#i’ll remember one day stay tuned

[homelanderpilled]

my poor angel i was gonna say something really deep and philosophical about how tragic he is but his stupid eyes captivated me too much i forgot

[whoreforsexymen]

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.

Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

[gentaro-kinniecom]

New Beginnings

Characters: Zayne/fem!reader

C/w: 1.4k! (Read at your own risk, meant for +18) mentions of breeding, married life, somewhat graphic descriptions of sex. Zayne wants to be a father although he doesn't admit it..he just wants to get you knocked up.

A/n: Finished writing this instead of my english essay because... There's also a Rafayel fanfic in the making so stay tuned for more <33

“Zayne? It’s 1am, you still haven’t come back to bed..” I said, leaning against the door frame as he sighed, typing away on his computer while passing a hand across his hair, trying to calm himself down. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll be there”

“That’s what you said an hour ago..you’re tiring and exhausting yourself to the point of death at this point” Zayne sighed, closing his laptop and getting up from his desk chair, walking towards me with a soft grin trying to comfort me. 

“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, hugging my waist as we walked towards our shared bedroom. Ever since we got married, Zayne has gotten more work than usual piled up on his desk every time I go to visit him at work. It worries me that he’s overworking himself because of money, which hasn’t been an issue at all given he’s a doctor and works in a very respected hospital. But what other reason might it be? I laid in our shared bed, feeling myself drift away to sleep when suddenly, Zayne wrapped his arms around my waist. 

“Mhm, thank you” I replied, snuggling up to him while caressing his soft dark strands of hair that fell on his face, smiling. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite grasp as Zayne kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help but stay awake for a few minutes, looking at the city lights by the window and back at Zayne’s sleeping form beside me.

Woken up by the sound of something crashing from the kitchen, I got out of bed with a small yawn, walking down the corridor of our lovely home to see Zayne had a mess of pancake batter all over his “kiss the cook” apron while sighing in annoyance before turning towards me.

“There’s shards of glass on the floor..please, be careful” I nod, grabbing a broom from the closet room and coming back to see Zayne was picking up the broken pieces from the floor. I suddenly stepped in one while trying to hand him the broom which made him look at me with worry, I try not to cry as he can clearly see the tears pricking my eyes.

“I’m fine I swear..” Without a second thought, he quickly lifted me onto the kitchen counter, carefully yet skillfully removing the glass from my foot as Zayne chuckled.

“Having you like this, reminds me of our honeymoon. Remember when-” I stopped Zayne by placing a hand over his mouth, trying to not remember that day where he fucked me into oblivion in our hotel’s kitchen island, right before breakfeast too.

“Why must you always make me remember? It’s like you’re hinting at wanting kitchen sex right now..” A chuckle left his lips as Zayne’s body inched closer, his hands grabbing my waist gently, kissing my neck while whispering sweet words that had me falling into his desire.

“Because, shouldn’t being a husband imply taking care of his wife’s desires as their own? Is it too bad that I want to be greedy with you for a few moments?”His hands began to trail under my nightgown and towards my chest as he began to rub my nipples, making me whine while kissing him.

“Alright, fine. Just seeing you in this apron alone made me feel things, did you do it on purpose?” I asked half jokingly as Zayne kissed my shoulder before taking off my nightgown, leaving me naked on the counter while grinning ear to ear.

“Perhaps, although now I see what you’ve been meaning to hide all this time; you’re trying to rile me up, and it’s working” He then kissed me, taking his sweet time to stroke my clit, agonizingly slow, teasing me as I whined into his mouth. Zayne didn’t take this lightly and spread my legs apart in a second. 

“And to think this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t break the glass measuring vase today” I added, gazing over at Zayne who kneeled towards my pussy, blowing on it gently before sucking on it. I gasped as his tongue did wonders, had I really forgotten of that day, or was I too fucked out of my brains to remember? Possibly the latter. He suddenly grabbed my thighs, massaging them in a way that made my cunt drip with more arousal than before. Of course, I was impatient, so I grabbed Zayne’s hair, pulling him upwards as he got the message.

“Maybe it was fate or clumsiness on my behalf, at least we’re making something out of this.” He spoke, yet I was too focused on how quickly he was to take off his pants, making me wonder why the hell was he wearing work pants so early in the morning. Nonetheless, all my thoughts vanished out the window as soon as I saw his cock. It wasn’t less than average or more, slightly curved and girthy, the type that never wants to let go once he’s had a taste..that..is the man I married, and the man he will always be. The small but noticeable vein on the side made me drool as he stroked himself a few times before prodding at my entrance. 

“Please, don’t make me wait longer, my love” 

“I thought, you weren’t the type to beg for something, it seems there’s a first for everything after all” Pushing my hips to meet his cock, Zayne grabbed them harshly, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to put me in my place as he smiled. The moment he thrusted inside, I threw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure Zayne was giving me at the moment. My hand found Zayne’s shoulder as he continued to pound at my dripping pussy. He let out a sharp groan as he finally reached my g-spot, making me let out a breathy moan while speeding up.

“Is this what you- hah wanted all along? For me to breed you? Make you carry our child? Answer me.” Zayne’s voice dropped to that soft and warm yet firm tone I always loved. Without any doubt, I answered almost eagerly.

“Y-yes..! Oh fuck~!” I sobbed due to the stimulation he gave me, in a hazy rush, Zayne grabbed my thighs, thrusting sharply yet deeply, enough to make me crave more.

“You’d be such a good mom, look at you, all needy and willing for me. I can’t wait to expand our family with you” He said, panting afterwards as he unexpectedly came inside rather quickly than normal. Pulling his cock away from my puffy cunt almost regretting his decision not long before seeing his cum leak down with a faint smile on his face.

“Stay here, I’ll go grab a towel.'' I nod, smiling at his gentleness as he comes back to clean me up. Zayne’s lips met mine as a ‘thank you’ from my behalf for being so kind and sweet as always. We eventually got dressed once again as I looked at my husband through the mirror of our bedroom, walking downstairs as I stared at the kitchen momentarily.

“So..what are we going to do about breakfast?” I asked, causing him to laugh while he grabbed both the house and car keys as we exited the front door.

“I know of a brunch place that just opened up nearby, perhaps we could give it a try today”

Some weeks later, I started feeling sick and began vomiting sometimes during the morning. I had a feeling it was because I was pregnant, however, my husband wanted to run some tests for me in the clinic near the hospital he worked at, “just to be sure” his words not mine. At the end of the day, I returned home waiting for the results to come back as I heard the front door open. Zayne tried little to hide the smile on his face as he handed me the envelope from the clinic

“I don’t need to read the letter at this point with the way you’re smiling at me” I teased, opening it up to show that I was indeed 3 weeks pregnant with his child. Zayne hugged me briefly before kissing my lips ever so softly.

“I promise to be the best father for our child, thank you for allowing me to have the blessing to start a family the day we got married, I love you.” He spoke, tear-eyed as I hugged him back, crying happily onto his chest.

“I love you too..I’ll never regret marrying the man that treats me like a queen and makes sure I have everything I need.” 

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81. [REWRITE]

he may not be a london boy, but you love him all the same, and you’re about to learn the hard way that loving someone can be a wild ride.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part one.

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liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 61,816 others

yourusername me and london boy have made so many memories here together and i’ll cherish them forever ❤️. i love this sport and i love the people i've met in this sport. i'll always love it and them, but sometimes you have to take a step back and set your sights on new horizons. that said, neither of us will be competing in any events this year— endurance or otherwise. london boy will stay in richmond and continue to receive the best care possible from people who have grown to love him as much as i do, and in the meantime, i'll start looking to those other horizons.

view all 1,761 comments

user wishing you the best of luck!! we’ll miss seeing you and london boy, but we know this decision wasn’t made lightly and we hope whatever you do will make you just as happy as riding does!!

user london boy lives a more luxurious life than i could ever hope 

↳ user real like why am i jealous of a horse 😭😭

↳ user knowing how well these horses are treated? we should all be jealous

↳ user some of these horses have rain coats that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined… the day i learned that was not a fun day… 😔

user honestly only ever tuned in to watch you both

user the events won’t be the same without you!!!

user I’LL MISS YOU LONDON BOY

user take all the time you need to explore other options! you can love something and still get burnt out on it. sometimes taking that step away can be the decision that allows us to continue loving something instead of growing resentful towards it. do what you need to do to be happy! 🫶

↳ user this is such a good way to put it!!

↳ user THIS. i did competitive jumping for ten years and towards the end of that time i started seeing it more as a chore than the sport i used to be so passionate about. you absolutely CAN love something and still get burnt out on it. taking breaks is so important.

user i’m sure london boy will miss you but you do you girliepop! take a trip or go on an adventure!

user oh to be a girl riding her horse across the beach at sunrise 🥲

↳ user IKR?!? talk about dream life, she’s literally living out scenes that i’ve only ever seen in movies

↳ user it’s london boy’s world and we’re all just living in it

user wait does this mean no more horse content???

↳ user i mean she’s not getting rid of her horse or even outright retiring, she just won’t be riding competitively for 2023

user is she leaving the uk or smth?? bc she said other ppl will be looking after london boy?? i know nothing about horses guys i’m sorry

↳ user london boy will be staying at the stables as per her caption! he will be looked after by many trained professionals who will ensure he is properly fed, watered, exercised, and groomed each day! it’s actually very common for people to board their horses at a stable since horses often need large fields to graze and exercise in, and not a lot of people have big enough backyards or own property to be able to provide that themselves. whether she’s leaving the uk or not, we don’t know, but it definitely sounds like her training with london boy will be put on hold for the time being!

user miss girl we’ll always remember you and london boy as the greatest duo in endurance racing history

↳ user REAL REAL REAL

user does this have to do with her falling off a few months back??

↳ user it could, she did mention the encounter leaving her pretty shaken

↳ user yeah but the possibility of something like this happening is so high that a lot of riders have accepted it as an inevitable occurrence in their career

↳ user even still, that doesn’t change the fact that she could very well be traumatized or experiencing lingering side effects

↳ user guys!! speculation will do us no good!! if she wants to tell us, she will!!

user YOU KNOW I LOVE A LONDON BOY 🗣🗣🗣

logansargeant wanna trade one paddock for another?

There’s a sort of terrifying uncertainty that comes with breaking a long-standing routine.

It’s like a fucked-up sort of package deal— you stop following the methodized schedule you’ve meticulously upheld for years, and in exchange, you receive more time than you know what to do with and an overwhelming responsibility to fill it.

The only question is: with what?

The muscle memory lingers, and you suspect that it’ll take some time for your body to un-familiarize itself with a sleep schedule that you’ve religiously held on to for years, but there’s no demands to maintain any of it and that makes any sort of attempt at continuing to run through the motions feel entirely obsolete. You may instinctively wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but without the necessity of a horse relying on your punctuality to get him fed, watered, and turned out to the paddock, there’s nothing you can do beyond filling the morning with something until your internal clock catches the memo and decides to let you sleep in for once.

“You know, when I invited you to tag along with me,” Logan begins in lieu of a greeting when he opens the front door and sees you standing on the stoep of his apartment, clad in athletic wear and a pair of well-worn running shoes, “I was under the impression that we both understood that to mean the traveling to races part and not necessarily the pre-season training.”

“‘My dearest sister,’” you sarcastically quip back in a mockingly deep voice, feigning heartfelt sincerity and pressing your hand melodramatically to your chest. “‘How good it is to see you after so long! I would be absolutely delighted if you joined me on my morning run today.’”

Your twin brother shakes his head in exasperation, but through the facade of annoyance, you can recognize the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Honestly, Logie,” You pretend to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye and add in a sniffle for extra flair, “you're too sweet. What would I ever do without you?”

“We saw each other a week ago at brunch,” he grumbles, reluctantly taking a step back from the door and allowing you to pass over the threshold into the warmth of the apartment and out of the winter’s frigid morning air.

“When?”

“Last Wednesday—”

“—did I ask? Oh! Boom! Gotcha!” You whoop out an exclamation of victory as you continue down the hall. “Gosh, I am four for four now. You gotta step up your game, Logie-bear, or this is gonna end in a miserable shut out for you.”

He heaves out a heavy sigh that carries with it twenty-two years of suppressed brotherly rage and the exhaustion that can only come from being reminded at every chance that he is, and always will be, a minute younger than you. “You're the bane of my existence, and I do sincerely hope you know this.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

You step into the small kitchen at the end of the hall. With the exception of a little potted cactus sitting on the windowsill— a housewarming gift from you— it looks nearly identical to how it was the last time you visited.

A month ago.

When he moved in.

There's a woven mat on the floor in front of the sink, an ashy green that contrasts nicely with the off-white cream color of the cabinets and laminate countertops. You can't really tell if Logan actually bought the mat, or if it came with the place, but it's cute nonetheless and serves as one of the few pops of color in the otherwise monochromatically beige apartment.

“I see that my cactus continues to reign supreme as the only individuality in this place,” you comment, glancing over your shoulder in time to see him appear in the doorway.

He shrugs at your words. “Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how busy you can get when you're preparing for everything you've ever dreamed about. No biggie.”

“Logan,” you turn to face him, “you'll do great. There are two other rookies on the grid—”

“And I'll be in the worst car out of all of them.”

“You don't know that,” you chide gently.

This side of Logan isn't unfamiliar to you— the anxiety and fear of failure. It's always existed, and you've known about it since the morning of his first kart race when he confided in you that he was so nervous he felt like he was going to be sick.

The insecurities surrounding his own skills have persisted and thrived with every new track, every new team, and every new series, and as you've grown alongside him you've found ways to challenge his self-doubt, but you've also learned to accept that there's only so much you alone can do.

You can debate it and challenge the self-deprecating thoughts all you want, but the voice in his head will always be there, no matter how quiet it occasionally becomes.

So you choose to drop the topic for now.

It's too early in the morning for an impromptu therapy session anyway.

