#i thought this was a joke first time i saw it

[lovemomhatepolice]

what brought back that smile? - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: kinda established relationship, fresh relationship, curious muppets!, English is my second language!

type: fluff, pure fluff

word count: 3,5k

summary: 5 times when someone asked the reason for Lando's sudden surge of happiness, but he preferred to keep his sweet secrets to himself

more content: f1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist

Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.

THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.

Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.

One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.

“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”

Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.

Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?

Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.

MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.

The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.

Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?

And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.

“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.

Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?

"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,” Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.

Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”

Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.

“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”

Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.

“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?

Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”

They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.

Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.

“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.

LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.

The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.

Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.

When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.

“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.

“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.

The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?

“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”

“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.

Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.

“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”

After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.

Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.

When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”

The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”

Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.

“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.

Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.

“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.

“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.

Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.

“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.

[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”

Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.

“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.

HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.

The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.

Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.

The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.

Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"

Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"

"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.

Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.

"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"

"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "

"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.

After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.

The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"

"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"

Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"

Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.

[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time

FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.

The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.

"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.

Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."

"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.

"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.

"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.

Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.

“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.

He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.

Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.

“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.

“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"

For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.

A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[yanderefarm]

Now I need us “pretending” to forget about Emil, only to actully forget about it him.

Like, as a punishment we lock him in the basement and forget about him as a joke, send a maid down there once a day to feed him, but then we genuinely forget about with him, because we didn’t realize how much work Emil does.

He gets feed once a day from a maid, but that’s the only interaction he has. (Need some more angst before it gets fluffy🙏🙏)

part 3 of this & 2

i don't know why i love this series so much i want to break emil so bad. i have so much fun writing pathetic emil whump.

cw;; domestic abuse, drugging, unsanitary, manipulation, dehumanization

things had been relatively peaceful since starting the divorce process. a process you had paid the information guild to purposely obstruct and delay while also leaking all the information about. at this point you met the guild master more than your own husband, in spite of emil's attempts. every day you would wake up to find some kind of expensive gift and your maids would inform you that emil was there to see you, to which you would dismiss both. but emil kept trying.

he wasn't even being drugged anymore but the effects had clearly taken their toll on his mind. according to the servants of the main house he wasn't doing his work, he would spend all his time wandering or sitting like he was the living dead, and they even heard him crying. your name and even mention of the queen title had been all but banned by his advisors in an attempt to get him to pull himself together. he wasn't.

the first time you saw him in 6 months was shortly after a meeting with the guild master discussing your next steps to take over the kingdom. you had decided with everything squared away you would go out for a walk by the fountain.

the moon was the only light on the usually vibrant garden, casting it in a somber darkness. the air was cold and heavy with the chilling change of seasons on the horizon so you were wrapped in a shawl. it was the perfect night to find him. your husband was standing on the bridge overlooking the fountain, he was staring down into the water longingly. you could see from his reflection in the water his eyes were sunken and there were bags under them, his hair was messy and uncombed, and he was paler than normal. he looked sickly and the cold blank look in his eyes didn't help.

he didn't even seem to notice as you approached when usually he would be on high alert or draw his sword. or he did notice.

"if you're going to kill me please make it quick." he must have thought you were some kind of assassin but more notably his voice was so soft and weak unlike anything you'd ever heard from him.

"i have no intention of killing you." your voice made his head shoot up with all the speed his weakened state could allow.

fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "(y/n)..? are you... real..?"

he stumbled towards you his feet struggling to carry him. you reached out and caught his surprisingly light body.

"you're re-"

"what's wrong with you? do you think dying will make things better?"

he flinched and his head fell to the ground.

"i thought you would break eventually and just admit you were wrong. but you'd rather die, hm?"

"i- you- i tried-"

"i don't want your excuses, emil."

he swallowed hard as tears began falling freely from his eyes. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. you couldn't help but take some kind of pity on the poor man, your hand running under his chin and forcing him to look back at your face.

"you're so pathetic... this is what the terrible tyrant becomes?"

you ran your thumb along his bottom lip before you leaned in close enough to feel his ragged breath against your lips.

"give up your pathetic life. give everything to me. everything ends when you give it to me."

he tried to lean forward enough to catch your lips but you kept out of his reach. instead of letting him kiss you, you pulled away from him completely. you stood up straight and pulled your arms away from his body causing the pathetic man to drop onto his knees. his body hit the cobble like you'd dropped a corpse but you decided not to care, choosing to turn away instead.

you started to walk away when you heard scratching and clawing at the stone under your feet.

"-ing please. please!" his voice clearly strained to try get your attention.

you stopped in your tracks waiting for him to speak but instead you heard more clawing and shuffling. eventually you felt his head bump into your leg like a cat greeting its owner. his bloody hands grabbed your leg and he held onto you as tight as he could while rubbing his head against your leg.

"emil. let me go."

"please take it... please take everything..."

"let me go."

"you want everything its yours. please."

"emil."

you finally dared to look down at him. he was so pathetic, his tears and blood were staining your pants. you let out a heavy sigh and reached down, your hand running through his tangled mess of hair.

"if you mean that then tomorrow concede your kingdom to me."

his peachy pink eyes looked up at you.

"do you understand?"

he nodded.

"then let go. you're getting me dirty."

he hesitated but he slowly let go of your leg.

———

of course your husband came through. he did as you ordered him, meaning you ascended to the title of king ahead of your schedule. while it certainly had its benefits it did leave a few things unfinished specifically on the guild master's end. so after everything settled into place you used your new found power to help staple in the final touches.

your husband who had been so happy to have you next to him again the past few months had to resume the drugs just so your hard work wouldn't completely slip away. he was still walking around like a corpse just a better maintained one. but no one seemed to have the time to pay much mind in the chaos of making you king. no one had the time to wonder where he went near the end of the chaos as you took over. and it was only when it was too late did his advisors even notice he wasn't anywhere to be found in the castle. you had to reassure them that he was currently tucked away from the public receiving the utmost medical care for his poor condition.

you ran a hand through your hair as you descended the dungeon steps, you were currently complaining to your maid about all the tedious parts of your job. there was an undeniable smile on your face though, the pride of having the most powerful kingdom in your hands made even the tedium valuable. your smile only widened twisting into a sick smirk as your torch caught onto the dirty form of your caged husband. he was on his knees clinging to the bars of his cell with tearful dead eyes.

"how long has it been, emil...?"

you walked over and crouched in front of him, he immediately went to push his head against your hand.

"your highness it's been 6 months since your last visit." your maid hung the torch nearby.

"really...? it's been over a year since i started this..."

your maid set about preparing emil's food while you pet him gently.

"i didn't mean to forget you down here."

the poor man didn't even seem to realize as he rubbed his head against your hand.

"oh emil... to think it only took a little over a year to break the mad king. to take everything away from you. to trap you in a little cage like you did my family."

the maid returned with some fresh water and a bowl of porridge. you pulled away from emil as she gave him his food. you watched his pathetic eyes look up at you desperately and you cocked your head to the side.

"your highness he's asking permission to eat."

your eyes lit up as you looked over at your maid. "oh my goodness!! you're incredible! i remember telling you i wanted to train him but to think you really went the extra mile..."

"thank you, sir. it's an absolute honor to break the man who destroyed my home."

your smile didn't fade as you looked down at the pleading former tyrant. "go ahead. but you can't use your hands."

emil hesitated before he finally shoved his face down into the bowl, eating like a pig with slop. it was a disgusting but amusing site, you and your maid had a good laugh at his expense.

once he was done you decided to give him a reward for good behavior. you crouched down in front of him and gently cleaned the mess off his face with a warm wash cloth. it was the closest thing he'd had to a real bath in the past 6 months. he was sobbing as he leaned into your hands.

it didn't last as long as he'd liked and you pulled away again.

"continue training him. id like to parade him around eventually so we should work with that goal in mind."

"you'll have his complete obedience. he won't even think to breathe without your permission."

"wonderful." you ran a hand down through his tangled mess of hair. "... I'll give you a budget so you can properly turn this area into the perfect training facility and our private friend can help you with the details."

"i look forward to it, your highness."

"i do too. when we're done with you you'll finally tell me you love me. you'll thank me for all of this, emi."

all you got was a whimper in response. you left your precious husband down in the dungeon, a forgotten and disgraced king.

[rosemariiaa]

𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙁𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎

00 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚, 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚.

a/n: long awaited pazzi series.. let’s hope I can be consistent with these chapters and not forget about after a few weeks.happy ready lovelies ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: none!

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“I’m afraid to see what’s in my head ,

So I lock it up in my heart”

I’ve never been great with people. Sure, I can hold a conversation, crack a joke, make some friends. But there’s always this weird distance—like I’m just performing, pretending to be someone I’m not. The truth is, I’m not as confident as people think I am. I hate being vulnerable. But she made it easier.

I still remember the first time she reached out to me. Her message popped up on my computer late one night, while I was scrolling through my Blogspot—my little corner of the internet where I could just… breathe. No one knew who I was on there. Just a girl venting about life, school, basketball, and the tangled mess that was my head.

She said she’d been reading my posts for a while and liked them. She said she didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and honestly, I didn’t either. So we started messaging. At first, it was just random stuff—homework, teachers, the usual teenage nonsense.

But soon enough, she started opening up more. Things I never expected to hear. About her family. Her stepdad. The kids at school who made her feel invisible. She told me how her mom remarried, and how everything felt off after that. I didn’t know why she was sharing all this with me, someone she’d never met, someone who was practically a stranger. But there was something about it. Something that made it feel right.

We got into the deeper stuff too—the insecurities, the self-doubt, the anger at things we couldn’t control. And yeah, I shared my own stuff too. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough. My parents getting divorced. Moving from place to place. The pressure to be perfect all the time. I guess it’s easier when you don’t have to show your face. She wasn’t some random person to me anymore. She was… real.

She called me “her safe space.” And for some reason, I was okay with that. I think I needed her as much as she needed me, even if I couldn’t admit it back then. It was like she understood me in a way no one else did.

But the thing is, I never told her who I really was. She didn’t need to know I was Paige Bueckers, the basketball player everyone at school thought they knew. She didn’t need know I was just a girl trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.

It was just us. She and I. We could be ourselves without pretending. And that felt… like a goddamn relief.

But that was the thing—she was just an anonymous name on a screen. I didn’t know who she was either. Not really. I only knew what she shared, what she let me see.

Then came that night. The night I saw her name pop up in the chat, just like always. But this time, it wasn’t just her usual message. It was a question. “What if we could meet? Like, in real life?” Oh.

I froze. And my stomach did this weird flip.

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t even know if I wanted to. What if she was someone I knew? What if she was someone I was supposed to hate? What if… it was her?

————

tag list ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @mrsarnold @d3arapril @authentic-girl03 @absolutelydreadful

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensible to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[theallyandhisbeast]

About bucktommy and 911 in general

You know, in the end, this just feels extremely cheap and cruel.

Showing bucktommy be incandescently happy in all the episodes but 8.6? Even in this ep you can feel how much they care and genuinely love each other. Audience was largely optimistic and excited about them, in a way we have never seen for other buck's LI.

Only to what? Throw it all away because you can't be bothered to write a satisfactory arc for them? Because Buck is the epitome of the guy who dates a lot but always gets broken up with? That to be able to decide if you want to be in a committed relationship if you are bi you have to explore first or else your decision is null and void?

What a way to waste potential and your characters arc.

The special thing about Tommy was that he was beloved by not only bucktommy fans, but GA, and most importantly he was a sort of representation we don't see all that much in media. People loved him because they saw themselves in him, they could connect to his journey and they were genuinely rooting for him to find love and family with Buck. To waste it all away, and to do so by basically throw at us all that we loved about them is unnecessarily cruel.

What hurts the most is that even buck and tommy themselves didn't want to break up. but instead they "must" because bowing down to harmful stereotypes about bi people who are "confused and so they must experiment before settling" is more important than telling a compelling story.

Even without bt break up, I feel like this season took a sharp dive for the worst about well thought storylines in a way that baffles him. Gerrard was reduced to a joke, as was Ortiz, both pgs that could have been used to create compelling arcs that intertwined the 118 even more but instead we got this cheap throwaway joke of a Gerrard, Ortiz was basically throw out of office in a single ep. Hotshot sl could have been fun but instead it's just.... there. And coming back too just for funsies, cause apparently that sl was more important to develop instead of a interesting queer relationship.

Athena once again doing copaganda. Bobby coming back to the 118 without any particular struggle or even guilt about dropping the bag. Things said in interviews that we expect to happen and never even made it to the screen (Eddie's loneliness? Chim and Hen having conflict over Mara? Buck feeling guilty about injuring Gerrard?).

The way Maddie cannot have any sl that is not either tied to a man or about motherhood. Madney having another surprise baby instead of them choosing on purpose to expand their family. Hen & Karen gaining trauma after trauma about their children and not having any other sl that is not tied to that. Josh just existing in the periphery and only becoming important as the "insightful token gay" but not having any type of meaningful screen time since Carson.

The other side characters like Sue, Ravi, Linda, Carla completely disappearing without anyone mentioning them. Ravi has not been given any important sl ever since he talked about having cancer and ever since reduced as a comic relief without anything to add to his character but he's a "landlord".

