#other thing all together is either he wanted too

[gayeddiejuice]

🚨🚨 boots on the ground reporting 🚨🚨

ok just got off the phone with my friend, she is the mvp called me as soon as she clocked out while she walked to the train.

ok. first things first i asked. we’re they nice? and she said YES she said they were probably the easiest table anyone had she felt bad for everyone else cause she kept seeing all the handlers running back and forth and she was just chilling pretty much. she said they dinner was pre ordered but they didn’t eat much of it cause they probably ate at the pre party event. she was also like “did you know oliver is vegan?” LOL anyways. as the main handler the job is to make sure the vips have everything they need, so for example she would take all their food orders and then send it to the kitchen and then there’s a team of waiters who bring the food, the handler never leaves the table you have to be there in case they need anything.

she said since their team preordered most of the food it made her job so much easier, she basically just stood by their table all night just in case they needed anything. she did order lots of drinks tho she said they drank A LOT 😂😂 but it was mostly for all the people that kept coming over to their table, apparently they were super popular people from other shows kept coming over to talk to them. also lots of the other guests which is mostly just the advertisers, that’s the whole point of the party abc/disney has all these celebs there to mingle with advertisers to get them to sell stuff on their network. and she said everyone wanted to come to the 911 table!!

after the dinner portion the actual party starts and that’s when things get hectic cause the vips always scatter and if you’re their handler you gotta know where they all are at all times. i do not miss this job btw it gave me major anxiety.

during the party they pretty much stuck together which made her job so much easier and she said they all remembered her name when she only told it to them once when she introduced herself. listen she doesn’t know anything about this cast she kept calling them the girl and the asian guy or the two hot guys. which. yall. she said they were all extremely beautiful she said she kept blushing cause ryan (she fell in love with him btw) kept calling her by her name and asking her questions and he kept organizing the plates and glasses on the table to make it easier for the wait staff to pick up.

other than that she said later in the night she kept losing track of them cause again they were so popular 😂😂 mostly aisha, she said she seemed to be friends with EVERYONE and she said, i repeat she knows nothing about rpf she didn’t know what her words would mean, she said ryan and oliver (the two hot guys) hung out together the whole night especially once kenny left, she said he left at like 8 right after dinner, and aisha kept going to talk to other people but ryan and oliver stuck together all night. I said oh im so sure. 🤭

that’s pretty much it, i asked if she could hear their convos and she could but she didn’t really pay attention cause she didn’t recognize any names. she did say that they were all cracking jokes all night and they laughed a lot which idk warms my heart 🥹🥹

btw ryan and oliver did leave together and i think they were going to either go somewhere else with other people or they were having like an after party at the hotel? cause they kept telling people yeah we’ll see you “after” she didn’t really catch where “after” was but when they said bye to aisha ryan said “see ya at the hotel” and oliver told her to not take too long 😂😂 so idk I guess they’re still partying.

[pucksandpower]

Crash Course in Love

Lando Norris x Carlos Sainz’s best friend!Reader

Summary: in which Carlos forgets to tell his two best friends they’ll be staying in his villa together, and now a stressed out lawyer has to survive living with a human golden retriever, but you know what they say … opposites attract

You’ve been in Marbella for four days and already gone through three bottles of wine and two existential crises.

Carlos’ villa is too quiet for someone used to white noise: emails pinging, heels clacking, cortisol. The silence in this place isn’t peaceful — it’s accusatory. You’ve spent more time staring at the sea than you have your own reflection in the last ten years, which is saying something.

It feels indulgent. Like if someone walks in, they’ll accuse you of being lazy. You’d have to explain the insomnia, the migraines, the crying in bathroom stalls between depositions.

But Carlos isn’t here to judge. He’s off somewhere filming shampoo commercials in Paris or golfing in socks with his dad. He just texted you the gate code and told you to “relax, coño.” So here you are, inhaling almond-scented air and avoiding your inbox.

You’re halfway through a rerun of The Holiday when the doorbell rings.

You don’t move.

It rings again. Louder.

“Delivery?” You mutter to no one. You didn’t order anything.

You shuffle to the door in socks and an old hoodie of Carlos’ that you’ve unofficially adopted. You crack the door open and freeze.

