#ignore that his head is a little too small

[be4chywritez]

sweet like honey | max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader

"you're to sweet for me."

Max doesn't like how nice you are towards him.

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Max isn't sure why he doesn’t like you. You’ve never wronged him, never talked bad about him, or been rude in any way. But for some odd reason, Max hates you.

Maybe it’s the Verstappen genes kicking in, that innate tendency to be an asshole. Or maybe it’s bred into him to keep sweet things like you at a distance. So, you can imagine his shock and horror when he sees you perched on the couch, flipping through a book in his friend’s Italian villa.

Your eyes meet his, and a smile graces your lips. You place the book in your lap, and he watches as your eyes brighten at the sight of him, the same way they might light up at the sight of a pretty flower.

Your small yellow sundress barely covers your upper thighs, and Max can’t help but stare before quickly looking down at his phone, not wanting to be too obvious about his boyish gawking.

“Max,” you say softly, your voice warm and rich like honey, drawing his attention whether he wants it or not.

He hears you, of course, but pretends to focus on his phone. His thumb moves slowly over the screen, though nothing he sees holds his interest. It’s the way you say his name that sticks in his mind, making it impossible to ignore.

“It’s nice to see you,” you continue, your tone sincere as if you mean it more than you should. You settle back into the cushions, your dress slipping a little higher on your thighs, and he catches himself glancing before looking away again.

Max lets out a quiet huff, his eyes still fixed on his phone, but his attention is all on you now. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he murmurs, his voice lower than usual, almost guarded.

You shift, crossing your legs under you, the air feeling warmer, closer. “A surprise, I guess,” you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips, the kind that lingers, soft and effortless.

Max clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look back at his phone. Still, he’s hyper-aware of your presence, of the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the room. He swallows hard, trying to steady himself, even as his chest tightens.

“Yeah,” he mutters, almost under his breath, like he’s afraid to say anything else, and you let the moment settle, content with the quiet between you.

Just then, his best friend Jamie stumbles in, holding a glass of chardonnay. “Maxie,” he coos, squishing Max’s cheeks together, making his lips pucker. Close behind comes your best friend, Mila—Jamie’s girlfriend.

A few others join the group, a mix of Jamie and Mila’s friends, and Max’s brow furrows as he realizes that they’re all couples. He internally groans, watching your eyes flit around like a lost puppy.

“Alright, everyone,” Mila announces with a clap of her hands, “time to head up. We’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow.”

One by one, the group starts dispersing, grabbing their things and heading upstairs. Max lingers, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, but he’s acutely aware of you standing up from the couch, smoothing down the hem of your dress.

You move with an easy grace, slipping past him with a soft, “Goodnight, Max.” There’s no sarcasm, no bite—just genuine kindness that he doesn’t understand. You flash him a small smile before heading toward the stairs.

Max’s jaw tightens as he watches you go. You’re far too calm, far too kind for his liking. It makes him uncomfortable, like you’re holding a mirror up to the way he behaves, forcing him to see the stark contrast between you.

He takes a deep breath, tucking his phone into his pocket, and follows behind the group. The villa is beautiful, the soft glow of the lights casting long shadows across the walls as everyone makes their way to their respective rooms. His room is at the far end of the hall, and as he reaches it, he notices you standing just outside the door next to his.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” you say lightly, your voice warm and soft. You hold your toothbrush and a towel, your yellow sundress replaced by pale pink silky pajamas, and there’s something almost disarming about how comfortable you seem.

Max nods, his expression neutral. “Yeah.”

You don’t push the conversation, only smile again as you step into your room. “Sleep well, Max,” you say over your shoulder, as if you mean it.

He huffs quietly, more out of habit than frustration, and slips into his own room. The door closes with a soft click, and he leans back against it, rubbing a hand over his face.

For a moment, he stands there, in the silence of the room, staring at nothing in particular. He doesn’t know why your kindness unsettles him so much. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, but that’s exactly the problem. You’re too nice. Too understanding. And for some reason, it gets under his skin.

Max changes into a T-shirt and shorts, moving about the room on autopilot. He keeps hearing your voice, soft and sweet, lingering in his thoughts.

Finally, he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, trying to shut everything out. But it’s quiet now—too quiet. And even though you’re just on the other side of the wall, he can’t stop thinking about you.

In the middle of the night, he’s still awake, tossing and turning, when there’s a soft knock on his door. Max sits up, frowning slightly, wondering who it could be at this hour.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads across the room, opening the door just a crack. It’s you, standing there, a little sheepish, your arms crossed lightly over your chest.

“Sorry,” you whisper, barely audible, “I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just… my room's really hot. I think the AC is broken.”

Max blinks, unsure of what to say at first. Part of him wants to tell you to deal with it yourself, but another part of him can’t ignore it.

His eyes linger on you more than he’d admit—your hair sticking to your neck from sweat, your cheeks flushed, and you nibble your lip nervously. Your tank top has ridden up, a sliver of your hip exposed, and Max does everything in his power to push those thoughts away.

“Uh… you could just crack open a window,” he suggests, his voice a bit rough from sleep. He knows the words sound hollow even to him. He doesn’t want you in his space, yet part of him doesn’t want you sweating alone either.

You fidget slightly, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I tried, but it didn’t help. I just thought… maybe I could crash in here?” The words hang in the air, hopeful yet tentative.

Max’s heart races at the idea. The prospect of sharing the bed makes his palms sweat. It’s one thing to be in the same room, but sharing a bed? He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighs his options.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s a hint of something deeper in his tone. The image of you curled up beside him—too close for comfort—sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you offer a nervous smile, clearly not wanting to invade his space, so you back away, ducking into your room. He watches you until the door is shut behind you.

Max stands in the doorway, his heart racing as he processes the moment. He’s not sure why he feels such a strong urge to call you back, to insist that it’s okay, but the words remain stuck in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of irritation and something else—something he’s not ready to name.

As he paces back to his bed, he tries to shake off the lingering image of you standing there, your flushed cheeks and nervous smile. He lies down again, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you’re just a wall away.

A few moments pass before he hears a soft, muffled noise from your room—a sniffle, maybe? It makes his chest tighten at the thought of you crying because you're uncomfortable.

“Damn it,” he mutters to himself, tossing an arm over his eyes. He’s not going to sleep if he keeps thinking about you like this.

After what feels like an eternity of tossing and turning, he finally sits up, his decision made. He stands up, his heart pounding in his chest, and makes his way to your door. He raises his hand to knock but hesitates, uncertainty flooding in.

“Why the hell am I doing this?” he mutters, his self-doubt creeping back in. But the thought of you feeling uncomfortable alone is enough to push him through. He knocks softly, the sound barely more than a tap.

“Hey,” you call from inside, and he can hear the surprise in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replies, his voice worse than he intended. “I… just thought maybe you could come back. It’s probably not that hot here.”

There’s a brief silence, and he can imagine the look on your face—surprised and perhaps a little hopeful. “Really?” you ask, and he can’t help the slight smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

The door swings open, revealing you still in your silk-clad pajamas. He rips his gaze away, feeling a tightness in his throat. He doesn't utter a word, just turns around, walking to his room. He can hear your feet padding behind him, and you close the door behind the both of you.

Max keeps his back to you as you quietly follow him into the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The air feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension as you stand there in the dim light, waiting for him to say something. But Max doesn’t. Instead, he heads straight for the bed, pulling back the covers on one side, his movements stiff and a little too deliberate.

“You can take the right side,” he mutters, not looking at you, as he slides under the covers on the left. His heart is pounding, though he tries to act like everything is fine.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to thank him or just keep quiet. Deciding not to push it, you simply nod, even though he isn’t looking at you. You cross the room and slip into the bed beside him, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he can feel the same tension thrumming between you that you do. The bed feels impossibly small now, the space between you a thin sliver of air that crackles with awkwardness.

You lie still, facing away from him, but you can feel his presence—so close and yet so distant. The sound of his steady breathing fills the room, and you wonder if he’s doing the same as you, staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep.

Minutes stretch on, and the silence between you is deafening. Every creak of the bed, every shift in the sheets seems louder in the stillness of the night. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice so soft it barely breaks the silence. You don’t expect a reply, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your own breathing.

Then, finally, Max shifts slightly beside you. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles, his voice low and rough, but there’s something different in it now. Something that isn’t as cold as before.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Maybe he isn’t as indifferent as he wants you to think. You curl up a little more, trying to make yourself comfortable, even as the tension lingers in the air between you.

As the night drags on, you begin to drift in and out of sleep. The heat from the earlier part of the night is gone now, replaced by a cooler breeze that drifts in through the open window. The sheets are soft, and for the first time since you entered Max’s room, you start to relax.

Just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you feel something shift again. Max turns slightly, the mattress dipping as he moves closer—just barely, but enough for you to notice. His arm brushes against yours, and the warmth of his skin sends a small jolt through you.

You stay perfectly still, wondering if he did it on purpose or if he’s just restless. Either way, you don’t move, afraid to disturb the delicate balance between you.

Your mind races—what if you roll over onto him in your sleep? What if you start snoring?—and the nerves bubble up, spilling out before you can stop yourself.

“So… I haven’t slept in a guy’s bed in ages,” you blurt out, staring at the ceiling. Max barely reacts, his only acknowledgment a low, noncommittal “Mhm,” but it doesn’t stop you from talking.

“Yeah, it’s been, like… a long time. I’m more of a 'sleep with a thousand pillows' kind of person, you know? Gotta have the right setup.” You laugh a little, mostly to yourself, feeling the need to fill the quiet. Max doesn’t respond, but you keep going, too nervous to stop. “Oh, and I’m really bad with directions, like, I get lost in grocery stores. Once, I ended up in the freezer aisle for thirty minutes just trying to find the cereal.”

“Mhm.”

His replies are half-hearted at best, but you don’t mind. If anything, the sound of his quiet indifference weirdly helps soothe your nerves.

“Oh! And I can’t swim,” you say with a laugh, thinking it’s just another random fact to throw out there. But this time, Max’s head snaps toward you.

“You came to the amalfi coast, and you can’t swim?” he asks, his voice sharper than before, with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow slightly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” you reply, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Figured I’d just, you know… stay on the shore.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”

“Maybe,” you say, laughing softly, your nerves easing a bit. “But I’m good at other things. Like… did you know I can recite the entire script of Finding Nemo? Well, mostly.”

Max rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Great skill.”

You keep talking, the words flowing easier now. Your voice fills the room, soft and rhythmic, and even though Max doesn’t say much, you can feel the tension in the air start to shift. His body relaxes slightly, the space between you feeling a little less awkward.

“And another thing, I’m a terrible cook. Burnt spaghetti once. Didn’t even think that was possible. It’s water and noodles, right?” You laugh again, and this time Max lets out a quiet huff—almost like a chuckle, though he’d never admit it.

Your voice is like a steady hum, lulling the room into a gentle calm. You talk about everything and nothing, the words spilling out in a quiet stream. Max listens, his responses becoming softer, almost inaudible, but it doesn’t matter. His breathing slows, his eyes fluttering shut as your voice washes over him.

You don’t notice when he finally drifts off, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. But somehow, you feel it—the way the energy in the room has shifted, his earlier sharpness melted away into something softer, more relaxed.

The next morning, sunlight spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stir first, the warmth of the bed enveloping you, your body reluctant to wake. For a moment, you forget where you are, and then it hits you—Max’s bed, Max’s room. You blink your eyes open slowly, turning your head slightly to see him still there, asleep.

He’s lying on his back now, the sheets tangled around his waist, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath. His face is serene, the harsh lines you’ve come to associate with him softened by sleep. His hair is slightly tousled, giving him an almost boyish look, something so different from the hard-edged man who usually glares at you.

You feel a strange flutter in your chest as you look at him, this version of Max—unguarded, vulnerable. It’s a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it’s almost too intimate, too close. You shift a little, trying not to make any noise, but the bed creaks softly under your weight.

Max stirs, his brows furrowing slightly as he slowly wakes up. His eyes open halfway, still hazy with sleep, and for a brief moment, he looks at you without the usual edge in his gaze. It’s like he’s forgotten for a second who you are, where he is.

Then, reality seems to settle back in, and his eyes narrow ever so slightly, though there’s no real malice there. Just a kind of gruff annoyance.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice rough and low, thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply softly, offering a tentative smile.

He shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows, the sheet falling further down his waist, revealing more of his toned torso. You can’t help but glance, quickly averting your eyes when you realize you’re staring.

Max runs a hand through his messy hair, yawning as he glances at you. “You talk a lot in your sleep too, or is that just when you’re awake?” he asks, a hint of that familiar sarcasm creeping back into his tone, though there’s no real bite behind it.

You chuckle lightly, relaxing a little. “Only when I’m awake, I promise.”

He grunts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence between you less awkward than you would’ve expected. It’s almost… comfortable.

Max stretches, his muscles flexing slightly as he does, and you try not to let your eyes linger too long. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t seem to notice.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “how’d you sleep?”

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, almost begrudgingly, “Didn’t mind all the talking.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, the small admission catching you off guard. You smile, warmth spreading through you. “Glad to know I didn’t annoy you too much.”

Max doesn’t respond, just grabs his phone from the nightstand and checks the time. But you catch the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he turns away.

He stands, pulling on a shirt and running a hand through his hair again before heading toward the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast soon,” he mutters. “Don’t take too long.”

He steps out before poking his head back in his face serious, “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he says gesturing a finger around towards you and him, right asshole Max is alive and well.

“Right.” you deflate, but none the less walk to your room. You notice the AC now works. 

The warmth of the Italian sun is already starting to filter in through your window as you slip into your pale yellow babydoll dress. The soft fabric feels light against your skin, perfect for the warm weather and the laid-back vibes of the villa.

When you finally make your way downstairs, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries fills the air, and you can hear the familiar hum of laughter and chatter. The villa’s terrace is bathed in sunlight, with everyone seated around the large outdoor table, enjoying breakfast. 

Max is already seated, of course, his usual stoic expression in place. He’s leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, making it impossible to tell if he’s even noticed you. 

An array of colorful fruits and pastries litters the table, couples chatting and laughing as you offer everyone a warm smile while taking a seat next to Mila, who returns the gesture. “How was the room, darling?” she asks, taking a sip of her tea. You can feel a pair of laser beams on your face, as if Max is staring into your soul.

“Oh, it was truly nice,” you reply, feeling the tips of your ears heat up with nerves. Mila seems to buy it and turns to address the entire group.

“So, guys, today we’re going to take the yacht around,” she announces, eliciting a few excited hoots from your friends. Your stomach tightens at the thought of being stuck on a yacht, but you brush the anxiety aside.

As the chatter around the breakfast table grows, the knot in your stomach tightens at the mention of the yacht. You toy with the edge of your napkin, trying to suppress the wave of nerves that accompanies the idea of being out on the water, especially since you can’t swim.

Max, still leaning back in his chair, tilts his head slightly in your direction, as if he senses the unease radiating off you. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but you swear you can feel his gaze tracing over you. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can almost hear his voice echoing in your mind: “You came to the Amalfi Coast, and you can’t swim?”

You swallow hard, forcing a smile as you join in on the group's excitement, even though the thought of being surrounded by water sends a shiver down your spine. Mila stands, gathering everyone’s attention, and starts guiding the group toward the dock.

The villa’s outdoor space spills into a sprawling garden, leading to a private path that takes you to where the yacht is docked. The sunlight glints off the water, almost blinding in its brightness, as you walk with the others toward the sleek, luxurious yacht. Everyone seems thrilled—laughing and talking about the views they’ll see—while you stay quieter than usual, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

You tug at the sleeves of your oversized polo, the fabric bunching slightly in your grip as you focus on steadying your breath. The path to the dock feels longer than it actually is, the sounds of the group’s lively chatter fading into the background. You glance at the shimmering blue water ahead and bite the inside of your cheek.

Max lingers just a few steps behind, and you can feel the weight of his presence even without looking. His footsteps are slow and deliberate, as if he’s watching you closely, waiting for any sign of weakness. You try not to dwell on it, though the image of him smirking at your fear lingers in the back of your mind.

As the group finally boards the yacht, you become hyper-aware of the water surrounding you. The boat rocks gently as everyone gets settled, and you grip the railing tightly, trying to hide your discomfort. Max watches you for a moment before walking past you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours.

“Relax,” he mutters under his breath, not even looking at you, but there’s something almost reassuring in his tone. You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to take a seat with the others, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of conversation distract you from the vast ocean around you.

As the yacht pulls away from the dock, you try to focus on the scenery. The Amalfi Coast is breathtaking—cliffs draped in greenery, colorful villas dotting the shoreline, and the ocean sparkling beneath the golden sunlight. Everyone around you laughs and soaks up the beauty of the day, but your hands remain clenched in your lap, your mind preoccupied with the endless expanse of water.

Despite your nervousness, you find yourself stealing glances at Max. He’s sitting at the back of the yacht, one arm draped casually over the side, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he stares out at the water. He looks so at ease, completely unaffected by the swaying of the boat or the openness of the sea.

The breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and as you turn your attention back to the group, you feel the yacht slow down. Mila claps her hands, announcing that they’ve anchored near a beautiful cove, perfect for swimming.

Your stomach drops.

Everyone begins shedding layers, excitement buzzing through the group as they prepare to jump into the water. You stay seated, gripping the edge of your chair as they leap overboard, laughter echoing around you.

Max stands, pulling off his shirt and revealing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your eyes linger for a moment longer than you intend. He catches your gaze just before he moves toward the edge of the yacht, that same smirk playing on his lips.

“You coming in?” he asks, his voice low, almost challenging.

You shake your head quickly, offering a small laugh. “No, I think I’ll just… stay here and enjoy the sun.”

Max arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying your excuse, but he doesn’t push it. He gives you one last look, his smirk still in place, before diving effortlessly into the water.