Chris is out of the picture for who knows how long, and is basically kept around to be traumatized over and over again. Eddie hasn't gotten any character development until first s5 and seemingly now, but i'd argue that the whole thing just felt rushed because what do you mean it takes one chat with a priest for him to do a 180° while he still isn't talking to Chris? And Eddie was the one who got the best treatment of all of them this season.

It's the way this show is slowly chipping itself away. It's the way they start a queer story line promising it would be impactful and handled with care and then half-assing it a best. It's the way the other queer characters are never explored and able to breath and revel in their queerness in the first place. Because, really, when was the last time Hen and Karen kissed on screen? When was the last time they went on a date? When was the last time their arcs were not about children or getting hurt, but just about them as individuals? And on this thread what about Maddie? Or Josh? Or Chim? Or Eddie?

Everything feels reused again and again and again without no real development than then starting the circle all over in half a season.

What a waste.

[urdreamydoodles]

Can you please make an X-Men with a goth reader?? With Logan, Scott, Remy, Rogue, Pietro, etc.

We need more x men that can handle a goth baddie 😭🙏

X-Men x Goth!Reader

How the X-Men react to their gothic s/o

Wrapped in dark elegance, your presence is a mystery, a shadow that moves beside them.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Oh my god, thank you for this prompt. I hadn't thought of that yet, and now I'm in love. (And yes, the X-Men need a goth baddie) Hope you like it <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan was immediately intrigued by your dark, edgy look. He’s always appreciated individuality, and your gothic style is no exception. There’s a look of quiet admiration in his eyes whenever you’re dressed up in dark attire, heavy eyeliner, and your signature accessories. He finds it a refreshing contrast to his own rugged appearance, and there’s a glint in his eye every time he sees you dressed to the nines in your gothic style.

- Despite his rough-and-tumble nature, Logan has a soft spot for taking care of you when you’re adjusting your outfit or fixing your makeup. He’s rough with his own appearance but becomes surprisingly delicate if you need him to hold a pin, help fasten a corset, or even steady your eyeliner in a moving vehicle. Logan finds a sort of pride in your style and will gruffly mutter about how you don’t need any of it to look “kickass” — though he never actually tells you to change.

- Logan has always been a bit protective, but seeing you in such unique attire intensifies that instinct. Whether you’re out in public or at a party with other mutants, he’s hyper-aware of anyone staring too long or making a comment. Anyone who tries to criticize or judge your appearance will face Logan’s steely glare, and if anyone dares to say something unkind, Logan will growl out a curt, “Watch your mouth.”

- Logan takes you on adventures in the forest, where your aesthetic is at home against dark trees, shadows, and the moonlight casting a pale glow. He notices the way your love of all things dark blends so well with nature, and he’ll sometimes surprise you with gifts like black roses or unique stones that he finds during his travels. There’s an unspoken connection between his wild spirit and your gothic beauty, and he feels that keenly.

- In private, Logan can’t help but be a little captivated by you. When you’re together, he takes a moment to admire you in the shadows, noticing the details in your clothing, jewelry, and makeup. He’ll run his fingers over your darkened nails or twirl a piece of your hair, finding the gothic aesthetic mysterious and alluring. He may be a man of few words, but the way he looks at you says it all.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was charmed from the moment he saw your gothic look. He’s always been drawn to unique personalities, and your dark, striking style caught his attention immediately. He’s often complimenting your bold choices and teasingly asks if you’re trying to cast a spell on him with your bewitching look. Every time you add something new to your ensemble, he’s the first to notice and give an enthusiastic approval.

- Remy loves accessorizing and will often gift you trinkets and jewelry that he thinks match your aesthetic. He has an eye for detail and will go out of his way to find vintage rings, unique chokers, or bracelets that fit right into your gothic wardrobe. Sometimes he’ll even joke that he “borrowed” it from a wealthy socialite, adding a bit of thrill to each item he gives you.

- Whenever you’re out together, Remy makes it clear to everyone around that he’s proud to be by your side. He doesn’t mind being the center of attention, and he revels in the way people stare at the two of you together. Your gothic style, paired with his smooth Cajun charm, makes you both an irresistible sight, and he absolutely loves the dramatic effect you create as a couple.

- Remy isn’t shy about getting involved in your look either. He’ll sometimes join you in wearing darker colors, occasionally adding a dark coat or some subtle accessories to match your aesthetic. And whenever you put on darker lipstick or smudged eyeliner, he’s quick to lean in, smirking and saying, “Chere, you tryin’ to make a bad boy outta me?” before sneaking a kiss and smudging your lipstick.

- At the end of the day, Remy loves the way your dark, bold look contrasts with his playful nature. In private moments, he’ll trace his fingers over your jewelry or adjust your lace gloves, smiling in admiration. There’s something about your mysterious beauty that makes him feel even more protective and infatuated, and he’ll often pull you close, murmuring about how he’s got a taste for danger — and you’re exactly his type.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt is utterly enchanted by your gothic style. To him, it’s a beautiful form of self-expression, and he admires your ability to embrace it so wholeheartedly. His own appearance has always set him apart, and your willingness to stand out with your unique look makes him feel seen and appreciated. He’ll often tell you how striking you look, calling you his “dark angel.”

- While Kurt’s aesthetic might be different, he secretly loves trying out some gothic-inspired touches when he’s with you. Whether it’s a spiked bracelet, a dark cloak, or even dabbling with black nail polish (after much convincing), he’s open to stepping out of his usual look to match your vibe, finding it fun and endearing to share in your aesthetic.

- Kurt is deeply respectful of your style, and he’s fascinated by the meaning behind the gothic elements you choose. He’ll eagerly ask about your jewelry, your makeup, or why you love dark colors. He listens intently to your answers, often seeing your look as a form of art and self-expression. He sees beauty in everything you do, and that extends deeply to your appearance.

- When you’re both out together, Kurt keeps an arm protectively around you, teleporting you out of crowds if he senses anyone staring too much. He knows how judgmental people can be, and he wants you to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. He’ll often take you on night-time adventures, leaping across rooftops with you in his arms, knowing you’ll love the thrill of the city under moonlight.

- Kurt loves your aesthetic so much that he’s inspired to draw you. When he has free time, you’ll catch him sketching in his notebook, creating little drawings of you in various gothic outfits. He never tells you about it until you find his sketches by accident, blushing furiously when you compliment his work. He’d say shyly, “Vhy wouldn’t I vish to capture such beauty?”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott’s first reaction to your gothic style is one of quiet fascination. As someone who’s usually by the book, he’s intrigued by how unapologetically yourself you are. He’s not exactly one for bold fashion statements, but he admires your confidence and individuality, often finding himself silently captivated by your unique look. He might not say it often, but his lingering glances are unmistakable.

- Scott quickly becomes a bit protective when you’re out in public, especially if people stare or make comments. He’s the type to subtly position himself between you and any potential gawkers, his arm hovering near yours in a quiet but firm show of solidarity. He respects your aesthetic completely, and he doesn’t tolerate any negativity directed your way.

- While Scott may not share your love for gothic fashion, he’ll still make an effort to understand it. He’s the type to do his research and might even surprise you with knowledge about gothic subculture, books, or art. He takes your interests seriously and often engages in thoughtful conversations, eager to understand the things you’re passionate about.

- Although Scott isn’t one for grand gestures, he’s deeply supportive in his own quiet way. He’ll surprise you with thoughtful little gifts—perhaps a book by a gothic author you admire or a vintage item he thinks would suit your style. His love language might be subtle, but he’s always thinking of ways to show his appreciation for the things that make you unique.

- Behind closed doors, Scott’s admiration for your gothic look becomes a little more apparent. He’s endlessly fascinated by the contrast between his own controlled, structured personality and your bold, mysterious beauty. He’ll sometimes run his fingers through your hair, admiring the way it frames your face, and he’ll tell you in his own reserved way just how much he’s in awe of you.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean is fascinated by your gothic style and sees it as a beautiful, creative way to express yourself. She finds herself admiring the little details in your attire, the dark layers, intricate jewelry, and the way it all complements your personality. Her curiosity often leads her to ask about your fashion choices, eager to understand what each piece means to you.

- Being empathetic and open-minded, Jean appreciates how you embrace a style that isn’t necessarily “mainstream.” She’ll often compliment you, giving you a gentle smile and reminding you that she loves your unique style. She finds it refreshingly bold and admires how it reflects your inner strength and individuality. Jean occasionally likes to join you in trying out darker makeup or accessories to match your aesthetic, finding the experience fun and bonding.

- Jean’s powers make her sensitive to people’s thoughts, and she’s hyper-aware of the judgmental looks or whispers when you’re both out in public. She’s quick to reassure you telepathically, sending you warm, encouraging thoughts if she senses any discomfort from you. Her presence always feels like a supportive, silent reminder that she’s by your side, and she has a way of making you feel completely understood.

- Sometimes, she’ll surprise you with little gifts that fit your gothic style—a delicate black pendant she found, a book of poetry she thinks you’ll love, or a flower carefully chosen to match your look. Jean’s attentiveness shows in every thoughtful gesture, and she genuinely enjoys finding ways to make you feel cherished and accepted.

- Jean often finds herself captivated by the way your gothic aesthetic contrasts with her own. In private moments, she’ll softly tell you how beautiful and mysterious you look, her gaze filled with admiration. She’ll gently brush a strand of hair from your face, whispering about how she feels lucky to be with someone as unique and bold as you.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue adores your gothic style and finds it incredibly cool. She’s all about breaking the mold, so seeing you embrace a bold, dark aesthetic instantly impresses her. She’s the type to playfully nudge you and say, “You look killer, sugah,” whenever you put together a particularly striking look, and she often asks for style tips to incorporate some gothic elements into her own outfits.

- She loves joining you in shopping trips for gothic clothes and accessories. Rogue has a thing for statement pieces herself, so she’s always on the lookout for something edgy that could match both of your styles. She’s especially drawn to things like dark leather jackets, silver rings, and anything that screams “rebellious”—finding it exciting to shop with someone who has a taste for the unconventional.

- Rogue has a protective streak and won’t stand for anyone disrespecting you or making you feel out of place. If someone stares too long or makes a comment, Rogue has no problem giving them a sharp, intimidating glare. She’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself, and she’ll always make sure you feel comfortable and safe being yourself around her.

- Your gothic look and overall vibe sometimes make her feel a bit soft around you, and she loves that. Rogue admires your confidence and how you carry yourself, and she’s grateful for the quiet strength she feels from being with you. Sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, she’ll sit close and tell you how she feels like she’s found a kindred spirit in you—someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.

- In private, Rogue is endlessly affectionate and attentive. She loves taking in all the little details, like how you accessorize or the particular makeup you wear. She’ll sometimes brush her gloved hand across your cheek, marveling at how stunning you look and making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. With you, she can be her true, unfiltered self, and she’s grateful for that.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is immediately intrigued by your gothic aesthetic. He’s a person of elegance and sophistication, but he appreciates when someone dares to be different. He’ll often give you a thoughtful once-over, his piercing gaze lingering on you in silent admiration. Though he doesn’t say much at first, he finds himself fascinated by your unique look and style.

- Erik’s keen intellect often leads him to inquire about the historical roots of the gothic subculture, and he listens intently as you explain its influences. He sees a lot of strength in your choice to embrace a bold, non-conformist style and has a profound respect for your commitment to your aesthetic. He’ll occasionally surprise you with antique jewelry or rare finds that match your taste, finding a sort of thrill in choosing gifts you’ll treasure.

- When you’re out together, Erik is a silent but powerful presence, always by your side and subtly protective. Anyone who dares look down on you or make a judgmental comment will quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his steely glare. He values self-expression and has no patience for those who would try to undermine yours, making it very clear that he respects you fully and will tolerate no less from others.

- He has a refined appreciation for your style, often drawing parallels between it and his own preference for timeless, dignified looks. In private, he’ll run a hand over a piece of your jewelry or trace his fingers along the intricate details of your clothes, remarking in a low voice about how well it all suits you. He finds your appearance mesmerizing and genuinely enjoys the aura of mystery you bring with you.

- Erik doesn’t often show vulnerability, but with you, he finds himself at ease. He admires how your gothic style reflects resilience, a quality he holds dear, and he sees in you a kindred spirit—a reminder of strength in individuality. When it’s just the two of you, he’ll quietly express how he feels lucky to have found someone who embraces the world with such fierce independence.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby is absolutely fascinated by your gothic style. As someone who’s always been a bit playful and lighthearted, he finds your dark, brooding aesthetic to be thrillingly different from anything he’s used to. He’ll often tease you affectionately, calling you his “goth queen” or “dark angel” in that playful way only he can pull off, genuinely admiring your commitment to the look.

- He’s endlessly curious about your fashion choices and will often ask questions about the different elements of your style, from the jewelry to the makeup. Bobby isn’t afraid to experiment either—sometimes you’ll catch him jokingly trying on your rings or attempting your dark eyeliner just for laughs. He loves getting you to crack a smile, even if it means looking a little ridiculous himself.

- Bobby is all about hyping you up in public. He finds your look incredibly cool and will proudly show you off whenever you’re together. If people give you weird looks, he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder and declare, “Yeah, that’s my goth babe—jealous?” His lighthearted energy brings a fun dynamic to your relationship, making you feel completely accepted for who you are.

- Despite his own upbeat personality, Bobby finds your gothic aesthetic deeply captivating. He’s fascinated by how well it reflects your personality, and he often jokes about being “entranced” by your dark, mysterious look. Sometimes, he’ll even ask if you could show him a bit more about the gothic subculture, genuinely interested in learning about something that means so much to you.

