamu, “IF YER’ DONE MAKIN’ OUT WITH Y/N, I WANNA’ GET INSIDE N’ OUT OF THE COLD ALREADY! IF YER’ NOT HERE IN TEN MINUTES I’LL KILL YA’!”

“okay, okay, ‘m sorry,” he quiets down, “say ‘hi’ to y/n.”

“hey, y/n,” atsumu says to you.

“hi, ‘tsumu.”

“get yer’ boyfriend over here before i freeze my tits off, ya’ hear?”

“okay, ‘tsumu.”

he hangs up without another word. osamu takes off your blanket and folds it on the couch as you turn off the kettle.

“‘m sorry, i forgot to give him the key.”

“it’s okay, ‘samu, just make sure you two get warmed up,” you retort. you walk him to your door and even holds him hands, bring them to your lips and try to heat them up. “i’d hate for you to be sick on our first date.”

“right…” he whispers out. you smile at him.

“get home safe.” you say to osamu after you lean up and kiss his cheek. he nods at you before walking off in the direction of his home.

he’s got some dumb smile on his face once he reaches his house. atsumu, however, is squatting down by the door with his scarf wrapped around his face and his hands tucked under his pits. he’s red with annoyance.

“‘bout fuckin’ time, asshole,” he grumbles out as osamu pulls out the keys from his pocket, “ya’ tell me to leave my keys at home but forget to gimme’ yer’ set. in the dead of winter. look at ya’, you’re smilin’ like it’s nothin’!”

osamu opens the door and allows atsumu inside first.

“me n’ y/n are goin’ on a date.” he tells his brother.

“oh, is that what you were ‘bout to sacrifice yer’ brother for?” atsumu grumbles out as he sets the heater on a warm temperature, “finally you two are together.”

osamu smiles to himself as he heads to his room. you have lovely handwriting, now that he thinks about it.

[salty-autistic-writer]

For @captainrockley, Happy Birthday Mako! ❤️ Inspired by your drawing: Deleted Scene from s07e03

Sometimes, Buck and Tommy like to play the “do you remember?” game.

It usually starts with one of them asking while they are cuddling on the couch or before they fall asleep in bed together. They like to remember the little things. Like all the firsts they have had so far.

“Remember our first meeting?” Buck asks, threading his fingers through Tommy’s curls.

Tommy blinks up at him with a drowsy smile. “How could I ever forget that? You crushed my hand.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the other way round?”

“Okay. We crushed each other’s hands.”

Buck laughs. “Yeah. And hearts.” *

The sight of the helicopter is enough to make Buck’s heart beat faster in nervous anticipation of what’s about to happen. But then he gets distracted. Because a brick wall of a man approaches them, wearing a blue flight suit and a smile that makes his nose scrunch and the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

Buck stares. Notices he’s staring. Quickly stares at the helicopter instead.

“Hey, Tommy!” Chimney says, grinning. “Nice to see you!” He hugs the guy, who looks down at him fondly.

“Heard you need a helicopter? I hope y’all made your will, didn’t eat anything that might slosh around in your stomach, and like to cuddle. Because this ride will get bumpy and you’ll be packed in like sardines in the back.”

Eddie and Buck share an uneasy glance. Chimney just chuckles, apparently not concerned at all.

Tommy shakes Eddie’s hand first, briefly. Then it’s Buck’s turn. And somehow, when he looks at the very blue eyes of the man who is even bigger than he is which really doesn’t happen often, his heart jumps up, his ears burn and he feels kind of … stupid.

“Tommy Kinard.”

Buck stutters, “Uh. Bu - Evan Buckley.”

“Nice to meet you, Evan!” Tommy beams at him.

And they’re shaking hands. Still.

Buck can’t stop. He’s not letting go. Why isn’t he letting go?

Tommy’s smile doesn’t falter when he notes, “Strong handshake. Great. I like it. You can let go now, if you want to, Evan.”

Buck’s face heats up. He pulls his hand away, scratching the back of his head in a frantic skipping action and then asks, just so he can get rid of the embarrassing silence, “So, uh, what are the chances of a helicopter getting hit by lightning while flying through a hurricane?”