You watch as your friends giggle and enjoy themselves. Mila waves up at you, and you give her a fake salute. She giggles and goes back to swimming. A few minutes later, several members of the group come up to take a break, Max among them. You hate to admit it, but you watch the water droplets roll off him, his cheeks flushed from the sun, and a tight feeling blooms in your core as you force yourself to look away.

The group is lively, and at one point, Jamie, always the instigator, starts playfully shoving friends toward the edge of the boat, teasing and laughing. You stand at the back, watching, hoping to stay out of the chaos.

But in a moment of playful exuberance, Jamie swings his arm and accidentally nudges you forward. Time seems to slow as you lose your balance, and before you can even process what’s happening, you tumble over the side of the yacht. The water crashes around you, and as you hit the surface, the cold rush envelops you, sending panic gripping your chest. Instinctively, you kick your legs, but the water pulls you under, and you flail in confusion. The world above disappears, and the muffled sounds of laughter and splashing fade into silence.

Just as you start to lose hope, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back to the surface. You gasp for air, blinking the water from your eyes, and find yourself face-to-face with Max. His expression is intense, irritation etched on his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps, though his grip is steady and reassuring as he keeps you afloat.

You can’t help but laugh nervously, trying to shake off the fear. “I didn’t want to go in!” you manage to sputter, still clinging to him for dear life.

Max rolls his eyes, the frown returning, though it’s softer this time. “You need to stop thrashing around,” he says, his voice lower now.

As he helps you back onto the yacht, the warmth of the sun hits your damp skin once more. Laughter and cheers erupt from the group as they realize you’re okay, but Max’s presence is the only thing that matters to you in this moment. He doesn’t say anything; his expression remains unreadable as he sets you down.

You catch your breath, water dripping from your hair and running down your arms. “Thanks, Max,” you say, trying to brush off the embarrassment. His usual smirk is absent, and for a split second, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he cares.

But as soon as you’re on the boat, he steps back, leaving you with the others. “Try not to drown next time,” he says, his tone flat as he pulls his shirt back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin. It feels more like a reflex than a genuine jab, but you let it slide, laughing it off. “I’ll try my best.”

He turns away, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You shake your head, trying to focus on the laughter around you as Jamie and Mila check to make sure you’re okay. “Really, I’m fine,” you assure them, even as your heart races from the close call.

Just like that, everyone goes back to normal. Lunch is served, and as the yacht heads back to the dock under the fading light, you’re the first one off, eager to touch solid ground once more. You don’t bid anyone goodnight; you’re all too tired for that. You head upstairs to your room, closing the door behind you and shrugging off your damp polo and swimsuit. You hop in the shower, rinsing the salt water off your skin.

After your shower, the soft sound of knocking pulls you from your thoughts. You wrap yourself in a towel and open the door to find Mila standing there, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, just wanted to check on you,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scan your face, searching for any signs of distress. “That fall looked pretty rough.”

You chuckle softly, waving it off. “I’m fine, really. Just a little embarrassed.”

Mila raises an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “You sure it’s not because of Max? I saw the way he pulled you out of the water. It looked pretty… intimate.”

The mention of Max sends a warmth flooding through you, one that you quickly dismiss. “Oh, please. He was just being a jerk, as usual.”

She smirks, crossing her arms. “Or maybe he just likes the attention.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, but a small part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it. “He’s just… Max. You know how he is.”

Mila studies you for a moment, trying to read between the lines. “Well, just think about it. He’s not always the way he acts, you know?”

With that, she leaves, and you find yourself lost in thought, her words echoing in your mind. What if Max really did care?

Later that night, curiosity gets the better of you. You stand in front of Max’s door, your heart racing as you knock softly.

“Come in,” he calls, and you push the door open cautiously. He’s lounging on his bed, scrolling through his phone, and for a moment, you’re struck by how at home he looks.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft. “I just wanted to thank you… for earlier.”

Max looks up, a flicker of something in his gaze before he masks it with indifference. “You mean for saving your ass?” he quips, his smirk returning. “Don’t mention it.”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

His expression shifts, annoyance flickering across his features. “What do you want me to do? Throw you a parade for not drowning?”

“Maybe just a little acknowledgment would be nice,” you counter, crossing your arms defensively.

He stands, taking a step closer, and the air between you crackles with tension. “I don’t like how sweet you are,” he says, his tone sharp. “It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” you challenge, feeling a rush of defiance. “Is that really all you’ve got? Because it sounds like you’re just scared of someone actually caring.”

Max’s eyes darken, and for a moment, you think he might snap back. But instead, he steps even closer, invading your personal space. “You think you’re so great, don’t you? All sunshine and rainbows, but it doesn’t work with me.”

Before you can respond, he closes the distance, and suddenly, his lips are on yours—fervent and demanding. His warmth envelops you, slightly chapped against your own, igniting a spark that sends a thrill coursing through your entire body. You’re caught off guard at first, but your instincts take over, and you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He presses you against the door, his body firm and solid against yours, radiating heat that makes your pulse quicken. The kiss is intoxicating; every second stretches into eternity—his lips moving against yours in a dance that feels both wild and tender.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your heart races as you search his eyes. “Wait… Max—”

He leans in again, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

A rush of warmth floods your cheeks at his words. “Is that all you have to say?” you tease, a smile breaking through your fluster.

Max steps back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he watches you intently. “What do you want me to say? That I’m an asshole who can’t help but want you?”

The air between you buzzes with unspoken tension—a mix of frustration and attraction. You feel exhilarated yet confused, unable to ignore the thrill of being this close to him, the chemistry crackling like electricity.

“Maybe you could start by admitting you actually care,” you challenge softly, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Maybe,” he replies, a hint of seriousness in his tone before leaning in again, capturing your lips with his. This time, it’s even more intense; his hands grip your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

But as the moment stretches on, you pull back slightly, breathless. “Max—”

He leans in again, and you find yourself needing to physically stop him, your hands resting on his chest. “Wait, we can’t just—”

“Why not?” he presses, his voice low and needy, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

You’re both panting, caught in an electric moment. “You’re infuriating, you know that?” you say, a smile creeping onto your lips despite the chaos swirling around you.

Max smirks, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, but you like it.” He crashes his lips against yours once more, and as he pulls away, he runs his tongue along his lower lip, a boyish smirk breaking through. “Sweet like honey,” he teases, prompting you to laugh and tilt your head back. Without thinking, you pull him down by his shirt collar, kissing him again, lost in the moment.

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he was able to do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both of your eyes fall down to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved the way it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the pieces of hair up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet." he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up the gala last weekend." one of the grey haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃 ga ming from genshin impact in encountering a monster male reader and gets butt fucked

Author's Note: One butt fuckin' coming up! I made the reader some type of bird monster, to hopefully do something a bit different from my other monster readers 😅

Pairings: Gaming x male reader

Warnings: Male bird monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Gaming, noncon, no prep, primal sex, too much cum

In his line of work, Gaming has to have sharp senses. Anything could happen while he's making a delivery or escorting someone back to their village. Kids get into trouble all of the time — if your hearing isn't trained well enough, you might not pick up on someone's cries for help.

Anything could happen as the sun beats down on the energetic man who walks along a riverbed. His hands absentmindedly mess with an empty food wrapping and, in his trance, he doesn't notice the large shadow closing in on him until–

“Whoa! Hey!” Gaming shouts, steadying himself after your gust of wind nearly caused him to topple over into the river.

When he finally sees what almost flew into him, Gaming's hand reaches for his weapon.

A man… no, a bird– or maybe… a birdman? A human-bird hybrid stands before him; taller than him and rather imposing. Its facial features sharp, and a deranged look in its eye.

Your knees bend, then you once again take flight — this time, you do manage to knock the smaller man over. He tumbles to the grassy area below, but before he can stand back up, you rush over and pin him by his shoulders.

“Ah ah ah! Struggling never helped anyone!” you squawk. Keeping him pinned, you use your talons to rip a hole in the back of his pants.

The action startles poor Gaming. The open air hits his vulnerable hole, and his blood freezes thinking about all of the potential scenarios that could come next.

Anything could happen as your wild, grating laugh pierces his ears — your sharp talons dig in, marking the flesh of his ass cheeks as you spread them apart. “Nononono just hold on a sec—!!”

Gaming cries out as your wet tip slides against his ass; searching for his entrance. You thrust at the air a few times, trying to line yourself up and make it inside. Meanwhile, your prey looks like he's about to cry — large tears pool in the corners of his eyes and his limbs flail around as he searches for an escape. But you both know there isn't one.

He chokes on his words as your cock finally pushes in. Every new inch that enters him burns as your impossibly long monster cock stretches his muscles wider. Your dick only swells more as the human's tightness squeezes it without mercy.

“This is so much better than those winged mates from before! Do all humans have a pussy this tight?” But your prey doesn't answer. His voice has seemingly left him too soon. Only sobs and moans find their way out of him as you continue to ram yourself into his little hole.

Gaming can easily feel every vein on your dick. The shape of the head, and the way it seems like your entire length is going straight through his body, are forever etched into his memory.

His ass bounces with every snap of your hips, turning his skin a darker shade of pink as the abuse goes on.

You speed up, ignoring the human's pained voice as you use his insides to pleasure yourself. Finally, you spill inside of him — shooting an ungodly surge of cum into his womb. Not even human sperm, but thick, fertile monster seed that sloshes around with his every move.

With a wet plop noise, you pull out. The human's hole is gaping, pulsating as some cum dribbles out and creates a small puddle between his weary legs.

But everyone knows that most monsters have far more stamina than humans do.

Gaming's ass is ravaged once again as you slide back into him with an insatiable hunger. Your cum acts as lube this time, and every deep thrust inside is sickeningly wet — the sheer size and length of your cock simultaneously fucks the sperm further inside, and pushes the excess out, leaking down his trembling thighs.

Again, you spill your heavy load inside, adding to the gooey mess that's crammed into his tiny hole.

Anything could happen as Gaming's voice becomes scratchy from all of his crying and screaming, and you slide back in for another round. Pounding and pounding, with no obvious end in sight.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right—there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

[thinkinginpen]

Unexpected Company

a/n: It may not be the holidays yet but who doesn't love some good Christmas spirit in the fall? pairing: old!logan x reader w/c: 3.2k warnings: romance, hinting, love, fake dating, age gap, etc. summary: You went to Logan's house, your grumpy old neighbor, to bring him cookies and get away from the Christmas party. Little did you know this grumpy old man would take a turn.

"What is all this racket-" Logan muttered as the doorbell rang again for a third time in a row. With a groan, the old man heaved himself up from his armchair. He hadn't had a single minute's rest today, what with the kids home from school on winter break, and now some nosy neighbor was bothering him when it was starting to get late.

He reached the door and yanked it open, intending to give whoever it was a piece of his mind. Instead, he was greeted by a familiar face. You were standing on his porch, holding a plate of cookies.

He had seen you many times but always avoided you.

"What are you doing here?" he said gruffly, his voice rough and full of suspicion. He didn't want to start another fight with the neighbors.

You smiled sweetly, not at all bothered by his harsh tone. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Logan," you said, holding out the plate of cookies. "I brought you some cookies."

He didn't know what to say. Nobody had ever brought him anything before. He was a difficult old man and he knew it. He wasn't used to such kindness.

"Why?" he asked gruffly.

You chuckled softly, the sound light and sweet, like music to his ears. "Just a little neighborly gesture," you said, tilting your head to the side.

He found himself oddly captivated by the sight. You were so different from him. You were so… soft. And those eyes…

He shook himself out of it. He was too old and too grumpy for nonsense like that. "Neighborly gesture?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you know I'm not the friendly type?"

You shrugged, still smiling. "I don't care," you said cheerfully. "Everybody deserves cookies on Christmas."

Logan snorted. "That's a load of Hallmark nonsense and you know it."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh please. You're not as grumpy as you pretend to be."

He felt a twinge of surprise at the unexpected tease. Nobody ever called him on his bluff.

You chuckled softly and took a step closer, peering up at him with a smile. "You know, Logan, I've seen you around the neighborhood. You're always scowling and growling at people. But I can tell. You're not really mad, you're just lonely."

He blinked, taken aback by your perceptiveness. No one ever saw through him like this before.

"I am not lonely," he said, trying to keep his cool. But the words came out more forcefully than he intended, betraying his true feelings. He felt exposed, like you were holding up a mirror to his deepest fears.

You didn't even bother to call him out on the lie. Instead, you just held up the plate of cookies again. "Have a cookie, Mr. Scrooge," you said with a small laugh.

He glowered at you, tempted to slam the door in your face. But there was something in your eyes that he couldn't ignore. It was understanding, or compassion, or maybe a bit of both.

For once, he didn't feel the urge to push you away.

He reached out and grabbed a cookie from the plate. "These better be good," he grumbled.

"Oh, they are," you said, a note of triumph in your voice. Good. You knew he couldn't resist homemade cookies.

He took a bite and found himself surprised. They were good. Really good. Like, the best cookies he had ever eaten.

"These are actually edible," he said grudgingly, trying to keep up his grumpy act.

You just laughed. "Told you."

There was a moment of silence as he finished his cookie. He could feel your eyes on him, watching him closely. As if you were studying him, like he was a curious specimen or a rare animal.

It bothered him, but not as much as it should have. There was something about the way you looked at him…

He cleared his throat, trying to break the spell. He needed to get rid of you before things got out of hand. "Alright, that's enough. Go bother someone else."

But you just laughed again. "Oh, come on, Logan. I know you don't mean that. You like me around."

Logan bristled, feeling stung by your words. He wasn't used to someone seeing through him like this.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said gruffly. "I don't need company."

But you didn't even flinch. "You're lonely," you said gently, your eyes full of compassion. "And it's okay to admit it."

He felt a pang of vulnerability. Was he really that obvious? Had he really been that lonely for so long, and no one had noticed?

He tried to push down the feeling, tried to cling to his anger. But he couldn't do it. Something about you just made him feel… vulnerable.

"I don't need your pity," he grumbled, looking away.

"It's not pity," you said, stepping closer. "It's just the truth. You need someone to talk to, someone to comfort you."

His eyes flicked to your face, watching your expression closely. You were so sincere, so open. It was like you had no idea what a danger he could be.

"You don't know what you're getting into," he said gruffly. "You don't want to get involved with me."

"Why not?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

He had to admire your courage. Most people would have run away by now, intimidated by his gruff manner. But not you. You just smiled at him, like he was some kind of puzzle you were determined to solve.

"I'm not a good person," he said gruffly, narrowing his eyes at you. "I've done things I'm not proud of."

"Don't we all?" you asked, your smile just growing wider. "Nobody's perfect, Mr. Logan. We all make mistakes."

He grunted, frustrated that you refused to take his warning seriously. "You don't understand," he said, his voice thick with warning. "I've done things that would make your skin crawl. If you knew the real me, you'd run away screaming."

"Is that right?" you said, still smiling. He found himself almost mesmerized by the sight. How could you be so cheerful when he was trying so hard to scare you away?

He nodded once, his expression grave. "It's true."

You tilted your head, still smiling. "And yet, I'm still here."

He felt a pang of frustration. Why were you so damn stubborn? Didn't you understand the danger you were in?

"You're a fool," he grumbled. "You're not scared of me at all, are you?"

"Not even a little bit," you said, your smile growing even wider. "You think you're tough, but I can see the real you underneath all that bluster."

He felt a pang of surprise, followed by a surge of irritation. How dare you psychoanalyze him like this? Who did you think you were?

As the conversation went on, you suddenly shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

Logan noticed the movement and raised an eyebrow. "You cold?" he grumbled.

You nodded, your breath coming out in a visible cloud in the cold air. You had been outside for too long.

Logan grunted, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Why the hell didn't you say something?" he said gruffly.

You just shrugged, trying to play it off. "I didn't want to bother you."

He grunted. Typical. You were too nice for your own good.

"Come inside," he said gruffly. "You're gonna catch your death out here."

You seemed surprised. "Are you sure?"

He grunted again. "Just come in before you freeze to death, for fucks sake."

He stepped aside, letting you into his house. As you moved past him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being drawn in by your infectious warmth.

You looked around the interior of his house with interest. It was just as you had expected – sparse and utilitarian, with few personal touches. He clearly wasn't one for decorating.

He watched you silently as you looked around, wondering what you were thinking. You seemed so out of place in his home, surrounded by his rough edges and lack of comforts.

"It's cozy," you said, trying to make conversation.

He grunted. "Don't lie. It's a dump."

He gestured to the old couch. "Sit down before you freeze. I'll make some coffee."

You walked over to the couch and sat down, feeling the cushions sag under your weight. The old fabric was worn smooth, like it had been used every day for decades.

He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. You looked around, feeling a pang of pity for him. It was obvious that he didn't have guests often, if ever.

As you looked around, you noticed something strange. There was no Christmas tree.

Sure, Logan wasn't exactly a festive person, but it seemed odd that he didn't even have a small tree or a few decorations. It seemed like the kind of thing you would expect a lonely old man to have, just to pretend there was at least a little holiday spirit in the house.

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of sadness. He was lonelier than you had realized. A small Christmas tree in the corner wouldn't have made much difference, but it would have been something, at least.

You heard the sound of footsteps, and turned to see him walking back into the room with two mugs of coffee in hand.

"Here," he said gruffly, handing you one of the mugs. The coffee was black and steaming hot.

You thanked him, wrapping your hands around the mug to warm them. He sat down in the armchair across from the couch and sipped his own coffee, watching you closely.

"So," he said after a moment. "What's a pretty young thing like you doing bringing cookies to a grumpy old bastard like me?"

You smiled, feeling oddly comfortable with him despite his gruff exterior. "Just spreading some holiday cheer," you said. "Everybody deserves a smile and a cookie this time of year."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "You're a real bleeding heart, aren't you?"