- In quiet moments, Bobby is surprisingly thoughtful, admiring your makeup or your choice of accessories in a way that’s tender and sincere. He’ll tell you that you look amazing and that he’s lucky to have someone so unique and bold by his side. Beneath all his jokes, there’s a deep respect for your individuality, and he genuinely loves how your gothic aesthetic adds a layer of mystery and allure to your relationship.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda is deeply drawn to your gothic aesthetic and feels an immediate kinship with you. She’s familiar with the feeling of being different, of standing apart, so she instantly understands your choice to embrace a darker look. She loves how your style is unapologetically you and finds comfort in how it resonates with the magic and mystery she herself embodies.

- Wanda is genuinely captivated by the intricacies of your look. She’ll admire the subtle details—maybe a delicate, ornate ring or a shadowed makeup look that speaks to your artistry. Sometimes she’ll playfully use her magic to make a small dark aura shimmer around you, a soft, enchanted touch to match your aesthetic. It’s her way of embracing your uniqueness and showing that she appreciates every part of you.

- When you’re both out together, she’s proud to be seen by your side. If people stare or pass judgment, Wanda doesn’t let it affect her. She’ll take your hand and give you a knowing smile, her quiet confidence making you feel fully accepted. Her serene presence has a calming effect, and you know you’re safe with her, free to be yourself without any need to explain or justify.

- Wanda loves sharing her own story with you, talking about the darker aspects of her past and the magic that’s sometimes misunderstood by others. She feels like you understand her struggles and admires how your gothic style speaks to resilience and defiance. Sometimes, she’ll create small magical gifts for you—a necklace that glows faintly with enchantment or a rose that never wilts, gestures to show her affection and appreciation for who you are.

- In private, she’s incredibly gentle and open, drawn to how your darker style balances her sometimes chaotic world. Wanda will often express how much she cherishes you, how your individuality and strength help her feel more grounded. She finds comfort in your presence, and there’s a deep, almost otherworldly bond that connects you both, as if she’s found a piece of herself in you.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro is absolutely fascinated by your gothic look and finds it incredibly cool. He’s the type to whistle and tease you, calling you his “gothic queen” or “dark angel” with a big, proud grin. Your style is so different from his fast-paced, casual vibe, and he loves how it sets you apart from everyone else he knows.

- He loves showing you off and finds joy in watching other people’s reactions when they see you two together. Pietro has a protective streak, so if anyone gives you a weird look or mutters a snide comment, he’s quick to shut them down with a snappy comeback. He’s proud of your unique style and makes it known that he wouldn’t want you any other way.

- Pietro’s energy is a fun contrast to your aesthetic, and he often makes it his mission to get you to crack a smile. Whether it’s by jokingly trying on your dark lipstick or attempting your makeup style (usually ending up with eyeliner everywhere), he’s always trying to bring some lightheartedness into your day. He loves that your seriousness balances him out, and he always feels like his life is a bit more exciting with you in it.

- He’s incredibly curious about all things gothic and will often ask questions about your music, style, or favorite bands. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you by blasting one of your favorite gothic rock songs while you’re together, just to show he’s been paying attention. He’s always eager to learn more about what makes you tick and is genuinely interested in understanding the darker elements of your personality.

- In quieter moments, Pietro will tell you how lucky he feels to be with someone who’s so unapologetically themselves. He’s a bit of a show-off, but around you, he’s sincere, openly admiring the depth you bring to his life. He loves the contrast between your mysterious vibe and his vibrant personality, and he feels like you’re his perfect opposite, bringing balance to his world.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura’s first reaction to your gothic style is quiet fascination. She’s not one to comment much on appearances, but she admires how self-assured you seem with your unique look. She respects individuality, and your dark aesthetic quickly becomes something she associates with strength and resilience—a reminder that you’re someone who can stand out and face the world on your own terms.

- She’s very protective of you, especially if you’re out together and encounter anyone who looks down on your style. Laura doesn’t tolerate any disrespect, and if she senses anyone judging you, they’ll get a deadly glare. Your relationship with Laura is based on mutual respect, and she’ll go out of her way to make sure you’re never made to feel lesser because of how you look.

- Laura isn’t one for big gestures, but she shows her affection in small, meaningful ways. If she notices a new accessory or makeup look, she’ll give you a subtle nod of approval or say, “You look nice.” It’s her way of showing that she notices the little things and that she values the care you put into your style. Occasionally, she’ll even ask for your input if she wants to try something different with her look, trusting your judgment.

- Sometimes, Laura’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she’ll sit with you to ask questions about the gothic subculture. She respects that there’s a deeper meaning behind your aesthetic, and learning about your interests helps her feel closer to you. She listens intently, taking in every word with her characteristic seriousness, and it’s clear she appreciates the passion you have for your style.

- When it’s just the two of you, Laura lets her guard down and shows a softer side, often complimenting you in her own way. She’ll tell you that you’re “different from anyone else,” and coming from her, it’s the highest praise. With Laura, you know you’re accepted fully, and she values the unique presence you bring to her life, finding comfort and strength in the dark beauty that defines you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade is absolutely thrilled by your gothic style and finds it ridiculously cool. He’s the type to immediately start calling you his “dark and mysterious love,” and he’s not shy about showing you off. He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere, proudly bragging to anyone who’ll listen about how awesome you look. He loves that your aesthetic stands out and often tries to “match” you in his own chaotic way.

- Being Wade, he’s constantly trying to make you laugh, especially since your serious demeanor intrigues him. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, and make exaggerated compliments about how you’re his “queen of darkness.” He’s always trying to get a smile out of you, relishing the challenge of breaking through your stoic exterior, and finds it endlessly amusing when he actually succeeds.

- Wade also loves dressing up to match your gothic look on occasion, though his interpretations are… creative. He’ll try on dark makeup or leather jackets and end up looking like a rock star from the 80s. Despite how outlandish he looks, his attempts are always genuine, and he adores the way your aesthetic complements his unpredictable personality.

- Wade is surprisingly sensitive to how the world judges appearances and takes it personally if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself and will launch into a full-fledged speech about how amazing you are, shutting down any naysayers with his trademark over-the-top theatrics. With Wade, you know you’ll always be celebrated for exactly who you are.

- In private, Wade will tell you how he admires the confidence and mystery you carry with your style. Beneath his antics, there’s a genuine admiration for your strength and individuality. He’ll hold your hand, make eye contact, and tell you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, adding with a smirk, “Even if you look like you might summon a demon any second.” It’s his way of saying he’s completely smitten, and he loves you just as you are.

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐀𝐫𝐦��𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲

cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.

You knew it.

You fucking knew it the whole damn time.

At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—

Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.

Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"

Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"

"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."

"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."

Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."

Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.

"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.

You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.

Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.

You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.

Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.

"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.

"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.

"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."

"From sex?"

"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.

You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.

You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.

"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.

"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."

"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.

You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.

It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."

"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."

"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."

"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."

"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.

It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.

Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.

The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.

"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"

As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.

"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"

"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.

"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."

"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.

"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.

Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.

It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.

"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."

"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."

"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."

To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.

The vampire Armand?

More like Armand, your personal cockslut.

You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[solxamber]

Heyya saw you're still open, so I will request my favorite character. I've been seeing a lot of RSA!Silver. So it's about Silver and MC/Yuu still not in relationships. Then some shenanigans happen. Where there's RSA version Silver shows up. I'm not sure if he can be a different character or personality, but the interpretation is up to you.

Imagine how RSA! Silver can be more up front showing affection to Yuu but Silver is not. It ends up confusing Yuu's feelings and makes Silver try his best to show his affection too. It's making RSA!Silver and Silver fighting over Yuu. Hopefully no problem.

Silver x reader x RSA! Silver

loved the idea! thank you for waiting and i hope you like it <3

It all starts during a spell misfire, and suddenly an RSA student who looks exactly like Silver but acts a little differently is standing in the middle of the headmaster’s office, looking only mildly concerned. “Well, well, what do we have here?” Crowley had crowed, immediately shoving the “guest” into your care.

The RSA Silver is… different. He’s friendlier, more open, and somehow even a little more dazzling with that unguarded smile he flashes your way. He introduces himself as a knight-in-training who’s proud to serve his prince with a wink and, surprisingly, a slight bow directed at you.

“This should be fun!” he says with a laugh, catching your stare.

Silver — your Silver — is already watching from the shadows, his calm gaze hardening when he sees RSA Silver’s warmth towards you. Normally, Silver isn’t easily rattled, but he finds himself lingering close, always observing this other version of himself who seems so openly comfortable with you.

The jealousy is subtle at first: he stands a little closer, making excuses to keep you nearby when RSA Silver is around.

And you? You’re a little bewildered yourself. This easy-going RSA Silver is affectionate in ways you aren’t used to — patting your shoulder when you’re joking, walking close enough to brush your arm, offering to help you with even the most minor tasks.

He’s friendly, sure, but it stirs up a mix of confusing emotions when compared to the quieter, more reserved Silver you know.

One afternoon, RSA Silver and Silver both linger in the garden as you sit with them. You’re laughing at something RSA Silver says, and he leans in, his expression soft. “I know we only just met, but it feels like I’ve known you for ages. When I leave, would you—”

Silver clears his throat, cutting RSA Silver off. “There’s no need to trouble them,” he says, almost flatly, surprising you with the way his usually calm expression is edged with something sharper.

RSA Silver just smirks. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” he teases, crossing his arms. “But it’s cute.”

Silver’s jaw clenches. He moves closer, his presence steady and warm at your side, more open than usual. His gaze softens when he looks at you, a small but genuine smile on his lips. “I don’t think you need anyone else,” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

By the time RSA Silver’s two days are nearly up, the confusion you feel is almost overwhelming. Your heart’s been tugged between two versions of the same person, each showing you a different side.

When RSA Silver finally approaches you, his expression is thoughtful, almost reluctant. “I’ll be leaving soon, but… I’d like you to come with me. My world could use someone like you.”

It’s tempting, for a moment. You glance at Silver, the one who’s been by your side all along, steady and loyal, the one whose quiet strength has already won your heart.

You shake your head with a soft smile, looking back at RSA Silver. “I appreciate it, but… I think I’ve already found what I’m looking for here.”

RSA Silver accepts your answer gracefully, with a small, wistful smile. “He’s lucky, then,” he says, clapping Silver on the shoulder in a final parting gesture before disappearing in a swirl of magic.

As soon as he’s gone, Silver’s gaze locks onto yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his hand reaching for yours. “I… I wasn’t sure if you—” His words trail off, and without thinking, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I always liked you, Silver. Just you.”

His face softens, his cheeks just barely pink, and he smiles — the genuine smile you don’t see very often. “I was hoping you'd say that”

Masterlist

[divinesolas]

happy birthday to me.

no i am not back from my hiatus but its my birthday and the only way i can really celebrate is with my bb (no taglist this is just very self indulgent)

You can feel the dusting of lips ghosting over your face as you slowly gain consciousness. When your eyes flutter open those warm familiar ones youve loved since you first saw greet you back, crescenting as he smiles. “happy birthday my love.” you hum in return mumbling a thank you while your arms reach around his neck as he presses another kiss against your cheek. he snuggles into your neck while you adjust your eyes to the light in the room. “what time is it?” its much later than you thought it would be, he clearly let you sleep as he looks wide awake hes probably been up for a good bit before you woke up or more so he woke you up. “why didn’t you wake me?” “you looked so cute how could i wake you.” a light knock to the back of his head and you can feel his smile pressing into your skin.

He pulls away far too soon for your liking and gets up off the bed attempting to tug you up, “come on we have things to do, its your big day.” you put a pretend pout on your face and hold put your arms, “carry me?” you were joking, more than ready to stand up yourself but he quickly scooped you up into his arms and wouldn’t put you down as he made his way to the bathroom despite your squeals, “put me down!” he only obliges as the two of you enter the bathroom and he places you down on the counter. you find yourself asking him what hes got planned today while he grabs your toothbrush to wet it for you, a proud smile grows on his face as he shakes his head. “i couldn’t ruin the surprise, i have the whole day planned out dont worry you’ll love it.”

“what if i dont wanna do anything today?” he clearly falters, not expecting you to say that but he covers his disappointment with a smile as he hands your your toothbrush, “as long as your happy babe i dont mind.” you slap his shoulder, your body vibrating with laughter, “im kidding baby im looking forward to whatever you have planned.” he scoffs as you happy brush your teeth hopping off the counter to look at him through the mirror. “yeah yeah yeah ill see you downstairs.”

you quickly turn to stop him, and manage to gargle out and i love you and he smiles shaking his head leaning forward to kiss your forehead before he heads downstairs. “love you too baby.”

[ganggangscenarios]

Platinum Heart (Diamond heart pt.2)

Part 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You get the opportunity to meet Jungkook's friends.

Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst

Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Smut

You carefully slide into Jungkook's car, setting your handbag on the floor before fastening your seatbelt. It was Friday evening, and after a long week of work, you were about to embark on a weekend trip with your incredibly handsome boyfriend. All week, he'd been sending you links to cozy cafes and hiking trails near the cabin where you'd be staying. You couldn't help feeling a bit nervous; it was a group trip, and this would be the first time you'd meet his close friends and their partners.