You turn back around and scan the countertops until your eyes latch onto the container of pre-workout tucked away in the corner, nearly hidden amidst the mountain of vitamin and nutrient supplements.

“I thought it was part of Benny’s job to make sure you didn't have to use all this shit,” you comment, picking through the jars and eyeing them each with unapologetic distaste.

Logan reaches over your shoulder and plucks a packet of vitamin C tablets from your hand, “Sometimes these just work better.”

“Yeah, maybe if you don’t have a nutritionist being paid to quite literally curate a diet specifically to ensure that you don’t need to use these,” you gesture widely to the assembled mass of supplements. “But, last I checked, dear brother of mine, you do have a nutritionist— and a very good one at that— who would be horrified to learn you’re substituting real fruit for…” you squint down at the nutritional label of another one of the jars, but there’s very little that you recognize amidst the scientific jargon and long, five-syllable words, “little gummies that taste like fruit.”

He huffs, “Get your pre-workout or I'm leaving without you.”

“You wouldn't dare leave without me,” you grumble.

“I've done it before and I'll do it again,” he snipes, giving a brief yank on your ponytail and cackling when you swat behind yourself in futility.

There’s more he isn’t saying— there always is, nowadays— but you recognize the deflection for what it is. You want to claw him apart with questions and demand answers that bare every inch of his soul so you understand what he isn’t telling you and why he feels the need to keep it locked away even from you, but you know better than to keep pushing at something Logan clearly doesn’t want to talk about.

It makes you nostalgic for a time in your life when he’d sneak down from the top of the bunk bed after your parents had tucked you away for the night and slip under the covers with you, a well-loved stuffed bear hugged to his chest. He’d curl up beside you and you’d pull the blankets up to your chin and watch him with big, curious eyes until he’d whisper out into the darkness of your shared bedroom what he was worrying about.

More often than not it was a byproduct of a hyperactive imagination still plagued by the fears of childhood. Something about the space beneath your bed and— “What if there’s something down there? And the only way you can see it is by its glowing eyes? But what if it knows when someone is gonna look under the bed, so it closes its eyes so you can’t see the glow?” Or the curtains and— “You have to make sure they cover the whole window because what if you don’t and then something looks inside and it knows I’m not asleep and then it comes inside? I always hold really still and pretend to be asleep even when I’m not if the curtains aren’t closed.”

But sometimes it was about anything and everything else like the fox sitting in the bushes by the bus stop on the way home from school and whether or not it had water to keep it cool in the Florida heat, or the purple glitter pen Mrs. Moore used to grade his spelling test and how the girl sitting next to him had gotten her test graded with the green glitter pen, or— “I forgot my coat in Mr. Garrison’s class yesterday, and you went and got it for me and brought it to the car with you, and I didn’t say thank you, but I always feel bad when I leave my coat behind because what if it has feelings and felt really bad because it thought I was abandoning it, so thank you for getting my coat so it didn’t feel abandoned.”

But that was then and this is now.

You’re both adults, and you live in different apartments on different ends of the city, and you work different jobs that separate you by half the globe at times. There’s no more talk of foxes by bus stops or glitter pens, and certainly no more sentient coats with fears of abandonment.

When you look at Logan now, he isn’t wasting away, and really you owe it to him after you announced out of the blue a week ago that you weren’t just taking a break from competitive riding, but rather taking a break from riding as a whole. He didn’t press you on it then— still hasn’t pressed you on it despite having every right to do so. The least you can do now in return is respect the boundary he’s trying to set.

You mutter a few curses beneath your breath— words your mother would throw a fit over if she could hear you— and feign a scowl, but some of the tension in Logan’s shoulders has released and that's all you can ask for.

“If you leave me behind, I’ll leak a picture of your pathetic kitchen to the tabloids and let everyone tear apart your design choices,” you threaten, digging your knuckles into the tender spot of his arm where bicep meets shoulder and taking pride when he squirms away and beyond reach.

He flips you off. “You’re just jealous I have a cool cactus and you don’t.”

“Hey!” You give a lazy kick in his direction, but he sidesteps it easily with a laugh. “I gave you that cactus!”

“Tomato, tom-ah-to.” He flippantly waves his hand in your direction, laughing again at the indignant squawk you make. “Just hurry up and make your damn drink.”

As he makes his way out of the kitchen, presumably to grab his shoes, you unscrew the lid from the container and reach for the scoop.

Only to find it entirely empty.

“You asshole! There's nothing in here!”

Logan’s cackle echoes from another room.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 42,451 others

yourusername day 14 without london boy and i have officially succumbed to the boredom and willingly subjected myself to the presence of my arch nemesis (love you logie 🫶)

view all 1,382 comments

logansargeant in my defense, you just showed up

user you could not PAY me to go out in this weather

user as a florida girlie myself, this is my nightmare

↳ user REAL

↳ user genuinely seeing this makes me so glad i live in a place where there’s no snow cuz yea, the view is pretty and all, but not even a gorgeous sunrise would make up for me freezing my ass off and having to wear seven layers just to keep the feeling in my fingers and toes

user i wish the most stressful part of my day was going for a morning run 😔

user calling logan her nemesis is so real i just know that man is a menace

↳ user the f2 clips of him and liam are proof enough

↳ user logan sargeant was a menace back in f3 💀 have you SEEN the prema videos with oscar and fred? bro is diabolical when he wants to be

↳ user i'm so excited for the chaos he'll bring to the grid this year

user the snow man is so cute!!

user “14 days without london boy” OH I AM ILL 😭😭😭

user ok but that view is gorgeousness

↳ user ikr?! winter sunrises are genuinely so pretty

user i’m still so confused as to why she isn’t riding anymore?? can someone pls explain

↳ user to be entirely honest, i’m not sure really what there is to explain. first and foremost, we aren’t owed any sort of explanation as to why she’s decided to take a step back from riding. it could be a personal decision, a career decision, or something else, but whatever it is we aren’t automatically entitled to it just because y/n has previously been very open and vocal about her and london boy’s training. second, she never actually said that she isn’t riding anymore. she said she’s taking a step back from competitive riding to focus on other things, and the “without london boy” part of her caption implies that she hasn’t seen him, but she could just be taking a prolonged break, or she could be focusing on something else that has prevented her from going to see him. but again, none of it is our business and she doesn’t owe us any further explanation to what she meant.

↳ user THIS THIS THIS!! as sad as i am to not have london boy on my feed, y/n is a grown adult with her own private life and we have to respect her decisions!! if or when she chooses to come forward about the specifics of her future plans and goals, then that’s great and i’ll continue to support her endeavors, but for the time being we all just have to be patient

user the selfie logan posted with you on his story was so cute!! 🥰

user she’s a runner she’s a track star

user i’ve missed the twin content!

↳ user me too!! i really hope that her taking a break from competitions (as much as i love london boy) will mean we get to see her actually going to more of logan’s races, especially now that he’ll be in formula 1!!

oscarpiastri if the rumours are to be believed, i look forward to getting to catch up at the races this year

━━ tags: @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @awritingtree @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @elz-xo @the-navistar-carol

━━ a/n: surprise! i've been working on this for a little while now (i got my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, so the time i've spent recovering has been spent polishing up the last few details for this first part) but here she is! as promised, the newly rewritten and revamped 'he likes my american smile'! i feel like i always say it, but the original genuinely holds such a special place in my heart because it was the first work i ever posted here on tumblr, so i'm really happy to take all that i've learned since then and apply it where i can in this new version. i really hope the changes and development is as loved by you all as it is by me, and that you all enjoy!

[temptacioun]

yandere ! itadori yuuji & sukuna

requested by anon

— yuuji is probably the easiest roommate you could ask for. he cleans up after himself, does his dishes, his own laundry ; he’s generally quiet and never wants to be a bother. it’s actually quite a while until he seems comfortable enough in your presence. if only you knew.

— he tries so hard to hold back. yuuji isn’t delusional, he’s aware his feelings might run a little deep and his thoughts might be a little disturbing. he’s so glad you’re such a naive little thing.

— you don’t suspect a thing. not when he asks to cuddle on movie night, not when he offers his hoodies because all your shirts are somehow in the washing machine right now, not when he places a gentle hand on the small of your back and basically presses his crotch into your ass while he passes ; as if there wasn’t enough space behind him.

— he almost feels bad, but when he does his laundry and your red lace panties just sit there ontop of the machine ; like an invitation. “just take ‘em. she clearly left them there for us.” he tries to ignore the voice in his head. the disgusting curse nestled inside him seems to have taken a liking to you as well, and sukuna’s not as subtle.

— he has to struggle for control when your friends are over, preferring to stay in his room while he tunes out the nagging in his brain.

— “if they touch her again i’ll rip their fingers off. one by one.” “she doesn’t need them, let me take care of it.” “i’m going to fucking gauge out their eyes if they stare any longer.”

— they always leave earlier than intended with the way he stares them down from his doorway. and while his heart sinks whenever your lips turn into a small pout at their leave, or whenever they cancel plans because of him, the voice in his head growls at how pretty your lips would look sucking his cock instead.

— he’s lost control once. when he went to pee at night and his eyes catch sight of you, in his shirt, getting a glass of water. sukuna’s out faster than he can blink and he’s forced to watch while the curse presses against you, hands on your hips and sharp fingernails digging into your sides.

— “the brat’s too much of a pussy” he whispers, while your brows furrowed in discomfort and you try to wriggle yourself free. you know of your second roommate, and you know there’s no playing around. you plead in a such a soft voice when his nails scratch at your thighs and his lips brush your nape. “but i take what i want”

— you two don’t speak about that night.

— but he sees it. the way your eyes flicker with fear and the way you tense up ; the bruises are visible for a few days before they vanish, but your fear doesn’t. and yuuji only drops down the deep end.

— he doesn’t lose control anymore, he gives it over and it’s terrifying. you remember how he coaxes you out of your hiding places like he’s still the sweet boy you knew, and he remembers the look of betrayal and utter horror in your eyes when he forces himself on you.

— the curse is right, and he won’t let it have all the fun anymore.

[harryslittlefreakk]

recipe for disaster

summary: y/n is a stubborn, clumsy baker and harry is a stubborn, overbearing firefighter

warnings: none!

wordcount: 4k

a/n: hi my friends 💐 this is basically just setting up the story lolll it was meant to be longer but who has the time for that!! stay tuned for part 2 <3

masterlist 🫶🏼

Nothing felt better than a warm shower after a long day. Steam swirled all around you, the hot water pounding away the day’s fatigue - the morning rush, the non-stop hum of the mixers, the relentless work to keep trays filled with gingerbread men and warm cinnamon rolls.

You had always been proud of the bakery. The satisfaction of seeing customers bite into your creations - it was all yours. Every flaky croissant, every gooey cinnamon roll, every crusty loaf bore the unmistakable mark of your hands.

And that’s why, no matter how many times Claire told you to hire some more help, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “You can’t keep this up alone,” she’d said in mid-October, standing in the doorway of the kitchen while you worked. You were wrist-deep in bread dough, kneading away as though the flour had wronged you.

“I’m fine,” you’d replied, the words curt and clipped. “It’s my kitchen. I’ve got it under control.”

Claire didn’t look convinced. She never did. “Christmas is coming, y/n. Orders are already piling up, and it’s not even December. This is too much for one person.”

You waved her off, refusing to look up. “I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.”

But you hadn’t done it like this before. Back then, the bakery wasn’t so popular. There weren’t stacks of orders for holiday cakes, tins of cookies, and towers of Christmas pies. There wasn’t the constant pressure of phone calls and emails asking if you could squeeze in “just one more order.”

By the time December rolled around, you were drowning.

The days started earlier and ended later, the hours slipping away as you raced to keep up. You woke in darkness, stumbling into the bakery before the sun rose. Your hands ached from kneading, your back throbbed from bending over the ovens, and your head buzzed with the endless list of things to do. And yet, you’d refused to admit you needed help.

“I’m worried about you,” Claire had said one night, her voice soft but firm. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen again, watching as you haphazardly piped frosting onto yet another tray of sugar cookies. Your shoulders were slumped, your apron streaked with berry juice and chocolate.

“I’m fine,” you’d mumbled, though even you didn’t believe it.

“You’re not fine. You’re exhausted. You’re going to make mistakes.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, louder than you meant to. The words echoed in the kitchen, the air growing heavy. Claire didn’t reply. She just shook her head and left you to your chaos.

She was right. You knew she was right. And you knew that she’d snitch to your brother, who’d stop by to ask why you weren’t listening to his wife. Only to be followed by your parents, who’d ask why you weren’t listening to your brother.

They only cared for your well-being. They wanted you to succeed as much as you wanted to succeed. But you didn’t remember a time when the bakery wasn’t your baby. It had been your dream, your refuge, and your pride all wrapped into one - a living, breathing extension of yourself. The idea of sharing that, of letting someone else touch what you had built, felt like carving off a piece of your soul.

You squeezed your eyes shut until the screams of voices and thoughts were tiny whispers in the back of your mind, letting the water cascade over you, enveloping you in its warmth. The sound of the spray drowned out the noise in your head, a momentary reprieve from the chaos of orders, burnt loaves, and your own stubborn pride. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the water, the steam curling around you, and the faint rhythm of your breathing as you tried to piece yourself back together.

Every muscle ached, but the heat soothed it all into blissful numbness. It was pure paradise - at least until a rock came flying through your bathroom window, shattered glass crashing all over your tiles. What the fuck?

You turned the shower off with shaking hands, adrenaline coursing through your body. The cold winter air filled the room quickly, the evening wind whistling through the smashed pane.

You slipped your robe on with a groan, the fleece clinging to your damp skin.

That’s when the sound reached you - the incessant wailing of the smoke alarm from downstairs. Your stomach dropped. The bakery.

You’d sworn to be more switched on, to actually check the ovens before you retreated to your apartment. But the days were long, and your brain was goo by the time you waved the last customers out of the door.