But there was no malice in his voice. If anything, he almost sounded fond.

You chuckled at his gruffness. Despite his tough exterior, you could tell he wasn't really that angry. He was just surprised by your kindness, and maybe a little uncomfortable with it.

"It's just a few cookies," you said, taking a sip of coffee. "Not a big deal."

"No, it is a big deal," he said, his tone growing more serious. "People don't just do nice things for no reason."

He looked at you closely, his gaze intense. "What's your angle, kid? What do you want from me?"

You laughed, surprised by his bluntness. "I don't want anything," you said, shaking your head. "I just wanted to be nice. It's Christmas, after all."

He grunted, still looking suspicious. "You're telling me you just wandered over here, knocked on my door, and gave me cookies because you're just that nice?"

As he kept watching you, you suddenly found yourself feeling self-conscious. Those intense eyes were so sharp and perceptive, like he could see right through you.

You felt your cheeks growing warm and you started fidgeting with the cuffs of your sleeves. You looked around the room, trying to avoid his gaze, before finally looking out the window at your own house across the street.

As you glanced out the window, you saw that there was a small crowd of people on your front porch. Most of them were laughing and talking, but one figure stood out from the rest.

Your ex-boyfriend was standing on your front porch.

You felt a pang of nausea as you saw him. He was the last person you wanted to see right now, especially on Christmas.

When Logan saw your expression he leaned forward, a note of concern creeping into his voice. "What's going on over there? Who is that?"

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. "It's my ex," you said softly.

Logan frowned, his eyes narrowing. "And why is he at your house?" he asked gruffly.

You bit your lip, feeling conflicted. "My family is having a little Christmas party," you explained. "He's friends with my brother, so he's invited too. I was hoping to avoid him, but…"

He grunted, understanding what you were getting at. "He's already making a scene."

He didn't need to ask any more questions. He could see the situation clearly enough from your expression. It was written all over your face. You were clearly uncomfortable and unhappy having him here.

"What does it look like?" he said gruffly, slipping on the jacket. "I'm coming with you."

"B-but everyone knows you're the grumpy neighbor Mr. Logan…" you stuttered, "And… And my parents, what will they think if I bring you in, ten times my age. Mr. Logan I-"

He rolled his eyes as he put on his shoes. "Who cares what they think? You need someone to drive that idiot away, and I'm volunteering. Now let's go."

You bit your lip, feeling conflicted. On one hand, you knew your parents would absolutely lose it if you brought home an old man like Logan. But on the other hand, you really didn't want to spend any more time with your ex than necessary.

Finally you nodded, making up your mind. "Alright," you said. "But I hope you're ready for my family to be nosy as hell."

He grunted and stood up, adjusting his shirt. "I can handle nosy. I've been called a few things a lot worse than that in my life."

He gestured to the door. "Lead the way, kid."

As you walked outside, the streets only lit up by the street lights you spoke, "Mr. Logan what are you gonna say if they ask what you are doing with me… Are you gonna say we are-"

He grunted, thinking for a moment. He knew your family would start asking questions the moment they saw him.

"We'll say I'm your boyfriend," he said, his tone firm. "That'll shut them up real quick."

He shrugged, a hint of a smile crossing his face. "Hey, they don't know that. It'll be plenty believable. I mean, look at me."

He gestured to himself, still looking faintly amused. "I'm a catch, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. "Oh, of course. A silver fox, and probably three times my age… the perfect young woman's boyfriend," you said dryly.

He chuckled at your sarcastic tone. "Hey, I'll have you know I'm aging like a fine wine," he grumbled. "Besides, it doesn't need to be that convincing. We just need a cover story that'll get rid of your little pest problem."

As you crossed the street, you felt a flicker of nervousness. You knew that everyone would notice the two of you walking up to your house together. You could practically see the questions forming on their lips already.

But Logan walked beside you, his steps confident and unhurried. He was unbothered by the stares from your family and friends.

As you and Logan approached, there was a sudden rush of noise as everyone turned to look at you both. Several people were drinking, and a couple others were already pretty buzzed. Your parents were among them, and their eyes widened as they saw the grumpy old man walking at your side.

Your mom rushed forward, practically elbowing her way through the crowd. She came up to you with a strained smile.

"Sweetie, you told me you were just delivering cookies," she said, her eyes darting to Logan. "What is he doing here?"

You felt a sudden stab of guilt under her glare. You had told her a little white lie, saying you were only taking him some Christmas goodies. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very young and very stupid.

Logan, however, seemed unbothered by her questioning gaze. He just looked at her with a bored expression, his hands in his pockets.

"Mom, be nice he is our neighbor!"

Your mom narrowed her eyes at Logan. "Neighbor or not, I don't want some strange old man on my property without a good reason."

She looked between you and him, her expression suspicious. "And why, exactly, are you here, Logan?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, unintimidated by her questioning. "Can't a man visit his girlfriend's house on Christmas?" he said gruffly.

Your mom sputtered, completely taken aback by his blunt answer.

"Your- your girlfriend?" she repeated, her face reddening. She looked around wildly, as if looking for some hidden cameras watching her reaction.

Everyone else was watching intently, clearly interested in the conversation. Your ex boyfriend, off in the corner, looked particularly outraged.

Your face felt hot, and you knew your cheeks must be bright red right now. "Oh my God," you muttered under your breath.

Logan chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "That's right," he said gruffly. "We've been seeing each other for a few months now."

Your mom was lost for words. Everyone else was silent as well, stunned by the revelation. Even your ex boyfriend looked baffled, his expression a mixture of disbelief and horror.

"He's an old neighbor honey!"

"He's handsome, charming, and he has a stable job and income," you countered, trying to sell the charade. You felt bad lying to your mom, but this was better than dealing with your ex again.

Logan looked slightly smug at your compliment, enjoying the shocked expressions on everyone's faces.

"But he's old enough to be your father!" your mom said, still incredulous.

You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to come to terms with this new development.

"Age is just a number," Logan said bluntly, unconcerned with her objections. "Besides, I look good for my age, don't I?"

He flexed his right bicep, showing off his muscular forearm.

Your mom's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as he flexed his arm, and your dad quickly stepped in before she did something drastic like collapse.

"Alright, alright," he said, laying a calming hand on her shoulder. He turned to look at Logan, a wary look on his face.

"Now, I don't have any objection to you as a man, Logan," he said carefully, choosing his words. "But I have to admit I'm a little confused about why you'd want to date my daughter. No offense to her, but there's a large age difference between you two."

Logan shrugged, unconcerned. "What can I say? I've got a thing for younger women. And she's a sweetheart, isn't she? Who could resist that smile?"

He grinned at you, and you felt a pang of gratitude. He was really selling the whole relationship thing.

Your dad looked between the two of you, clearly suspicious but not knowing what else to say. Your mom was still just gaping at the two of you.

Finally, you ex spoke up from across the room. "Excuse me," he said, looking furious, "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

You felt a pang of dread as you heard your ex's voice. You knew it was only a matter of time before he confronted you.

Reluctantly, you sighed and nodded. "Yeah, sure. We can talk."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 1 Part 2

[its-avalon-08]

Hi. I was thinking of something with Lando Norris where Lando has been secretive and hiding his phone and everything and reader thinks he's cheating on her and feels miserable thinking she's not enough. And when she asks Lando about it he feels extremely guilty because he was actually planning to PROPOSE!!

new passwords and new surnames (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, miscommunication, tears, fluff

Y/N sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest as she absentmindedly scrolled through social media. Her heart wasn’t in it, not really. It hadn’t been for weeks now. She couldn't help but replay the small, almost imperceptible changes in Lando's behavior that had slowly eroded her peace of mind.

It started so innocently. One night, while they were lying in bed, she noticed Lando's phone screen light up with a notification. His hand shot out faster than usual to grab it, turning it face-down. He flashed her a smile, that easy-going grin she adored, but something was off.

"You okay?" she had asked then, her voice soft and questioning.

"Yeah, love. Just a text from the team. Nothing important." He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary as if to erase any doubt. But the doubt had settled in that moment and had been growing ever since.

Tonight, it was all too much. The weight of uncertainty sat on her chest like a heavy stone. She couldn’t ignore how distant Lando had been lately. He changed the password on his phone, something he hadn’t done in years. When they were out together, he'd tuck his phone away whenever she got close or make some excuse to leave the room to answer calls. He laughed it off when she asked why he was being so secretive.

And she wanted to believe him. Desperately. But each time, the gnawing ache in her gut got worse. She wasn't paranoid—she was trying not to be. But the constant second-guessing was eating her alive.

"What if he's seeing someone else?" The thought pierced through her mind, sharper and more painful every time she allowed it to surface. She hated herself for even thinking it, but she couldn’t stop.

Y/N blinked, her vision blurring as tears welled up. She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. Not yet.

She replayed another moment in her head. A few days ago, Lando had left for a race weekend. He’d been unusually flustered before leaving, fumbling around their shared apartment, misplacing his keys and wallet, which wasn’t like him. He barely looked her in the eyes when he kissed her goodbye, murmuring a quick, "Love you," before disappearing out the door. And later that night, when she texted him, he responded hours later with a vague, "Sorry, busy."

“Busy with what?” she whispered aloud to herself, the silence of the apartment engulfing her. Her mind filled with images of him with someone else—someone better, someone who wasn’t her.

She wasn’t enough, was she?

The thought felt like a punch to her gut. Maybe I’m not interesting anymore. Maybe he found someone who gets him better. Lando was famous, rich, and could have anyone he wanted. She wasn’t special. Not in the way some gorgeous model or influencer could be.

Y/N shifted on the couch, pressing her palms against her forehead, trying to stop the spiraling thoughts. I should ask him. No, I can’t. What if I’m wrong? What if he’s not cheating? The internal debate was killing her.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door. Her stomach dropped. Lando was home.

He walked into the living room, looking tired but smiling at her, his blue eyes lighting up in that way that used to make her heart race. Now, all she felt was a deep ache.

"Hey, babe," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Miss me?"

She nodded but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead, she fixed her gaze on her hands, now trembling slightly in her lap. "Yeah. How was the day?"

"Busy as hell. Meetings, more meetings, and then training," he chuckled lightly. "I could use a beer."

She nodded again, offering a weak smile. "I'll grab it for you." She needed to move, to do anything to avoid this unbearable tension.

As she stood up, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Lando’s eyes darted to it, but his expression remained calm. He watched as she crossed the room to grab his beer from the fridge, her movements stiff and robotic. The distance between them felt like an ocean.

Her hands were cold when she handed him the drink, and for a moment, she debated whether to say anything. Should she ask him now? Her heart raced with anxiety as she stood awkwardly, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as though it could keep her from unraveling completely.

She took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “Lando… is there something going on? Something you're not telling me?"

He froze, his hand halfway to his mouth, beer bottle in hand. His eyes flickered with surprise, maybe even guilt, and that tiny moment of hesitation broke her. She saw it, clear as day.

“What do you mean?” His voice was cautious, like he was trying to tread lightly.

Y/N swallowed hard. “You’ve been so secretive lately. You’re hiding your phone, leaving the room to take calls. You changed your password… You—” her voice cracked, the vulnerability bleeding through. “You’ve never done that before.”

Lando set his beer down on the table, his expression shifting from surprise to something darker. “Y/N, no—”

“I can’t keep ignoring it!” she interrupted, her voice louder now, the emotion bubbling up uncontrollably. “I’m trying to be calm, I’m trying to trust you, but it feels like you’re hiding something from me! And I—” She paused, taking a sharp breath as tears threatened to spill over. “I keep wondering if… if I’m not enough for you anymore.”

Lando’s eyes widened in horror, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but she kept going.

“Am I losing you, Lando? Is there someone else? Because if there is, just tell me, okay? I don’t think I can take this anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

The tears finally slipped down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, frustrated with herself for breaking like this in front of him. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer. It had been eating her alive.

Lando stood frozen, his mouth slightly open as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. Guilt flooded his features, and Y/N’s heart shattered a little more seeing it.

She had been right all along, hadn’t she?

And now, she was about to lose him.

Chapter Two: The Unveiling

Lando took a step closer, his expression shifting from shock to concern as he reached out, brushing his thumb against her cheek to catch a tear. “Y/N, no… You’re everything to me. I would never cheat on you. I promise. It’s just…” He hesitated, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find the right words. “It’s just been a lot.”

She looked away, trying to compose herself, but the knot in her throat tightened. “Then why all the secrecy? Why the phone? I feel like I’m losing my mind here.”

His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath. “I know I’ve been distant, but please, let me explain. It’s not what you think. I’ve just been… planning something.”

“Planning what?” Her voice cracked, the confusion mixing with the hurt that had been building for weeks. “What could possibly require all this secrecy?”

Lando stepped back, taking her hands in his, squeezing them tightly as if grounding himself. “Y/N, I’ve been trying to plan the perfect way to ask you something. And I thought… I thought if I could surprise you, it would be amazing.”

Her heart raced. “What do you mean?”

He paused, his eyes shining with emotion. “I wanted to propose to you, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I thought I could keep it under wraps until the right moment. I was going to do it this weekend, and I’ve just been so caught up in making it perfect that I didn’t realize how my actions were affecting you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind spinning as she tried to process his words. “You… you wanted to propose?”

“Yes!” Lando exclaimed, his voice a mixture of relief and excitement. “I love you, Y/N, and I want to spend my life with you. I just got so caught up in the planning that I forgot how important it is to communicate. I never wanted you to feel this way.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, but the hurt still lingered. “But you were hiding things from me, Lando. It felt like you were pushing me away.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice earnest. “I was being an idiot. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I ended up making everything worse.” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I should have trusted you enough to share this with you. I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t enough, because you are everything to me.”

Y/N’s heart softened at his sincerity, but the tears still streamed down her face. “You’re really serious about this?”

“More than anything,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “You deserve to know how much I love you, and I should’ve told you sooner. You make me a better person, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Just as Y/N was beginning to comprehend the gravity of his words, Lando knelt down on one knee, taking a small velvet box from his pocket. Her heart raced, and her breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.

“Y/N,” he said, looking up at her with all the sincerity in the world. “Will you marry me? Will you be my partner in this wild life? I promise to never hide anything from you again. I want us to share everything, no more secrets.”

For a moment, time stood still. The world around them faded, and all that mattered was the two of them in this small living room filled with unspoken fears and newfound hope. She looked into his eyes, and all she saw was love—pure, unwavering love.

“I—” she began, her voice breaking as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “I thought I was losing you, Lando. I thought I wasn’t enough.”

“You’re more than enough, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re everything to me. So, what do you say?”

She blinked, her heart swelling as she finally let the reality of his proposal sink in. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Lando’s face broke into a huge smile as he slipped the ring onto her finger, a beautiful band that sparkled in the soft light. She gasped, lifting her hand to get a better look. It was perfect—simple, elegant, just like the love they shared.

“Really? You mean it?” he asked, rising to his feet, his eyes shining with joy.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, laughter spilling from her lips as she hugged him tightly. “I can’t believe you were hiding this from me!”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, holding her close. “I’m so sorry for everything. I promise to do better.”

As they pulled away, she looked into his eyes, the weight of her earlier fears lifting. “Just promise me one thing, Lando.”

“Anything,” he replied, his gaze intense.

“From now on, no more secrets, okay? We talk about everything.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you, love.”

With that, they embraced again, the tension that had filled their apartment melting away, leaving only the warmth of their love and the promise of a beautiful future together.

[vrystalius]

could you do hashira men with an s/o that's taller than them? (idk how this would work for gyomei since hes a literal beast)

Being taller than the hashira

How will they react to their s/o being taller than them?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa (179cm, 5’10")

You just can’t stop annoying him for being taller, can you? You with the head-pats, weather jokes and whatnot. It annoys Sanemi to no end how Genya is taller than him, someone who’s supposed to be smaller just because of his age, and now you’re doing it too! You’re supposed to be his spouse, damn it! Stop holding things above his head where he can’t reach it! He’s completely average height! Why are you even teasing him like this? It’s not Sanemi’s fault you’re rivalling the height of a mountain, so why make it his problem that you’re insecure, huh?!

Also, do not even dare to pet his head like you would with a child. He will kick your leg or break your kneecaps when you do it. He’s a grown man and doesn’t need you joking to him everyday that Sanemi’s going to get taken away during the Christmas period to work in Santa’s workshop as an elf. (Let’s pretend Santa exists in the Taisho Era)

“Never pat my head again. NEVER. And now fuck off or I’ll ignore your ass for the next week, no kisses, no nothing.”

Kyojuro Rengoku (177cm, 5’10")

It’s very amusing and adorable to him. Kyojuro needs to lift his face a little to properly face you and tip-toe a little to kiss you. It’s one of his favourite things in the world. Also, another thing he loves about you being taller than him is how comfortable it is to hug and hold you. Once he wraps his arms around your waist he can perfectly nuzzle his face against and into your warm chest.

It’s very endearing to him how you have to lean down to kiss him on the lips and how you sometimes pat his head as a greeting or just randomly without a reason. It makes Kyojuro’s whole day when you ruffle his hair a little everytime your hand touches the top of his head.

He sometimes hears from Tengen’s wives how they steal Tengen’s clothes to wear them, and he wanted to test this out himself. His clothes are too tight and small on you, but your clothes somehow fit him perfectly. They’re a little oversized, but that’s what makes them so comfortable. Kyojuro steals your clothes daily and wears them around the house with a huge smile.

“Oh, is that a new shirt, my love? May I try it on as well? It looks very comfortable!”

Gyomei Himejima (220cm, 7’2")

It was very surprising to him when he first met you. Gyomei believed that no one is capable of being taller than him, but you proved him wrong. He almost pitied you for towering over everything, like him. Due to his height, many people find him intimidating and scary, something you probably experienced yourself as well. He is very curious about your own experiences about being so tall and how people act around you.