Though your confidence had grown lately-thanks to both your hard work and Jungkook's unwavering support-you still had your insecurities. You couldn't shake the worry of being judged for wearing a T-shirt and shorts to the pool. You'd just reached a place of comfort being in your underwear around Jungkook; the thought of wearing a swimsuit in front of new faces was a little overwhelming.

"I missed you today," Jungkook says, leaning over to steal a quick kiss.

You laugh and roll your eyes. "You saw me this morning!"

He pouts, then kisses you again before putting the car in drive. Soon enough, you're both on the open road, heading toward the countryside for your weekend escape. You gaze out the window, taking in the surroundings as the sun dips below the horizon.

Every now and then, Jungkook glances over at you with a soft smile. He'd been so happy these past few months, feeling like this was the best start to a relationship he'd ever had.

You were a strong advocate for open communication, always encouraging him to share his feelings, and he loved learning more about you-what made you laugh, what moved you to tears, what brought you comfort. He also loved the way you had become more confident with him, especially in intimate moments. Since your first time together, you'd let down your guard and started to believe him when he said he loved your body. It was apparent in the way you'd sometimes take charge, a confidence that made his heart race. The memory of your last night together lingered in his mind, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, anticipation building for when you'd finally lock the door to your cabin room.

Suddenly, the soft music filling the car was interrupted by the ring of Jungkook's phone.

He quickly answered, and a deep voice echoed through the speakers.

"Where are you?" the voice asked.

You glanced at the screen and saw the name

'Taehyung'—a name you'd heard often but had yet to put a face to. At least now, you could put a voice to it.

"We're about 30 minutes away," Jungkook replied. "Going to stop at a rest area real quick. I kinda kidnapped her right after work, so l'm treating her to some top-tier rest stop food. I think a corndog sounds good." He smiled at you while he spoke.

Grinning, you placed your hand on his thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, pretending to pull over, which made you laugh.

“I hope the only corndog you’re giving her is the kind that’s battered, dipped in potato, and deep-fried,” Taehyung joked through the speaker. “We don’t want her meeting everyone for the first time looking exhausted.”

“Don’t worry! He’s not getting near me with his corndog until I get the food I was promised!” you shot back, making Taehyung laugh.

“Well, Jimin and Cleo are already at the cabin, and we’re about the same distance away as you,” Taehyung replied. “Let’s meet at the rest stop and drive in together.”

Jungkook agreed, hanging up swiftly.

Before you knew it, you were pulling into the rest stop parking lot. You watched out the window as families exited their cars and headed inside. Noticing an empty spot, you pointed it out, and Jungkook backed in smoothly, turning off the engine. You had to admit, there was something irresistibly attractive about watching him drive.You grab his hand before he has the chance to get out of the car. He’s about to speak when you press your lips to his. You caress his cheek and let your other hand rest at the back of his neck, as your fingers place with his hair. He deepens the kiss, slowly slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth. You glide your tongue along his for a short while before pulling away.

“I—I thought you didn’t want my ‘corndog’ until you’d eaten. But that kiss… makes it hard for me to let you leave this car.” Jungkook licks his lips, his hand casually drifting to your thigh, barely covered by the hem of your skirt. The fabric had ridden up when you leaned over to kiss him earlier, your sudden move catching him off guard.

You almost suggest that he park somewhere more secluded so you could playfully test just how hard it would be for him to let you out of the car. But before you can say anything, the sound of a loud bang on the windshield startles both of you.

You both look up and see a very handsome man standing there, a wide grin on his face.

“Taehyung!” Jungkook exclaims, his surprise evident as he unbuckles his seatbelt and throws open the door. You watch as the two men embrace, their muffled voices almost lost behind the thick glass of the windshield. A moment later, you hear Jungkook say your name, and both men’s eyes turn to you.

You quickly grab your purse, sliding your phone inside and throwing a glance at Jungkook before exiting the car. Taehyung’s warm, bear-like hug almost knocks the air from your lungs, but you welcome it with a smile.

“It’s so great to finally meet the woman who’s making my bro so happy!” He pulls away, beaming.

“I’m Taehyung,” he adds, flashing you a boyish grin.

You smile brightly in return and introduce yourself. As you do, you notice Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. His posture has changed, the easygoing demeanor that usually defined him now gone. His shoulders are tense, his jaw tight. It’s subtle, but it’s there—a furrowed brow that mirrors the one he gets whenever you greet Namjoon a little too warmly at the gym.

A wave of unease settles in your chest. He’s usually so relaxed, but the presence of his friend, who’s conventionally handsome and kind, has thrown him off. And you can’t help but feel a little guilty for not noticing sooner.

You step away from Taehyung’s hug and walk over to Jungkook, gently grabbing his hand as the three of you make your way towards the building.

“Where’s Sohyun?” Jungkook asks, his eyes scanning the area as if expecting her to pop out from behind a tree or car.

Taehyung’s expression falters, and you instantly recognize it. It’s the same look of hurt and betrayal you’ve worn too many times to count—something familiar, something you know all too well. The kind of expression you never want to wear again.

“Uh… she’s not coming,” Taehyung answers, his voice tight, his words curt.

Jungkook seems ready to probe further, but you gently squeeze his hand, giving him a subtle shake of your head. He hesitates, his brows furrowing, but after a moment, he nods, clearly not wanting to push.

“No worries. I guess it’s just gonna be us three guys and you two girls,” Jungkook says, attempting to lighten the mood.

But Taehyung doesn’t seem so sure. He hesitates again, like he’s unsure how to say what’s on his mind.

“N-no, still three girls,” he stammers, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I invited someone else. I tried calling you about it, but I needed to pick you up and felt awkward texting about it…” He trails off, looking almost embarrassed.

Jungkook, clearly confused, lets go of your hand and places his hands firmly on his hips, his posture shifting into a fatherly stance. His eyes narrow in that way you’ve seen him do a thousand times, the same way he waits for you to explain why you left a pile of dirty laundry in the middle of the living room.

You look back and forth between them, wondering what this all means. Before anyone can say anything more, a voice calls out from across the parking lot.

“Taehyung! I told you to wait for me!”

You all turn to see a striking woman with shoulder-length brown hair striding toward you, wearing a fitted graphic t-shirt and shorts that show off toned, sun-kissed legs. Taehyung immediately shifts on his feet, turning slightly toward Jungkook, the unease visible in his posture.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, but Jungkook is too stunned to answer. His mouth falls open, and for a split second, you think he might say something, but the words don’t come. His eyes are locked on the woman, as she approaches.

“Taehyung! I told you to wait for me!” The woman exclaims, practically throwing herself into his arms as she wraps hers around his waist.

Jungkook’s face hardens as he takes in the sight. He stands frozen, unable to process what’s happening. That woman—his ex—Jisoo, was now in Taehyung’s arms. The woman who had shattered his heart before you came along, the one who’d made him swear off relationships for two years. And now, Taehyung—his closest friend—was with her.

You can see the shock, the betrayal, the pain flash across his face, but before you can react, Jisoo notices you.

“Jungkook,” she says, her voice laced with something both familiar and unsettling. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes skim over him—lazily, like she’s assessing what she’s missed. When her gaze finally lands on you, she smiles, though it’s more than just polite. It’s something else, something that feels… off.

You watch as Jisoo’s eyes flick over you—your dress, your posture, the hand Jungkook is holding tightly around your waist. Then, she smiles, almost smugly. “It’s been a while. You look good,” she says to Jungkook, her voice dripping with something you can’t quite put your finger on. Lust? Curiosity? Or maybe something darker?

Jungkook stands silently, pulling you closer to him, his arm instinctively tightening around your waist. You glance up at him. His jaw is clenched, his expression a mixture of frustration and quiet anger. But when he meets your eyes, his expression softens—just for a moment.

He doesn’t need to think about her anymore. Not when he has you. He hasn’t thought about her in so long, not since the day he realized that you were the one who helped him move on, who helped him heal.

He leans down, about to press a quick kiss to your lips, but before he can, Jisoo interrupts them, holding out her hand.

“I’m Jisoo. Nice to meet you,” she says, her tone feigning politeness, but there’s an edge to it. Her fingers hover just above yours, waiting for you to reciprocate.

You glance down at her hand before quickly shaking it, the discomfort in your chest growing. “Nice to meet you,” you reply, trying your best to keep your tone neutral.

You can feel Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightening as he pulls you closer. You glance up at him and, with a soft, reassuring smile, lean your head against his shoulder.

“Where’s that corndog I’ve heard so much about?” you ask, trying to redirect the conversation, your voice light as you move forward with him, away from the awkward tension.

Behind you, you hear the faint sound of raised voices. You don’t turn around, but the conversation between Taehyung and Jisoo seems to be escalating, and you can’t help but wonder what’s really going on between them.

Jungkook told you to pick a table, just the two of you, as he headed toward the brightly colored counter to order your deep-fried snacks. He was insistent on sitting alone, away from your weekend companions. You didn’t ask why, not yet, but you would. The unease in your chest had only grown since you first set foot in the food court, and you had a sinking feeling it was going to get worse before it got better.

Your eyes scanned the bustling food court as you waited for Jungkook to return. Your mind wandered for a moment, but when you looked back toward the table, you caught the unmistakable gaze of Jisoo across the way. She was looking directly at you, her hand casually gesturing for you to come over. You hesitated but felt a strange pull. You dropped your bag onto the seat and, against your better judgment, walked over to her.

“What’s up?” You asked, folding your arms, trying to keep a cool composure.

Jisoo’s smile was wide, but something about it made your stomach twist. The first time she smiled at you, it had felt almost… too perfect. Now, it just made you feel uneasy.

"Taehyung went to get his food," she began, her voice sweet but somehow too syrupy, as if it was trying to mask something. "I thought I’d pop by the convenience store for a quick salad. I figured you’d want to come with me." She paused, giving you a look that felt more pointed than friendly. "Jungkook’s your personal trainer, right? Tae mentioned it to me. He’s usually so strict with his diet. One year, he wouldn’t even eat his own birthday cake. I lost so much weight that year. He was—" She cuts herself off, her eyes scanning you briefly. "But I guess he’s changed."

Jungkook was the one who had encouraged you to be more comfortable with food, more relaxed, to enjoy life without the guilt you’d carried for years. But now, you felt the weight of Jisoo's words sink in, like they were slipping under your skin, poking at a vulnerability you thought was buried.

Her eyes raked up your body slowly, lingering on your midsection. It felt invasive, uncomfortable. You wanted to cover up, but you couldn't, and before you knew it, the pencil skirt you had worn proudly this morning—feeling good, feeling confident—now felt tight, unflattering, wrong. You looked down. The lumps and bumps that you usually tried to ignore now felt all too obvious. Confidence was a fragile thing. It took so long to build, and it only took one look, one comment to knock it down.

Jisoo didn’t stop there. "When we were together, we used to be known as that gym couple," she said, almost as if she were reminiscing. "Always in matching sets." Her eyes gleamed as she glanced at you. "But it’s nice to see that he has other clothes now."

You could feel your pulse quicken, your fingers tightening around your arms as you tried to hold on to what little composure you had left.

She smiled, clearly satisfied with the impact of her words.

"Oh!" She gasped, feigning surprise. "He didn’t tell you?"

No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t told you anything, not about her, not about their past, not about what they’d shared. He’d never mentioned that they had been together, that she was his ex-girlfriend. You knew there was history between them, but the look on his face when he saw her earlier… it suddenly made so much sense. He hadn’t told you. And now, Jisoo’s presence here was more than just awkward—it was a reminder that Jungkook could still be pulled back into her orbit. What if she was the one who got away?

"We’re so... different now," she continued, her eyes gliding over you one more time, as if you were some kind of puzzle. "So I’m sure he’s different with you." She then glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of Jungkook returning to the table.

"Kooky’s back at your table now," she said, her tone far too sweet. "Enjoy your fried goods!"

You didn’t trust her smile as you turned back toward your table. The sinking feeling in your stomach wouldn’t go away. You had to force yourself to sit down, grab your bag, and keep your hands from trembling.

Jungkook smiled at you, his hands holding up the corndog like some sort of peace offering, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. You didn’t feel like smiling back.

“When were you gonna tell me that Jisoo is your ex-girlfriend?” you asked, your voice low, brow furrowed, lips turned down in quiet frustration.

Jungkook froze. The corndog slipped from his fingers, landing softly on the table. He had planned to tell you, maybe in the car or later that night when you were alone. He just hadn’t expected things to go like this. His mind raced, and for a brief moment, he wished he’d prepared for this conversation.

“Who told you?” he asked, his tone tentative, but there was something about it that didn’t sit right.

You couldn’t believe your ears. He was asking you who told you? After all of her comments, after that whole conversation you just had, he was asking that?

“She did,” you replied curtly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, a defensive posture that you couldn’t shake.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face, clearly frustrated with himself. He hadn’t expected Jisoo to spring this on you like she did. The fact that she was here, and the way she’d slipped back into his life so easily—it made him feel small, like he had allowed something to linger that shouldn’t have. But it was never supposed to be this way. She wasn’t supposed to make you feel small.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, though his voice still had that edge of frustration. “I honestly didn’t know she was coming, and I should’ve told you earlier. I just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. I’ll explain everything about her tonight, I promise. But please, just eat something. You’ve had a long day.”