Eddie raises a wondering brow and Chimney tilts his head, his arms crossed over his chest. But they don’t say anything. They just shrug and climb into the helicopter. *

“Remember our first kiss?” Buck asks.

“It was better than fake mouth static,” Tommy says teasingly. An echo of the past.

Buck chuckles, reaching out to draw circles on Tommy’s naked chest. “Hmmm. It was. I wanted more.”

“I know,” Tommy says. “You were staring at my lips.”

“Oh. Well. You do have pretty lips. Did you want more too?”

“Hm. Not immediately. I … didn’t want to overwhelm you. But I was thinking about more. Later. The whole evening and night and the next days.”

Buck feels warmth coiling in his stomach. “Want some more right now?” He asks, raising a brow.

“Please,” Tommy breathes, pulling Buck in for a kiss. *

Tommy closes the door. Buck’s lips are still tingling. He touches them with a fingertip, still kind of frozen. In the silence, he can hear himself breathing.

Tommy kissed him.

He kissed Tommy.

And he already wants to do it again.

He is going to do it again. Soon. Right?

Buck really wants to. Wow. He feels floaty. Like a teenager with a crush. Feels like something heavy fell off his chest.

Smiling, he goes to grab his laptop. He has to figure out what restaurant he’s going to take Tommy to. *

After they collapse on the couch, filled with lasagna, Buck kisses Tommy’s nose and asks, “Remember our first time?” 

“You mean our first whole night of sex. In which you showed me what my libido is still capable of.”

“It was kind of cute when you asked me again? like that. Slightly panicky,” Buck says, chuckling.

Tommy snorts. “You were absolutely insatiable.”

“Too many new sensations. New possibilities. I wanted everything at once,” Buck admits, marvelling at the memories.

“And did you get it?” Tommy asks, raising a brow.

Buck smirks. “Oh. I got it good!” *

“Again?” Tommy breathes in disbelief. “I don’t know …”

“You do have one more for me, don’t you?” Buck lowly whispers into his ear, hands stroking down Tommy’s sides, rubbing at his nipples, lips wandering down to his neck, leaving another mark. “You can do it, I know you can.”

Fuck.

Tommy moans helplessly as he shivers and writhes, Buck’s words going right to his groin, his spent cock giving a feeble twitch. “Okay,” he agrees. He could be safewording out, they talked about it, talked about everything, but he doesn’t want to.

He’s an overheated, sweaty mess, out of breath and energy. It’s too much, but he wants all of it. Especially when Buck is looking at him like this. With hunger and adoration in his eyes.

Tommy wraps his arms around Buck’s warm body, pressing them together until they’re breathing a moan into each other’s mouth and says, “Let’s do one last round.”

It’s two in the end. *

“Remember our first I love you?”

“Of course. It was so dramatic.”

“You were being dramatic, Evan.”

“No. I was being serious and realistic, Tommy .”

“Do you really want to fight about it?”

“No. I want to kiss you and remind you how important you are to me.”

“Oh … Come here. You’re important to me too, Evan.” *

“What were you thinking?” Buck huffs, hands on his hip, eyes narrowed.

“That I was saving the day?

“You could have died!”

Tommy winces and tries a weak smile. “Well, that risk kind of comes with the job, right?”

Buck shakes his head. “Still. Tommy … I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Listening to you crying out over the mic, thinking you might not come out of that building alive … Those were the longest minutes of my life. I was so scared. I couldn’t … My heart, Tommy. My heart was being crushed.”

Tommy looks at him, eyes open and wet. “Evan. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry. And I promise, I will always try my damndest to get home to you. I promise.”

He can’t do this anymore. Buck wipes tears out of his eyes, then climbs into the hospital bed, snuggling against Tommy, mindful of not putting pressure on his broken leg and ribs. He needs to feel Tommy. Needs to know he’s breathing. Needs to hold and be held.

“I love you, Tommy,” he breathes, hiding in the crook of Tommy’s neck. “I love you. I can’t lose you.”

Tommy exhales shakily and reaches for Buck’s hand, taking it and squeezing gently. “I love you too, Evan. I love you so much.” *

“Hey. Remember our first wedding?”

“Tommy … We are not going to have a second wedding just because you liked the cake so much.”

“Fine …”

“Oh stop sulking! I’m going to buy it for you.”

(AO3 Link)