Also, Gyomei feels very comfortable around you. He’s actually glad that his spouse is a little taller than him, that way he’s not afraid of scaring you with his height alone. He asked you not to tell anyone in case people ask, but he adores being the little spoon snd being held by you during the nights. It makes him feel just a little safer and more loved.

“My love, may I lay my head against your chest? You’re incredibly warm…”

Giyu Tomioka (176cm, 5’9")

Your height makes him slightly insecure about his own height. Giyu knows that he’s not the tallest of them all and that you can’t influence your height, but he’s just average. Average in fighting, average-to-worst-hashira, average in protecting, and now average in height. Seeing you tower over him like that… it just stings a little.

Yet, he likes when you have to lean down to kiss Giyu. It makes him flustered how you sometimes tilt his chin and lean down. One time, you lifted him up into your arms and peppered his face in kisses, then putting him back down and walking off. You left him behind to get all flustered and embarrassed. It makes him… feel things when you can throw him around with ease. It’s embarrassing, incredibly so, but he just can’t deny it to himself how much he actually likes it. He just really hopes you won’t notice.

“Put me down. Please. Pretty please.”

💠

I know this is short, so forgive me! I want to post at least two things today and take advantage of my sickday as much as possible :P! Hope you enjoyed reading it and thank you so much for requesting! This was fun!

Anyways, take care of yourselves <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

[buddie-buddie]

It rains on the way home.

Something about it feels fitting, Buck thinks. He leans his head against the car window, staring as a large droplet snakes its way down the glass in a slow, winding trail. Outside the car, the streetlights flick on, soft halos of light reflected in the shine of the wet pavement.

The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the windshield and the steady beat of the wipers is steady and soothing, almost enough to drown out the ache in his chest.

Almost, but not quite.

The soft glow of passing headlights casts fleeting shadows inside the car as they make their way back downtown to the loft.

The night feels heavy, pressing down on him in a way he can’t shake. His mind is 800 miles away, somewhere in the suburbs of El Paso.

Tommy glances over at him from the driver’s seat, the air between them thick with things unsaid.

“You’ve been quiet,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the silence, soft and gentle in a way that makes Buck’s heart squeeze. “You want to talk about it?”

Buck swallows hard, sighs. “I don’t know,” he mutters, his voice strained. “It’s just... tonight sucked. Seeing Chris like that... not reacting, not even looking at us—” He cuts himself off, draws in a deep, shaky breath. “I know he’s hurting. I know it’s between him and Eddie. But it feels like... like…” he trails off, unable to find the words to properly articulate the ache that’s settled deep inside his chest.

“Like he’s pulling away from you, too,” Tommy finishes for him, his voice gentle but certain.

Buck glances at Tommy, a flicker of something passing through his tired eyes—relief, maybe, at being understood. Tommy’s hand moves from the steering wheel to rest gently on Buck’s thigh, a welcome, reassuring warmth. His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle against the fabric of Buck’s jeans, grounding him with the simple touch.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “And Eddie... God, I hate seeing him like that. He was trying so hard, and Chris...”

Tommy’s eyes flick between the road and Buck’s face, reading him effortlessly. “I know,” he says. “This is… it’s hard right now. But it’s not forever.”

Buck lets out another shaky breath, his chest tight. It’s not just about Christopher practically ignoring them tonight. It’s deeper than that— seeing Eddie struggle, watching helplessly as his own bond with Chris starts to fade, feeling the sting of that loss himself. It hurts in a way he can’t quite describe.

He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as he swallows down the lump in his throat.

Tommy parks outside of Buck’s building, but he doesn’t make a move to get out. Instead, he turns to face Buck properly. There’s a warmth in his eyes, something so soft and so fond, it has Buck’s heart swelling in his chest.

“Hey,” Tommy says gently, squeezing Buck’s thigh reassuringly. “He’ll come around. He’s a kid. He’s hurting, and he’s still angry, but he’s not gone forever. He needs time, and so does Eddie. But you and Chris? That bond? It’s ironclad. A rough call and a few months apart won’t even crack the foundation, let alone undo it.”

Buck closes his eyes for a moment, letting Tommy’s words ease the knot in his chest. Tommy shifts, leaning in closer, his hand moving up to the back of Buck’s neck. Buck’s shoulders slump, his breath shaky as he leans into Tommy’s touch, finally letting himself feel the weight of everything. “I just want him to be okay,” he murmurs. He’s not sure who he’s talking about— Christopher or Eddie.

Maybe both of them.

Tommy’s thumb brushes over the nape of his neck, a quiet comfort that settles something deep within Buck’s chest. “He will be,” Tommy says, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s temple. “And you will be, too.”

For the first time all night, Buck feels a small, tentative flash of hope breaking through the heaviness still weighing on him.

His heart still breaks for Eddie, still misses Chris so much it physically hurts. But here, with Tommy, the weight of it all feels a little less crushing.

also on ao3

[mattsfavoritestar]

back_to_matt_masterlist

NO CONTROL, matt sturniolo

part 1

synopsis… matt made it clear to everyone that you were his. everyone but you.

warnings… fratboy!matt, collagestudent!reader, female reader, mentions of kissing, slightly suggestive, slightly possessive!matt, slightly obsessive!matt, mostly fluffy, mentions of alcohol and drug usage,

word count… 1174

“i just don’t get it? do i look okay? is it my breath?”, you ranted as you felt your friends hand rubbing your back. yet another guy you tried flirting with scrambled away with small apologies. you didn’t even want to try with the rest, they all avoided you as if you had the plague.

“probably just some dumb rumor someone started” your friend reassured. you sighed as you downed the red solo cup you were nursing for the past five minutes. “i wanna dance” you mumbled as you pulled your friend over to the more crowded area.

your head felt warm and fuzzy with the bass of the music bouncing off the walls as the alcohol melted into your system. you weren’t paying attention to anyone else in the room nor did you care to. till you were literally knocked out of your trance.

“yo, watching where you stepping bitch”, a series of gasp followed. your friend balanced you by holding your shoulders then pushed you behind her. you heard her voice berate him for being blind and delusional as he clearly bumped into you. you were already done with the day with the failed hook up attempts still fresh in your mind.

“c’mon i just wanna go” you grumbled. you had no energy to deal with whatever drugs this fratboy was high off of. one of the guys who were watching you from afar walked up to the fratboy and whispered in his ear. you watch his eyes widen and jaw slightly drop. you figured it wasn’t your friends lecture that gave him said reaction but more so of what that guy told him.

he gripped his hair in a panic as the harsh words from your friend aired right over his head. you watch him curiously as he started stuttering out an apology to you. “i’m so- i didn’t- fuck please don’t tell sturniolo” he begged.

sturniolo?

matt sturniolo?

“what are you talking about?” you ask in both annoyance and confusion. “i swear i didn’t know you were sturniolo’s girl-“ you ignore the rest of his apology as you felt the little alochol you drank earlier fuel your emotions into a rage. you swiftly turn around and march out of the party with your friend calling after you in confusion.

“matthew bernard sturniolo!” you called out with anger laced in your voice. you were annoyed with how your night was going, annoyed with that stupid coke addict calling you out your name, and to top it off you were met the face of someone who could pass as matt’s clone.

“woah calm down sweetheart,” chris chuckles. you were annoyed with one triplet already, you didn’t need another practically laughing in your face. “did you know?” you ask with a pointed finger. his hands shot up in the air, “i got nothing to do that, kid’s got no control of himself” he smiled.

you rolled your eyes, “where is he chris” you ask. chris nods towards the stairs, indicating matt residing in his room. you push past him as you heard yet another chuckle fall from his lips. too many eyes were watching you as you walked toward the familiar door. it wouldn’t be the first that these guys saw you head to matt’s room, only this time, it felt different.

you didn’t even bother knocking as you swung the door open. instantly hit with clouds of smoke with the soft voice of frank ocean playing in the background. matt was sitting on his bed with his back to his headboard as his head lazily rested back.

you strutted over to him but felt your anger slightly slip at the sight of his relaxed face and tussled hair. a smirk slowly painted his face as his heavy eyelids revealed his reddened blue eyes. “enjoying the view?” he says in a cocky tone.

“fuck off, i know what you did” you stated. you felt his hands slither their way onto your waist then swiftly pull you onto his lap. “yeah? tell me what i did baby” he whispered as he trailed his lips on your neck, occasionally leaving small kisses.

that alcohol in your system made your skin feel warmer. that, mixed with the fact that matt looked so good right now really wasn’t helping your interrogation. your body subconsciously pushed closer to feel more of matt as your words grew shorter.

“matt fuck. no- no stop.” you say as you find your self restraint.

he looked at you with his hooded red eyes, blown out pupils, and glossy lips. you had to compose yourself before you did the complete opposite of what you originally came to do. “why’d you tell people i’m off-limits?” you calmly ask him, you weren’t even mad anymore.

he shrugged, “just didn’t feel like sharing” he mumbled. you sighed as your fingers threaded through the back of his hair. “matt, we said no strings-“ you were cut off by his low groan. matt never took himself as the type of guy to like to have his hair being played with. if anything he always said that was for those corny ass couples. yet here he was melting at your touch.

“i’m not sorry if that’s what you’re asking” he says. you let out another sigh, “matt you can’t go around claiming me then go fuck other-“ a hand gripped your jaw as he makes you look directly at him.

“don’t even start with that shit, m’all yours” he says in a stern voice. you were at lost for words, entire topic completely blurring away. he pulled you into a kiss then drops his hand to your waist as his other holds your lower back. you pull away slightly, hovering over his lips. “i think we’re both a little too vulnerable right now” you whisper.

matt’s head drops to the crook of your neck. he inhales with a groan as the scent of your perfume fills his nostrils. “you always smell so good” he mumbles against your skin. you gasp as he flips you both over, you head bouncing onto the pillow. his entire body laid on top of you. “matt i can’t sleep like this, my legs might go numb” you laugh.

you felt him shrug, “i don’t care” he says. you remove your hand from his head to try reaching for your phone. matt’s head snapped up with a scowl on his face. “i gotta text-“ you were cut off as he takes your phone and tosses it to the bedside table. “text her tomorrow” he says as he takes your hand and places it back onto his head.

you laugh again, “matt you’re insane”. he didn’t respond but instead nestled his head right onto your stomach as his other creeps under your shirt. you didn’t care as you felt the weight of his hand under your bra, you knew there was no sexual intention behind it. as your eyes drooped down, you knew that you were going to be pissed with yourself in the morning.

[shitsndgiggs]

The reader and kenan have a daughter whos 2 and she tells them she wants a sister to play dolls with kenan tells her “me and mommy will see what we can do” and he gets all smirky to you whispering dirty things in ur ear .

SISTER REQUEST - KENAN YILDIZ

Your daughter wants a sister

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, the kind of morning where everything seemed to slow down. Kenan, our two-year-old daughter, Ayla, and I were lounging in the living room.

Ayla was sitting on the floor, surrounded by her favorite dolls, chattering away in her sweet little voice as she played with them.

Kenan was scrolling through his phone, occasionally looking up to watch Ayla or share a soft smile with me.

It was one of those moments where everything felt right, and the happiness in the room was palpable.

Out of nowhere, Ayla looked up from her dolls, her big eyes filled with curiosity. “Mommy?” she asked, holding up her favorite doll. “I want a sister.”

Kenan and I froze for a second, exchanging surprised glances before both of us burst into laughter. "A sister?" I asked, smiling down at her. "Where did you get that idea, sweetie?

She nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. “Yeah! A sister to play dolls with me. We can have tea parties!”

I tried to keep my composure, but the innocence in her request made me want to scoop her up and smother her with kisses.

Kenan, on the other hand, had a different reaction. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, clearly trying to hide the mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He leaned back on the couch, arms behind his head as he looked at me with that signature look of his—playful and a little too confident. "Well, Ayla," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "me and mommy will see what we can do."

I shot him a look, narrowing my eyes, but Ayla didn’t pick up on the underlying tone in his voice. She just giggled and continued playing with her dolls, happy with Kenan’s response.

But Kenan wasn’t done. Oh, no. He slid closer to me on the couch, leaning in so Ayla couldn’t hear, his lips brushing against my ear. “Maybe we should get started on that sister tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "You know... after she goes to bed."

I rolled my eyes, fighting the blush creeping up my cheeks. "Kenan," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, but he didn’t back down.

His hand moved to my thigh, squeezing gently as he leaned in even closer, his lips just grazing the skin beneath my ear. “Just think about it, babe,” he murmured, his tone taking on that deeper, huskier quality that always made my stomach do flips. “You, me... making another baby...”

I swatted his hand away playfully, glancing over at Ayla, who was still fully immersed in her tea party, oblivious to the conversation happening above her head. “Kenan, stop,” I whispered, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest, clearly enjoying how flustered I was getting.

“What? It’s not a bad idea,” he continued, his fingers tracing small circles on my thigh. “Ayla wants a sister, and I’m more than willing to make that happen for her... and you.”

I bit my lip, trying to focus on anything but how good his voice sounded when he was being suggestive like this. “We are not discussing this in front of her,” I hissed, but it was getting harder to ignore the heat rising between us.

Kenan leaned in again, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered “Come on Askim, you look so sexy pregnant”

"Kenan!" I half-whispered, half-giggled, pushing him away again, my face fully flushed by now.

He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop... for now,” he said, sitting back with a smug grin, his hand still resting on my thigh as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“But I’m serious, babe. We could give her a sister... or maybe a brother,” he added with a wink.

I shook my head, still trying to hide my smile. "You're impossible."

Kenan just grinned wider, leaning back against the couch. "And you love me for it."

Before I could respond, Ayla looked up at us again, completely oblivious to the tension between me and Kenan.

She clutched her doll tighter, her little face lighting up with excitement. “So I get a sister soon?” she asked innocently, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Kenan and I both laughed, and I reached down to stroke her hair. “We’ll see, sweetie,” I said gently, trying to steer the conversation away from Kenan’s less-than-innocent suggestions.

Kenan, though, wasn’t one to let things go so easily. He leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against my ear again, sending another shiver down my spine as he whispered, “Sooner than she thinks.”

I shot him a glare, but the smile tugging at the corner of my lips ruined any attempt at being serious.

“Just you wait,” he added, giving my thigh one last squeeze before turning his attention back to Ayla. "Daddy’s going to make it happen."

[latin5mamii]

competition

warnings: cuteness (my heart literally melt)

genre:fluff; kylianxfem!reader

summary: Kylian can't stand kitten videos anymore, so what's better than actually gifting you one?

author's note: I’m really going to miss seeing our little croissant play for the next three weeks! It’s just so sad and i want to cry. Every time I watch him on the pitch, I find myself literally ADMIRING him , and honestly, it’s starting to worry me about my mental health...

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩

You’ve been dreaming about adopting a kitten for what feels like forever—weeks of obsessively sending Kylian video after video of fluffy kittens, each with the same unspoken message: “I need one.”

He’s honestly not sure how this kitten craze of yours even started. Maybe it was that time you found a kitty on the street and immediately dropped to your knees, practically begging him to take it home with you. He still remembers the way your face fell when you found out the kitten already had an owner. Ever since then, you’ve been on a mission.

It’s gotten kind of relentless. At first, Kylian thought it was cute, how every few hours you’d send him another kitten clip with heart eyes and a not-so-subtle, “Look at this one! Isn’t it adorable?” But now, it’s reached a point where every time his phone dings, he knows it’s another video of a kitten doing something cute, followed by your predictable "I want one so bad."

The man can only take so much.

And for Kylian, saying no to you is basically impossible. He could ignore the hints for a while, but the way you light up whenever the topic of kittens comes up? Yeah, there’s no way he’s letting this one slide much longer.

“Amour,” Kylian’s deep, playful voice echoes through your temporary apartment as he closes the door behind him. You barely glance up from your phone, lost in yet another kitten video that you’ll definitely be sending him in a few minutes.

But his tone catches your attention. There’s something different in it—something secretive.

“Amour,” he repeats, this time a bit more mischievous. “I have a surprise for you.”

That’s all it takes. Your heart skips a beat, and you scramble to your feet, tossing your phone onto the couch without a second thought. You rush down the hallway toward him, excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Kylian, what is it? What’s going on?” you ask breathlessly, practically bouncing on your toes. You’re not great with surprises, mainly because your curiosity knows no bounds, and Kylian knows that all too well.

He grins, clearly enjoying your impatience. “Patience, chérie,” he teases, holding his hands behind his back. “Close your eyes first.”

You let out an exaggerated groan but obey, squeezing your eyes shut. “You know I hate this, right?”

He chuckles, and you can hear him moving closer. “I know. But you’ll love this.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re going to explode from anticipation. Then, just as you’re about to cheat and peek, you hear it—a tiny, delicate meow.

Your eyes snap open before Kylian can even tell you to, and your breath catches in your throat. In his arms, nestled against his chest, is the most adorable, tiny kitten you’ve ever seen. Its fur is a mix of cream and gray, and its big, round blue eyes blink up at you with curiosity.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth as you stare in disbelief.

Kylian laughs softly, clearly proud of himself as he watches your reaction. “I couldn’t handle the constant kitten videos anymore,” he teases, shifting the tiny bundle of fur in his arms so you can get a better look. “So I figured I’d just… bring you one.”

You’re speechless, your hands trembling as you reach out to take the kitten from him. It’s so small, so delicate, and it lets out the tiniest purr as soon as it’s nestled in your arms, pressing its little head against your chest. 

“I love you,” you murmur, though you’re not entirely sure whether you’re saying it to Kylian or the kitten. Maybe both.

“I know,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But do you love me more than the kitten?”

You giggle, shaking your head as you hold the kitten closer. “Well, the kitten is pretty cute. You’ve got some competition now.”

He feigns offense, raising an eyebrow as if wounded, but the act doesn’t last long. Watching you tenderly cradle the tiny kitten in your lap, gently stroking its soft fur, his heart can’t help but melt.“So… have you thought of a name yet? Or are you just going to call it ‘kitten’ forever?”