He reached out, taking your hand across the table, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your palm, trying to soothe you.

Your eyes lingered over the spread of food—saucy rice cakes, crispy golden corndogs, the fishcake soup—but you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a bite. Jisoo’s words played over and over in your head, and the last thing you felt like doing was eating.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” you said, offering him a tight, forced smile. “You eat.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes softening with concern. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He’d seen that look on your face before, and it made his stomach twist. It was the same expression you had when that woman at work had made a comment about your body a few weeks ago—about how she would never eat again and how lucky you were to have a personal trainer boyfriend. That night, Jungkook had reminded you how beautiful you were, inside and out. And it had helped, for a moment. But now, this? It felt like everything was slipping again.

“What the hell did she say to you?” His voice hardened with anger, the protective instinct flaring up in him.

You shook your head, pulling away slightly. The conversation was too much, too soon. You had your walls up, and you weren’t ready to address what had just happened. You communicated, then shut down, and Jungkook had learned to give you the space you needed.

“Babe, please,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. “I want to fix this. Please, let me make it better.”

You looked down at your hands, your chest tight with a mix of hurt and confusion.

“Then take me home,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. You were meant to meet his friends, enjoy the weekend, and for the first time in a while, he had planned to tell you that he loved you. This wasn’t how it was meant to happen.

“If that’s what you want...” he said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

You watched him scramble to find his car keys, his eyes darting across the table.

“They’re in your pocket,” you said, smirking lightly despite everything.

Jungkook paused, then laughed softly, shaking his head at himself. Jisoo, watching from across the food court, looked on with a bemused expression as the tension between you two melted for just a second. But as soon as you both started laughing, she scoffed, hiding it behind a fake cough.

“Something was in my throat,” she said, her smile more knowing than ever.

Jungkook slid into the seat beside you, lifting you effortlessly into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, his lips close to your ear. You rested your head against his shoulder, the chaos of the world outside temporarily quieting as you found comfort in his presence.

You walk to the car, hand in hand, with a takeout box swinging from Jungkook’s free hand. He’d managed to talk you into staying, promising to make it up to you. Before you get in, you pull him into a tight hug, feeling the warmth of his lips brush the top of your forehead.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” you murmur softly into his ear.

He shakes his head, his heart swelling with gratitude. He knew you were the kind of partner who understood, who could have reacted so much worse, and he still would’ve understood.

“No,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you. I should’ve been more open. If it had been up to me, I would’ve driven you home right then—if it meant we’d be okay. I still would. I just want us to be more than okay. I…” He pauses, almost slipping into something more, but he stops himself. Not here, not now. He wanted to tell you perfectly, when the time was right.

“I love spending time with you,” he continues, his voice soft but steady. “And I want to share you with the people I care about.”

He hopes you don’t notice how fast his heart is racing.

You tilt your head up at him, lips puckered slightly. Without a word, he leans down, and you both melt into a deep kiss, the kind that feels like the world stops spinning just for the two of you.

======

Before long, you pull up to a stunning house, its warm lights glowing from within. The lake is dark, the water shimmering silver beneath the moon’s glow. Gravel crunches underfoot as you step out of the car, breathing in the cool, fresh air. You close your eyes for a moment to take it all in, feeling the weight of the weekend ahead. You’re going to make the most of this. You’re the baddest bitch. Nicki Minaj said it best:

"I'm a bad bitch, fuck the bitch. Bitch get slick, I'ma cut the b-"

Your thoughts are interrupted by a shriek, and your eyes snap open to see Jisoo bouncing excitedly.

“It’s bringing back so many memories!” she exclaims. “We used to come here all the time! Right, guys?” She looks to Taehyung and Jungkook for confirmation.

The air shifts. You freeze, a knot forming in your stomach. This is the place he used to bring her—his ex. The realization hits you like a cold wave. You’re about to sleep in the same bed where they once did.

“No, we didn’t,” Jungkook interjects quickly, his tone sharper than usual. “You spent one afternoon here. Once. And you weren’t even allowed inside.”

Jisoo’s face falls, and she quickly glances over at you, suddenly aware of the tension in the air.

“Let’s go inside, babe,” Taehyung says, gently guiding her toward the door, his hand resting on her lower back.

You stand there for a moment, trying to shake off the discomfort, but before you can move, Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you gently to the side.

You look up at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze.

“She’s never been inside,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “We never shared a bed here. You’re the first woman I’ve brought here… and you’ll be the last. This place means something different now.”

You feel your heart soften at his words. It’s clear he’s trying to reassure you, trying to make sure you know that this weekend is about you and not his past. You give him a small, affectionate smile and nod, your tension easing a little as you follow him inside.

The house is more breathtaking than you imagined. It’s cozy yet luxurious, warm and inviting with just the right amount of opulence.

“Hi! I’ve heard so much about you!” A man with blonde hair and an easy smile steps in front of you as you slip off your shoes.

“You must be Jimin!” you say, recognizing him instantly.

Jungkook chuckles, kicking off his shoes and pulling Jimin into a bear hug. You can’t help but laugh at the playful exchange between the two men.

“And I’m Cleo!” A gorgeous woman steps out from the kitchen, her smile as bright as the sun. She’s warm and welcoming, giving you a tight hug before you can even introduce yourself.

This is such a contrast to the awkward energy you felt with Jisoo and Taehyung. Cleo's kindness immediately puts you at ease.

She leads you to your room, where Jungkook has already set down your bags. The men are getting things ready outside by the fire pit.

“Jungkook never stops talking about you,” Cleo says as she arranges a few things in the room, clearly excited. “Whenever we call, he spends the first half of the conversation gushing about you. He’s a total softie, by the way. And, I’ve heard all about your French toast. We bought everything he said you’d need! Would you mind making it for breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile at her easy warmth and kindness. She shows you the bathroom and where to find extra toiletries before excusing herself to leave you to get settled.

Once you’re alone, you strip down and hop into the shower, the warm water helping to ease the tension still lingering in your muscles from the car ride and the awkward moments with Jisoo.

When you step out, wrapped in a towel, you find that Jungkook has already brought your bags inside. He’s sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone, but he looks up immediately when he hears the bathroom door open. His eyes soften as they meet yours.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were going to shower?" he teases, his voice low and playful. "I would've joined you."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. You bend down to grab some clothes from your bag and quickly pull on a hoodie and a pair of shorts, tucking the latter under your towel.

Jungkook watches you, a suggestive grin spreading across his face, but his gaze is also filled with something else—concern, maybe, or uncertainty.

“What?” you laugh, walking over to the bed, trying to play it off.

He sits up and swings his legs over to sit on the edge, his hands finding your waist. He pulls you close, his head resting gently on your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair.

His voice is quieter now, almost like he’s unsure how to tread. "I don't think anyone would mind if we just stayed in tonight. We’ve got some… making up to do. You know, for the whole 'ex-girlfriend' situation."

His hands slip down to your thighs, his touch gentle but possessive, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. There’s an unspoken question hanging in the air—are you okay?

You give him a soft smile, your fingers continuing to play with his hair as you whisper, “I’m good. I’m here with you. That’s all that matters.”

He exhales, a weight seemingly lifting from his shoulders as he leans into you, his expression softening. It’s clear now: he's more concerned about you than about anything else. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

He moves his hands to your rump, slightly squeezing as he continues up your back. His fingertips graze your skin as they make the journey to the middle of your back. He feels no resistance, no extra material in the way.

“No bra, huh? It’s like you knew this would happen.” His brows wiggle enthusiastically.

You throw your head back in laughter.

“You just saw me get out of the shower, I didn’t have time to put on a bra!” 

His heart warms at seeing you laugh. He only wants to see you happy, he wants nothing more to be the cause of some of that happiness.

Suddenly, you feel his hand part your thighs, knuckles skimming along the seam of your shorts, the seam that covered your centre. He doesn’t break eye contact as his fingertips feel for your clit under the thin fabric. You bite your lip as you look down at him.

“No panties either? You naughty girl.”

He rubs with more pressure, earning a moan from you. You roll your eyes and push him back, his back lands on the bed. Before he could ask what you were doing, you crawled on the bed and straddled him. He shifted to sit up against the headboard, he brought his hands to rest on your ass.

You kiss him slowly, tongue teasing his. Arms wrapping around his neck. One thing about your boyfriend was that he was vocal. He would whimper, moan, breathe heavily. It was like music to your ears.

He moans into your mouth, deepening the kiss. He was going to make it up to you, show you that you’re the only one he cares about here. He slides one hand under your hoodie, caressing your breast, thumb toying with your now pebbled nipple. You were always to aware of yourself in all situations, especially physical ones. You were worried that you might crush him if you put all of weight on him. To which he told you how ridiculous that claim was. So when it came to making out like this, in this position, you hovered over him, making the space between your crotches so noticeable. Jungkook pushes you down with the hand that now moved to your waist. You feel his hardness under you. You shiver at the feeling. Pulling away, you take a look at him. Wow. This gorgeous man was really yours. He looks at you, his lids half open, lips shining with saliva. He leans into pepper kisses all over your neck. Hands pulling up the edge of your hoodie, he puts his head under it to kiss your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth. The sounds in the room were borderline pornographic. You moan, pulling at his hair, causing him to nibble. Fuck, you were so soaked right now. You could feel your shorts become damp with arousal.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, kissing your chest, voice muffled by your shirt.

You grind down on his hardened length. He pulls his head out from under your hoodie, hand going straight for your centre. He groans as he feels the soaked material.

“Please.” He begs. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to breathe if he didn’t get inside you immediately.

---

Just as you were about to speak, a sharp knock echoed against the door.

“Hey, guys, the campfire’s ready. We’re grilling some meat too!” A deep voice rang out from the other side. You recognized it instantly—it was Taehyung, the same voice that had cut through the tension at the rest stop earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t stop touching you, starting to kiss your neck once more.

“W-we’ll b-be out in a minute.” You basically moan out. 

Your boyfriend puts his lips to your ear..His shaky breathes, makes goosebumps appear on your sweaty skin.

“Now he knows what you sound like when you’re about to get fucked good. He might try and take you away from me.” He nips at your earlobe.

Taehyung knocks again.

“Jungkook, bro. I was hoping that we could talk before dinner. You know, clear the air.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes. This was a slippery slope, was he really that hungry for you or was he trying to avoid the situation at hand. With Taehyung and… Jisoo.

“We should go down.” You whisper, kissing his cheek.

He whines, not wanting to let go of you.

“How can I with this?” He gestures to his eye-catching erection.

You get off him and off the bed.

“Think of Jisoo and Taehyung.” You quip, heading to the bathroom to change your ruined shorts.

Jungkook’s mouth drops open and the blood starts to return to his head. He runs his hands through his hair and gets off the bed and opens the door to Taehyung.

He yells that he was going down, to which you yelled out an ‘okay’ from behind the bathroom door.

---

Jungkook tried to act casual, his footsteps light as he walked down the hallway, avoiding Taehyung's gaze.  

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. 

"Dude." Taehyung stopped abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence. Jungkook froze, not wanting to face this conversation, but knowing he had no choice. 

Taehyung turned to him, a mix of frustration and apology in his eyes. “You mean, about how you're dating my ex-girlfriend? Or how you brought her to a trip where you knew my current girlfriend would be? Or maybe how I thought you were my friend?" Taehyung let out a heavy sigh, his face a picture of regret. 

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. The words hit harder than he expected, and the guilt started to creep in. But Taehyung wasn’t done.  

"I’m such an asshole," Taehyung muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I should’ve told you sooner. I shouldn’t have brought her. But Sohyun cheated on me... I was lonely, and Jisoo reached out, and... it just kinda happened. I’m really sorry, man.”

Jungkook paused, the weight of his friend’s vulnerability sinking in. He hadn’t realized just how hurt Taehyung had been until now. He could feel the tension loosening between them, a quiet understanding forming. 

“I get it,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice more sincere than before. Seeing Jisoo again had stirred up some unwanted feelings in him, but the one thing he was sure of was that he had you now—and that was enough to move past the past. He didn’t want to lose his friend over something like this. "Just... as long as you're happy, man. That’s all that matters.”

He pulled Taehyung into a brief hug, the tension dissipating like a long-awaited breath. 

You stepped out of the room just in time to catch the two friends in a rare moment of understanding. The tension between them had eased, and for the first time in a while, you saw them act like the friends they once were. 

The campfire crackled in the distance, the laughter and warmth drawing you in. You saw Jimin and Cleo sitting close by, Cleo perched comfortably in his lap as she flipped the sizzling pieces of meat on the grill. Jisoo was absorbed in taking pictures of the moon, her camera clicking away. You smiled softly, imagining you’d be doing the same thing soon. 

Suddenly, Taehyung appeared by her side, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. The sight of them felt unexpectedly sweet, and for a moment, you forgot about the tension with Jisoo. 

You made your way over to Jimin and Jungkook, who was already settling in beside you. Without missing a beat, Jungkook grabbed a bottle of Soju, spinning it expertly in his hands before pouring six shots of the clear liquid. 

Everyone gathered around the table, and with a shared look, you all raised your glasses. The burn of Soju slid down your throat, smoother than expected but still with that familiar heat. You winced slightly but grinned as you set the glass down.  