The floors were wet beneath your feet as you slipped and skidded down the stairs, your mind cycling through every possibility of what would await you. A burglar who decided to commit arson? Your entire kitchen alight? The flower store next door burned to the ground, your beloved bakery an unfortunate casualty?

You reached for the light switch tentatively, your eyes landing on a curl of dark smoke seeping from the oven door. The entire bakery was dim, your soft lighting no match for the cloud hanging over the room.

That fucking deafening beeping was doing nothing to calm you down. You grabbed the broom, jabbing at the smoke alarm, and of course, missing the button every time, your hands shaking as the panic turned to adrenaline in your veins. Your free hand flapped wildly under the sensor, desperately trying to just Stop. The. Beeping.

“Hello? Let me in!”

A deep, husky man’s voice. The same man who was also pounding on your front door, his face pressed up against the glass.

If good things came in threes, how many bad things were you supposed to get at one time?

Your priorities might have been skewed, as they usually were, but getting rid of the axe murderer at your door was suddenly the most important thing in the world to you.

You charged towards the door, broom still in hand, throwing it open with a noise not too far from a growl. “It’s really not ideal for you to murder me right now! Come back later,” you shouted over the smoke alarm.

“I’m not- what?”

Okay, the murderer had a hot voice. But he was still a murderer. You pushed the door closed with your shoulder, but he wedged his shoe in the doorway, halting your attempt to shut him out. You glared down at the offending foot, your grip on the broom tightening.

"Look, I'm just trying to help," he said, holding his hands up. "I’m a firefighter. Saw smoke pouring out of your oven.”

“Help with what, exactly?” you shot back, trying to ignore the way his broad shoulders filled the doorway, or how his green eyes sparkled with the thrill of, presumably, rescuing reckless strangers. “Didn’t know firefighters made house calls.”

“Only the off-duty ones with nothing better to do,” he replied, a hint of a grin tugging at his mouth. "Now, can I come in and shut that alarm off for you, or are you planning to fight it out with your smoke detector all night?"

Reluctantly, you let go of the door, allowing him to step inside. He wasted no time reaching up to the beeping menace, silencing it with a practiced jab at the button. You couldn’t help but notice the sleeves of his t-shirt tighten around his arms as he reached up, the sliver of tattooed skin poking out from above his belt.

"Thanks," you muttered, crossing your arms as he looked back to you, his eyes sweeping over your chaotic kitchen, over your clearly naked body, and then back to your face, as if assessing the full scene. The corners of his lips quirked up as he turned to the oven, waving a hand at the remaining smoke.

You sighed, letting the last of your defenses fall. “You’re really not going to murder me, are you?”

"Not today," he chuckled, a low, warm sound that filled the small space. Your eyes caught on the way his strong hands moved, sure and gentle as he maneuvered around your kitchen. You leaned against the counter, pretending you weren’t staring at the way his arms flexed under the faded fabric.

He caught you looking, and to your utter embarrassment, he gave a small grin. “So… what exactly was this supposed to be?" he asked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he stepped closer, holding the charred remains of whatever had been inside.

“Oh shit. Mrs Fuller’s birthday cake,” you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. “I completely forgot I was baking that.” Great. Just another obstacle in the way of your early night.

“Hey, sorry about the window,” he murmured.

“Hm?” you asked, your voice distant, not really processing his words.

“The window,” he repeated, gesturing upward, your gaze following his hand to the ceiling. “Was only trying to get your attention,” he continued, his voice dipping into something apologetic. “Didn’t mean to break it.”

You shook your head, finally dragging your focus back to the mess in front of you. “It’s whatever,” you muttered, keeping your tone neutral, though your chest ached with the effort. “Just another point on my to-do list. Thanks for…” You gestured vaguely at the bakery, your voice trailing off.

“I can come by and fix it,” he offered, his voice tentative, like he wasn’t sure if you’d bite his head off or accept the help.

“I can do it,” you snapped, your words sharper than you intended. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger, and you could feel your control slipping. You needed him to leave, needed the space to let the tears spill over before they choked you entirely.

When you glanced up, you saw the change in his expression. The slight upturn of his lips faltered and turned into a somber frown. He looked at you like he wanted to ask something but thought better of it.

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, the heat of guilt flushing your face. “I’ve got it covered. Thanks, though.”

For a moment, he stood there, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. He glanced between you and the broken cake, the smoke still lingering above, and something in his eyes softened. He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it, nodding instead.

“Alright,” he said, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you cut in, desperate now. “It’s fine.”

He hesitated, his brow knitting tighter as if he wanted to say something else, but after a moment, he nodded. "Alright. If you’re sure."

You nodded back, barely looking at him, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if holding yourself together. The silence between you stretched until, mercifully, he turned and walked away.

The door creaked slightly as it began to close behind him, the faint sound of his trainers scuffing against the floor fading. You thought that was the end of it, but then the footsteps stopped. For a moment, the room held its breath, the silence pressing down like the weight in your chest.

Then, the door eased back open, just enough for him to lean his head inside. His dark eyes met yours, hesitant but determined, like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake but decided to do it anyway.

“Harry,” he said, his voice soft but clear as it cut through the stillness. He lingered there in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame, his shoulders tense as though bracing for rejection. “That’s my name. Harry.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but not far from it. You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden reappearance, the unexpected vulnerability in the way he said it. He waited, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response.

Your lips curved, just barely, into a weak but genuine smile. “Harry,” you repeated softly, like you were trying the name on for size. Then you added, “I’m…” Your voice faltered for a split second, but you pressed on, offering him your name in return. “Y/n.”

A spark of something warm flickered in his eyes, a hint of relief mingled with curiosity. He nodded once, as if committing it to memory, before straightening up and gripping the edge of the door.

And then he was gone.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the counter. Your knees felt weak, your chest tight, and the dam you’d been holding back began to crack. You stared at the mess around you, the cake you’d worked so hard on reduced to a heap of blackened crumbs, the endless pile of orders still waiting for you, and the tears you’d been fighting finally broke free.

It wasn’t just the window. It wasn’t just the cake. It was everything. The weight of trying to do it all alone, the exhaustion that clung to you like a second skin, the constant feeling that no matter how hard you worked, it was never enough.

You slid down to the floor, your back against the counter, letting the sobs come. For a moment, you allowed your emotions to swallow you, the frustration, the helplessness, the crushing loneliness. But even as you cried, part of you knew this couldn’t keep happening. Something had to give.

You pulled out your phone, typing a quick text to Claire. we’ll start looking for help tomorrow. promise.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, slumped against the counter, staring blankly at the mess surrounding you. The tears had stopped at some point, leaving behind a dull ache in your chest and the gritty sensation of salt drying on your cheeks. But soft rapping on the door pulled you out of your misery.

Wiping at your face with unsteady hands, you forced yourself to your feet, every movement feeling heavier than the last. When you opened the door, there he was: Harry, standing in the dim light, his arms full of cardboard, duct tape, and what looked like sheets of plastic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice raw and quieter than you’d meant it to be.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he nudged his way past you into the bakery, not waiting for permission, and glanced down at the materials in his arms. “You can’t leave the window broken in this cold,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Harry, it’s fine—” you began, stepping toward him, but he cut you off without looking up.

“It’s not fine,” he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute.

You stared at him for a moment, his gaze hard as he looked back at you.

“Come on. Help me with this window,” he murmured, waiting for you to lead the way upstairs. When you didn’t move, he shifted the materials in his arms, freeing up his right hand before reaching out and pulling at your wrist.

It sent a chill straight through you, sharp and unexpected.

You froze for a second, your breath catching in your throat. His touch was fleeting, a playful tug, but it left behind a heat that spread across your skin, unbidden and unwelcome. You pulled your hand back too quickly, clutching it to your side as if it had been burned, though the sensation was far from painful.

He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He kept waiting, his focus unwavering, but you couldn’t say the same.

There was a hum beneath your ribs now, something restless and alive, thrumming just below the surface. Attraction. You recognized it immediately, though you almost wished you didn’t. It didn’t make sense. You barely knew this man. He wasn’t someone you’d invited into your world, not really, and yet here he was - ready to fix your window, trying to fix your life, filling your space, making you feel something you hadn’t expected and didn’t know how to handle.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to push it down, to smother the thought before it took root. It was nothing. A moment. A reaction to being exhausted, overwhelmed, and vulnerable. But when he turned to look at you, his gaze steady and clear, it was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft, and you swore you could feel it reverberate somewhere deep inside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, your voice tight and uneven. You cleared your throat, pushing past him to the stairs. “I’ll show you the bathroom, but I need to get started on redoing this cake,” you told him, cocking your head back towards the kitchen.

Harry raised his eyebrows, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “No.”

His hand pressed into your lower back, pushing you closer to the stairs. “I know better than anyone that being tired in the kitchen is a bad idea. When does Mrs. Fuller need her cake?”

“Tomorrow evening,” you mumbled, hesitating as your toes hovered over the first step. Your voice was low, almost apologetic, but the weariness that gripped you made it impossible to summon anything stronger.

“Then you can deal with it tomorrow,” Harry said firmly, cutting off any protest before it could begin. His tone softened just slightly as he added, “After you’ve had a full night’s sleep.”

You turned back to face him, scowling instinctively. You were used to handling things on your own, not being told what to do, no matter how reasonable the suggestion might be. “You’re kind of overbearing, you know that?”

Harry only grinned, his expression as maddeningly charming as ever. “Wouldn’t be doing my duty if I wasn’t.” The hand on your lower back nudged you gently, urging you up the stairs as if you were a stubborn child refusing to go to bed.

You bit down on your lower lip, the indents of your teeth starting to feel like a permanent feature. As much as Harry was overstepping, he was clearly just as stubborn as you were, and it felt good to have someone forcibly taking care of you - not backing off in the hopes that you’d come around to their suggestions.

“In here,” you murmured when you reached the top of the stairs, an icy chill already filling your apartment. “I’m sure you can work out which one it is.”

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Harry slipped past you, your heart almost stopping as you realised for the first time that you were still just in your robe, a deep flush creeping up your cheeks, the scarlet heat of embarrassment burning through you just as Harry’s gaze flicked back toward you. His eyes swept over you briefly, lingering for only a moment at the hem of the robe before he cleared his throat and turned away.

“I’ve got it from here,” he said quietly, his voice steady and measured as he moved toward the window. He nudged a shard of glass away from your bare feet before giving you a pointed look. “Go on.”

You hesitated, torn between retreating to your bedroom and stubbornly insisting on staying. Ultimately, the embarrassment won out. You turned quickly, rushing to your room, your mind racing as that small, insistent voice in the back of your head screamed at you to not pull on your ratty old pajamas.

And yet, despite the voice, that’s exactly what you did. A threadbare cotton t-shirt and a pair of faded sweatpants found their way onto your body as you sat heavily on the edge of the bed, cradling your face in your hands.

There was a man in your bathroom, a man who quite clearly only wanted to help you - the same man you’d practically forcibly removed from the property. The same man that was causing some sort of chemical imbalance within you.

You’d have to grovel if you ever wanted to see him again - as if he’d ever want to see you again. You’d done nothing but snap at him and act like he was inconveniencing you.

Harry had seen you at your worst, your very worst, and you weren’t entirely sure you owed yourself the chance for him to see you at your best.

But you wanted him to.

You shook your head, forced yourself back to your feet and padded toward the bathroom. You stopped in the doorway, stunned, as he worked quickly, fitting cardboard over the shattered glass, layering plastic sheets on top, securing everything with careful strips of tape.

“I could’ve done it,” you muttered after a moment, your voice shaking despite yourself.

He glanced back at you briefly, his strong hands still busy with the repair, a smirk on those taunting lips. “Maybe. But you didn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, staring at the makeshift patch and the man who had put it together. The tightness in your chest eased slightly, though a storm of inner turmoil was brewing.

“Thanks,” you said finally, the word coming out soft and uneven.

He nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Don’t mention it.” He hesitated, glancing at you with a look that felt entirely too knowing. “You should take a break,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Get some rest, maybe. You look... worn out.”

You huffed a weak laugh, though it sounded more like a scoff. “Gee, thanks,” you said, trying to mask the lump rising in your throat.

He flashed you that dimpled grin, straightening up as he placed the last strip of tape on the window.

“That’ll hold for now. But you’ll need to get it sorted properly before the weather turns,” Harry murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

You followed him back downstairs, reiterating that yes, you’d get it sorted. Yes, you’d stay out of the kitchen that night. Yes, you’d double check how to work your alarms. Yes, you’d double check the ovens before you went upstairs. No, you didn’t want your business and home to burn down.

He turned to you when he reached the door, his green eyes laced with sincerity. “Take care of yourself, y/n. Seriously.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind a patched window and an unsettling quiet. But for once, you couldn’t find a reason not to follow the advice given to you. You were exhausted, and suddenly desperate to dream of the firefighter who’d all but swept you off your feet.

thank you so much for reading 🤍

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker r @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @triski73 @meetmeintheemeraldpool @harryshousewitnessprotection @danaehldy @fairytale07 @storyschanging @wannaliveinparadise e @mrs-anna-styles211994 @mema10 @fangirl509east @devilsqueen722 @harrrrystylesslut @panini @fruity-harry @lorat-o @savannahwendel @carolinaastyles @mads3502

[trulyumai]

Being Away From Thou

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

Request: hiii! could i request maybe protective messmer or like someone went too far with his wife? Love ur works have a grt day!!

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Synopsis: While Messmer is away, an intruder invades his keep.

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for no updates last week, I was so sick, but my updates shall be coming regularly now. Thank you so much for the support, comments, re-blogs!

Enjoy!

The woodlands burned with fervor and ashen contempt. On and on, Messmers flames bit against the wind, carrying it further and more desperately towards civilization; towards innocent people led by the golden vows. 

The man himself did nothing but watch as the orange twists of flame embedded itself against his orbs, made home in the reddened iris’. 