You look down at the tiny fluff ball in your lap. A name? You hadn’t even gotten that far in your daydreams.

“Hm, I don’t know… I kind of like ‘kitten,’” you joke, earning a groan from Kylian. “No, seriously! Look at this face. It’s like pure kitten energy.”

“Amour, we are not calling it ‘kitten,’” Kylian says, though he can’t help but smile.

You tap your chin playfully, as if deep in thought, then look up at Kylian with a soft smile. “I think I need to really take my time with this,” you say, your tone serious but with a hint of teasing. “It’s a big decision, and I don’t want to rush it.”

Kylian raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re telling me we need to schedule a whole naming ceremony for this kitten?”

“Obviously,” you reply with a grin, gently stroking the kitten’s fur. “It’s an important choice. I’ll need some time… and maybe a little inspiration.”

Kylian leans in, his voice playful. “Oh? And how do you plan on finding this inspiration, chérie?”

You tilt your head and flash him a warm smile. “By cuddling with my two favorite babies,” you say softly, looking between him and the kitten. “That should give me all the inspiration I need.”

Kylian’s expression softens instantly, his eyes sparkling as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Your two babies, huh?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and affectionate.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning into him as you settle against his chest. “My big baby and my little baby. Both equally important.”As you lean into Kylian’s embrace, you watch the tiny kitten stir slightly before making its way to his stomach. With a delicate hop, it settles right on top of him, curling into a tiny ball, its soft purring almost harmonizing with the rise and fall of Kylian’s breathing.

You can’t help but smile, feeling your heart practically melt at the sight. There’s something about seeing Kylian, this towering, athletic man, with such a delicate creature nestled on his chest that makes the moment even sweeter.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. “Look at her.”

Kylian glances down at the little fluff ball, a small chuckle escaping him. “She’s already making herself at home,” he says softly, his fingers lightly grazing the kitten’s fur. “Can’t say I blame her, though. I’m pretty comfortable, right?”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩

[babyfoxflower]

The Hunter and the Hunted

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

*Disclaimer: This story is an AU and does not follow Hellaverse canon. Alastor is pretty much just a hetero, if this offends you in anyway, then I suggest you block me and go on your way.*

Synopsis: This the story of Alastor and the love of his life, his huntress, the charming Y/n Rosier. A rare beauty out on the bayou, his heart is instantly stolen by her. He’ll do anything for his beloved, even if that includes murder.

Story Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Violence, Blood, Hunting, Murder, Cannibalism, Mentions of Child Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, 1920s Attitudes Towards Women

Chapter One next chapter

Alastor looked up at the now darkening sky. It was getting late and the only thing he managed to find on his hunt were a few measly rabbits that he stuffed into his hunting sack to make carrying multiple of them easier.

“At least we can make a stew out of these,” the disappointment clear in his voice.

He was hoping he’d find a nice big stag to bring home. His mother was quite fond of venison, and even had a special jambalaya recipe that included it. But he knew what ever she made would be delicious.

He took off his glasses and gave them a quick cleaning, he forgot his cleaning cloth at home and had to use his shirt. A bad habit he knew, but it was better than nothing.

He straightened them back onto his face, “Alright, time to go home.”

He started his way back, humming to distract himself from the lousy feeling in his chest.

“GOD DAMNIT!!!” A voice yelled from deeper in the forest.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks.

That sounds like a lady. I wonder if she needs help.

His gentleman nature would not allow him to ignore a damsel in distress, so he set off in the direction of the voice.

“FOR HEAVENS SAKE! MOVE YOU DAMN STAG!”

Alastor was taken aback when he finally found the source of the noise. It was a woman alright, but a woman who did not match the voice that was coming from her mouth.

She was so beautiful, that Alastor almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen such a lovely creature in all of his twenty years of living. He blinked his eyes a few times to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Please, move,” a little whimper escaped from the lady, which snapped him back to reality.

She seemed to be trying to pull a stag with what looked like a makeshift pulling device made out of rope and twigs.

“Excuse me, Miss. Do you need some help with that?” Alastor asked her, while approaching slowly as to not frighten her.

She jumped at the sudden noise before quickly turning her head around to see who was there.

“Oh, thank god! Yes please, Mister. Could you please help me if it’s not too much trouble?” A look of relief on her pretty face.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’m always willing to help out a lady,” he smiled kindly.

“You’re too kind, Mister! I was scared that I would never be able to get this thing back, haha.”

“May I ask how you ended up in this predicament? Did you find this stag dead?” He queried.

“I shot this stag myself,” she motioned her head to the rifle in her hand that he somehow managed to not notice until she pointed it out.

Hmm, must have been too distracted by her beauty.

“Ah I see. Please forgive me, Sweetheart. I didn’t notice your gun. And might I also ask about this contraption?” He pointed to the device.

“Oh! I just threw it together, I thought it would make it easier for me to move this damn thing, but it did nothing,” she glared at it.

Alastor shook his head, “You ladies are quite clever, far more clever than men. But sometimes, however, you need a man’s strength,” he said while easily lifting the large animal over his shoulder.

She blushed, marveling at him, at how strong he was, “I can’t argue with that.”

She led the way to her house, making small talk.

“So, what’s your name, Mister?” She asked, smiling softly.

He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten to introduce himself, his mother would scold him if she was here.

“Alastor. Alastor Hartfelt. And what might your name be, my dear?”

“Y/n Rosier. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alastor!”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. I assure you that the pleasure is all mine,” he replied.

Y/n blushed, she had rarely been called beautiful by anyone outside of her family.

“You’re quite beautiful, yourself! I’ve never seen anyone with such a pretty complexion before, and your eyes, they’re such a lovely light brown, not to mention your chestnut hair…did I just say that out loud?”

Nice going, Y/n! You probably freaked the gorgeous man out!

Alastor was the blushing mess now, his heart pounded inside his chest. He even nearly dropped the deer.

Me? She thinks I’m beautiful? Why does that make me feel both so happy and shy at the same time? Pull yourself together, Alastor!

But he quickly regained his composure, “You did, haha! Thank you, my dear, most people don’t compliment my appearance.”

“Well, they should! Such a handsome man deserves to know it.”

They continued to converse. He told her about his mother and her cooking, how there was no one who could make better food. She told him how she had to do all the cooking and housework, because of how frail her mother was.

She talked about her three little sisters, how much of angels they were. Though she admits that it’s hard having to act almost like their mother.

“I’m their big sister, not their mother. I just sometimes wish that Mama would feel better enough one day to actually be our mother again. That’s a terrible thing to say, isn’t it? I’m sorry for going on about my problems.”

“No, your feelings are valid. And you’re correct, you’re not their mother. I understand your frustration. My mother sometimes treats me like I’m still seven years old.”

“Are you her only child?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s it then. You’re her baby! Of course she doesn’t want to let go of your childhood. But I also understand your frustration.”

He knew that. But it was nice hearing out of her mouth, she made it sound all the sweeter. He loved his mother. She was a kind soul, not a gentle soul by any means, but a kind one. Y/n seemed to be both kind and gentle.

“I want to be my Mama’s baby again, but I haven’t been that since the first of my little sisters were born,” she looked thoughtfully out into the distance.

“Well, one day you’ll have a husband to take care of you.”

“Yes, until I have a baby and then this whole thing will just repeat itself.”

“You don’t have to have a baby.”

“Hmm, what do you mean?”

“You can be married without having to have children. I know if I ever get married, unless my wife really wants children, we’ll probably never have them. Not that I don’t like children or anything like that but I can’t see myself as a father.”

Y/n stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. But then she smiled, “I don’t want children either! I wish more men thought like you, Sugar. But I know once I get married, I’ll be expected to birth many children and keep my husband’s blood line going.”

Alastor looked at the tops of the trees, “That’s the thing, I couldn’t care less about ‘continuing my blood line.’ In fact, I think it should just die with me.”

“Why?”

“I hate my father.”

“Oh. I didn’t care for mine either.”

Y/n then changed to more lighthearted topics. Going on about her hobbies outside of doing housework. It turned out she played the piano and sang just like he did. Of course, her piano was an old hand-me-down going back generations. But it played just fine.

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding as walked beside her. He was so charmed by her. Her looks, her kindness, the way her nose wrinkled up when she laughed. It was actually kind of overwhelming. Sure, he interacted with beautiful women before, but something was different about her.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was almost like she had bewitched him in the best possible way.

Little did he know that she was equally as charmed by him as he was by her. She loved the formal way he spoke, how much of gentleman he was, how bright his smile was. It gave her butterflies in her stomach.

Finally, they reached her house. It was a one-story cabin with a little picket fence surrounding it. Suddenly, three adorable little girls came running to Y/n. She got on her knees and embraced them.

“Why were you gone so long, Y/n?”

“We were worried.”

“We missed you.”

“I know, I know I was gone for far too long! I missed you little ones too,” a motherly tone in her voice.

Alastor smiled, “What cute little girls.”

They looked up at him and then back to their older sister, their eyes asking if it was okay to talk to him.

“My little darlings, this is Mister Alastor. He helped me bring home that big stag,” she pointed to the dead animal.

They turned to him and smiled, “Thank you, Mister Alastor!”

“It was my pleasure, dears.”

Y/n got up, “Come on, I’ll show you where to put the deer,” she turned to him.

She led him to a shack behind the house, it was full of tools for gutting and skinning. In the middle was a table, she told him to place it on there.

“I cannot thank you enough! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to feed my family. Thank you so much, Alastor!”

“Please, Sweetheart, again it was no trouble at all! I’m glad I could be of assistance to you and your family.”

The tallest of the little girls came up to him, “Excuse me, Mister Alastor. Will you be joining us for dinner?” Her eyes full of sweet innocence.

Y/n’s face lit up, “Yes, why don’t you join us! It’s the least we can do to repay you.”

“Thank you kindly for the offer, but I have to get home to my Mother. She’s also counting on me to get dinner home,” he motioned to the sack tied to his belt, “Perhaps another time though?” He looked from the little girl over to Y/n.

“Of course! Stop by anytime! You’re always welcome here now,” her smile couldn’t possibly be any sweeter.

Alastor tipped his cap, “Adieu, my dear. And adieu to you, little dears.”

“Adieu, Alastor!” Y/n waved to him.

“Adieu, Mister Alastor!” The little girls said in unison, waving their little arms.

I hope I see him again soon.

“He was handsome, are you going to marry him, Y/n?” Her littlest sister asked.

“She’s not going to marry someone she just met, Louise!” The middle one said.

“Now, Marie don’t shout at Louise. But no, I’m not going to marry him.”

“Awww. You two would be so cute together!”

Y/n pinched the girl’s cheek.

“Annalise, come help me prepare for supper.”

“Yes, Y/n!” The oldest came running to her big sister’s side.

Alastor got home just before sunset, much to the chagrin of his mother.

“Boy, you better have a good reason for being home so late! I was getting worried,” she looked at him sharply from her rocker.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I brought home some rabbits for dinner,” he kissed her cheek.

“It took that long to catch some rabbits?” She said teasingly, taking the sack from her son.

“I met a girl,” was all he said before going upstairs to wash up.

———————————————————————

Alastor lay awake in his bed that night. He stared at the ceiling, counting the wooden panels. He often had insomnia that caused him only to get three to five hours of sleep.

“Y/n,” he whispered.

I wonder if she has trouble sleeping. Or is she someone who sleeps like a baby? I wonder if she snores, I bet it’s cute if she does.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He had just met her that day but already she was causing him to lose sleep.

Is she a side sleeper? Would she mind if wrapped my arms around her waist and hold her close? What if I stole a kiss or two? Would she wake up with an adorable annoyed face?

Alastor grinned just thinking about what it would be like….

What if I kept kissing her all the way down from her lips to her neck? Would she moan at the sensation? What if I nibbled and sucked at her neck? Would she like it? I bet she would. I bet she would beg for more.

What a sight that would be. But he had to stop such thoughts, since did not feel like cleaning his sheets the next day.

He turned to more wholesome thoughts. Like what kind of food did she like? Would she like it if he cooked for her? Did she like venison or did she just hunt it out of necessity? Does she like jambalaya?

What a silly question, everyone in Louisiana likes jambalaya.

He thought about what it would be like coming home to her everyday. Her sweet smile, her warmth. Her wonderful laughter.

“Alright, I have to see her again soon. Or else I’m going to go mad.”

He decided to visit her next week, he figured it would be enough time in between. He didn’t want to come off desperate.

Finally, he rolled over on his side and managed to get a few hours of shuteye. In the morning, his mother would shake him awake and tell him to get ready for church. Then he’d tell her that he’s a grown man and doesn’t have to go to church. She would then do the sign of the cross, and cry out to the Holy Mother to please bring her sweet little boy back.

He loved his mother a lot, however the devoted Catholic side her was something he could do without. But of course he would go to church with her, because again he loves her. And would do anything for the people he loves.

[storytowrite]

|Between us ~ Han Jisung|

Paring: Han Jisung x Y/N

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: panic attack, 18+, drunk, knife, overprotective, scary prank, insistence

Word Count: 8065

Masterlist

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For as long as you could remember, Han had been a constant in your life. Your older brother's best friend, Chan, has been at your house almost every day. But to you, he wasn't just your brother's friend - Han was someone who made your heart beat faster and your thoughts wander to fantasies that couldn't see the light of day.

You couldn't stop thinking about him. Every time he came home, it was a special opportunity for you to look your best. You carefully chose your clothes, did your hair, and took care of every detail of your appearance as if your life depended on it. Every day, you hoped that he would finally pay attention to you, that maybe he would notice you in a different way than as his friend's little sister.

But Han seemed completely unaware of your feelings. He joked with you, ruffled your hair, and smiled in that disarming way that warmed and broke your heart at the same time. Whenever you tried to get close to him, your brother would immediately react, banishing you to your room or taking Han to his, as if they couldn't talk freely in your presence.

It was frustrating that everyone around you was aware of your feelings - everyone, except for the two most important people. Your brother, although usually smart and observant, remained blind to what was happening right under his nose. Han, on the other hand... Well, maybe he was just too absorbed in his own affairs to notice your timid attempts to gain his attention.

Every day you tried to be close, hoping that maybe something would change. When Han laughed at your jokes, when he asked about your affairs, or even when your eyes met by chance - each of these moments was like a small spark of hope for you. However, every time your brother stepped in to "protect" his friend from your attempts to make contact, that spark faded, leaving you disappointed.

You were sitting comfortably on the couch in the living room, with a loose bun on your head, in sweatpants, in which you usually spent time at home. Suddenly, you heard the front door open, but you didn't react, because at this hour your brother was coming home.

"Hi Y/n." You heard a familiar voice from behind you, which made your heart jump into your throat.

It was Han. You didn't expect him, and in the state you were in, you were in no way ready for a meeting. Your hair tied up quickly, sweatpants - all of this seemed unimaginably inappropriate now. Terrified, you decided to immediately escape from the room to avoid this awkward situation.

However, your clumsiness made itself known. When you tried to escape, you accidentally hit your leg on the edge of the table. Pain shot through your leg, and you fell to the ground, pressing your hand to the sore spot. At that moment, Chan burst out laughing. For him the whole situation was incredibly funny, but for you - humiliating. Lying on the floor, you tried to hide your face in your hands, but Han had already approached you, visibly worried.

"Is everything okay?" He asked with concern in his voice, crouching down next to you.

That was the moment when you realized that you could take advantage of this situation. With a grimace on your face, you tried to get up from the ground, but you pretended that your leg hurt so much that you were unable to. Han immediately decided to help you. His hands gently supported you as you tried to stand on your feet. However, despite his help, you pretended that every step was a challenge for you. When you stood in front of the stairs, you grabbed your leg and moaned quietly.

Without thinking, Han lifted you into his arms. Your heart began to beat faster and your cheeks flushed. Chan rolled his eyes, clearly disgusted by the whole situation, but Han ignored him. You were in his arms, and the feeling was so wonderful that you stopped caring about your brother. You snuggled up to his chest, absorbing the warmth of his body and the scent that emanated from him. You couldn't believe that this was actually happening - Han was carrying you up the stairs like you were the most precious treasure.

When you reached your room, Han gently laid you on the bed. You could still see the concern in his eyes, although he didn't say a word. Without unnecessary comments, he turned and left to join Chan and watch the game with him.

You lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling and trying to gather your thoughts. Your heart was beating like crazy, and a smile didn't leave your face. You felt like you were in seventh heaven - Han, your silent object of sighs, carried you in his arms to your room. It was like a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

You didn't leave your room for the rest of the afternoon, still reliving the situation that had recently happened. You closed your eyes and tried to recall the image of Han carrying you, his scent, his strong arms. Every time you couldn't stop your quiet whimps, and when they were too loud you covered your mouth with a pillow.

Finally, when it got dark you left your room to get a snack. In the kitchen however you found Han again, who along with your brother were also eating something. Before they could notice you you went back to your room, changed into better clothes and combed your hair. Only then did you go down to the kitchen, where the boys were still sitting.

"Hey Han I thought you only came for the game." You said reaching for a glass.

Chan looked at you with surprise when he noticed that you had changed.

"Well that's how it was supposed to be but we decided that I’m staying the night. I hope you don't mind." Jisung smiled at you gallantly.

"She has nothing to say. " Your brother replied before you could say anything, you just looked at him with anger. Lightning flashed from your eyes.

"No, Han, of course I have no problem with that. " You replied, leaning on the counter. You graced him incredibly but you couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with him.

"Okay Jisung let's go, after all, a horror movie marathon won't watch itself. " Chris said, taking the popcorn out of the microwave.

When you heard that the boys would be watching, an idea for the next hours spent with Han was born in your head. However, the thought of horror movies scared you a little, because you were a terrible coward.