The table was littered with empty bottles, the air buzzing with the energy of the group. The men—Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin—decided to put on a hilarious impromptu performance of Beyoncé’s *Halo*, using empty bottles as microphones. You couldn't help but laugh at their antics, your stomach tight with the joy of the moment.  

Cleo clung to you, her voice low and soft as she hummed along, her presence soothing. She’d been so kind to you all evening, stepping in whenever Jisoo tried to poke at your insecurities. And Jisoo *did* try a lot—her words were sharp, but Cleo's attention was always just a little bit more piercing. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for her friendship. 

Jungkook, ever the protective boyfriend, kept you under his arm all night. He’d feed you whenever you seemed to pause, leaning in to whisper that you needed fuel for later. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear, and you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. The others noticed, too, and you instinctively buried your face into his shoulder, embarrassed and strangely comforted by his possessiveness. 

Jisoo, meanwhile, had tried her best to make Jungkook jealous, but it hadn’t worked. She’d kissed Taehyung passionately in front of everyone, all the while peeking at Jungkook to see if he was watching. But he wasn’t. 

The evening carried on in high spirits. But just as you thought things couldn’t get any better, a loud splash interrupted the laughter. You walked away from the table, drawn by the noise. As you rounded the corner, you saw a pile of discarded clothes near the lake. The group had jumped in, all of them splashing around in the cool water. 

Jungkook emerged from the lake, dripping wet and looking impossibly attractive. His hair clung to his forehead, and his broad shoulders glistened in the firelight. You couldn’t help but smile, but at the same time, a voice in your head hesitated. 

You’d been working hard on your fitness, especially since you’d met Jungkook, but compared to the others—Cleo, with her confidence, and Jisoo, who exuded a certain effortless beauty—you felt self-conscious. You weren’t ready to strip down and join them in the water. Not yet. 

Jungkook’s voice broke through your thoughts as he called your name, waving excitedly before Jimin jumped onto his back, both of them tumbling into the water. 

You laughed, shaking off your insecurities, and moved to sit on a nearby sunbed. The sight of the group—so carefree, so full of life—felt freeing, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the evening without overthinking. 

It didn’t take long before the group emerged from the lake, their laughter ringing out as they ran back to their clothes. Jisoo, spotting something, let out a loud gasp.

“Kooky! We’re matching!” she pointed out, her eyes wide in mock surprise as she realized both she and Jungkook were wearing matching Calvin Klein underwear.

Jungkook shot her a quick look, rolling his eyes at her antics. Without missing a beat, he sprinted toward you, dripping wet, and you instinctively tried to push him away, not wanting to get soaked. 

"Not for long," he said with a mischievous grin, pulling you closer. “These are coming off when we get upstairs.”

You giggled, your heart racing as you looked him over. The sight of him—wet, muscular, and teasing you—was almost too much. He really was a dream, too good to be true.

Jisoo glanced over her shoulder, ensuring that you were well out of view, before she lowered her voice and turned her attention fully to Jungkook. Her usually calm demeanor shifted, and there was a hint of seriousness in her eyes.

“Is this some sort of charity thing? Or do you feel bad for her? Dating a client, really Kook? Or wait… I think I know. It’s a tactic, you’re trying to keep a client by fucking her? Trying to do one of those ‘before and after’ pics right?  How do you even do it? Even with your eyes closed-“

Jungkook stops her venomous words.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jungkook’s voice was low, each word dripping with contempt. “Stop trying to worm your way back into my life. And leave my girlfriend the hell out of this. You’ve done enough damage already.”

He took a step forward, fists clenched at his sides, the anger in his chest almost too much to contain. “I should’ve walked away the second I saw you. But no, I brought you here because I wanted her to see who I used to be. To understand the people who were in my life. Then I realized... I shouldn’t even have to explain myself. You’re not part of that anymore.”

Jisoo opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, his voice harder this time, like shards of glass. “You always cared about how you looked, didn’t you? About how you made me feel when I was with you. You didn’t give a damn about me. About what I needed. But I’m not the same guy I was back then. I’ve moved on... And somehow, I ended up with someone who sees me for who I am, not some image, some damn trophy. Someone who actually cares about me.”

Jungkook’s chest heaved with the weight of it all, the anger mixing with the pain he hadn’t allowed himself to feel before. He jabbed a finger in her direction, voice breaking through the air like a warning. “I’m with someone who is beautiful inside and out. Someone you’ll never be. Not in a million years.”

Jisoo wasn’t going to back down, though. That damn stubbornness in her wouldn’t let her. She took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous, almost predatory.

“Don’t you miss us?” she asked softly, the words thick with nostalgia and something darker. She moved closer, her fingertips grazing the waistband of his boxers with a familiarity that sent a jolt through his body. “Don’t you ever think about how we used to be? About the way we felt when it was just us?”

Before Jungkook could shove her away, your voice sliced through the air, cutting off the moment entirely.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Jungkook watched you from across the room, his chest tightening as you distanced yourself from him—again. His eyes flickered between you and Jisoo, who stood too close, too perfect, like she always had. He hated the way it made you pull away, the way your shoulders seemed to fold in on themselves, as if you could disappear entirely.

Jisoo was everything you weren’t. Confident, poised, effortlessly beautiful. The kind of woman Jungkook used to be drawn to. And here you were, standing in the shadows, trying to shrink into yourself. He could see it in the way your eyes darted around the room, never meeting his, never fully present. You didn’t think you belonged here. Didn’t think you belonged in his life.

He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand how you looked at yourself like that.

Jisoo’s voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and taunting, and the pain in your eyes deepened. He knew exactly what was happening—Jisoo’s presence was triggering the worst of your insecurities, dredging up every fear you ever had. That voice in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough, that he deserved someone better. That you didn’t fit.

Jungkook’s heart pounded, his chest a heavy weight as he watched you take a step back, retreating even further into yourself. He hated seeing you like this. He couldn’t let you keep thinking you weren’t enough, not when he was standing right here, trying to make you understand how wrong you were.

“Hey.” He moved toward you quickly, his voice soft but urgent. His fingers found your arm, pulling you gently but firmly back toward him. You flinched, like you were afraid he might let go at any moment.

He didn’t. He wasn’t going to.

“You know she’s just trying to get to me, right?” he said, his voice low, filled with a quiet frustration that he could never fully express. He could feel your eyes on him now, but you weren’t really seeing him. You weren’t with him. “She doesn’t have any power over me anymore. I’m with you. Not her. And I’m not going anywhere. You’re everything to me.”

Your gaze flickered to his, but there was still so much doubt in your eyes, so much uncertainty. You were still hearing Jisoo’s voice in your head, still thinking that somehow you didn’t belong here.

“You’re too good for me,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile. The words cut through him in a way he wasn’t prepared for. “I’m not... I’m not like her. I’m not—”

Your words trailed off, and Jungkook could see the weight behind them. He could hear everything you couldn’t say—the fears, the worries, the thoughts that told you you didn’t deserve him. That you couldn’t ever measure up to Jisoo, or to the women he could have.

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard this, but each time it felt like a punch to the gut. He hated it. Hated that you couldn’t see yourself the way he saw you.

He stepped closer, cupping your face gently with both hands, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His heart was racing, but he pushed through it, fighting back the flood of emotions that threatened to choke him.

“You’re not just someone,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, every word deliberate, every word soaked with the weight of everything he felt for you. “You’re my someone. And I don’t give a damn about anyone else. I never did.”

You didn’t look away, but your expression was still clouded with doubt, like you didn’t believe him. The truth was right there, staring you in the face, but you couldn’t take it in, couldn’t let yourself believe it.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said quietly, the words breaking in your throat. “You’re... you’re Jungkook. You could have anyone. Anyone but me.”

Jungkook felt his chest tighten, the ache in his heart growing as he heard the words that had haunted you for so long. How could you still think this way? He wanted to scream, to shake you, to make you see just how wrong you were. But instead, he leaned in closer, his thumb gently brushing away the tear that had fallen from your eye.

“You’re not just anyone,” he said, the words steady, unwavering, even as his hands trembled slightly. “You’re the one I want. You’re everything I need.”

The way you looked at him, still unsure, still struggling to accept his words—it broke him. He wasn’t sure what else to say, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you go on thinking you weren’t enough. You were more than enough. You were everything he needed.

Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tightly in the warmth of his embrace. He buried his face in your hair, his chest rising and falling in time with your breaths.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and full of sincerity. “Always. You’re safe with me.”

You let out a shaky breath and clung to him like you were finally letting yourself believe it, like you were finally allowing yourself to be loved. The tension in your body eased, just slightly, and Jungkook held you even tighter, his heart beating in rhythm with yours.

He didn’t care about Jisoo. He didn’t care about anyone but you. And if he had to spend the rest of his life showing you just how much you mattered, he would.

You needed space. You mutter a quiet reply when jungkook asks you if you were okay. You head up to the bedroom, locking yourself in. Jungkook was feeling a mix of emotions.

Jungkook stood there for what felt like an eternity, his forehead still pressed to the cool surface of the bedroom door, the silence around him growing louder with each passing second. He wanted to say something—anything—to bridge the distance between you, to take away the hurt he could hear in your silence. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

The sound of footsteps broke his thoughts, and he instinctively straightened up, wiping his hands over his face in frustration. He knew who it was before he even turned around.

Jimin.

His best friend had a way of knowing exactly when things weren’t right. Maybe it was because he’d seen Jungkook go through the motions more times than he cared to count. They’d been through a lot together—highs, lows, heartbreaks—and Jimin had always been there to help Jungkook find his footing again. This time, however, felt different. Jimin had to know something was off, and he wasn’t the type to stay silent when he could see someone struggling.

"She’s still in there, huh?" Jimin’s voice was gentle, but Jungkook could hear the knowing tone. He didn’t have to answer—Jimin could read him like a book.

Jungkook let out a long, tired breath, his voice low. “Yeah. I just... I don’t know what to do, man. I feel like I fucked up. She’s just so... I don’t even know what she’s thinking right now.”

Jimin stepped closer, leaning against the kitchen counter as he folded his arms. He studied Jungkook for a moment, his eyes soft but thoughtful. “I think you’re both overthinking this,” he said finally, the words calm but with the weight of experience behind them.

Jungkook looked up at him, the frustration still clear in his eyes. “Overthinking it? She’s in there, and I’m out here, stuck trying to figure out how to make things right, and all you’ve got is ‘overthinking’?”

Jimin smirked, but it wasn’t the teasing smile he usually wore. It was something softer, more understanding. He was being serious.

"Jungkook, calm down." Jimin’s voice was steady, but there was a certain compassion in his tone that Jungkook could feel even through his own agitation. “Look, I know you want to fix things right now. I know you hate that she’s upset. But you need to remember something."

Jungkook shifted, his gaze drifting back to the bedroom door as if he could somehow see through it to you on the other side. He didn’t know what was more difficult—the waiting or the feeling that he wasn’t sure how to make it all better.

Jimin continued, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s not always about fixing everything in the moment. Sometimes, she needs time to process what happened. What you need to do is give her that space—because you pushing and pushing won’t change anything.”

Jungkook shook his head, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t want her to think I’m just leaving her to deal with this alone. She’s my responsibility, Jimin. I want to fix it now, before it gets worse.”

Jimin raised a hand, cutting him off, and stepped forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “I get that. But here’s the thing. You’re both carrying something. She’s carrying her own set of fears and insecurities—things you might not even fully understand. And you—you’re carrying your own fear that you’ll lose her. The pressure to make everything right is weighing on both of you. But the only way you’re going to get through this is if you’re patient. With her, and with yourself."

Jungkook looked at him, feeling a mixture of gratitude and frustration. "It’s just... Jisoo. She keeps getting in the way. I can’t stand seeing her upset when she thinks I’m just some kind of rebound, that I’m only here because I don’t care enough to be with someone like her.”

Jimin’s expression softened. “I know that’s hard to watch. But let’s be real. Jisoo doesn’t define your relationship with her. You know that better than anyone. If she’s in your past, then she’s in your past. What you and she have—what you and your girl have—that’s different. Don’t let anyone, even someone as complicated as Jisoo, mess with what you have now.”

Jungkook let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I want her to believe me, man. I want her to see that she’s not some... replacement. That she’s everything to me.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’m just not sure how to make her feel like she’s enough.”

Jimin nodded thoughtfully, his gaze steady on his friend. “The fact that you’re worried about it—that shows you care. You’re already doing the hardest part, Jungkook. You’ve been loving her the best way you know how, and that’s more than what most people do. But she has to believe it in her own time, on her own terms. You can’t force that. What you can do is be there. Be the kind of man she can trust to stand by her side, no matter what. Show her with your actions.”

Jungkook took in the words, letting them sink in. He’d always been quick to act, to fix things, to find a solution. But Jimin was right. This wasn’t something that could be solved with one grand gesture. It was a matter of trust—and sometimes trust took time to build.

“Yeah...” Jungkook muttered, looking down at the floor. “I just wish I could make her feel like she’s worth it. I hate seeing her think she’s not.”

Jimin clapped him on the back, the gesture light but reassuring. “She will. You just have to be patient. And don’t get so caught up in trying to fix everything all at once. You’re not perfect, and neither is she. But that’s why you guys work. Because, at the end of the day, you’ve got each other. And that’s enough.”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe this wasn’t something that could be fixed tonight. Maybe it wasn’t even something that could be fixed with words. But he could give her space. He could give her time.