With a slumped form the man held a crease between his brow. It was getting late, he couldn’t imagine how worried his little wife would be. 

So, with long pale fingers wrapped around his dutiful spear, he followed the muddy roads home. 

His back lit up against the blinking sky; the stars were swallowed whole with blackened ash and gray bubbles of smoke.

Fall was coming to an end and the cold weather made his legs stiff. It was much harder to leave a bed nestled in furs— with his darling girl molded against his form shivering pathetically. 

His arms would lay about her waist, rubbing soothingly to ease out each shiver that was let out. 

He could imagine now— her little frame draping across his. 

So soft, so desperate, so—

“Gods.” He cursed. 

His devotion held no bounds, even miles away the red knight could be so enamored with her. 

To want her. 

To need her. 

Messmer picked up his pace, it was getting too uncomfortable being so far away from such a woman. 

His woman. 

-

The girl hummed, her fingers found themselves busy amongst the kitchen. 

She chopped, she seasoned, she boiled. 

Lost in her tune, the weather was ceaselessly beating against the window pane. Droplets of water cascaded down upon the glass, blocking her line of sight towards the back of the house. 

Dusting her fingers across the cooked meat she tusked. 

“Not yet,” with a quick move of the hand the meat was placed back upon the rack; cooking slowly across the stove. 

All of a sudden, a bang sounded. It echoed through the little house and made the girl drop a wooden bowl that laid upon her delicate hands. 

Letting out a shriek the bowl rolled past her ankle, bumping into the lower cabinets where it splayed carelessly out. 

“H-hello?” She breathed quick— too nervous to let out a deep and guttural one. 

Turning towards the living space she was met with silence. The fire had burnt out, little sizzles could be heard from its desperate attempt to stay lit. 

The rain pelted against the walls— loud and harsh. 

Gulping, she made sure the bolt upon the door was in place, remembering Messmers words before his departure. 

“The door, darling. You mustn’t forget the latch. Double, triple check its placement upon the—“

She did nothing but stare up at him with lost, scared eyes. 

She hated to see him leave, especially so soon after his last mission. Little hands gripped harder onto the man’s forearm, nearly doubling the size and width of her own. 

“Wife,” the knight chastised.

“Is thou even listening?” 

“Yes,” her eyes rolled back playfully. 

“Check the door. I heard you, dear husband.” 

Two fingers found their way below her chin, tilting it upwards with a careful pressure. 

“I will be back in two days time, the capital has asked for reinforcements; thou will remain here. Safe.” His nails traced across her jawline, a shiver ran across the girl's spine. 

“I’ll miss you,” leaning into the man’s embrace she allowed her eyes to close. Her lashes fluttered with how warm the man’s palm laid. 

Messmer chuckled, it was deep— comforting. 

“I know, sweet girl.” Ignoring how the strings of his heart pulled at such an image, he removed his hand. 

If he stayed any longer— there would be no going to the useless capital. His mother would have his head, surely.

He could have said how much he’d miss her, how he loathes to leave her presence. 

Mention that he needed to kiss her frame every couple minutes or an itch would invade his mind. 

But he didn’t. 

He simply turned away, faced towards the erdflowers displayed upon their walkway. 

“Lock the door.” His armor clattered with each step he took, swaying with good measure. Not tearing her eyes off the tall knight she smiled.

“I love you!” She called out 

The man’s steps faltered. His head dipped with shame before he decided to look over one last time. 

“And I you,” turning his head one yellow iris glanced upon her form, before disappearing into the trees. 

- 

That was two nights ago. She had been so anxious waiting, it nearly slipped her mind. 

She found little jobs here and there to occupy the time. 

Clean the floors, dust the walkway, water the plants that littered about the garden. 

Her hands kept busy so her mind could rest. It hadn’t even occurred that Messmer was late. 

Backing up from the door, her back bumped into an object- a person? 

Dirtied hands rose to cover her mouth, a muffled cry pressed against the trespasser. 

“Shhh, shh girl.” The man bent down, saffron colored teeth grazed her ear and the smell of something rotten hit her senses. 

“The man of the keep. Where is he?” The voice was gruff, she tried to place it- to remember who could hold such a hostile tone but nothing came. Her form shook as the grip tightened around her face, squeezing at her cheeks. After nothing but silence, one hand came around to press itself onto her stomach. 

“Oi love, don’t make me hurt you,” the barbarian teased, his lips still on the shell of her ear. 

“Mmmh- mm!”

“What was- oh… my apologies lovely,” laughing to himself the hand was removed from the womans mouth, a gasp of air was taken almost immediately. 

“He's, he’s not here.” Grabbing at her cheeks she rubbed them, soothingly trying to ease the sore red spots easing their way onto her skin. 

“You're lying.” He spat, already flexing his other hand that leered against the wall. 

“I'm not!”

The hand tightened around her stomach, with an unexpected shove the girl crashed onto the wood beneath her. Skin blisters around each knee in response, and her chin bled lightly against the scratchy surface.

The barbarian lay on top of her now, with an arm holding each of hers. The other hand began flexing in the hair of her head, pulling it back with a smug grin. 

“Lie again.”

Scowling against the pressure her eyes squeezed shut. 

Think, think, think!

Don't let him take you, don't let him- 

A jingle rang out. All heads snapped towards the front door, where the knob jiggled and wobbled against a strength. 

Not liking the newfound company, the tyrant stood quick, and with a pull began to drag the woman towards the back garden.

Blood from her chin seeped out imminently, it left a trail of maroon to be displayed against the surrounding brown.

“Stop!” Her nails dug into the ground, cracking against the material roughly. 

“Shut it!” Tugging harder he kicked the woman who began to resist, she cried out in response.

Loud, too loud.

The man glanced up, his eyes widened with fear and static crawled up his legs and arms. 

The lock lay busted, hanging on by a thread. It swung loudly, creaked with each shift it took. 

Reddened armor bursted across his vision, and he noticed, with much disappointment, that the man of the keep was a knight. 

The Flame Knight. 

“I-I,

“An intruder?” Messmer questioned, although it sounded more so like a statement.  His head tilted slightly towards the opposing man's direction. His gaze lowered, to see his little woman stare back at him. 

The blood was noticed first, then the marks. 

Until finally, his eyes squinted at the filthy hands lying about her like a casual occurrence. 

Messmers hands gripped tightly upon his spear, until blue veins popped out in rage, until the jagged metal dug into his skin. 

“Wife,” The flame called out. 

The girl in response looked upon him, shame embedded into her features. 

“Look away.”

And so she did. Her arms covered her ears pathetically to drown out the screaming, the crying that only seemed to get louder with each gushing blow. 

She heard the blood hit the ground, like spilling a mug of honeydew, it was heavy, unpleasant. 

Until finally, silence. 

It was only moments later that a light touch skirted across her back. Craning her head up, she saw her husband; on his knees in front of her. He looked angry, hateful even.  

Her bottom lip wobbled as tears spewed from her lashes, lazily adorning her cheeks and plopping onto her already ruined nightgown. 

The knight did not hesitate to lean over and grab her, shoving the woman onto his lap carefully before bumping his nose on her neck. 

Inhaling, the man could once again feel himself coming down for the second time that night. The anger slowly dissipated with each breath of honey and flowers that clung to his wifes skin.

“Welcome home, my love,” she whispered, voice weak and tired from the prior endeavors. Already she wanted bed, to rest until her husband kissed each bruise away. 

Messmer hummed and stood with the smaller woman in his grasp, already on his way to rest for the night. 

Not bothering to step over the body littering his living room his boot collided with a limb, it squelched with the action. 

With now bloody strides, Messmer took his time up the stairs, with each step closer to the bedroom his head ducked down, laying a kiss upon the girl's forehead. 

Already, she began to forget about the trespasser, the blood that lay staining the floorboards. 

For each kiss was so warm- so loving, it was hard to think of anything else.

[bangtaninborderland]

JJK- Late Night Calls.

you get a call from Jungkook at 7am, struck with worry you pick up only to find your adorably tired boyfriend.

Genre: smut, fluff, Jungkook x reader.

Warning: NONE!

A/N: came up with this in 10 minuets thought it was cute enjoy :)

The familiar tune of your phone ringing broke you from your sleep, your vision was blurry but you could still clearly read the caller ID

Incoming Factime Video call: JK ♥️

It must have been 7am in Korea, Jungkook was never awake this early. You quickly answered, a million scenarios running through your mind as to explain why he was calling at such a time and none of them were good.

“Hello?”

He must have seen the panic in your face as he croaked out. “Baby what’s wrong?”

“I thought something happened you’re never awake this early?” You felt a small weight lift off your shoulders as he chuckled.

“I’m fine baby just couldn’t sleep, missed you.” You loved how he sounded when he was sleepy.

You laughed at the way he was laying across his bed, small rolled up pillow underneath him. “You have got to get different pillows.”

“No no I like my pillow.” He laughs, showing you how comfortable it is. “How’s London jagiya?”

You suddenly regretted being in a different country for work, the idea of morning sex seemingly more attractive than anything else. “It’s fine here, I can’t wait to be back home though. The food isn’t as good.”

“The food is the only thing?” He pouted, pulling the blanket further over his face. “What about me and bammie?”

You turned to the side, resting your leg atop the blanket. “Of course I miss you and bam too kook.”

“The bed is cold without you, empty. I think you should quit work and just be a stay at home wife.” He laughed again, although you could tell there was a sliver of hope to his absurd suggestion.

“Never gonna happen, you may be rich but I’m only half way there.” You both laughed, money was never something either of you took seriously you had always shared everything for as long as you could remember. You’d buy him dinner and he would buy dessert. He would buy you designer but he would also be more than happy if you brought him a pack of ramen. “Besides we aren’t even married.”

“Don’t remind me.” He shakes his head, before shifting to rest it upon his arms. “How many days until your back?”

“We should have the contracts finished up in a day or two and then we will have a celebratory dinner and I’ll be on the first flight back.” You explained as you watched him, his tattoos standing out against the white fabric of his sheets, his hair messy. You let your eyes wander, your imagination running wild thinking about how he would look completely naked. “are you wearing pants?”

“Come back and find out jagiya, I’m sure you’re already picturing the ways I’d fuck you.”

The sudden vulgarity of his words left you in a state of shock. “I- when I get home we are definitely doing whatever I’m thinking right now.”

“And what is that doll?” He laughed, fingers drawing circles on the sheet. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

“Just thinking about how good your hand would look wrapped around my neck.” You pushed yourself further into the pillow, slightly shy.

“Too bad you’re too far away baby. We should sleep.” He closed his eyes, teasing you.

You groaned, fighting the urge to grind against the sheets. “Kook.”

“Hmm?” He mumbled, lazily.

“You turned me on.” You giggled, closing your eyes.

“I’m hard too beautiful, I’ll go to sleep thinking about good good your mouth will feel around my cock.

“Why couldn’t you call me at 8pm and get all dirty with me? Why does it have to be when I’m too tired to do anything?” You whined, wanting to cry from how much you missed his touch.

“It’s okay princess when you’re home I’ll take care of you. we should still sleep you have a meeting tomorrow morning don’t you?” You opened one eye, just enough to see him staring at you smiling.

“At six am, it’s 11pm right now. I have to wake up at 4am so I can finish the presentation.” You explained, your words slurring as you started to drift off. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I have a few appointments nothing important, call me anytime tomorrow I’ll be there but for now get some sleep baby, I won’t hang up.”

“Promise?” You whispered, the folds of sleep covering you in a sheet of darkness.

“Always jagiya.”

[heartpascal]

masterlist. . .

important: help free palestine verified fundraising a blog for resources daily clicks

PALESTINE LINKS — via abbyshands

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collection of my writings! more to come… stay tuned

alternatively, read over on my ao3!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

JOEL MILLER

▹ late spring, f!reader — you and joel didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but things have started to change, at least for you. [2.2K words]

▹ the gold, f!reader — you don’t like the person joel’s become. [2.1K words]

▹ i’ll be brave, platonic!f!reader — an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways than one. [2.4K words]

▹ i am good, platonic!f!reader — joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you. [2.4K words]

▹ the crooked kind, platonic!f!reader — you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day. [2.5K words]

▹ the tunnel, platonic!f!reader — joel gets hurt, and in the face of losing the only person you have left, something inside of you breaks. [2.7K words]

▹ to an empty house, niece!reader — tommy hasn’t been your dad for a very long time. [3.0K words]

↳ something is rotten, niece!reader — part two, arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations. [4.0K words]

▹ so far from it, platonic!f!reader — you get yourself into some trouble, luckily, you know who to call for help. [2.3K words]

▹ all my faith, platonic!f!reader — joel and tess raised you, in a moment of anger, he nearly loses you. [5.3K words]

▹ if the door wasnt shut, platonic!f!reader — months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating. [5.1K words]

↳ i would let you in, platonic!f!reader — part two, after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure. [7.5K words] ↳ lock it when you leave, platonic!f!reader — part three, tensions rise in jackson, leaving you scrambling to find your place. [6.9K words] ↳ check under the doormat, platonic!f!reader — part four, settling down fully in jackson means new friends and more patrols. what could go wrong? [9.7K words] ↳ you’ll find the key, platonic!f!reader — part five, after feeling hopeless, you decide it’s time to heal [10.5K words]

↳ please don’t lose it again, platonic!f!reader — a what if one shot, the aftermath, set in tlou part two [2.7K words]

▹ the world is brighter, platonic!f!reader — joel is trying to be someone he’s not. [13.0K words]

▹ weight too heavy to hold alone, platonic!reader — joel’s life in jackson is much more complicated than he thought it’d be [4.0K words]

↳ hoping there’s somewhere to go, platonic!reader — you try to navigate life after the rejection of the only family you’d ever had [3.9K words] — Recent Work!