Lando Norris is standing there. With a suitcase. And a sunburn.

“Hey,” he says, blinking like he’s not entirely sure this is the right house. “You’re not Carlos.”

“You’re … not a delivery guy.”

“Definitely not. Unless you ordered someone with mediocre Spanish and no plan.”

You blink. He grins.

“Sorry, I’m Lando. Uh. Carlos said I could crash in the guest room. Hotel bailed on my reservation. Long story. But he didn’t mention you’d be here.”

“He didn’t mention you’d be here either.”

“Cool. So we’re both surprised. That’s … fun?”

You stare at him. He looks like he just rolled off a yacht he wasn’t invited on. Sleeveless shirt, board shorts, and the confidence of someone who’s never had to Google “how to flirt.”

You open the door all the way. “Come in, I guess.”

He wheels his suitcase past you. It makes an annoying thunk over the threshold. You follow him into the hallway, watching as he does a slow 360 like he’s never seen furniture before.

“Whoa. This place is insane. Does Carlos actually live like this, or is he secretly royalty?”

“Just rich.”

“Same difference.”

You cross your arms. “You want something to drink?”

“God, yes. I’m parched. Is that still a word people use? Parched?”

You turn toward the kitchen. “Not since 1912.”

Behind you, you hear him mutter, “Alright. Tough crowd.”

He follows you to the kitchen like a golden retriever. Doesn’t ask where things are — just opens cabinets and drawers like it’s his Airbnb.

“I got this,” he says, pulling out two glasses. “I’m a fantastic guest. Top tier. Five stars on all platforms.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You have reviews?”

“No, but if I did? Flawless.”

He pours two drinks. One is wine. The other is apple juice. He hands you the wine. “Cheers.”

You eye the juice. “Is that … what you’re drinking?”

“I burnt a little on the flight. Gotta rehydrate.”

He’s completely serious. Like drinking juice is a medical emergency. You stifle a laugh.

“You okay?” He asks, suddenly earnest. “You look like you’re tired. But not like, normal tired. Lawyer tired.”

You blink at him. “Lawyer tired?”

“Yeah. Like … your eyeballs are sleepy but your soul’s still trying to finish a brief.”

You stare.

“I mean that in a good way. Like, impressive. Respectfully.”

“Wow.”

“I should stop talking.”

“Yeah, probably.”

***

Dinner is his idea. You offer to order something in. He insists on cooking. “I make a mean carbonara,” he says. “Or maybe risotto. Wait, do you eat dairy?”

You nod.

“Okay, sick. Chef Lando it is.”

You spend the next hour watching him destroy Carlos’ kitchen with the chaotic enthusiasm of a man who’s only cooked two times in his life and once lit a tea towel on fire.

He tells stories while he cooks, most of them involving near-death experiences, bad tattoos, and a rental car that somehow ended up in a lake.

You lean on the counter, sipping your wine. “Do you ever filter?”

“Rarely. But I can if you want. I can be quiet. Mysterious. Brooding.”

“You?”

He makes a face. “Okay, rude.”

“You burn your hand yet?”

“Twice,” he says cheerfully. “But I’m hiding it to preserve my ego.”

He fumbles with the tongs. Pasta flies out of the pan and onto the floor. He shrugs. “Five-second rule?”

You deadpan. “I’m not that desperate yet.”

He laughs. You notice he has a nice laugh. Not performative. Just … happy.

Dinner is terrible. Somehow both overcooked and cold. You take one bite and try not to gag.

“So?” He asks, eyes wide with hope.

“It’s … ambitious.”

He winces. “I’ll order pizza.”

“I won’t stop you.”

“Should’ve stuck with cereal,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

You don’t mean to smile. But you do.

***

Later, you sit on the couch with your legs tucked under you while he scrolls through terrible Spanish romcoms on TV.

“This one’s got a 3.4 on IMDb.”

“Perfect.”

He clicks play.

You steal glances at him when he’s not looking. He’s gotten more attractive since the last time you saw him, though you’re not sure if it’s the jawline or the fact that he keeps folding your hoodie when you leave it on the back of a chair.

He’s obnoxious, yes. Too comfortable too fast. But when you yawn mid-movie, his entire face falls.

“Oh no, I’m boring you.”

“It’s the wine.”