And when she was ready, he’d be there.

“I’m gonna go give her some time,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice softer now, more certain. “But I’m not giving up on her. On us.”

Jimin grinned, his usual playful smirk returning. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go. Let her know you’re there for her, but don’t push. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

With one last reassuring clap on the back, Jimin turned and walked back toward the living room, leaving Jungkook to face the reality of what was to come. But this time, Jungkook felt something he hadn’t felt in a while: hope.

The sounds of laughter and quiet conversation had gradually faded as the night wore on. One by one, the group had trickled off to their rooms, leaving Jungkook alone in the living room. The weight of the night pressed down on him like a heavy fog, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, something undone.

Jisoo’s sudden appearance had wrecked the calm he’d tried to create between you and him. And now, with everyone else gone, he was left with nothing but the soft hum of the house and his own swirling thoughts. The feeling of helplessness—of wanting to fix things, but not knowing how—gnawed at him.

He sat down on the couch, his muscles sore from the tension that had been building all night. He tugged his t-shirt over his head, letting the fabric fall into his lap as he leaned back into the cushions. The cool air of the house brushed over his skin, but it did nothing to cool the heat rising in his chest. The way you had retreated into yourself earlier, the walls you’d put up—he hated it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he thought. Tonight was supposed to be about you. About letting you meet the people who meant the most to him, letting you know just how serious he was.

But somehow, it had all gone sideways. And now, he was left here, alone, with nothing but his own self-doubt to keep him company.

Jungkook stayed up for hours, his mind turning over the events of the evening—how Jisoo’s presence had made you pull away, how he hadn’t been able to say what he needed to say. The words were there, right on the tip of his tongue, but they felt useless now, like they wouldn’t be enough to make you see that you were everything to him.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up with him, and his body gave in to sleep despite the whirlwind of thoughts that kept him wide awake.

The sound of footsteps broke the stillness in the room, pulling Jungkook from a restless sleep. His eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry for a moment. He blinked, disoriented, and then he saw you sitting on the edge of the couch, your legs tucked under you, watching him with a quiet intensity. The faint glow of the nightlight illuminated your face, and despite the heaviness in the air, there was something about you that felt... softer.

Jungkook's heart thudded in his chest as he rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. His throat felt dry, and the words he had been dying to say all night were still heavy on his tongue. But now that you were here—so close, and yet so far—it felt like he was back to square one. Vulnerable, unsure.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice carrying a gentleness he hadn’t expected. Your eyes were slightly red, but there was no anger in them—just that quiet sadness that had settled over you earlier.

Jungkook sat up slowly, clearing his throat, unsure of what to say. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, or if you'd even want to hear what he had to say. He was terrified that, in trying to fix things, he might only make it worse.

"Hey," he replied hoarsely, the words coming out shakier than he wanted. His voice still carried the weight of everything he'd been holding back, and for a second, he wished he could just take all of it and say it at once, get it out. But that was never easy for him.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself, but his thoughts were a mess. "I... I don’t know where to start," he muttered. "I’m sorry for earlier. I never meant to make you feel that way." His voice wavered, and he looked down at his hands for a moment, afraid to meet your eyes. "I should’ve... done better. I should've been there for you in a way that actually made you feel like you belong, not like you were just... some outsider."

You shifted on the couch, your hands curling into your lap. You looked away briefly, as if gathering your own thoughts, before turning back to him with a quiet, but steady gaze.

"I just... I don’t know how to be what you need sometimes," you admitted softly, your voice shaking a little as you spoke. "I feel like I’m too much, or just not enough. Like, when I see someone like Jisoo... I think, how could someone like you really want someone like me?" Your words cracked with vulnerability, and it made Jungkook’s chest tighten painfully.

The truth of your insecurities hit him like a physical blow. He wanted to say something—anything—to make it better. To erase the doubt in your voice. But the words stuck in his throat. He was scared. Scared of saying the wrong thing, scared that maybe he wasn’t enough for you either, and that you might never truly believe how much you meant to him.

He swallowed hard and reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed his fingers along your arm, trying to comfort you, even as he struggled with his own fears.

“No,” Jungkook whispered, shaking his head as if to dismiss the thought completely. “That’s... that’s not it at all. You’re everything to me.” His voice faltered, and his heart raced in his chest. He hesitated for a moment, the words almost too heavy to say, but they were there—just waiting to be spoken. “I... I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t care about Jisoo. She’s my past. You’re... you’re my present. You’re who I want, who I’ve always wanted.”

He looked down at his lap, unsure of how you were processing what he was saying. The fear of rejection still lingered in the pit of his stomach. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if, in trying to be honest, he only pushed you further away?

You were quiet for a long moment, and Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to look at you. His heart pounded as the seconds stretched into what felt like forever.

But then, you spoke.

"I just don’t get it. I don’t know why you’d want someone like me, when you could have someone like—" You paused, your voice catching. "Someone like her."

Jungkook’s pulse quickened. He didn’t want you to keep questioning it, to keep doubting what they had. He needed you to see the truth.

He reached for you, his hands gently cupping your face, bringing your eyes back to his. This time, there was no hesitation. He had to say it, even if his voice was thick with fear. “You don’t get it because you don’t see how incredible you are. How beautiful, and kind, and strong you are. You’re not too much—you’re more than enough. You’re everything to me. I’m not with you out of convenience or because I don’t have better options. I’m with you because I love you.”

His heart raced as he let the words linger between you, almost as if the weight of them was too much to carry. He held his breath, terrified of what you might say next. He waited, his hands trembling, as the silence stretched out.

You blinked, staring at him as if processing his words, the emotions swirling in your eyes. He couldn’t read your face, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

But then you whispered, your voice barely audible, “I love you too.”

Jungkook’s chest surged with relief, a weight lifting from him as he heard those words, but it was still soft, fragile. There was more to say, more to understand, but right now, in this moment, it was enough.

And for the first time in a long time, Jungkook felt like he wasn’t just waiting for the storm to pass—he was finally standing on solid ground. With you.

Finally! Hope you guys like it. If you don't, please keep it to yourself, no mean comments please :)

[vinylfoxbooks]

November 11 - Adore | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1,055

“How did you know that you loved Remus?” Regulus hums, poking at his food. A part of him hates this, hates that they were ever put through a situation where they’re awkward just sitting on a couch together eating. He hates that they have to put in effort to bridge the gap and have a peaceful relationship. But hating it doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

Sirius hums, looking up at him from where he was intently watching his own food, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean you- you risked everything for Remus. You risked our parents for him, how did you know that was something you… how did you know that the sacrifice was worth it?”

It’s a while before Sirius pulls together a response, long enough that Regulus almost regrets asking, before he sharply inhales and puts his plate down on the coffee table. He moves so he’s sitting cross-legged facing Regulus, “As long as I’ve known him, even before we were dating, I knew there was something special about him. I didn’t… I didn’t know what it was at that point, and it took me a long time to learn that I could like boys, which he and James were the ones to teach me that, but there was something that was… pulling me to him. I always wanted to sit next to him, I always wanted to know his opinions on something that I liked, and I always wanted his approval.” 

He takes a couple seconds to take a sip of water, giving Regulus the time to put his own dishes on the coffee table, before he clears his throat again, “Then we started dating and… I don’t know, I don’t think I loved him when we first got together but then… I just spent time with him, we were going on dates, we were more open with each other and-” Sirius smiles softly, looking down at his lap, “I can’t explain how it feels, loving him. It’s… warm, and comforting, and a little scary because I don’t know how to let people love me… It starts in my chest and just… warms my body. Also it… it wasn’t like a dawning realisation, but more one of those things where he said something and I thought, ‘Merlin, I love him’ and that was that.” They’re both silent for a moment, and Regulus takes the time to watch over his brother’s expression and body language, he acts like he’s comfortable, and he has a sweet smile on his face that Regulus only saw for the first time when he saw his brother with Remus. 

And then he takes a second to look over at the previous night. James had come over to the flat to spend some time with Remus and Sirius, and they had managed to coerce him out of his room, which Sirius was greatly confused at. Then, at the end of the night, Remus and Sirius ‘tucked in’ for the night early, leaving James and Regulus alone. While not common, this did happen sometimes, and James was quick to splay themself out over the couch that they now had to themself and grab the remote from the coffee table to put on a random show that they’ve both watched before. 

And James had asked him a question, something stupid, like they usually do to get him more comfortable around them, get him talking. And then they’d laugh at something that they said and warmth would bloom in Regulus’ chest. And the two would talk and they’d joke and James would sometimes make comments on the show after lapsing into silence, usually a stupid comment that would get Regulus to insult them. And it was comfortable, and it was warm. 

Regulus shakes his head to distract himself from his thoughts, “And how did you know that leaving mum and dad for him would be… worth it?” This is dangerous territory, Regulus knows this. While they’re both getting better with conversations like this, a lot of the time they end up screaming at each other when they get on the topic of Sirius leaving.

Sirius seems to know this too, because he takes a second to think of his words before speaking, “It wasn’t just Remus. You and I both know that I could’ve run to his, but I went to the Potter’s. Because Effie and Monty and James, their house, made me feel that same comfortable, but scary, warmth. That was love, watching Effie and Monty dance in the kitchen was love. And I figured that… if I felt the same thing with Remus as I did watching Effie and Monty then, that meant Remus and I could be Effie and Monty, right?”

He shakes his head, “I was scared, I was so scared, but I just held that warmth close to my chest. I didn’t really know if it would be worth it, if Remus and I would stay together, but I believed that it could be.” 

Regulus nods after a couple seconds, “I think I know what you’re talking about.” 

“Do you?” Sirius looks shocked for a moment, “For someone in particular or?” 

“Maybe,” the younger says after a second or two, “It’s… it’s for James, maybe?” He furrows his brows, “But that could also be because I know what you’re talking about at the Potters’ house.” 

“James?” Sirius says after a beat of silence, “How long?”

“I don’t know…” he shakes his head, “James and I hang out when you and Remus leave and they…”

“They adore you.” Sirius smiles softly, reaching out and offering a hand, but not touching Regulus. He takes his brother’s hand. The older shakes his head, “I don’t know how they’d feel about me telling you that and I don’t know if it’s more than just James being really affectionate towards everyone but… I know that you’re special to them.” And his words make Regulus’ chest fill with a comforting warmth… he smiles softly and Sirius seems to know what that means, “Take your time with it.” And Regulus just nods, thinking back on all the nights that the two of them were left alone. On the way that Regulus had a weird obsession with James since they properly met. 

“Thank you, Siri.” 

At that, Sirius pulls Regulus into a hug, “Anytime, Reg.”

[ppssession]

Top-class insurance

Ian is an overweight 30-year-old man who lives a normal life with hard work and no free time.

One day while working hard as usual, Ian received an email about health insurance. At first, Ian ignored the email until he read through it and became interested.

The content of the email after his death Ian will receive a new body immediately. When he receives a new life, he must share the income after taking over the body, 45% of the income from the new body. Although Ian is interested in the offer, he thinks it is a joke from his colleagues.

Ian then accepts the insurance offer and the mysterious email. After accepting, he is prompted to send a photo of the person Ian wants to possess. Ian thinks for a moment and selects a photo of Joe, a millionaire he knows through social media.

It wouldn't hurt a rich person if their income dropped by 45% lol, Ian thought to himself. He sent an email back. The message said the insurance was complete. After a couple of weeks, Ian forgot about it because he had been working very hard recently.

One evening, Ian was working overtime, even though he had been working hard for weeks, he still had to do it, which made Ian feel very bad, his body gradually showed signs of weakness while he was in front of the computer, the images gradually became dark and he finally lost consciousness.

Ian's consciousness slowly returned, but strangely, he felt that he could breathe easier, his body felt light. When he opened his eyes, he was shocked when he saw a beautiful hand instead of his own fat hand. He was still holding an expensive liquor that even though he almost earned his entire salary, it was difficult to buy. He slowly came to his senses and rubbed all over his face to examine it. Oh my god, my face is so amazing.

Suddenly, he slowly remembered the mysterious insurance he had made. Yes, I remember. I must be in the body of that rich man, Joe. Ian remembered the insurance he had made, but he slowly smiled triumphantly. “Indeed, being in this body means I have a second chance to have fun without that fat body"

Oh, that's right. I need to rest for a while after working so hard. Ian, who was in Joe's body, took a deep sip of the liquor in his hand. "That's right. This is what expensive things should taste like." He slowly reached out and rubbed his target. Not long after, a large tent bulged out between his legs. He used the zipper to unzip it, freeing his long, thick cock. “Wow, this is great. I think I finally hit my jackpot. It’s as big as a bottle of booze,” Ian hungrily ran his hand up and down his new cock. “Ahh,” Ian’s deep, charming moan from his throat made him feel even more excited for a moment, as Ian’s orgasm brought him to his climax. Waves of pleasure shot out of his penis and spread throughout his body. Ian breathed heavily as waves of pleasure crashed through him, before he took a sip of his liquor. Suddenly, a notification sounded on his phone. He looked at the notification, “Please pay the security deposit within 24 hours (21:35 hours left) or we will refund your money.” After reading it, Ian smiled. Yes, I will pay the security deposit, but after this, Joe will play with this big cock a few more times. Haha.

Haha tell me if you had a chance to get insurance like in the story, who would you use as your second life?