▹ break beneath the weight, platonic!reader — joel struggles to deal with someone who isn’t as emotionally constipated as he is [3.9K words]

▹ carved over the door, platonic!reader — you’ve been hiding something, and joel finally finds out what. his reaction is… not what you expected [2.1K words]

▹ forgive the sea, platonic!reader — after a trip to the outside world, you come back different [3.0K words]

▹ when the sun goes down, platonic!f!reader — joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does [3.6K words]

▹ the sun was collapsing, platonic!reader — joel thought you moving to a college halfway across the country would be the worst thing to happen to his family [6.6K words]

▹ fight the tide, platonic!reader — you face the consequences of going to seattle, set in tlou 2 [3.3K words]

▹ i was born waiting, daughter!reader — you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him? [8.1K words] — Recent Work!

▹ joel’s place, platonic!reader — you visit the cemetery [2.2K words] — Newest Work!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

TOMMY MILLER

Nothing here yet!

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SPIDERVERSE

▹ is it freedom?, platonic!reader — after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along [8.0K words]

↳ or is it loneliness?, platonic!reader — you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that [9.2K words]

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. . .check out howl’s song association!

and my platonic joel miller recs!

[colourstreakgryffin]

hii i really like your righting and i have a story idea ok its a hazbin hotel one.

so like alastor leave child reader for 7 years and like she/he/they feel abandoned and he(alstor) said he would go then come back like for a few hours, but a few hours turns unto days then days turnd to a year then 1 year turnd to 7. so now hes back but your with... vox(or Valentino just one of then u can pick)?

so now they feel abandoned and are like vox or Valentino tells them in a toxic way that they should stay with them

like i just need that drama. like i need drama to happen here!

so i would just love it if u did. and i think i have so ok ideas. so if u like this i could like come up with more! but for now this is all i got and it would mean a lot if u did this

Oooh. Right. It’s been some time since I written some juicy spicy draaammma~! I like it. It may not be that long but it’s still good. A great way to tease you all with a potential cliffhanger~! Hehe 🩷

Alastor- Abandonment Issues

That door will never open, will it…? It’s been this way for such a long time. You can’t remember when the bright red deer featured Overlord called your father would regularly arrive home. Now, that doesn’t exist. You almost forgot his name… it’s been so long

You were just a mere young child, a sweet little one that Alastor devoted his whole soul too and loved more than anything

One day, a normal day, he had to announce he was going away for a few hours to your face. Of course. It took some convincing and kisses and nuzzling for him to get you to let him go but you eventually came around and wave goodbye to your beloved father, as he proclaimed with his fancy radio-tuned voice he’d return in a flash

And you wish you never did

He said a few hours… it’s been longer than a few hours. You suspected he’d be back the next morning but he wasn’t. Rosie, Alastor’s most trusted friend, picked you up that morning since she learnt you were alone through her many eyes around Pentagram City and she took care of you. As much as you appreciate and respect Ms. Rosie for all she’s done for you… you want your father

He never came back. He never fulfilled his promise. He lied. He lied to your face and didn’t even have the decency to send you a letter

It’s been years. Though, the time felt like it flew by under Rosie’s loving care. The hours ticked over to days, those days ticked over to months, those months ticked over to years and now. You’ve reached the final stretch, seven years after the day your father just disappeared into the shadows with no semblance of communication or truth

Now. Apparently, he’s back… and you don’t want to talk to him. He lied to your face, why should you even give him the time of day?

Rosie is the one who mainly cared for you but she also let you go to Vox a number of times, the technology Overlord, when he offered to assist as he had learnt you didn’t have the Radio Demon anymore and he saw the perfect opportunity to finally beat the Deer once and for all

Rosie cared deeply for your safety and happiness so she entrusted Vox for his own power, blind to what Vox would end up doing to your perception of Alastor as he ensured to ruin it beyond repair by subtly manipulating you

“I am so sorry about him, love. Why don’t you come with me? I promise. I’ll give you everything you want and I won’t leave you”

Right from the start, Vox would love-bomb, in the most toxic but clouded way possible. Sweetly coo, express how frustrating it is to know a beautiful star like you was abandoned by your own parent and he questioned out loud how Alastor could do such a vile thing. This simple act, this sugar coating on your nose from the dastardly TV-head, was almost more than enough for you to start resenting your own father

Vox played your new father for the years he helped care for you, with the full intent to make Alastor’s most precious love turn on him and he succeeded so well, he couldn’t believe it. He raised you, joint with Rosie and he’s internally jumping for joy everytime you proclaim how mad or upset you are with Alastor for what he did

Not aware that Alastor wasn’t trying to leave you, he tried to talk to you but he couldn’t… his deal held him back. He didn’t want to tell you. He just… he was trying to protect you

Alastor immediately catches wind of what Vox did to you, almost the moment he is back in the City. That… that sly businessman shaped his precious baby deer to behave like a hateful spiteful beast at the mention of him. He couldn’t believe his baby… hates him. He didn’t mean for this, he couldn’t even take it. Almost nobody suspects that Alastor would express his regret and sorrow in public but he does

Just at the discovery that you don’t love him anymore but hate him with your guts, his little sunshine that’s almost fully grown now. You’ve become the right hand to his worst rival, you remember little about him and you love HIM more… that hurts more than any deal he’s stuck in, could

Alastor caught on the disturbing sight and it made him what to claw his eyes out in disbelief. Arriving up at the Overlord building for a meeting about some particular angelic issues, his sight and his brain not coming to terms with the fact you’re snuggling Vox’s lap and giving him love and affection like you’re HIS child whilst Vox reciprocates every drop you give him

But Alastor knew better… Vox is using you to get back at him, the ultimate revenge

His dual Transatlantic accent and radio tune dropping, his real voice… weak and tired from all he’s done these seven years with his soul-crushing deal and now defeated from the fact he’s lost you to the worst Sinner in Hell. His smile had actually faltered for possibly the first time ever, he just… he couldn’t pretend to smile at what he is seeing

Alastor speaks up the best he can, catching you and Vox’s attention in a smooth snap with his fluffy tall deer ears openly drawn back, clear pain in his crimson red eyes and lacing his tone but he doesn’t move from his spot at the entrance of this meeting room, clutching his microphone-staff hard enough for it to break in half, holding back the urge to rip apart Vox for this

It’s almost enough to make your heart pity him… almost

“G… Gris-Gris…?”

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hey I love ur fics, can you maybe do like a Trevor evarts headcanon? Or a Spencer Agnew fic that takes place at the Shourtney reception.

Marry Me || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: after seeing shayne and courtney tie the knot, you are worried that you’ll never find a love like theirs. that’s when you start to see your best friend spencer in a new light

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

a/n: ok first of all i know everyone and their pet rat uses this pic but i couldn’t help it this photo of spencer does things to me 🫠 second of all, i loved both of these ideas and so i had to write them both!! trevor hcs to come stay tuned 🤭 i took some inspiration from that one friends ep in london for this iykyk so thanks mondler. enjoy!!

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    “Spencer, if you were a guy you’d marry me, right?” 

     “First of all, ouch.” Spencer clutched his chest. “And second of all, what?”

     “I mean, is there something un-marryable about me?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. 

     You didn’t know what was bringing on all of the sudden thoughts about being married—or not being married.

     Well, that was a lie. You did know.

     You had just watched two of your best friends get married earlier that day. Shayne and Courtney were perfect for each other. You were so happy for them and you loved being happy for them.

     But now, as you leaned against the bar at the reception, you couldn’t help but worry that this would never happen for you.

     You’d had lousy, short-lived relationship after lousy, short-lived relationship. Up until you met your last partner, who you’d dated for a year and a half. 

     It was the first long-term relationship you’d had—with someone you thought you could end up marrying.

        That didn’t turn out exactly how you thought it would. You’d broken up last month. 

    You’d always thought the fact that you’d end up with someone for life was a given. It just happened. It had to. But now you weren’t so sure. 

     “I don’t think so,” Spencer looked you up and down, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts. “People settle all the time.”

    You whacked Spencer on the arm. “Very funny. But when I end up as an old cat lady living in your basement, it won’t be.”

     You and Spencer had been best friends for as long as you could remember. It was him who’d gotten you your job at Smosh and introduced you to all the people you were surrounded by now. 

     “There are worse fates. Cats are dope and I’ll always run the ac.” 

     “Spencer,” you whined. “I’m serious.”

     “Yes, (Y/n), I’m sure someone out there would love to marry you,” he said. “Now can I go now? I heard there’s a La Croix tower inside.”

     “I wish,” Shayne said, walking by and overhearing. “Courtney ixnayed that idea a while ago.”

     “Not until I get my wenching hour!” Courtney stated, catching up and stopping to kiss her husband. 

     “Congratulations guys,” you called as they kept walking, mingling with more people.

     You wanted that. Not the La Croixs or whatever Court was talking about, but a relationship like theirs. 

     A best friend who knows everything about you and who would do anything for you. Someone who you spend all of your time with, not knowing how you feel about them until you do. And then getting to know them as a partner and becoming intimate with them in a new way.

     Getting to love them in a new way.

     You groaned, turning to Spencer. “Do me a favor? If we’re both single when we’re 40, let’s get married.”

     “Woah, what makes you think I’m going to be single when I’m 40?”

     You raised an eyebrow. 

     “Yeah ok fine, I’ll marry you,” he agreed.

     You sighed and Spencer took a step closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulder. 

     “Hey, you’re going to find someone,” he said sincerely, “You’re kind and funny and beautiful. Lots of people would be lucky to have you.”

     “You’re just saying that,” you waved him off.

     “I’m dead serious,” he said, turning so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re one of the best people I know. Any guy who doesn’t love you immediately is on something.”

     You looked into his eyes as he comforted you. He looked like he really believed all of the things he was saying to you.

     This suddenly felt…different. As Spencer pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around you, you couldn’t help but…

     No. This was Spencer. He was being a good friend, this was normal. Why now should you be…

     But you couldn’t keep the thought from creeping into the back of your mind. Spencer…

     You may have had a tiny crush on Spencer when you had first met. Who wouldn’t, you had thought. He was funny and cool and had killer tattoos. But once you’d become friends, all of that attraction had turned into friendship and you hadn’t thought of him that way since.

     Until now…

     You pulled away from Spencer’s embrace slowly. 

     “You’re going to get married, ok? You’re a catch. And if not, then I’ll be happy to marry you at 40. I’ll start picking out my tux tomorrow.”

     You smiled, thinking how sweet Spencer was being. 

     “Now, let’s talk about how many cats you’re going to have in my basement, because I max out at eleven.”

     And just like that the spell was broken. This was Spencer, your best friend. Who was always teasing you and making you laugh and definitely wasn’t someone you were romantically interested in.

     Right?

     “And if I had my heart set on twelve?” You asked him, carrying on the joke.

     “I guess I could make an exception,” he shrugged. “But only because I love you.”

     Your heart leapt and you tried to tell it to shut up. You and Spencer had told each other you loved each other several times. So why now did it just encourage your thoughts.

     Just then someone a few yards away called Spencer over.

     “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” he told you. “Try not to marry a stranger while I’m gone.”

     And then he left you to your musings. You didn’t like Spencer, not like that. 

     You blamed it on the wanting a relationship like Shayne and Courtney. And you had just been worried that you were never going to find anyone, and Spencer had comforted you. 

     Maybe you just felt grateful, that was all. Grateful that your best friend was there to cheer you up.

      But you couldn’t picture Spencer calling you beautiful and then wrapping his arms around you without feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

     You imagined actually marrying Spencer. You had said it mostly as a joke and partly so you could have a backup in case you really were alone forever. 

     But now, the more you thought about it, the thought of being married to Spencer, sharing everything and being together for the rest of your lives, didn’t seem like just a backup. 

     Oh god. Maybe you did have feelings for Spencer. Maybe you always had. You tried to think back on your relationship, looking for signs. 

     You’d always felt close to him. Closer than you were with anybody else. Maybe it had always been him and you just hadn’t seen it in a while.  

     You began walking, desperate to be away from your thoughts and needing the distraction of moving. 

     You looked up just in time to realize you’d almost run into Amanda and Angela.

     “Hey guys,” you said, “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

     “Been there!” Angela leaned in for a high five and you looked down at the drink in your hand.

     “Oh no, it’s not—I’m not drunk,” you said. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

     “Ooh, wedding tea!” Amanda exclaimed. “Spill.”

     You sighed. What was the harm in telling them. “You ever suddenly realize you might have feelings for your best friend even though you’ve never thought of them like that before?”

     “Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Angela gestured around her at the wedding festivities.  

     “That is pretty Shourtney coded,” Amanda nodded her head, before whispering to Angela, “Did I use that right?”

     Angela patted her on the shoulder.

     “I’m not talking about Shayne and Courtney,” you said.

     “Then never,” Angela said

     “All the time,” Amanda said at the same time, thinking. “Wait who do you—Spencer?”

     Angela hit her in the arm.

    “I mean, Spencer?” She said much quieter that time.

     “Maybe,” you whispered, not being able to stop the smile spreading on your face. 

     “Since when?” Angela asked you.

     “Like ten minutes ago?” You answered. “But in a way maybe I’ve always known? I was telling him all this stuff about how I was worried I’d never get married and that I was going to end up alone and he was so sweet and reassuring and now I can’t get the thought of him out of my head and…” you groaned, trailing off. “And now I don’t know.” 

     Angela and Amanda shared a look. “We have to,” Angela said.

     “Angela, we promised,” Amanda chided, shaking her head.

     “But c’mon,” she gestured at you. “We have to say something.”

     “Ok guys? I can still hear you,” you told them. 

     “Right, sorry.” Angela said. “It’s just—”

     “Spencerhasacrushonyou,” Amanda spit out.

     “Dude!” Angela threw her arms up. 

     “Sorry,” Amanda bit her lip.

     “You knew I wanted to say it,” Angela mumbled. “But I get it, not the time.”

     “Back up,” you got out, “What?”

     “Spencer really likes you, (Y/n),” Angela said. “We’ve known for a while now. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone at the office except you has known for a while now.”