You grabbed something to eat and went to your room. You had to think about all the pros and cons of watching horror movies with the boys. A big plus was the fact that it was the perfect idea for cuddling up to Jisung. After all, who would say no to a scared little Y/n. You took a few deep breaths and decided to go downstairs to the boys.

Just when the first disturbing sounds from the screen started to fill the room, you joined them, sitting down next to Jisung. Your brother was very surprised by your appearance but didn't say anything, going back to watching the movie.

You were nervous from the beginning, and every rustle or sudden appearance of something on the screen gave you shivers. During the first minutes of the movie, you started covering your eyes with your hands, cowering on the couch. Han and Chan, seeing your terror, started to laugh at your reactions. With irritation and fear, you snuggled up to Han, or grabbed his hand, as if you were looking for shelter from the nightmares on the screen. Han, at first was surprised by your reaction, later he didn't mind it - he even felt a little proud that it was his presence that could calm you down.

After the first movie was over, it was already dark outside the window, and the only source of light was a street lamp and the TV screen. You were terrified, even though you watched half of the movie through your fingers. Chan, as your older brother, came up with an idea to scare you even more. They discussed the plan with Han in whispers and decided to put it into action.

"I'm going to get some new popcorn." Chan said, getting up from the couch.

"I'll quickly go to the toilet and be right back." Han added, also getting up from the couch.

You were left alone in the room, hidden under a blanket, you were glad that the boys had left the light on for you.

Minutes passed. The room was filled with quiet, blood-curdling sounds coming from the TV. Time seemed to pass slower and slower, and you began to feel more and more uncomfortable. You called out to the boys once, then twice, but no one answered. The silence that fell on the house was strangely thick, as if an invisible horror hung in the air.

A few more minutes passed, and the tension grew. You felt your heart start to beat faster and faster. Suddenly, the light went out. Darkness filled the room, and low, ominous sounds were still coming from the TV screen. You felt cold shivers run down your spine, and every second in the darkness seemed like an eternity.

"Han? Chan? Guys?" You called out louder, this time with a clear tremor in your voice, but the only response was silence.

Suddenly, something outside the window caught your eye. On the other side of the glass, against the faint light of the street lamp, a hooded figure appeared. It stood still, its face hidden in shadow, only its silhouette clearly outlined in the semidarkness. You felt your heart jump into your throat, your hands shaking as you instinctively grabbed the corner of the blanket, wanting to cover yourself as much as possible.

The hooded figure slowly raised his hand, and you could have sworn you saw something glinting in his hand - maybe a knife? Or something even worse? In an instant, without warning, the figure lunged forward and smashed hard into the window. The loud impact rang out like a gunshot, and the glass shook. You screamed loudly, jumping away from the window, your heart beating like crazy.

Han, standing outside the window, took off his hood and began to laugh, looking at your terrified face. Chan reappeared in the room, laughing along with Han, pleased with the effect of their joke.

But then Han noticed something that worried him immediately. You didn't stop screaming, your screams filled the room, loud and horrible as if someone was hurting you. Your breathing became fast, shallow and chaotic. You could barely catch your breath between the terrified screams. You tried to back up, but your legs wouldn't obey you and your eyes seemed wide open, as if you couldn't see what was happening around you anymore. Tears were streaming down your face, flooding your throat. Panic was growing, and your body began to shake as if you were frozen to the bone.

Han stopped laughing immediately.

"Y/n! It's me! Han!" He shouted so you could hear him through the glass, but his words didn't seem to reach you.

When he saw you starting to slide to the floor, he paled.

"Shit, I think we overdid it!" He said, feeling panic rising inside him. He rushed to the door, running into the house.

In the room, Chan was still laughing, although more nervously, looking at your face.

"What, coward? Were you really that scared?" He threw, but uncertainty appeared in his voice. When Han ran into the room and saw you in such a state, his heart sank.

"Y/n, it's just a joke... Are you okay, can you hear me?" He said with a trembling voice, trying to approach you, but your breathing was getting more and more uneven, and your eyes were clouded with fear. Seeing your reaction, Chan stopped laughing.

"Hey, we're sorry, really! We didn't mean to scare you that much..." Your brother continued with a growing sense of guilt and fear that something might happen to you.

When Han touched you, he felt your cold skin. He decided to hug you tightly, trying to warm up your icy body, feeling you shiver in his arms.

"Calm down, we're here, it's just us... everything's okay." He whispered soothingly, although he himself felt his heart beating with anxiety.

You looked like you were suffocating and about to faint. Chan, your brother, went to get another blanket to cover you, and Han didn't leave your side for a moment. He kept rocking you soothingly, not letting you out of his embrace.

"Calm down Y/n, it's just me, you have nothing to be afraid of. I would never hurt you. Shh, my sunshine. I won't leave you, try to calm down. Take a deep breath, please... Fuck Y/n, breathe." He was really scared and didn't know what to do.

Despite everything, he didn't stop talking to you and calming you down. His words barely reached you, but his soothing tone and his closeness slowly started to calm you down. After a while, you started to catch your breath, although you were still terrified.

"Okay Y/n, calm down, everything's okay. We're here for you." He continued, gently stroking your head.

Your breathing evened out, and the tears stopped falling. With each passing minute it was getting better and better, and you were getting back to normal. Despite this, Han didn't stop taking care of you, he didn't let go of you the whole time. His hands only left your body when you got up from the floor on your own. Both boys had a huge sense of guilt in their eyes as they looked at you wrapped in a thick blanket.

"That...That wasn't funny." You finally managed to squeeze a few words out of your throat.

"We know Y/n and we're sorry." Chan said, approaching you, but you moved away from him slightly, offended by this mean joke.

"We really feel bad...I'm sorry." Han added, lowering his gaze as if he couldn't look at the sky now, because the feeling of shame was too big.

"Idiots..." You threw, leaving the room.

You went to your bedroom and immediately laid down in your bed. You had had enough emotions for one night. Even though you looked calm on the outside, your heart was still pounding inside. You covered yourself with the blanket and closed your eyes, but as soon as you closed them, you opened them again, and your breathing quickened again. You saw the situation that had happened a moment ago again, but instead of Han, a strange man was standing outside your window.

You turned on the light, covered yourself with the blanket and curled up tightly into a ball. You don't know when, but tears started rolling down your cheeks again. You were sobbing like a scared little dog. It was loud enough for your brother and Han to hear, because they quickly ran into your room, almost tripping over themselves.

"Y/n, is something wrong?" Han asked, coming closer. You could hear the concern in his voice.

You wiped your tears, but your hands were still shaking.

"I can't sleep... I'm scared." You replied, looking at them with fear. "Will you stay with me?" You added after a moment, your voice almost pleading.

They both looked at each other and then at you. Their faces expressed understanding. Han sat down on the chair next to the bed, and Chan went to the kitchen to make you some hot cocoa. He always knew how to calm you down - your favorite cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows.

For a moment, the room was silent, broken only by your heavy breathing. Han was silent, not knowing what to say, but his presence was enough comfort for you. You finally broke the silence. 

“Han…” You caught his attention. “Can I cuddle you?” You asked quietly, pushing your lower lip forward in a gesture that was supposed to express your uncertainty.

Han, confused at first, nodded. He knew that it was because of him that you felt so scared now – the situation that had just happened was more dramatic than he had initially expected. He nodded for you to make room for him on the bed, and then he laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around you gently.

You snuggled into his chest, feeling his beating heart soothe your nerves. You slowly began to calm down, your breathing slowing down, and your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The warmth of his body enveloped you like a warm blanket, and his heartbeat was like a lullaby. After a moment, you fell into a deep sleep, leaving all your fears behind.

Chan returned with cocoa and stood in the doorway, seeing the two of you hugged. His face clouded with dissatisfaction. He was about to shout to separate you, but Han signaled him to be quiet. Chan could barely contain his irritation, put his mug on the desk, and then came closer to communicate with Han in a quiet whisper.

“Will you stay here?” He asked in a low voice.

Han nodded, his gaze still on you.

“Yes, I will. I don’t want her to get scared if she wakes up alone at night. It’s our fault that she’s scared.” He answered with complete seriousness.

Chan sighed, not satisfied, but turned off the light as Han asked. Then he sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room, ready to watch for the rest of the night. Despite everything, he wasn’t going to let anything scare you again. He didn’t want to see more tears on your cheeks. Minutes, maybe hours, passed, and you all fell asleep.

As dawn slowly began to creep through the curtains, Han opened his eyes and looked at you. You were still sleeping peacefully, your face nestled against his chest. He smiled slightly at how innocent you looked. Chan, curled up in the armchair, was also asleep, and there was no trace of worry on his face.

Han looked at you once more, hesitating for a moment, unable to resist gently, as if on instinct, running his finger over your cheek. Your skin was soft, warm, and you seemed so vulnerable and calm. You were so... adorable. Han felt something he couldn't quite define - a mixture of delight and fear of what could happen if this lasted any longer. His heart began to beat faster, and his thoughts began to race. Suddenly, a sound from the other side of the room tore him from his thoughts. Chan, your brother, had just opened his eyes. His face immediately took on an expression of displeasure when he saw you together.

Seeing Chan's face, Han quickly removed his hand from your cheek, waking you up. You rubbed your eyes lazily, trying to wake up.

"Great, you're awake, now get your hands off Han." Chan growled, firmly.

Before you could answer, Chan gently but firmly pushed you away from Han, then grabbed his hand.

“Han has to go, now.” He added, pulling Han out of bed and pushing him towards the door. Han didn’t even have time to respond before the door slammed shut in his face.

You, on the other hand, sat on the bed for a moment, confused and trying to understand what had just happened. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and a smile slowly appeared on your face as you realized that you had spent the entire night cuddled up to Han. In that moment, you felt a wave of excitement rush through your body. You squealed loudly, almost like a teenager, and began to squirm in place with joy. You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face. You were happy, very happy, you knew that you had to use this wonderful night to win Jisung over. After all, you should tell him your feelings.

______________

A week had passed since that situation, everything had returned to normal. The boys were still hanging out, and Han was once again ignoring you. You had tried to talk to him many times and confess your feelings to him, but your brother had always interrupted you.

Today, as usual, Jisung spent time with Chan. They were both sitting in your brother's room and playing on the console. However, you couldn't fully use this time, because you had to get ready for your friend's birthday party. There were going to be a lot of people there, so you had to look great.

You took a bath and started getting ready, so you were ready in less than two hours. Your dress was stunning - a deep shade of burgundy that perfectly matched your complexion. The delicate material fell softly on your figure, emphasizing your slender waist and gently flowing around your hips, ending just above your knees. Thin, shiny straps clung to your shoulders, and low-cut neckline added a dash of feisty edge to the whole look. Your hair, carefully styled, gently waved down your back, gleaming in the light of the lamp on your dressing table. You drew your lips in a strong shade of red that matched your dress, and your eyes were highlighted with a line of black eyeliner that brought out the depth of your gaze.

When you were ready, you headed to your brother's room. You had to ask him if he would agree to pick you up from the party. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and you could hear a familiar laugh from behind it. You entered without hesitation, immediately noticing Chan sitting at the computer, and Han next to him. Both were engrossed in the game, their faces illuminated only by the cool light of the monitor.

Han looked up first and immediately froze, as if he couldn't believe what he saw. His dark eyes widened in admiration, and an unconscious smile appeared on his face. His gaze swept over you from head to toe, as if he was trying to memorize every detail. You felt your heart beat faster at his reaction. That was what you wanted, you were supposed to attract attention.

“Chan, will you pick me up from Lisa’s today?” You asked confidently, knowing that your brother always agreed.

“At two o’clock and not a minute longer.” He replied without even taking his eyes off the screen.

You scowled, biting your lip slightly, and looked at Han, who was still staring at you. For a moment, you wanted to ask him something trivial, something that would break the silence. But before you could say anything, the sound of the doorbell interrupted your thoughts.

“It must be Yeji.” You said quickly, turning on your heel and heading towards the exit.

But before you closed the door, you threw one more look at Han, who was still looking at you with the same expression on his face, as if he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. You smiled slightly to yourself, feeling a strange satisfaction, and ran downstairs, where your friend was already waiting for you.

The party was in full swing, and the music was blaring from the speakers. You looked around the living room, which was full of familiar and unfamiliar faces. You felt free and happy at the moment, enjoying the energy of the people around you.

A few unfamiliar guys who noticed you started approaching you, offering you drinks and trying to strike up a conversation. They were polite and smiling, but you dismissed them with a single look. None of them could compare to Han, and your heart was busy and closed to any other attempts at flirting.

"Come on Y/n, relax and have a drink with us." Lisa laughed, handing you a glass with a colorful drink.

She raised an eyebrow, but you took the drink and took the first sip. You felt the tart taste of alcohol on your tongue and knew perfectly well that this was just the beginning of a great party. With each passing minute the atmosphere became more relaxed. Alcohol flowed through your veins, and the laughter of Lisa and other friends became louder and louder. You felt yourself slowly losing control of your body, but you still laughed and had fun, letting yourself be carried away by the moment.

In the meantime, the party moved outside, where the air was cooler. Music was blaring from the speakers set up on the terrace, and people were dancing in the glow of twinkling lights. You danced with Lisa, feeling how every move brought you incredible joy. Everything seemed perfect until a few guys approached you, who were clearly looking for some fun.

"Hello, beautiful girls. Maybe I can show you what a good time means." One of them said, smiling widely.

Lisa of course agreed, but you didn't know any of them so you had no intention of playing their little games.

“I'll let it go.” You said after you had carefully checked them out.

Unfortunately, one of them wasn't going to give up so easily. He was pushy and seeing that you were heavily intoxicated with alcohol, he decided to take advantage of it.

“Don't be like that. I'm sure you'll like it. I'll show you what real pleasure means.” He pressed, grabbing your hips.

You tried to walk away, constantly slapping his hands away, but the boy followed you. His hand tightened on your wrist as you walked away from him a little further.

“Leave me alone!” You shouted, hoping that someone from the party would help you, but everyone was too absorbed in the fun.

You didn't even have the strength to fight and defend yourself, the alcohol made you weaker than usual. The boy was very irritated by your stubbornness and became more aggressive. His hand tightened on your wrist and he pulled you closer to him.

“Come on, I know you want to have fun.” He hissed through clenched teeth, leaning over you.

You closed your eyes in fear, but suddenly you felt the pressure on your wrist disappear. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Han standing in front of you, and the unknown boy lying on the ground holding his cheek.

"Didn't you hear that she doesn't like it?" Han said, his voice stern.

The stranger looked at Han as if he wanted to object, but seeing his clenched fists, he immediately withdrew. Before the boy could get up, Jisung grabbed your hand and led you to the car. Jisung was very nervous, because he firmly put you in the passenger seat and fastened your seatbelt. Then he got in the car himself.

"Why didn't Chan come pick me up?" You asked, trying to focus on his face.

"Your brother drank as much as you did, so I came to pick you up. And I think I was perfectly on time." Han replied, his voice became soft, he looked at you one last time, wanting to make sure you were safe and sound and he drove home.

After a moment of travel, you felt a huge wave of warmth take over your body. Your heart sped up as did your breathing. You looked at Han and bit your lip - driving the car with slightly tousled hair he looked amazing. You felt a huge desire for him, you wanted to have him all to yourself.

Without taking your eyes off him, you reached out your hand towards him and placed it on his crotch. Han was very surprised by your behavior.

"I feel like I want to play a little more." You said, squeezing his penis through the material of his pants.

Han quickly pushed your hand away and pulled over to the side of the road.

"What are you doing Y/n?" He asked surprised, but you didn't answer and unbuckled your seatbelt, rising in the seat.

You grabbed his hand and before he could react, you placed it on your bare chest. The large neckline of your dress made things much easier, because all you had to do was lean over too much and both of your breasts were visible.

“Can you feel my heart beating at the sight of you?” You said, guiding his hand so he squeezed your breast. “That's what you do to me.” You added, but Han quickly removed his hand.

“Calm down Y/n, you're not yourself.” He tried to control you somehow, but you didn't stop insisting.

You moved to his seat and knelt astride him, which made your dress reveal your breasts. Han fought with himself not to look lower, his surprised gaze was fixed on your eyes. He didn't touch you, his hands lay idly along his body, while you threw yours around his neck.

You looked at each other in silence, no one dared to make another move. You carefully analyzed every millimeter of Han's face - you had never been this close. Time slowed down for you, you relished every second, every breath, every blink. Finally you decided to take one step further, you moved closer to Han with the intention of kissing him. However, the boy's hand appeared between your lips, covering them. "You're completely drunk, when you sober up you'll regret this." He said, moving you to the passenger seat and fastening your seatbelt again.

As soon as you sat back down in the passenger seat, your energy immediately dropped and before you could say anything, you fell asleep. Seeing you in such state, Jisung covered you with his sweatshirt and headed back towards your house. He tried to stay calm but his heart was pounding like crazy. He knew that you were drunk enough that you wouldn't remember this event, but the bigger problem was your brother, to whom Han decided not to tell anything about what happened in the car.

In the morning, you were woken up by the sunlight that was streaming into your room. You were immediately hit by a huge pain that was pulsating in your head. You definitely had a hangover and a serious one at that, you didn't even remember what happened yesterday at the party. Just the thought of how much alcohol you had to drink to be in such state made you feel sick.

You reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and went to the kitchen for a glass of cold water that was supposed to quench your thirst. The boys were already sitting downstairs, laughing and eating a delicious breakfast. When they noticed your arrival, Chan got up and brought you freshly made pancakes and a glass full of electrolytes from the kitchen.

"I think you might need them." He said, sneering.

You didn't say anything, just mumbled quietly under your breath, having absolutely no energy for anything else right now. You sat down at the table and started eating breakfast, massaging your aching temples. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember last night.

"You must have had a good time, because Han had to carry you home." Chan said rudely.