[ninyard]

I’m really really curious on how riko saw Kevin from his childhood to “adulthood” and how did he switch to be a kinda normal kid from this, was it when he saw nathan killing someone in front of him that created that sick sort of fascination that he have toward this thing or was it another thing ?

This is such a good ask I love thinking about this!! I always wonder at what point in their relationship did their dynamic change from siblings/friends to competitors/abuser and abused. And I think if we take that Kevin’s mom died when he was that little bit older, it definitely changes how their relationship must’ve been in the beginning.

It makes me wonder how Kayleigh and Tetsuji socialised Kevin and Riko together when they were really young. Did they see each other often? Did they know each other well before Kayleigh died, and Kevin moved in?

Let’s take it that they were as close as siblings, and they might as well have been living together with the amount of time Kevin spent with him in training, or time spent together when Kayleigh went abroad for work and couldn’t take him with her. I think the shift in their relationship wouldn’t have happened until after she died, though, until Riko got the idea in his head that Kevin was his. Not Kayleigh’s, not Tetsuji’s, his.

Riko, more likely than not, probably would’ve displayed signs of being unstable in his childhood. Small things that could’ve been brushed off as boys being boys and kids being kids; he would trip Kevin up and pretend it was an accident, eyes almost dazzling at the blood that dotted his grazed knees. Riko would always take the rough play-fighting too far. He would poke his bruises harder than he should, he would embarrass Kevin in front of other people and make it look like it wasn’t intentional.

I just think of some sort of scenario where Riko takes it that step too far; ten, eleven, maybe, and they’re wrestling, rough housing like they do sometimes. Riko decides he wants to try something, he wants to see how it feels - when Kevin has his back turned to him, he locks an arm around his throat and locks him in an inescapable grip. Kevin’s anxious laugh as he struggles out of the chokehold turns into exasperated pleas to let go, this isn’t funny, I’m going to pass out. He lets him fall in a deoxygenated heap just before he passes out, and it’s a minute until he catches his breath again.

“What is wrong with you?” Kevin pushes Riko back when he takes a step towards him. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” he laughs, a lie, gaslighting, downplaying, whatever you want to call it. “I didn’t actually hurt you. You’re being dramatic.”

There’s other things after that, small ways he got pleasure out of hurting Kevin; at the time he didn’t know that that was why he was doing it. Maybe he just thought it was funny. Maybe he thought it was a joke. Bending his fingers too far backwards, almost dislocating his shoulder in an arm wrestle, hitting his racquet where he knows it hurts, where he knows Kevin is unprotected.

I don’t think that Nathan’s victim was the first body either of them had seen. Where or who or what they would’ve seen before that, I don’t know, but I don’t know. Maybe that body they saw with Nathaniel was the moment where Kevin realised something was seriously wrong with Riko; how he didn’t look away, or grimace, how he smiled the whole time. How his pupils widened as he watched a man being cut into pieces.

Maybe that was when he took it to the next level, when he truly stopped being afraid of Kevin bleeding at his hands. He knew how much he liked it, he’d seen it right in front of him, but maybe that’s the catalyst for when he stops holding himself back. Permission, almost. Look at what man can do. Look at what you’re capable of.

[wildstreetrat]

May I request Graves X Reader? I love reading Graves fics

oh lord me too, he doesn't get enough love

Graves Headcannons

One thing to say: Sassy man apocalypse

This man is so cocky and so sassy it isn’t even funny.

At when you first met and got together hes so cocky and kind of arrogant, he puts on a mask to hide how he truly feels because he is terrified of being vulnerable. He definitely feels like he’s not a man if he doesn’t act ‘masculine’. Although that mask does crack after a particularly hard mission

The click of the front door and near silent steps alerted you that your boyfriend was finally home. It had been a couple months since you last saw him and you were giddy to greet him at the door. You halted however, when he didn’t greet you with his usual ferver and snarkiness and instead just looked past you with sunken eyes. He lazily took off his boots and let you lead him to the dining room. After a hearty home-cooked meal and hot shower, you were sure he would snap out of it and go back to his usual snarky self. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice him open the bathroom door. All clean, he trudged over to you and gently laid his head on your lap. You tried to offer to talk about what was on his mind but he always shut that down, so you opted to just sit in silence and play with his damp hair, scratching his scalp and softly holding him. Muffled cries broke the silence, he had finally let down a wall (one of many but we’ll talk about that later) around you. 

After that instance he still held a lot of walls but showing vulnerability was a lot more common, he confided in you about his feelings and thoughts, lied less to you about his worries and his job

Quite the joker, he strikes me as a guy to play pranks or tell you shitty jokes just to hear you groan or chuckle a little. It fills him with pride when he can get a reaction out of you and even more so when you tell one right back. This carries into to other things like arguments, flirting or even just interacting. He will purposefully get on your nerves just to get you to fight back, finds it like a fun game and will don a shit-eating grin during the whole ordeal, which only eggs you on further. (Although if he does seriously piss you off and you tell him that he will apologize and get you flowers)

Does invite his friends (ahem the shadows ahem) over to hang out, will tell you *most* of the time

You decided that it would be nice to get some grocery shopping done for both you and your boyfriend, and after a couple hours you arrived at the door, you knew Philip would be home as he said he was going to keep himself busy that day with projects or just lounging about, so imagine your surprise when you go to get your keys to unlock the door and a random man opens it for you and a couple others offer to help you put away your groceries while your boyfriend greets you from the couch.

He loves touching you, I think his personal favorites are: hugging you from the back (especially when you're busy doing something, and will just hold you there and bury his face in your neck for a good 5 minutes), holding hands, and CUDDLING big time. Adores every minute of it even if he acts like it annoys him(which he will) and that you asked for it (you didn’t) and you’re the only one who wants to cuddle (you’re not). It knocks him right out too, you'll be having a conversation and then one minute he's responding to you in soft snores.

Very handy around the house, knows how and will fix pretty much anything that needs to be fixed,  Disclaimer: do not call a repairman it will bruise his ego SO bad.

All in all I would rate him a 7/10, a bit annoying but a cutie patootie

[miharuki]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖎𝖇𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝕭𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘

Soshiro has always found you intriguing since the moment you took the test to join the Defense Force. Your combat skills were surprisingly low—lower than anyone else’s in the exam. Even so, you passed, just like he did. He tried to approach you, start a conversation, but you didn’t seem as talkative as the others. However, he noticed that with Captain Mina, you laughed, joked, and even made jokes. He wondered if you were in the Defense Force just because of your friendship with Mina. After all, you weren’t good at long-range combat, and your strength seemed weaker than most. Still, something about you was intriguing.

This mystery deepened during your first mission together. He saw, alone, you destroy a huge kaiju—a feat that normally required a platoon leader. The skill you demonstrated at that moment confused him. When he tried to talk about it, you remained closed off, keeping all your secrets to yourself. With each failed attempt at communication, Soshiro’s curiosity only grew, until he realized he had become attached to you.

When he was promoted to vice-captain, he thought this would bring him closer to you. He thought perhaps it was his position that made you not open up to him, but nothing changed. Your coldness and distance remained, until the arrival of the new soldiers, including Kafka Hibino. Suddenly, you started opening up, talking to Kafka in a way you never did with Soshiro. A strange feeling overwhelmed him. He didn’t like seeing you together. The more you grew closer to Kafka, the more he gave the new soldier tasks, trying to keep him busy. He didn’t like it at all.

Then came the revelation: Kafka was Kaiju No. 8. When he was taken, you seemed to lose your spark. Soshiro saw it, felt the sadness radiating from you, and it irritated him. Why care so much about Kafka? He was a kaiju. Even though he was human, he was a monster.

Over time, he noticed that despite the pain, you continued to train, to evolve. It was as if your combat skills, once weaker, were now on par with the soldiers. Maybe even reaching the level of a platoon leader, but the sadness from Kafka’s absence seemed to be something unchangeable. Soshiro tried to get closer, to be there for you, but you kept your distance.

When he found out the final result of Kafka’s fate, his death, Soshiro noticed the change in you. The distance and emptiness grew even more, while you stopped eating, taking care of yourself. The situation became so dire that Soshiro decided to seek answers from Captain Mina.

When Soshiro arrived at Mina’s office, she looked at him seriously and thoughtfully, as if weighing what she was about to reveal. He felt a shiver of nervousness. She began:

“Soshiro, there’s something I think you need to know.”

He furrowed his brow, a bit confused. Was she going to talk about something related to the previous mission, when he had saved you both from being swallowed by a kaiju? He hoped so.

“Lately, I’ve noticed you trying to get close to someone in particular… (Your Name),” she continued, carefully choosing her words. “And I thought I should tell you. The reason (Your Name) is so shaken is because their brother… has just been executed. That brother was Kafka Hibino. (Your Name) Hibino.”

Soshiro felt his heart race, his eyes widening in shock. “Kafka was… their brother?”

Mina nodded. “That’s right. That’s why I thought you should know. (Your Name) told me that, from the beginning, you’ve tried to get close, tried to be friendly, but maybe this is the reason for their distance.”

Soshiro took a moment to process everything, the revelation about Kafka being their sibling shedding new light on every interaction he had with you. The truth caught him by surprise, but at the same time, it intensified his desire to be there for you, now more than ever.

“Captain… if you don’t mind, where are they now?”

Mina replied firmly, but with a gentle look. “If you want to see them, they’re on the roof of the headquarters right now.”

Soshiro simply thanked her with a nod, leaving the room and heading straight to meet you. When he saw you, you were facing away, with a bowl of food beside you. He called your name:

“(Your Name)?”

You slowly turned around, your face weary, marked by tears. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Approaching slowly, Soshiro placed a hand on your head and murmured:

“I heard what happened… I’m so sorry about your brother. I can’t even imagine the pain you’re feeling.”

You looked away, and Soshiro stepped closer. “But know that I’m here,” he said, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

Without thinking much, you hugged him, and he returned the embrace, listening to your sobs. Soshiro, with his heart aching, whispered:

“You don’t have to go through this alone. Let me be here for you.”

But what he didn’t know was that you had already devised a plan for revenge, a way to repay every drop of suffering that had been caused to your brother. What you also didn’t know was that from that moment on, Soshiro wouldn’t let you escape. He would stay by your side, no matter what it took.

[shrimpwritings]

Arcane Season 2: Vi Character Analysis and Speculations

It’s been a while since I’ve done a character analysis, and what better way to write one after watching the first three episodes of the second season of Arcane? This is just my interpretation and analysis, so it might not be the same as other people’s, and that’s okay! There will be major spoilers ahead, though, so please read at your own risk!

We’re all anxious to see what’s to become of Vi in Act 2 of season 2, and rightfully so, considering how badly Caitlyn fucked up. Despite the pain we feel for Vi in that scene, we can still sympathize with Caitlyn as her grief is taking charge over her rational thinking, but at that moment, Vi looks as if her whole world has crumbled.

Despite the jokes people have made online posting pictures of Vi’s models from season 1 and season 2, namely during her pit fighter era, with texts all saying something along the lines of, “This is what a lesbian situationship does to someone.” In a way, they’re right, but it holds a deeper meaning than just that.

Vi grew up with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Vander always told her she would be held responsible for whatever happened to Mylo, Claggor, and Powder– or Jinx. The first, and probably only person that had told her that whatever happened to her sister wasn’t her burden to bear was Caitlyn, so her betrayal hits hard. Vi finally thinks she’s found someone that won’t hold her accountable for the atrocities her sister commits, someone she’s comfortable showing vulnerability to. 

Vi understands Powder died as soon as she was arrested, though it takes the entirety of season 1 to fully grasp that because, to her, time stopped. She was convinced she’d come back to that same little girl she abandoned against her will, but instead, she came back to an unstable person hellbent on chaos. Trying to live in a world that moved on was a difficult transition for her, only made easier by Caitlyn giving her a place to stay for a time, and running to her for comfort after her mother’s passing. She felt responsible for everything that happened, and it takes a soft moment between the two to make her truly understand that she doesn’t have to shoulder the burden of the casualties in the explosion.

Then the fight happens, and Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting Jinx and Isha. 

“I keep telling myself that you’re different, but you’re not. It’s her blood in your veins.” “Then why are you the one acting like her?!”

The butt of a gun to the gut– the exact same place where Sevika had stabbed her in season 1 to be exact– and a glare from Caitlyn are the last things Vi receives before being left completely alone. We can see the absolute devastation on her face as she’s left completely alone, in pain and hurting, as the one person who she felt saw her as more than Jinx’s big sister leave her. 

From what we know about Vi as a character, is that she knows that she, as a Zaunite, is frowned upon, and she will never be treated with respect. Caitlyn only solidifies this belief by how she lashes out at her for stopping her from killing Jinx and Isha in the crossfire.

So where does that leave Vi? In a place between Zaun and Piltover, unable to belong in either city as they’re torn apart by Jinx’s revolution and Ambessa’s declaration of martial law, working as a pit fighter to make ends meet and drowning herself in liquor. Caitlyn’s betrayal hurts more than anything Silco or Jinx could do to her because she truly, genuinely, loved her, and thought she did the same. Why wouldn’t she fall deeper into the pit she dug for herself, using black face paint and hair dye to forget about the person she was that foolishly fell for Caitlyn Kiramman?

With that said, I’m very excited and terrified of where Vi’s story is going to take us in Act 2. November 16th can’t come any sooner.