     What? You couldn’t believe your ears. What they were saying didn’t make sense. There was no way Spencer, your best friend, had had feelings for you this whole time.

     “No,” you said, taking a step back. “You guys are crazy.”

     “Yes,” Angela agreed. “But not about this.”

     “Ask him yourself,” Amanda said.

     “Yeah, and you know, just don’t mention that we were the ones who told you,” Angela shrugged.

     Were you really going to do this?

     You took a deep breath. What would you even say?

     Hey, a little birdie told me that you have a crush on me and I, as of very recently, have feelings for you, let’s see where this goes?

     “Hey, Angela,” Amanda suddenly stated  loudly. “Look, it’s that guy!”

    She pointed in the opposite direction and Angela’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I love that guy!”

     You turned around, seeing that Spencer was approaching you. 

     “Thanks guys,” you muttered sarcastically.

     They both hurried away and Angela winked at you as they passed. You rolled your eyes.

     Spencer came up behind you. “Damn, you don’t take a shower for like one day...”    

     You laughed. “No, they just had to run. Saw some guy, apparently.”

     “(Y/n), what’s up?” Spencer looked at you. “You kinda look like you had some of that punch inside.”

     He made a face.

     “You have feelings for me?” you blurted out.

     Arguably, you could’ve handled that better. You didn’t even mean to say it, but upon seeing Spencer it had just kinda slipped out. 

     Spencer’s expression turned into one of shock. He fumbled for words. “I, um—I don’t—who told you?”

     Is what he finally settled on.

     “Because if it was Angela, I swear—”

     “It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “What matters is, is it true?”

     Spencer sighed. “Wow, um, I definitely didn’t mean for you to find out this way—or at all, for that matter—but yeah. The eleven cats are out of the bag. I guess I have feelings for you.”

     “For how long?” You mumbled, still in disbelief even though he had just confirmed it. This night was a roller coaster of emotions.

     “For as long as I can remember,” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Since the moment I met you.”

      You let out a breath. You didn’t know what to say.

     “But its no big deal!” He hurried out. “I’ve gone years of being your friend without you ever knowing. I’ve gotten kind of good at it. Since you obviously don’t feel the same way, can we just pretend this never happened and go back to the way things were?”

     “No,” you said slowly. “No, I can’t do that.”

     “Yeah, well, I guess this does sort of ruin our friendship, huh?” He deflated, looking at the ground. “I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable with—”

     And that was all he got out before you kissed him. 

     He looked surprised for almost two seconds before he wrapped his arms around you slowly and kissed you back.

     He was hesitant at first, as if he wanted to make sure that you wanted this as much as he did. 

     But as you let your lips give him encouragement, he kissed you harder, more intensely.

     He kissed you like he had been waiting years for this moment.

     “Wow,” you breathed, pulling away gently. “That was…different.”

     “Yeah we don’t usually do that,” Spencer agreed and he sounded as breathless as you felt. 

    You both started laughing. 

     “But I’d like to keep doing it,” Spencer added.

     “Yeah,” you smiled at him, “yeah, me too. I guess I owe it to you, you have been obsessed with me for years.”

     “Obsess is a strong word!” Spencer held up his hands in defense. “I prefer unrequited pining.”

     “It might not have been entirely unrequited the whole time,” you confessed, grabbing Spencer’s hand. 

     You heard someone—or, multiple someones—cheering and you turned to find Shayne and Courtney looking in your direction. 

     “Finally!” Courtney shouted, laughing with the small crowd that had gathered around them, witnessing what just happened 

     “Time for all of us to cash in on our office bets,” Shayne said. “Who had 2024?”

     “I sure didn’t,” Amanda said, a few feet away from the bride and groom. “That was not on my 2024 bingo card.”

     She turned to Angela, who didn’t even look her way as she said, “Yeah, you used it right. 

     You laughed, looking at Spencer before turning back to everyone else. “Sorry, this is your wedding and here we are making out!”

     “The more the merrier!” Courtney called.

     “Wait a second, you’re not about to propose though are you?” Spencer asked.   “Because we still have a while before 40.”

     You giggled. “You totally just spoiled it! I didn’t even get to pull out my ‘marry me’ sign.”

     But he was right. You had time. To see where this went, to explore this new relationship. You couldn’t wait.

     You’d known Spencer as a friend, your best friend. And now you’d get to know him as a partner.

     “Bold of you to assume I would say yes,” Spencer answered.

     “You would’ve said yes,” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

     “Not if I beat you to it.” 

     Spencer got down on one knee, grabbing your hand.

     “(Y/n) (Y/l/n), will you make me the happiest man at this reception—barring Shayne—and go out with me?”

     You laughed at the fake proposal. “Yes, Spencer. I will go out with you.”

     He stood up, kissing you softly. 

    “I’ll be expecting another one of those in 10 years,” you said. 

     “I’ll be counting down the days,” Spencer smiled. 

     Amanda walked passed you then, shaking her head as she thought aloud. 

     “First kisses,” she muttered. “Never gets old.”

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh i hope you guys enjoyed this!! like i said, trevor hcs coming soon. watch out for another spencer fic in the works!! 🎀🍒

[inkspiredwriting]

The Mind’s Maze

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Y/N had always known she was different. From a young age, she could sense the emotions of others, feel their thoughts brushing against hers. As she grew older, her abilities became more pronounced, evolving into the power to manipulate consciousness itself. She could delve into minds, influence thoughts, even alter memories. But with great power came great fear—fear of losing control, of unintentionally causing harm.

That’s where Number Five came in. He had experienced his own struggles with his powers, and he understood the burden Y/N carried. They had met during one of Five’s missions, and their connection had been immediate and deep. Now, they were inseparable, and Five was determined to help Y/N master her abilities.

One crisp morning, Five and Y/N stood in the training room of the Umbrella Academy. The room was spacious and bright, filled with various equipment designed to test and hone their unique skills. Y/N looked around, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

“Are you ready?” Five asked, his voice steady and reassuring.

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Five smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Remember, Y/N, the key to controlling your powers is to stay calm and focused. Your mind is a powerful tool, and you need to trust yourself.”

Y/N nodded again, closing her eyes and centering herself. “Okay. What’s first?”

“We’ll start with something simple,” Five said. “I want you to focus on me and try to sense what I’m thinking.”

Y/N took a deep breath and focused on Five. She felt the familiar sensation of her consciousness reaching out, brushing against his mind. It was like dipping her toes into a cool stream, the thoughts and emotions flowing around her. She concentrated, trying to tune into his specific thoughts.

“I can feel you,” she said softly. “You’re thinking about... me. About us.”

Five smiled. “Good. Now, I want you to go a bit deeper. Try to influence my thoughts. Just a small suggestion.”

Y/N hesitated. This was the part that scared her the most—using her powers to change someone’s mind. She didn’t want to hurt Five, didn’t want to overstep her bounds. But she trusted him, and she knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

“Okay,” she said, focusing again. She reached deeper into Five’s mind, feeling the layers of his thoughts. She concentrated on a simple suggestion: “Raise your right hand.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Five’s right hand began to lift. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and relief. She had done it. She had influenced his thoughts without losing control.

“Excellent,” Five said, lowering his hand. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Now let’s try something a bit more challenging.”

They spent the next few hours practicing, with Five guiding Y/N through various exercises. He encouraged her to delve deeper into his mind, to influence more complex thoughts and emotions. Y/N’s confidence grew with each success, her fear gradually giving way to a sense of empowerment.

After a particularly intense session, Five called for a break. They sat together on the floor, leaning against the wall. Y/N was exhausted but exhilarated. She had made more progress in one day than she had in months.

“You’re a natural,” Five said, handing her a bottle of water. “You just needed to believe in yourself.”

Y/N smiled, taking a sip of water. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Five. You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I can do anything.”

Five’s expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand. “You’re stronger than you realize, Y/N. You’ve got an incredible gift, and with time and practice, you’re going to master it.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Thank you, Five. For everything.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Then, Five stood up, extending a hand to help Y/N to her feet.

“Ready for one more exercise?” he asked.

Y/N took his hand, pulling herself up. “Always.”

Five led her to the center of the room, his expression turning serious. “This time, I want you to try something different. I want you to enter my mind fully. See if you can navigate through my memories.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? That’s... that’s pretty invasive.”

“I trust you,” Five said firmly. “And I think you’re ready for it. Just remember to stay calm and focused. I’ll be right here with you.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. She closed her eyes and reached out with her consciousness, delving deeper into Five’s mind than ever before. She felt herself slipping into his memories, seeing flashes of his past.

There were moments of pain and loneliness, scenes of him wandering through the apocalypse, struggling to survive. But there were also moments of joy and love—memories of their time together, the bond they had formed.

As she navigated through his memories, Y/N felt a profound connection to Five. She saw the world through his eyes, understood his struggles and triumphs. It was a deeply intimate experience, one that left her feeling closer to him than ever before.

When she finally pulled back, returning to her own consciousness, she found Five watching her with a look of awe and affection.

“You did it,” he said softly. “You really did it.”

Y/N smiled, tears of relief and happiness in her eyes. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Five. Thank you for trusting me.”

Five pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. “I’ll always trust you, Y/N. You’re stronger and braver than you know.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N felt a sense of peace and confidence she had never known before. With Five by her side, she knew she could face anything. Together, they would navigate the complexities of her powers and the challenges of their lives, stronger and more united than ever.

[murphy-kitt]

Ectoberhaunt Day 1 - Past

Word Count: 1822

AO3

When Jack and Maddie unexpectedly request Alicia take in Danny, she can’t help but worry that there are deeper problems at hand.

Tags: Angst, Slight Injury

—

It was an intervention, they had said. Some time away for him to deal with what had happened. The quiet din of the farm would be better for Danny than the constant clamour of Amity Park.

What has happened, Alicia still doesn’t know.

She sits at the kitchen table, the dogs circling around her feet. It’s only ever been her, Jip and Alec for a while now, at least since her last divorce.

And now Danny should be arriving soon. Of course, she loves her niece and nephew, even if it has been sometime since she’s seen them. The boy, she thinks, was obsessed with space. The girl, intuitive and a bit too in tune with the human psyche.

Alicia sips her coffee, pondering over what could be so bad it forced Maddie to take such a drastic decision. Amity Park and Spittoon aren’t exactly a stones throw away from one another.

There had been an accident of sorts, she remembers. Something to do with that ridiculous laboratory. An electric shock, was it?

But that was nearly a year ago. And Maddie hadn’t sounded half as concerned on the phone about that incident than the current predicament.

Then, she’s taken out of her thoughts by Jip whining, a high pitch that makes her ears ring.

‘Shush, you.’ Alicia scolds, chair scraping the tiled floor as she gets up. The collie dog paces to the door, the sputtering of an engine dying outside.

They’re here. Alicia’s not sure what to expect as she grabs the door handle, yanking it down with extra strength. She’s been too busy to fix that—but now it’ll be backlogged even more with Danny’s arrival.

It’s hard to miss the large tank currently imposing over her tiny house, gadgets arraying green and silver on the roof that she has no clue of.

“Alicia!” That’s the sound of one Jack Fenton leaping out the side of the..thing. Alicia doesn’t miss the clear bags under his eyes, the strain to his voice.

“Do I have to be here?” A sarcastic tone.

Danny is tiny. Alicia nearly topples over in shock, her hand finding the doorframe and feet cementing to the porch stairs. Jip whines, perceptive to the change.

Last time she saw him, a good few years, her nephew had been chatty and incessant about space. He’d always been small, a given since he was born six weeks premature. But this..it’s different.

He’s sickly. Frail. There’s a gauntness to his cheeks, a sharp edge where he was once rounded out with baby fat. His limbs are toothpicks, white needles marred with blemishes and blotches. A bandage twines around Danny’s left arm, clinging on as if it’s holding him together.

His clothes are filthy, torn and stained with green. She remembers Maddie mentioning...ectoplasm, perhaps? But after the accident, she thought Danny would have avoided the lab. At least that’s where she assumes it came from.

“Come in.” Alicia barely stutters through, shoving the door open. “Maddie not with you?”

“No.” Jack's demeanour instantly darkens. He turns to Danny, “I’ll get your things out the car, son. You go in.”

“Fine.” Danny folds his arms, scowling.

Great. Seemingly Danny’s sarcastic phase has set in, just another thing to deal with during this enigmatic stay. How long he’s staying for, Alicia doesn’t actually know. The weekend? Weeks? The whole summer?

They both enter the house, Danny begrudgingly following behind her like a lost puppy. As does Jack, two small duffel bags in his hands.

“Right son, I’ll leave you to it then?” Jack says, moving forward towards Danny, arms outstretched.

“Yeah, dad.” Danny takes a step back, hands in his pockets. Jack falters, the smile disappearing from his face.

“Oh—sorry, Danny. Your arm. I’ll—“

And with that, Jack vacates her small cabin, leaving only her and Danny standing around the table. He’s hunched over, like he’s being scrutinised. Or would rather be anywhere else.

What the hell happened?

—

“You’re in on it, aren’t you?” Is the first thing Danny says to her the next morning.

“What?” Is the only way she can respond as she pours milk into her cereal. Danny regards her, his glare icy.

She’d barely slept last night, ruminating over what could’ve happened. A fall out between Danny and his parents? Had he broken something in the lab, gotten injured?

“Why else would Mom and Dad send me here?” Danny folds his arms, looking down into his bowl of uneaten cereal.

“I don’t know. They thought you needed a break? They’re concerned about you.” An honest answer.

“They haven’t been concerned about me. Care more about the ghosts.” He shoves his chin into his hands, voice muffled so Alicia can barely hear.

She won’t deny Jack and Maddie are…absent as best. But she knows they do care deeply about Danny.

“Is this what it’s about? They’re focused more on their work than caring for you and Jazz?” Alicia asks, feeling the dread pool in her stomach. “Something happened to you and you wished they’d notice?”

Suddenly, the kitchen drops a few degrees.