You looked with wide eyes at Jisung, who just laughed under his breath.

"You weren't much better either." He laughed at Chan, who nudged him lightly.

You, on the other hand, blushed red. You couldn't remember the fact that Han saw you in such a miserable state, drunk to the point that you couldn't stand on your own feet. You quickly ate and drank everything that was in front of you and ran to your room, hiding your face in the pillows.

"How were you supposed to confess your feelings to Han after something like that? Will he accept you after something like that?" A lot of thoughts flew through your head, thoughts whose main topic was Han.

For the next few days, you felt terribly embarrassed to show yourself in front of your crush. You tried not to leave your room when he came to your house. You had to sort everything out in your head. Finally, one day, you decided to pull yourself together and confess your feelings to him. You couldn't hold it in any longer, it was overwhelming you too much, you had to at least try.

You sat in the living room, nervously clenching your fingers around the edges of your favorite dress. You had been waiting for this moment for a few years. A few years of secret glances, laughter hidden behind friendly jokes and moments full of hope that became more and more unbearable with each passing day.

When you heard the key turning in the lock, your heart started beating like crazy. Chan and Han entered the house, laughing and full of energy after the match. They barely noticed your presence as they passed you, so absorbed in the memories of the match. You waited patiently, giving them time to calm down. You tried to calm your thoughts, but the longer you waited, the more it felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest.

Finally, Chan announced that he was going to take a shower, leaving you alone in the kitchen. You felt that this was the perfect time. You gathered the last of your courage and approached Han. You started the conversation by asking about the match - you wanted to buy some time. Han spoke passionately, his face lit up with mirth, but you could barely hear his words. When he asked what had been going on with you lately, because he noticed that I rarely saw you, you felt a warmth flood your face. You felt that you had to act now or never.

"Han, I have to tell you something," You blurted out before fear could take over.

Han fell silent and looked at you with interest, his face turning serious. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your shaking hands.

"I've liked you for years and I can't hide it anymore. I love you." The words spilled out of your mouth faster than you expected, almost merging into one sentence.

______________

A look of pure surprise appeared on Han's face. He looked at you with wide eyes, and you had the impression that time had stood still. He was silent, as if someone had stolen his tongue, and in his eyes you saw something between shock and confusion. The tension in the air grew with every second, until you finally couldn't hold it in any longer. You took a step forward, throwing your arms around his neck. You wanted to feel his closeness, to break this uncertainty.

For a moment Han stood still, but his eyes never left yours. Your heart was beating so loudly that you had the impression that the whole world could hear it. Finally, you felt his hands wrap around your waist, gently, hesitantly. You approached him, slowly closing your eyes, ready to connect your lips in the first, long-awaited kiss.

But then... Something wet and heavy landed on your head. Surprised, you opened your eyes and saw a wet towel that had just fallen on your face. Jisung quickly let go of your waist, and you felt anger rise inside you like a wave. You ripped the towel off your head with rage. Your heart was beating like crazy, and the blood was roaring in your ears, when suddenly, without warning, Chan lunged at Han with his fists. His scream echoed off the walls, penetrating you to the marrow of your bones.

"You have to get away from her!" He yelled, his face twisted with anger. "This is the end of our friendship! Get out of here and never show up in my house again!"

You tried to step in, to stop your brother, but Chan was crazy. His eyes were burning, and his voice was sharp as a knife. He didn't listen to you, he didn't look at you. With determination, he grabbed Han by the arm and literally threw him out the door, slamming it so hard that the walls shook.

As soon as the door closed, Chan turned to you. He was pissed, his breathing was rapid and his gaze full of accusations.

"I'm disappointed in you!" He blurted out, his voice full of anger. "You have no right to get close to him! You're too young for love, you don't even know what it means!"

You felt his words hit you like fists. Anger, disappointment, pain - everything mixed inside you into one big chaos.

"You don't understand anything, I love him!" You screamed, your words shaking with emotion but decisive. "I'm not a child anymore and I can do whatever I want!"

His face turned red and his jaw clenched even tighter. Your protests only fueled his anger.

"Go to your room and think about your behavior!" He growled, pointing his finger at the stairs.

"You're not my father so don't order me around... I hate you!" You screamed, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. You turned on your heel and ran to your room, slamming the door. You locked it and then collapsed onto your bed, choking on your tears.

Your shoulders were shaking and your emotions were swirling inside you, creating a storm you couldn't control. You could hear Chan pacing behind the door for a moment, but eventually everything quieted down. You were left alone with your anger, your wounded heart, and your pain.

Days passed, and you didn't want to leave your room, to avoid meeting Chan. Your brother had become almost a stranger to you after what had happened. You still remembered that evening - what he had said, how he had reacted to Han. Ever since you had argued that day, you had avoided him like the plague. Every time you felt the need to leave the house, you would escape through the window, feeling your heart speed up with every step outside. Chan had tried to reach you several times, asking you to come out, talking through the door, but you were adamant.

What's worse, Han had disappeared since that day. He hadn't even once shown up at your house, hadn't called you or Chan. The silence that reigned between you seemed to grow thicker with each passing day, and your heart ached more and more. You were afraid that everything was gone - your friendship, the hopes that had begun to sprout in your heart.

One day, unable to stay locked up any longer, you decided to go for a walk. The air outside was refreshing, and the warm rays of the setting sun caressed your face. You felt relieved, as if you had momentarily freed yourself from the burden you had been carrying for so long. You walked along the park, staring into the distance, where the sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon, spreading pink and orange streaks across the sky.

Suddenly, you heard your name. You turned around sharply, and your heart began to beat faster. Han was running towards you, looking nervous, but you saw something else in his eyes - determination.

"Hey." He said as he finally caught up with you, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry I was silent for so long. I had to sort everything out. Can we talk?”

You stood still, your heart pounding like crazy in your chest. What you had been holding in for days suddenly burst out. Tears welled up in your eyes and your voice began to tremble.

“Han…” You started, but before you could control yourself, the words spilled out of your mouth. “I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re only temporary. I swear I’ll get over you. Just please... don’t leave me.”

You were shaken, too lost in your emotions to understand what you had just said. Han looked at you, his face expressionless for a moment. Like he was fighting something he couldn’t come to terms with. Finally, he took a step forward and gently grabbed your hand.

“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want you getting over me? What if I don’t want these feelings to be only temporary?” His voice was quiet but firm. “That maybe I like you too?”

You froze. His words pierced through all your doubts, through all the pain you carried in your heart. You looked into his eyes, searching for answers in them, trying to understand if what you had just heard was true. His gaze was sincere, warm, full of hope. Han really felt it. Your heart was beating even faster now, you couldn’t find the words.

“Han... “ You whispered, not knowing what to say.

“I know Chan is against it.” He started again, taking another step towards you. His hand moved to your waist, and you felt how close he was. “But I care about you. About us.”

He didn’t give you time to answer. His lips gently touched yours, and in that kiss you felt everything – unspoken words, suppressed feelings, all his struggle and doubts that were now melting in the face of what he felt for you. The kiss was tender, as if he wanted you to understand that this wasn't just temporary. These weren't just passing emotions.

When he finally pulled away, your heart was still pounding, and your head was in chaos. You felt lost and certain at the same time. You knew that everything would change now.

"Han...I...I don't know what to say." You blurted out, lightly touching your lips, still not believing what had just happened.

"You don't have to say anything Y/n. I love you and I want to be with you." His voice was exceptionally calm, so you knew he wasn't lying.

You smiled at him and snuggled tightly into his chest. His heart was beating just as fast as yours. You both immersed yourself in this wonderful moment, snuggled up to each other. Nothing else mattered now except you. Your dream had come true, you were together. Only after a moment, when the first emotions had subsided, did you realize one small obstacle - your brother.

"Han." You tore the boy out of this wonderful moment. “What about Chan? What will we do if he finds out we’re together? You saw how he reacted to that situation, and then nothing even happened between us.” You were worried, a big complication that awaited you.

“We’ll handle it calmly. Let him calm down and in the meantime let’s hide, and when the right moment comes we’ll tell him about us.” Han assured you, stroking your cheek.

His words and touch made the weight fall off your heart and you stopped being so nervous. The love of your life confessed his feelings to you and that was what mattered now, nothing else, and you’ll get through any difficulties together.

____________

For the past few months, your life had picked up pace, although you still carefully hid it from your brother. The relationship with Han, which you had started to build in secret, was becoming more and more intense, and at the same time it gave you indescribable joy. It was more than just a crush - every moment spent together was special, full of laughter, closeness and warmth that filled your heart. The changes that had taken place in you were unmistakable, even Chan had begun to notice them. 

Han was like a ray of sunshine that brightened your everyday life, giving you the courage to be yourself. You stopped avoiding your brother, and your relationship, although still complicated, began to improve. Chan was surprised that you had suddenly become more open, and even started talking to him again. His suspicion grew with each passing day, but he didn't press, waiting for you to reveal what had caused this sudden metamorphosis. 

One day, when the sky was covered with gray clouds, Han invited you over, not wanting the weather to ruin another day. You used it as an opportunity to dress up, and the dress you chose gave you confidence. Chan noticed your efforts. Just as you were about to leave, your brother stopped you in the hallway.

"Where did you get all dressed up?" He asked suspiciously, glancing at your outfit.

"For a friend's birthday." You answered, feeling a lie slip through your lips and your heart beating faster. You quickly slipped out of the house before Chan could add anything.

At Han's, an evening full of peace and tenderness awaited you. You ordered food, and then you prepared dessert together, which you ate while watching a movie. Everything seemed so perfect, and the atmosphere between you carried the promise of something more. Your innocent kisses turned into something more intense, passionate. It was the first time you had experienced such closeness, and you were delighted with every moment.

“Stay for tonight.” Han suggested, and you agreed without hesitation.

You quickly texted Chan that you were staying at a friend's so he wouldn't have to worry. When you went to take a bath, Han handed you his shirt to use as pajamas. It was the kind of intimacy that gave you a sense of security and closeness that you had never experienced before. You fell asleep cuddled up to each other, and you couldn't stop smiling, feeling that you had never been happier.

The next day, Chan, as suspicious as always, asked you about the details of the previous evening, but you were clever. You answered evasively, brushing off his questions.

____________

A few days later, Han invited you to a restaurant, you dressed carefully again, feeling that this evening would be special. This time, Chan decided to follow you. He felt like you were hiding something from him, and he wanted to find out what it was. When Chan saw you with Han at the restaurant, his first instinct was to get angry. He was about to run inside and make a scene when he saw something that surprised him. You looked really happy. You were smiling in a way he hadn't seen in a long time. At that moment, he realized that maybe his overprotectiveness was over the top.

Inside the restaurant, Han handed you a present - a beautiful, delicate necklace. He gently placed it around your neck and then placed a tender kiss on your lips. You were touched, you had never received such a beautiful gift before. Watching you from afar, Chan realized that Han really cared about you.

That evening, as you were walking home, you decided that it was high time to tell Chan about your relationship. Entering the house, you squeezed Han's hand tightly, trying to give yourself courage.

"Chan, I have to tell you something…" You began, seeing that your brother had turned his attention to you. "I've been with Han for a while now. We want you to know that." You confessed with a trembling voice.

Han, seeing your uncertainty, put his arm around you and added,

"I know how important Y/N is to you, Chan. I can assure you that I will take care of her. I love her and I will always be there for her. I promise."

For a moment, Chan was silent, his face showing no emotion. After a moment, however, to your surprise, he smiled slightly.

"I know you're together." He finally said. "Y/N looks happy. I know I'm overprotective, but... she's my little sister. I want to protect her. But I can see she's found someone who's more important to her than me. I have to accept that." He looked at Han with determination. "But remember, I've got my eye on you. If you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me."

A weight lifted from your hearts. You smiled at each other with relief, and Han and Chan patted each other's backs, as if they were going back to old times. 

From that day on, you didn't have to hide anything anymore. Everything was the same, well almost everything. Han often dropped by your house, and your relationship blossomed. You had never felt happier, you had the two most important people by your side, and everything was going well.

Masterlist

[dee-writes-anime]

Let Me Take Care of You

FEATURING Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

SUMMARY Don't mind me, just sitting here imagining Megumi with his sweet, sick girlfriend...

CONTENT WARNINGS sick fluff, Megumi summons his shikigami, worried Megumi, worried reader

AUTHORS NOTE this is the cutest thing ever RAHHHH, I was kicking my feet, giggling while writing it.

The blankets cocooned you in a heavy warmth, though the chill in your bones never quite dissipated. Each breath felt ragged, a constant reminder of the fever gripping your body. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was enough to make your limbs ache and your thoughts fuzzy. Another cough wracked through your chest, stealing your breath for a moment before subsiding, leaving you even more exhausted.

From outside the bedroom, you heard the faintest sound of footsteps—pacing, restless. You knew exactly who it was. Megumi had been hovering, anxiously checking on you from a distance since you had fallen ill, his presence just outside the door impossible to ignore.

He didn’t have to worry so much. It was just a fever, nothing serious. Still, you knew Megumi—how he internalized his concern, how the furrow in his brow deepened when something gnawed at him. He was trying to give you space, but it was clearly killing him.

The door creaked slightly as it inched open, revealing him standing there in the doorway. His expression was stern, but the softness in his eyes betrayed how worried he really was. "How are you feeling?" he asked, voice quiet but filled with a tension he couldn’t hide.

"I’m fine," you rasped out, though the hoarseness of your voice and the cough that followed didn’t exactly sell the lie. You shifted under the blankets, trying to appear more composed than you felt. "Just need to rest."

Megumi’s frown deepened. “You’ve been saying that for days.”

You shot him a weak glare, though there wasn’t much force behind it. “I don’t want you getting sick too.”

“That’s not important,” he replied, stepping into the room fully now. His arms crossed over his chest, and you could see the frustration building behind his calm demeanor. “I don’t care if I get sick.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, but you remained stubborn. “I care.”

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to find a way to convince you otherwise. For a moment, the room was filled only with the soft sound of your breathing, each inhale feeling a little heavier than the last.

Then, without warning, he summoned them—two small, familiar forms flickering into existence from the shadows. You watched in mild surprise as his bunny shikigami appeared at the foot of your bed. They hopped toward you, noses twitching, their soft fur practically begging to be petted.

“Megumi...” you muttered, trying to sound stern, but the sight of the bunnies—so cute and innocent—melted away any real resistance.

“They’ll keep you company,” he said, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles, though the worry hadn’t left his eyes. “Since you won’t let me.”

The bunnies nudged their way toward you, soft and warm against the fabric of your blankets. You couldn’t help but reach out, fingers brushing over their fur. A small smile crept onto your face despite yourself.

But then you caught his gaze—earnest, concerned, hovering near the doorway like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him get any closer.

“Megumi,” you croaked, pausing as another cough cut through your voice. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking a step closer, arms dropping to his sides. “But you’re being stubborn.”

You shook your head, fighting the dizzy spell that came with the movement. “I don’t want you to catch this. You’ve got enough going on without adding a fever to it.”

He didn’t reply right away, but you could feel his eyes on you, measuring your exhaustion against your words. Then, with another flick of his fingers, Megumi summoned his demon dogs. Their large forms materialized by the bed, one resting its head on your lap, the other sitting beside you, its dark eyes fixed on yours, almost pleading.

“They agree with me,” Megumi said, a soft chuckle in his voice now, though his expression was still laced with concern. “You need to let me stay.”

The weight of the demon dog’s head on your lap was warm and comforting, its dark fur soft under your palm as you absentmindedly stroked it. You could feel yourself beginning to waver. He always knew how to wear you down, bit by bit, with that quiet persistence of his.

“You’re not playing fair,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Megumi stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, his presence a soothing weight beside you. “Since when do I play fair?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, despite your fatigue. You wanted to argue with him, tell him to leave, to stay away, but the truth was... you didn’t want him to go. The fever, the aches—they were bad, but the loneliness, the distance you were forcing between you two—that felt worse.

“I’m serious, Megumi,” you muttered, closing your eyes for a moment as exhaustion washed over you again. “You’ll get sick.”

“If I get sick, I’ll deal with it,” he replied softly, his voice close now, his hand brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, cautious, like he was trying not to overwhelm you. “I don’t care about that.”

You opened your eyes to look at him, and the expression on his face made your chest tighten. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes were filled with something so tender it made your heart ache.

“Megumi...” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

“I don’t care about getting sick,” he repeated, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, comforting strokes. “I just want to be with you. Please... let me take care of you.”

The room felt impossibly still, the warmth of the blankets and the quiet presence of his shikigami grounding you. He was so close now, sitting on the bed beside you, his worry clear in every inch of him. You wanted to tell him no again, to keep up the stubborn front, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, and... maybe you didn’t want to.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you relented. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “I’ve heard that before.”

Gently, he slipped under the covers, careful not to disturb you too much as he settled beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close enough that you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your back. The warmth of his body seeped into your feverish skin, and for the first time in days, you felt a little more at ease.

“I’ll be right here,” he murmured against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “For as long as you need me.”

Despite the lingering fever, despite the worry that he might get sick too, you couldn’t help but relax into him. His presence, his warmth—it was exactly what you needed, even if you hadn’t been ready to admit it.

“Okay,” you whispered, finally letting yourself rest in his arms. “Just don’t blame me if you catch this.”

“I won’t,” he whispered back, holding you just a little tighter. “I promise.”

[l4ndonorizz]

looser cooks dinner / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: blindheart - digital memories

summary: a rainy day ruins lando’s plans, so he crashes yours instead. What starts as trivia and teasing quickly turns into a game of "never have I ever"—and things get a little too real when feelings get involved

wc: 2k

The steady rhythm of rain pattering against your window was the only sound in your cozy living room as you sat curled up on the couch, flipping absentmindedly through your phone. The plans you'd made for the day were officially canceled thanks to the downpour outside, and you’d resigned yourself to a quiet afternoon indoors. A little disappointed, sure, but a rainy day at home wasn’t the worst thing.