Although the fire is blasting in the next room over, Jip curled beside, the hairs prick on Alicia’s neck. Tension curdles in her stomach as she watches Danny tense his fists into his hair. Toothpick arms, trembling.

He’s not the same as he was a few years ago. Sure, teenagers are meant to grow, become snappy, but this isn’t sarcasm or wit.

It’s fear.

“Danny,” she reaches forward, despite the trembling in her hands.

His eyes snap up. Icy. Once kind, sweet. Now filled with terror.

“Nothing—nothing happened to me!” He stammers out.

Which means something did.

“I don’t. It wasn’t meant to come out like this. Mom and Dad, they saw me, and I didn’t think. Not all of it, but they saw something. And now Mom won’t talk to me, and now they’re suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Alicia hesitates. Danny has a secret of sorts? That he’s scared of Jack and Maddie knowing. That Maddie refuses to talk to him.

“It was this.” Danny gives her a fleeting look before gesturing to his shoulder, where the bloody bandage is still wrapped. On closer inspection she sees that there’s flecks of green in the bandage. Ectoplasm?

“You got into the lab? That ectoplasm stuff?”

“No, Aunt Alicia.I—I bleed it.”

What. Alicia’s ears ring as she shoves her chair back, the shrill noise echoing throughout the room. Rounding the table, she goes to Danny’s left.

“Can I?” She asks cautiously, gesturing to his arm.

The hesitance is clear in his posture, shoulders hunched by his ears, eyes wide, unblinking (were they always that blue?).

“You really don’t know, do you?” Danny mumbles, realisation seeping into his gaze. “They didn’t bring me here because they wanted you to get info.”

“You think they’d do that?” Alicia responds, trying to repress how appalled she is, both at his parents and his arm. The injury is far unlike anything she’s even seen, and living on a farm brings a range of afflictions.

Green bruises mottle most of the skin, from dark to lighter patches. It’s a burn of sorts, a mixture of green and red like a dated Christmas store.

“How’d you get this?” Alicia asks, as Danny tenses uncomfortably.

“Does it matter?” he deflects. “I’ve been like this for ages now.”

Ah. The green blood. Bleeding ectoplasm. What was a while back?

“Was it..was it your lab accident?” Alicia tenses. Now that she thinks, she can remember the phone call from Maddie, excitedly telling her about their ‘portal’, their life’s work. And then an extra tidbit about Danny having an electric shock, but that he was okay and seemed fine.

What if it had been worse, and Danny hadn’t told his parents?

“What if it was? What if it..changed me?”

”Look, kid. Trauma from that accident doesn’t mean you’ve changed, you’re still the sa—“

”It’s not like that, okay?! Sure, with the amount of psychoanalysis Jazz does on me, we know the accident traumatised me. But it’s not that.” Danny interrupts, twisting on his chair to face her.

Alicia pauses. Lets herself take a step back from Danny and sit back down, breakfast forgotten.

It’s clear this is serious. Alicia hates to think of the implications. Danny was in an accident much more serious than first thought. And not only he his hid it from his parents in fear of them finding out whatever it’s done, but they’ve never noticed.

How long ago was that accident? A year? And her sister and Jack had never noticed anything wrong until whatever had injured Danny had come to their attention?

”Okay, kid. I get it.” She puts her hands up in a placating gesture. If the accident was seriously altering, then it’s not something she wants to go interrogating him about. “How’d you get your wound?”

“What?!” The switch of topic has Danny sputtering, looking down at his arm. He regards her with narrowed eyes. “Why’d you want to know?”

”So I can re-bandage it. Is it a burn?” She gets up from the chair, opening the drawer besides the sink. Suddenly, Jip and Alec burst through the kitchen door, tails wagging.

”It’s not treats, you silly pair!” The dogs curiously nudge at Alicia’s legs as she approaches back to Danny, bandages and burn cream at hand.

”Yeah, a burn. Ectogun.”

”An ectogun. Isn’t that your pa—?”

”Yup.” Danny licks his lips, looking away, as if he’s considering something. “They didn’t know it was me.”

What?

”They shot you?!” This time, there’s no hiding the horror in her voice. This has to be a mistake. An awful, horrible accident. Maddie and Jack wouldn’t shoot Danny deliberately, they couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Maybe they hadn’t seen him? Out ghost hunting and he’d got caught in the fray?

”Yeah…” Danny replies. “The accident, when I say it changed me..I look different?”

”What, you’re a ghost?” Alicia scoffs. Maybe it’s her mind trying to find reprieve in the absolute bombshell, to try and find humour.

Then she sees the trembling hands, the frozen posture. Temperature of the room dropped. Jip and Alec pacing, ears pinned back, needle-focused on Danny.

”You—y’know that one Mom goes on about?” Danny’s breath hitches, his eyes bleary, “The one she’s got a real hatred for, the one she wants to dissect?”

She can’t forget. Phantom. News channels have never reached Spittoon with ghost news, but there’s no need, since Maddie likes to update her.

How Phantom is evil, the terror of Amity Park. Yet how he’s different, somehow more complex and never sticks to a routine like the others—how she’d love to capture him.

’That ghost terrorises us, Lise. The day me and Jack capture it, imagine the breakthroughs we’d have. The research potential!”

Phantom, the ghost Maddie wants to experiment on.

Phantom, the ghost that is Danny.

Alicia feels sick.

[vnards]

Bear!Price pt 6

Price made light conversation during the ride to his place. He tries to ignore that itch under his skin to touch you. But he keeps things polite. He’s stays gentle with you.

He pulls up to his den house and turns off the car. He hoped you like the place. We’ll change whatever you want. Price tried to breathe through his nose and keep his focus. He counted to three before he got out the car.

“I like your place.”

John put his hands in his pockets to distract himself from rumbling happily, “I’ve been fixing it up a bit since I’ve moved up here.”

You looked back at him and smiled, “It’s nice.” Price was fucked.

“We should start our lesson.” He saw you beginning to stretch and get your hair out of your face. He could of swore you were doing it on purpose, but he couldn’t call you out on it. So he tried to look as politely as possible.

John walked to the porch of the house and took his jacket off. He felt eyes on his back and he tried not to preen under your attention like he did a few days ago. But this time was different. This time his purpose is to teach you to fight. Just in case.

“First things first,” He walked back over to you, rolling up his sleeves, “If anything happens where you feel unsafe, you call me.”

Your forehead creased, “Call you?”

He gives a firm nod, “Absolutely.” You must have saw how serious he was about this; about your safety. You showed you understood, your playful manner dropped for the moment. “If you ever feeling in trouble, I’ll take care of you.” That was more of a promise than he could ever mean.

There was a moment between you, a silent acceptance.

Price smiled, content and pleased. You followed suit. “Now,” He changes the subject and steps back, preparing his stance, “Show me what you got.” He teased.

Your smile turned devilish and a spark of adrenaline shot through Price unexpectedly. His vision became focused and fully on you.

You ready your own stance, much different than his, but he’ll correct that later. He spots your hand, noting the way you are about to throw that punch, uneven and unsteady. You swing and he feigns easily. “You gotta try better than that, sweetheart.”

Your smile becomes devilish as you try again. This time, your punch was faster, held more weight behind it. “Good girl. Again” He doesn’t think as he praises you, but your cheeks still tinge with color.

The next time you throw a punch, you connect it with a combo. If Price hadn’t ducked, you may have landed your strike. I smile in triumph as you notice his delightful surprise.

“My girl’s got some bite to her, huh?” Price taunts, dropping his guard for you. “Give me what you got.”

You accept the challenge with stride, going for a left fake-out combined with a low right, aiming for the body. She knows how to attack. Price’s breathing gets heavier the more you force him to dodge. He can’t deny the burst of energy that burns through him. He notices his senses becoming clear and in-tuned to you. A quick glance down to his knuckles, lets him know he still has his usual fingers, furless. Good.

You take advantage of his distraction, almost catching him off guard as you go for a body shot. You were fast. Price was faster. He was able to grab your wrists and bring you closer, pinning your hands to his chest. You smelled so much better up close. “Cheeky, I see.”

You shrug as you tilt your head up to look at him. “I’m a fast learner.”

Price tries to keep his cool and lets go of you, letting you step away and reset. The space between you both lets him breathe fresh air for a second before you notice how you’ve affected him. “The one thing you’ll learn from me is to fix your stance.” When you look down, Price pushes your shoulder and you stumble. “Your center of gravity is off.” He places his hand on your side to keep you upright. “If you’re gonna attack you need to know your defense is strong.”

You nod, giving him your full attention. Those eyes had him trapped. But, he stepped back, trying to remember this lesson is for you, not him. He almost could see you deflate before he continued, “Get back in your stance.” You do as instructed.

John takes in your stance again, this time beginning to circle to evaluate. You feel like you’re on display, a predator sizing up their prey. Price notices the shift, “You can relax, deer.” And you listen beautifully.

Price is pleased when you become more confident in your stance. “Good girl.”

<-previous part

masterlist ->

[newtgf]

hey I was wondering if you could write some sort of next x reader where they both like eachother and the other doesn’t know, maybe a new boy comes up and newt gets jealous? x

CAN’T HIDE MY LOVE | NEWT X READER

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

summary: you and Newt have been good friends since the first day you came up from the box, but you couldn’t hide the obvious flirt and jokes around the two of you, embarrassed to actually admit that are in love, living without actually knowing. One day, like every month, a new guy comes up in the maze and you two seems to get along together really well but you notice that something is changing in Newt’s behavior.

warnings: nothing if not a little bit of angst and obviously fluff.

a/n: i really love this and thank you so so much for the request! I’ll try to do my best! (this is my first request hope you’ll enjoy).

a/n 2: i just finished writing this and it came out a little angst hope you won’t mind!!

p.s. I received another request much similar to this one but with Gally! Currently working on it so stay tuned!!

°❀⋆. ೃ࿔*: °❀⋆. ೃ࿔*: °❀⋆. ೃ࿔*: °❀⋆. ೃ࿔*: °❀⋆. ೃ࿔*:

You were relaxing, leaning your back on a tree trunk as you looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, the breeze of the maze was brushing your hair from your face. Your thoughts cut off as you heard a voice talking to you.

“Mh? sorry i didn’t catch that” you said, lifting your body up as you looked at Newt, standing in front of you with a big ass machete in his hand.

“I said that a hand here would be much appreciated” Newt repeated as he kept looking at you with a smug expression.

“doing what? you lost your bet and now it’s your turn chopping off those tree roots.. silly” you immediately replied crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“fuck off that bloody bet, come on y/n.. you can’t actually believe you were gonna stand there doing nothing if not looking at me doing all the job here” He looked at you once again, this time getting closer to you.

“Well i think it’s kinda entertaining” you chuckled at him, the sun making you close your eyes a little as you looked up to look at Newt. “I feel like a princess watching his serve” you added proudly.

“you already are a princess y/n” He smiled softly as he offers his hand in front of you, helping you getting up.

You chuckled once again “Yea? You mean princess of dirty clothes and trunks-” You mumbled in a joking manner as he handed you another machete.

Newt chuckles too before nudging you jokingly “I can be your Prince if you don’t mind- but i have to admit being your serve could’ve been quite interesting” he grins.

Your cheeks were now of a pinkish color as you looked down a little nervous for what he just said.

“If you ins-“ You were about to say something but the voices of the other gladers interrupted you. The both of you looked around as a loud sound came from the center of the glade, it was an odd familiar sound. The box.

You all were standing there around the box, Alby was holding by his arm a new boy, and like everyone during their first day, he looked confused and disorientated.

“Welcome greenie, I’m Alby, I’m the leader here” Alby’s voice was reassuring. “and this… this is the glade, and from now on we are your family” He added before looking at you.

“Do you mind showing him around? I have something to discuss with Gally and Newt so i’ll leave him to you alright?”

You nodded, you were kinda surprised but excited at the same time, Newt gave you a little smile as he glanced at the greenie with a gulp before walking away with the others.

You cleared your throat “Well uhm- I’m y/n and what you see around us, it’s the glade- like Alby just said” you smiled

“glade-? what is this place, w-why am i here?” He looked around before looking at you again with lost.

“honestly i don’t know much either… we should ask to the bastards that decided to put us here” You chuckled as you looked down.

“The only thing you’ll remember is your name- i remembered it after a few days but..it’s different for everyone” You shrugged.

You had to admit he was quite cute, not your exactly type but he was an enjoyable person, with a funny personality.

The both of you kept walking around the glade for a couple of hours, showing him all the places as he already felt like this was now his family.

After you returned to the others, you decided to rest before the night, a new greenie arrived and that only meant that we were going to celebrate.

Skiptime

You woke up at the sound of people laughing and celebrating the arrival of the new greenie as you noticed that they already started without you. After fixing your hair a little you went to join the others.

“Y/n finally!!” Alby smiled at you, he was with Thomas, the new greenie and Newt. You smiled. “We were exactly talking about you! and here you are” Alby chuckled.

“Yea- it’s seems like you’ve impressed someone” Newt rolled his eyes with a sigh, glancing at the greenie before walking away.

You gulped and looked at him from afar “What is wrong with him today? I barely saw him if not this morning..” you looked at the others.

Alby shrugged before looking at Thomas “He’s just-“ he stopped before looking around “you should talk to him” he said.

“I won’t if he’s acting like this” you scoffed at him before taking the greenie by the arm and walked away. “So how you feeling? Met everyone?” The two of you started talking again.

You spent all night with him, laughing and drinking, but you couldn’t hide the fact that you were thinking about Newt, searching for him with your gaze all night, but couldn’t find him anywhere. It was ruining your night.

The two of you were now sitting next to the others, the light of a big campfire lighting up the center of the glade.

“I’ll go to sleep” you cleared your throat, getting up from sitting on the ground with the new boy.

“Already?” he immediately asked. “I don’t- i don’t feel well” you sighed as you looked around, still hoping to see Newt somewhere. But he wasn’t here.

“I’ll come with you then, there’s no fun without you.” He grabbed you by your arm.

“I-“ you looked at his hand grabbing your arm before moving aside. “I’m sorry I wanna spend some time alone, you should talk to the others, they all funny”

After that you walked away, looking for Newt, and finally you saw him laughing with Minho and Thomas sitting on their hammocks.

You really wanted to come talk to him about what happened earlier but something stopped you.

Maybe because he looked normal now, or because after all you were scared to talk to him.

You gulped before shaking your head and taking a deep breath, you looked at him once again before noticing he was looking at you too. Your heart skipped a beat. Why were you feeling like that?

You kept the eye contact for a few seconds before he suddenly sighed and looked away. Mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

You were standing alone in the gaze, didn’t want to go to sleep now since your hammock was next to them, what were you supposed to do now?

You sighed as the glades breeze started to feel a bit colder than usual. You started walking to your usual spot, where you and Newt would sit next to a trunk and talk for hours.

“you okay?” you heard the greenie’s voice in the back. Did he followed me?

“God you scared me” you sighed with a smile as you looked up at him.

“Sorry- i was worried” he sat next to you.

You looked at him, sitting where Newt usually sit, a feeling of guilt was now increasing inside of you.

“I’m fine. I just want to sleep now” you replied back, snuggling up in your arms.

“You’re sleeping here?” he looked at you, his tone a little confused.

“Yes, it’s my favorite place. It’s not the first time” you mumbled. “Sorry if I sound rude but I wanna sleep alone” you added.

“Of course- then.. i’ll go away once you fall asleep” the greenie said softly before you actually fell asleep after some minutes of silence.

Skiptime

The next morning you woke up alone, you looked around as you realized where you fell asleep yesterday night. You yawned as you moved the blanket that was covering your body, and then you realized. A blanket?

“I didn’t have a blanket with me yesterday night” you mumbled to yourself, confused you stroke your eyes and got up, holding the blanket with you as you were about to bring it back to someone.

You started thinking. The greenie was with me last night but Newt is the only one that knows that place not counting me and him. It could’ve been him. And yet again you felt your heart skipping a beat, it was almost a day that the two of you stopped talking, not even knowing why though.

You missed him.

You took another long deep breath, trying to not thinking about it as you started walking around the glade, when you saw Chuck waking up when he heard you.

“Sorry Chucks, didn’t mean to wake you up” you said while putting down the blanket on your hammock, giving him a little smile.

“Don’t worry y/n i had to wake up anyway” he looked at you before clearing his throat. “So..You spent the night with Newt?” he asked with a chuckle.

“What? no!” you blushed immediately, why he asked that? you gulped.

“Why? Did he told you something?” you sat in front of him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No- I just heard him talking about you with the others, and since the both of you weren’t here last night…” he looked around, swinging his legs around sitting on his hammock.

“He wasn’t with me” you immediately replied. “I fell asleep somewhere in the glade after the celebration” you added.

“But that’s Newt’s blanket” he looked at the blanket you just brought here.

“What” your eyebrows relaxed in a realization way. You stayed silent for a while.

“Whatever happened between you two, fix it.” he said seriously. “Don’t tell me anything happened cause i know when something’s wrong and y/n-”

He stopped talking before looking at you. “I know you like him, it’s obvious” your cheeks becoming red for every word he was saying. You stayed silent and decided to not speak.

“Talking of the devil..” Chuck looked at you, he nudging you before walking away. You looked up and saw Newt coming to your direction. You gulped and felt a shiver of nervousness down your spine.

“Where have you been tonight?” he immediately asked, he sounded mad but you could feel a bit of worry in his voice.

“Not even saying hi” you mumbled, looking away. He ignored me yesterday and now he’s worrying about me? And i’m the one who need to fix whatever is happening? absolutely not.

He stayed silent.

I looked up at him, “Why you asking if you already know? I was at our spot, you brought me a blanket” you said almost proud of yourself.

He stopped doing what he was doing and locked his eyes on you.

“Yea i was looking for you, but then i saw that you were at our spot with your new friend” he kept looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I- He followed me!” you immediately said. He didn’t seem to be interested in what you were saying though.

“So i came back later and you were alone! sleeping in the cold and that’s why i brought you a blanket!” he yelled looking at you up and down.

“He followed me Newt! I didn’t mean to show him our place!” you said, this time louder.

“Oh yeah of course” he rolled his eyes “Then- sorry my fault” he said sarcastically as he cleared his throat.

“What is happening to you? You are seeing things that aren’t happening!” you snatched back, grabbing his arm.

He looked at you again, you could feel that something was wrong, his eyes a little swollen.

“He said you told him you weren’t feeling well and he decided to check on you” he stopped for a second. “He told me to go away cause everything was going great”

He kept looking at you. “He told me to go away from our spot y/n!”

You looked down, not realizing what actually happened. You two stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Well at least he followed me and decided to check on me, while you didn’t” you looked up at him.

“You saw me. We looked at each other while i was coming here, you even said something. But still- you stayed there. If you really wanted to check on me you could’ve come, but you did not”

“I did” he snatched back.

“It was too late” you added as you took his blanket that was next to you and threw it to him. “And you can keep it!” you yelled before walking away.

While you were walking away you felt your eyes watering, your breath becoming shorter as you immediately felt guilty for everything you said. Buy you were so confused at the same time. I know i overreacted but why did he ignore me like that yesterday?

You decided to take a break, to not think about it all. Everything is going to be okay anyway, with or without Newt. You took a deep breath as your daily routine finally started like every other day.

Skiptime

It’s been 4 days since the last time you spoke to Newt. You caught him looking at you every now and then, especially when you were with the new boy. You two were always silent though, acting like you don’t even know each other, but it was terrible. Deep down you missed him, you missed him so much that it was hurting.

That night you were going at your spot, you decided to not come back there after what happened, but you needed some time for yourself.

When you arrived, Newt was sitting there in silent, throwing little rocks away while thinking to himself.

You took a deep breath before getting closer. He looked up at you and stayed silent.

“Can i?” you asked him before sitting.

“There’s no sign saying that you’re not allowed to stay here” he replied, looking away.

You sat there, the silence was loud but you missed him, you missed this. Staying in silent here while appreciating the presence of yourselves. Then you finally decided to speak.

“So.. wanna talk about it?” you looked around. “About what?” he mumbled. “You know” you nudged him. He sighed without replying.

“Stop ignoring me Newt!” he looked at you.

“Me? Ignoring you? You’ve spending an awful lot of time with.. him- completely forgetting about my existence!” he gulped, looking at you dead in the eyes.

“I didn’t forget about you! Come on you’re overreacting now” you wrapped your arms around your legs.

“You obviously don’t understand. You keep not understanding” he mumbled.

“Understand what?”

He ignored you.

You grabbed his arm and shook it. “Newt!”

“Everything! Can’t you see the way he looks at you? The flirting? The way he’s always next to you everywhere you go!” he almost yelled at you.

You looked at him, mouth a little open as you didn’t know what to say.

“He’s not- Wait what…- Are you jealous?” you mumbled the last words.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red a little as he heard what you said.

“I’m not jealous” Newt mumbled. “It’s just not fair, you’re giving him all the attention you used to give to me!” he finally looked at you again.

“I- I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking” You said softly, slowly rubbing your thumb on his arm.

He took a deep breath. “Y/n come on.. you’re literally blind” he smiled to himself.

You looked at him, tilting your head to the side “Blind?” you repeated.

“This is not how imagined this but… i like you y/n i really do” his eyes softened while talking, looking at your eyes waiting for a reaction.

You gulped, your heart beating more than fast. “Wait- Newt what-“ you couldn’t think straight right now. You kept looking at him as your cheeks turned red, you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

You turned your whole body around, facing him. “Why didn’t you told me..” you whispered. His eyes moving from on of your eyes to another.

“I was scared, mad, everything.. especially jealous” he said softly, slowly placing his right hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb on your jawline.

You looked at him, your eyes glancing at his lips for a second. “I think i like you too” you mumbled.

His lips curving into a little smile before getting closer to you, gently pulling you from your chin into a kiss. A slow kiss.

After some seconds you looked at him, he was smiling like a baby. “You don’t know how much i wanted to do this” he mumbled.

You chuckled before kissing him again, your fingers brushing his hair as you pulled him closer to you.

“Do you wanna come back?” you mumbled to him. “Can’t we spend the night here?” he smiled. “I think we could” you chuckled before he wrapped his arms around you.

[suraemoon]

Rosie Rosenthal Headcanons

~Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal Edition ~

🌹: Hi, Mrs. Rosenthal. Hope you’re doing well. How’s the hubby? These are some Rosie x Reader cute and domestic headcanons that cover some tiny details that make married life even more special

♥️: Fluffy fluff. If you’re feeling horny, stay to the end and I’ll help you, doll. Thats really it. Hope u enjoy.

Humming. He hums softly during the most comfortable silences, making them even more cozy. You could be reading a book on a quiet May afternoon, watching him work at his desk on a cold January night, holding hands while watching the August sunset from your balcony.

Whenever you’re singing a tune, he’s going to hum along with you

Can’t remember the name of that one Ella Fitzgerald song for the life of you? Hum it together until a namesake lyric pops into one of your brilliant minds. Followed by a “Ohhhh, you’re right. It is that one!”

A comfortable hum during the times when you’re crying on his shoulder, his hand rubbing your back in small circles, your cheek against the fabric of his grandpa sweater

Rosie’s blue eyes have always been one of your favorite features of his.

They are as vibrant as technicolor, always displaying so much emotion.

Looking into Rosie’s eyes is a constant reminder that as long as you have him, life will never again be sepia toned.

Rosie spoils you in the most nonchalant ways. Buying his wife a gift is never made into its own big event.

He notices how you eye a certain sparkling necklace while walking hand in hand by the jewelry store window? The next day, those same diamonds are lying on your vanity, waiting to be worn.

For some reason the flowers in the vase on the dining room table never seem to die? Hmm I wonder why.

Little do you know, those roses were replaced with fresh ones last night

Rosie buys beautiful bouquets of flowers as pink as his wife’s cheeks on a chilly day

Hides them in places you’d never look until the sun goes down to rest for the night and you are securely fast asleep next to him

As soft light floods through the windows in the morning, the glass of the vase creates a rainbow and the flowers sitting delicately on display look new as ever

Another small detail that your home would like an incomplete puzzle without?

Him and Hers plaid robes hang gently on delicate hooks behind the bathroom door

Technically, both robes were bought and owned by Rosie before he even met you

But they’re so damn comfy that they’ve become happily coparented between the two of you

Whenever your choice of robe starts to lose the distinct and comforting scent of your beloved husband, the two of you switch in order to replenish

A constant cycle of robe wearing

The record player is the most used and well loved item in the household

Soft jazz fills warmly lit rooms

Not much of a dancer are you? Rosie insists that the two of you slow dance to his favorite love song anyway

Don’t worry, it is not a game of skill. Maybe he hits a silly dance move now and then to distract you from the worry of accidentally stepping on his feet.

He spins you around like Prince Charming does Cinderella until both the rotating and romance makes you a little lightheaded.

He also loves a good candle. (Don’t we all?)

Not only for when he is trying to set the right mood for homemade dates at the kitchen table and nights full of lovemaking in your bedroom

but also to further enhance the warm and comforting atmosphere that fills any room that his love steps into

Cuddling in eachother’s warmth where the cold evening air of the bustling city outside cannot touch you

What else sometimes happens while you two lying in bed on a weeknight? Gossip.

It’s a safe space to talk about anyone or anything

When your little ones start school and the two of you join the PTA, the reason being not because you want to but instead having the “new parent” fear you were the only ones not in it. Do you regret it? No. The tea is unexpectedly piping hot.

“Remember how late we stayed up making those cookies after finding that bake sale flier at the bottom of her bookbag? Today, the Joneses went on and on about how they had a family recipe. Guess what?…their brownie container had a price tag, Rosie.”

Maybe a family member said something utterly ridiculous at the family reunion that you aren’t able to talk about until you’re in the comfort of your own walls

Something that even has Rosie uttering “Now if I was his wife…” or “I don’t know about his mother but if my mother caught me doing that…”

A lot of “I can’t believe that happened” head shakes

A lot of “You were right about that, honey” nods in agreement

Rosie also takes the time to tell you about his cases. Him and his co-workers always act so professional but sometimes you need an outside opinion to confirm how ridiculous some people are.

That outside opinion is Mrs. Rosenthal sitting on the bed stirring a cup of cocoa

Speaking of drinks, Rosie likes his coffee black

You learn that the morning after you spend your first night at his

What else do you learn after that riveting first night? Your man fancies a bath. A warm bath after sex is only part of his phenomenal aftercare routine.

He puts oils into the water, massages your sore thighs, and wraps you in a comfy soft robe when you get out

You two don’t argue often but when you do? You hate to admit it but Rosie is usually right

Even when he isn’t right, he has you second guessing yourself because…he’s a lawyer and being a good arguer is part of the job description

He’s a “I need to get the last word in” kind of person, even if it’s just a snarky or sarcastic comment

You two always make up though!

Make up, makeout, and make love is always the order

My last thot for today…dad jokes

If Rosie is going to do one thing, it’s make you laugh

He’s goes out of his way to see your pretty smile as much as he can

Your sweet giggles can easily compete and win against the sparkling sound of wind chimes

Your laugh is as melodic as his favorite song. It *is* his favorite song.

He’s so good at dad jokes, you have to make him a father. That’s good logic, hm? I definitely think so.

They’re purposefully bad and cheesy. So unfunny that they’re funny and trying to hold in the laugh always fails.

Your husband’s a dork and you love him that way

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! If you’re like “Excuse me ma’am, wheres the smut?” I know where to redirect you. All my dirty thots went towards my friend Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) lovely post about Rosie. It’s so chef’s kiss. 110% recommend. xxxx 💋