Just as you were about to settle into a Netflix binge, a familiar sound pulled your attention—someone knocking at your door. You frowned, glancing out the window where the rain was coming down even harder now. Who would be out in this weather?

When you opened the door, your frown melted into surprise. Standing there, completely drenched but grinning like an idiot, was Lando Norris. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his hoodie soaked through, and droplets of rainwater dripped from his nose. Despite his bedraggled state, he looked utterly unbothered.

"Lando?" you said, struggling not to laugh. "What are you doing here? It’s pouring!"

Lando shrugged, wiping the rain from his face with the back of his hand. “My plans got canceled,” he said, stepping into your apartment without waiting for an invitation. “Figured I’d come to hang out with you instead.”

You closed the door behind him, shaking your head in disbelief. "You didn’t think to call first? I could’ve told you to stay dry."

He grinned, kicking off his soaked shoes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You sighed, grabbing a towel and tossing it at him. "You’re ridiculous."

Lando caught the towel mid-air, already rubbing it over his hair, water droplets falling onto your hardwood floor. "Yeah, but you love me for it," he teased, winking in your direction.

Your heart did that stupid little flip it always seemed to do whenever he was around. Rolling your eyes, you walked toward the kitchen, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered. "Do you want some tea or something? You look like a drowned rat."

"Sure. I’ll take whatever you’re having," he called out, following you and dragging the towel through his hair. "What were you up to before I heroically saved you from a boring afternoon?"

You laughed, filling the kettle. "Heroic, huh? I was just about to put on a movie or something. Not exactly thrilling."

“Good thing I showed up, then,” Lando said, leaning against the counter and flashing that mischievous smile that always made your heart race. “I make everything more exciting.”

You shot him a playful look. "Big words for someone who looks like they just swam through a monsoon."

He smirked, his eyes sparkling as he leaned in slightly. "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to come see you."

Your breath caught in your throat at the teasing glint in his eyes, but before you could respond, Lando pulled back, grabbing the tea towel hanging by the sink and starting to dry off his arms.

The kettle whistled, saving you from having to come up with a reply. As you poured the tea, the atmosphere in the room shifted, the rain outside creating a soft backdrop to the moment between you two.

“So,” Lando said, breaking the quiet as he sat at your small kitchen table, “what’s the plan, then? You got a movie picked out, or are we improvising?”

You handed him a steaming mug and shrugged, sitting down across from him. “Depends. Are you in the mood for something chill, or are you going to make us do something ridiculous?”

Lando’s grin widened, his playful side kicking in. “You know me too well. I was thinking…we could go for a walk. Maybe grab some food somewhere.”

“In this rain?” you raised an eyebrow. “You’re not dragging me out in that mess.”

“Okay,” he said, sipping his tea. “what about some indoor games? But…” He leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “only if we make it interesting. Loser cooks dinner.”

You laughed, already feeling the competitive spark in the air. "What games?"

You handed him a steaming mug of tea and shrugged. “Depends. Are you in the mood for something chill, or are you gonna make us do something ridiculous?”

Lando’s eyes lit up with mischief as he took a sip. “How about we play a game? Trivia quiz, but we make it interesting. Loser has to spill a secret.”

You raised an eyebrow, already feeling the competitive tension in the air. "Trivia? You really think you can beat me?"

He leaned forward, his grin widening. "I don't think—I know."

With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed your phone to pull up a random trivia app. “Alright, Norris, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The game started off light—questions about history, geography, and random pop culture tidbits. Every time Lando got an answer right, he made sure to flash you that cocky grin, and every time he got one wrong, you made sure to gloat just a little.

“So,” you said, smirking after he missed a question about 80s pop music, “looks like you owe me a secret.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, pretending to think deeply before giving you a cheeky grin. “Alright. Secret time. Sometimes, I forget which way the track goes.”

You burst out laughing, nearly spilling your tea. “Seriously?”

He laughed too, holding up his hands. “Okay, okay. Only once! And it was during practice. Not during a race!”

The game continued, with you winning most of the rounds. Lando’s competitiveness flared as the trivia questions became harder, and you could see him getting more serious with each wrong answer.

But then he smirked. “Let’s switch it up. Enough with trivia. How about we play 'Never Have I Ever'? Or are you too scared?”

You narrowed your eyes, accepting the challenge immediately. “Scared? Please. Let’s do it.”

Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Alright. I’ll go first. Never have I ever... thrown up after a race.”

You hesitated for a second before raising your hand in mock defeat. “Fine, you got me. I haven’t.”

Lando nodded, pleased with himself. “Your turn.”

“Never have I ever… crashed a go-kart into a wall,” you shot back with a teasing smile.

Lando’s face turned a bit pink, and he raised his hand sheepishly. “I was 11, alright? It was an accident.”

You both laughed, but as the game progressed, the questions got more personal, more daring. The atmosphere between you two shifted slightly, becoming more intimate, more...charged.

Lando’s eyes sparkled as he spoke next. “Never have I ever kissed someone I really liked but pretended it didn’t mean anything.”

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. There was something in the way he said it, like it wasn’t just part of the game anymore.

You raised your hand slowly, feeling a flush creep up your neck. Lando’s eyes flickered with interest, and the tension in the room seemed to heighten. You couldn’t help but ask, “What about you?”

He didn’t raise his hand, just sat there, staring at you. His playful smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

“Never have I ever…” Lando started, but this time his voice was softer. His gaze met yours, holding it for just a little too long. “Fallen for a best friend and didn’t know what to do about it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. The rain outside, the cozy warmth of the kitchen, and the playful banter from before felt like a backdrop to the sudden shift between you two. You couldn’t look away from him, and the quiet confession in his eyes made your pulse race.

Neither of you raised a hand.

The air was thick with unsaid words, and for the first time, the comfortable dynamic you’d always had felt different—heavier, like you were both standing on the edge of something.

"Lando," you started, unsure of what to say next, but he cut you off, his voice soft but steady.

“I didn’t come here just because my plans were canceled,” he admitted, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I wanted to see you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and you realized in that moment that everything had changed. Somewhere between the laughter and the silly games, the lines between friendship and something more had blurred.

You didn’t know what to say. The playful banter from earlier was gone, replaced with an intensity you weren’t prepared for. You opened your mouth to respond, but Lando stood up, closing the distance between you and taking your hand gently.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Never have I ever… been this nervous."

You stared at him, your heart racing, and without thinking, you reached up and placed your other hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Well,” you whispered, “you’re not alone.”

And with that, you leaned in, the distance between you disappearing as you kissed him, the rain outside a quiet backdrop to the moment you'd both been waiting for, without even knowing it.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like you were both testing the waters. But when Lando’s hand slid up to gently cup your cheek, everything shifted. The hesitation melted away, and you deepened the kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. The rain outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Lando pulled you closer, his other hand resting on your waist as the kiss grew more intense. The soft hum of the rain and the warmth of the room seemed to wrap around you both, creating a bubble where nothing else existed.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he whispered, “That was… not how I expected today to go.”

You laughed softly, your hands still resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Yeah, me neither.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room was filled with the comfortable silence that only came after something long overdue. Lando opened his eyes slowly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart race all over again.

“What happens now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando smiled softly, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Now… I think we stop pretending this is just friendship.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the weight of his words settling in. “You mean…?”

He nodded, his smile growing. “Yeah. I mean… I’ve liked you for a while now. Just didn’t know how to say it.”

You blinked, the realization hitting you like a wave. All the little moments, the teasing glances, the playful flirting—it had all meant something more. “I didn��t know you felt that way.”

Lando chuckled softly, his hand dropping to yours. “I wasn’t exactly subtle.”

You smiled, feeling the tension between you unravel into something lighter, more certain. “I guess I was too busy pretending I didn’t feel the same.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up…”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Now what?”

“Well,” Lando said, glancing around the kitchen, “I did promise we’d cook dinner. And since you technically beat me in trivia…”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping back slightly but keeping your hand in his. “Oh, no. You’re still cooking. I won fair and square.”

Lando pouted dramatically, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Fine. But you’re helping.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you nodded. “Deal.”

[allllium]

andrewgarfield!peterparker x reader where reader has the biggest crush on peter but doesn't know he's spiderman? angst to fluff please!

have lovely day/night <3

Unrequited (I've always loved you)

~ Sorry this took so long and it's a lot longer than I usually write but I love how it turned out <3

~ Fluff, hurt/comfort?, Angst, WC: 2,274

~ Your best friend has a secret

Being in love sucks. Being in love with someone that's not in love with you sucks even more. But that's fine. Everything's fine. Nothing can go wrong when you're in love with your best friend.

Peter looks over at you as you repeatedly tap your pencil against your notebook, very obviously not doing the homework. You're sitting on his bed while he's across from you at his desk. Ignoring the tap from your pencil, you look around his room, lost in random thoughts, well thoughts mostly of him.

"You alright?" He asks, soft voice coming from a few feet away.

"Ugh, just bored." You slightly whine. Standing from the bed to look more around his nerdy room. All the walls are covered with different things that you don't really understand.

He just nods and returns to his work. You admire him from your stance behind him. The way his fluffy hair falls softly in front of his face or the way he's dressed so casually but still looks so good. You don't understand how one person can be so perfect. Not to mention the way he's stronger than he looks, allowing him to maintain his lanky figure that fits him so well.

Out of your boredom you start rummaging through all the stuff he has lying on his bookshelf, which leads to opening all the drawers you can find. You continuously look over at him to see if he has a problem with what you're doing but he makes no move to stop you even as he watches what you're doing.

As you're digging around you eventually reach his closet, you're a little hesitant because you don't wanna press your luck too far but what are best friends if not nosy. His closet is small and way overcrowded with clothes you swear he's never worn. You wouldn't doubt that his aunt tried to sneak them in to help him fit in more.

Something catches your eye as you go to shut the door. You wouldn't think anything of it but the red color of it deeply contrasts the rest of the closet. It looks like fabric but it's not hanging up with the rest of his clothes. Instead it's in a box on the floor, only a piece of it visible as if he rushed to put it away.

Peter shoots out of his chair when you bend down towards the box. He grabs your arm and pulls you away so he can quickly shut the door.

"What was that?" You ask in suspicion. Peter's reaction is one you haven't seen from him before.

"Nothing." He tells you, a serious look falling over his face. He pushes you a little further so he can stand between you and the door.

"Peter, c'mon." You deadpan. All the embarrassing things it could possibly be run through your head. Nothing you think of would warrant this much of a reaction.

"No. Leave it alone." He doesn't exactly snap at you but it's definitely on the line of it.

"Okay then. I'll go now." You tell him quickly. You gather up your stuff and look at him one more time before leaving, his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. Shaking your head in even more confusion, you leave.

You don't see him for the rest of the day. Or the next day. Or even the day after that. You get the feeling he's avoiding you. It's a mystery why you think to yourself in a sarcastic tone.

Of course you see him around school but he always does more than necessary to avoid looking at you. At this point you're determined to know what was in that box. Is it a huge violation of his privacy, yes. Do you care, no, not one bit. If he doesn't want you to violate his privacy, why would he hide things from you? Make it make sense.

It's not that hard to get access to his closet considering Aunt May will let you in the house will no explanation. After school you walk right in, she gives you a bright smile and continues whatever it is she's doing. Not one question.

You have no problem going into his room, he's probably off skateboarding or whatever else nerds do in their free time. Once you get your hands on the box, that he's now shut completely, you have second thoughts. Maybe it really is wrong of you to invade his privacy like this? Oh well you open it anyway.

Holy shit. You don't even know what to think as you pull out a spiderman costume. You think, well hope, it's a costume because you don't know what to think about your best friend being the New York superhero.

How? When? How again? Is this why he's so strong? You've been friends with Peter long before Spiderman showed up which means he chose not to tell you. Is it because he doesn't trust you? Or maybe he doesn't like you as much as you like him? That stings.

Now you know why he was so adamant you leave it alone. But how is this even possible? He swings from buildings and fights giant lizards. How are you supposed to believe that your Peter can be doing that?

You quickly put the suit back in the box and hurry out of his room. As you rush down the stairs, he's coming up, running into his shoulder halfway down. You know he immediately knows but you keep running anyway.

He doesn't even stop to explain as he continues up the stairs. You walk home and wonder if there's any possibility it was just a Halloween costume.

Your phone rings over and over and over. It's obviously Peter. It's only nine in the morning on a Saturday so you have no plans of getting up or moving enough to answer your phone.

You're guessing he's mad. He should be. Now that you know what it is you can think a little clearer and you understand that maybe you should've respected his wishes a little more.

You don't answer the phone because you know he'll be mad and you don't want him to ever be mad at you. Or he'll be sad and you don't want that either. But of course, above all, you don't want to admit to him that you were wrong.

Once you finally get to moving out of bed, you spend a lot of time reading articles on Spiderman and trying to figure out how he does what he does. Now that you know Peter is Spiderman some of it makes more sense but all the other stuff makes even less sense.

Your phone rings a couple more times and you get a dozen messages but eventually they all stop. You focus your time on reading every single thing you can about him. From everything about the giant lizard to saving cats from trees and catching falling women.

"That was an interesting day." A voice comes from behind you. You jump out of your seat and turn to face them. A not so flattering shriek leaves your mouth and your heart beats faster than you thought possible.

"Peter, what the fuck." You gasp. Heart still racing and breathing slightly heavy. You take a moment to look at him, taking notice of his messy hair and the fact that he's in the Spiderman suit. Obviously he looks insanely hot but very very angry.

"Oh what? Did I invade your privacy?" He mocks, throwing down the mask you're just noticing was in his hand.

"I mean you came through the window so I'd say so." You whisper, not sure what you're actually supposed to say.

"I guess we're even now huh." He takes a seat on your bed and you almost want to say something about outside clothes on your bed but you don't have that right.

"Yeah I'd say so." A simple shrug of your shoulders has him rolling his eyes.

"That's the second time you've said that."

"I don't know what else to say."

"I wonder why." He mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Were you ever gonna tell me?" You ask, hurt covering your voice.

"I wanted to." You sit next to him on your bed.

"No you didn't. You should've told me."

"I don't see how it's any of your business." The setting sun shining in through your window glows on his face. You can see every detail of both him and his suit.

"Because we're friends. I don't know, maybe it wasn't."

"Really? You're gonna play this card." He stands in front of you.

"What card, Peter?" You almost yell back.

"You! Acting all sad and betrayed, trying to pretend you don't know if we were ever real friends." He's yelling now too.

"What does that even mean!? I'm allowed to be upset when you keep something like this from me!" You stand up, not liking the way he was looking down at you.

"It's none of your business." He enunciates every word to get his point across.

"Fine. It's not my problem. I shouldn't have done it. Now get out of my room."

He stares at you for a full minute. Like he's not done with whatever he wants to say or maybe he just wasn't expecting you to snap. Either way he respects your wishes, waiting only a moment more to leave out your bedroom window.

The next week rolls around very similar to the last. You go to school, you go home. Peter still avoids you, and what looks like everyone else. Throughout the whole week you don't see him talk to Gwen or anyone else he usually hangs out with.

It's not until Thursday that Gwen actually comes up to talk to you. Usually you would talk everyday but she's been more than busy with her band.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, coming up behind you as you put stuff back in your locker.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know Peter's being weird and all mopey so I thought he finally kissed you or something." She sighs so freely like she didn't just say something like that.

"What do you mean finally? Why would he kiss me?" She looks panicked. Clearly she wasn't supposed to say something but everyone knows Gwen isn't someone that keeps secrets very well.

"Fuck." She turns around and starts walking off. You slam your locker shut and follow her.

"No, no, no, no. Gwen, you get back here."

"I can't, I wasn't supposed to say that." She starts walking through people and down random halls.

"Gwen, you better get talking or I'm telling Peter what you already told me." That makes her stop in tracks. She turns to you with a look of both disbelief and betrayal.

"You're not even on speaking terms!"

"We'll go on speaking terms outta spite."

"Fine, I'll tell you but you can't tell anyone." She points her finger at you accusingly.

"Who would I tell?"

"Peter may be an insy tinsy bit in love with you."

"Gwen!"

"What? I'm not the one in love with you!"

You take a deep breath while you try to process everything you've learned in the past three minutes.

"I've been trying to get him to admit it to you forever but he didn't want to do it until he told you he's Spiderman." She continues her explanation, not realizing she's yet again saying more than she's supposed to.

"So you already knew he was Spiderman?"

"Fuck." She whines and turns to leave again but this time you let her. It's not her fault Peter didn't trust you. Or that he's in love with you.

"Gwen told me she told you." Peter says, not even a moment after you opened your front door. "And so I guess I don't really have a choice but to explain myself. And I mean that literally because Gwen is giving me no choice." He talks quickly. It sounds like he's trying to say it as fast as possible to get it over with.

"Wanna come in?" You ask, again not knowing what to say. It's funny how all it takes is his presence to make you more nervous than you ever have been.

He walks in hesitantly and doesn't move further than the entryway before he starts talking again.

"I only told her first because I'm not in love with her. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want it to affect anything, but I didn't want to tell you I was in love with you before I told you that I was Spiderman because it didn't feel right to keep that a secret."

"That makes no sense." You run your hands tiredly over your face. "I mean seriously at least have a good excuse."

"I don't have one. Okay, I don't know why I didn't tell you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I love you and I don't want this to ruin anything." He looks down at his feet, breaking the eye contact you were making.

"I love you too but if I was a superhero I'd tell you."

"I know you would. I don't know why I didn't." He shrugs. "Did you just say you love me?"

"Not if it takes you that long to notice." You smile, forgetting about being mad.

"I really am sorry." He says, stepping closer to you.

"So am I." You say, also taking a step closer.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, closing the space between you.

"Of course." Your smile grows even wider as his lips reach yours.