“I’m still boring you.”

“You’re not.”

“I totally am.”

He turns toward you, earnest again. It’s disarming. “You wanna sleep? I’ll shut up.”

“You never shut up.”

“Harsh.”

He watches you for a moment. “You sure you’re okay?”

You pause. That question again. The one you’ve been dodging since the breakdown.

“Yeah,” you lie.

He nods. But doesn’t push.

You both go quiet. The movie drones on in the background.

“Hey,” he says suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got a cool vibe.”

You look at him. “What does that mean?”

“I dunno. Like … your energy. It’s nice.”

You snort. “Are you high?”

“No! I’m complimenting you. With words.”

“This is how a teenager hits on a barista.”

“Okay, true, but still. I meant it.”

You stare at him.

He grins. “Just accept the compliment.”

You roll your eyes. But you don’t say no.

***

By the time you head to bed, the house smells like burnt garlic and whatever cologne he bathed in.

You hear him shuffling around in the guest room next to yours. Singing under his breath. Awful pitch.

You press your face into the pillow. You’re not supposed to like this. The noise. The chaos. The presence.

But when you wake up later and find your bags stacked neatly by the door — shoes lined up, hoodie folded on the chair — you smile.

Just a little.

And only when no one’s looking.

***

It starts the next morning with coffee.

You’re barely awake — just a hoodie-draped zombie with bed hair and a fading dream you don’t want to examine — when he appears in the kitchen, too chipper, too shirtless.

“You drink it black, right?” Lando asks, holding out a steaming cup like he’s been doing this forever. His curls are a mess. There’s toothpaste on his chin.

You blink at him. “How do you know how I take my coffee?”

“You made fun of me yesterday for putting oat milk in mine. I remembered.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s called observation. I do it professionally.”

“Driving is not the same as remembering my coffee order.”

“I do both with style.”

You accept the cup, suspicious. “Did you spit in this?”

“Only love and a little judgment.”

You take a sip. It’s surprisingly decent.

“You’re not completely useless.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He says it with a grin, but something flickers in his eyes when you smile over your cup. You don’t catch it. Not yet.

***

Days pass like that. Mornings laced with caffeine and accidental comfort.

You fall into a rhythm neither of you talks about. He gets up earlier than you expect — blasts music while brushing his teeth, sings ABBA off-key in the hallway, makes smoothies that look like radioactive goo.

You argue over playlists constantly.

“No. We’re not doing Pitbull at eight in the morning.”

“He’s Mr. Worldwide! It’s inspirational.”

“He’s bald and shouting.”

“That’s showbiz, baby.”

Sometimes, you win. Most of the time, he sneaks Mr. Brightside onto every playlist and pretends he didn’t.

You never thought you'd get used to someone like him. Loud. Playful. Constantly hovering in your peripheral vision. But there's a gentleness under the antics. A sweetness that doesn't beg to be noticed, but you notice anyway.

He drives you to the market without asking. Carries your groceries like it’s a competition. Starts trying to cook again — more confident than competent.

“What’s your favorite dish?” He asks one evening, hunched over his phone like it owes him money.

You answer without thinking. “Cacio e pepe.”

“Easy. I got this.”

He doesn’t got this.

He overcooks the pasta, forgets to salt the water, and ends up Googling “what is pecorino” in a panic.

You walk in on him whispering “don’t clump, don’t clump” at the sauce like it’s sentient.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Need help?”

“Nope. I’m an artist. This is part of the process.”

He serves it with flair. You pretend not to notice the texture is more glue than cheese.

Still, you eat it. He watches your face the whole time, pretending not to. When you finish the plate, he beams like he’s won a Michelin star.

^**

The rain starts on a Tuesday.

You wake to gray skies and the soft percussion of drops against the villa’s roof. You think it’ll pass. It doesn’t.

By mid-afternoon, you’re both restless.

“I have to move,” you say, pacing in the living room. “I need to do something.”

Lando sprawls across the rug like a teenage boy at a sleepover. “Let’s play Mario Kart.”

“That’s not productive.”

“You’re literally vibrating with stress. Sit down. You need to get your ass kicked by Princess Peach.”

You do not get your ass kicked. You annihilate him.

“This game is rigged,” he whines as your kart zips past his. “You’re cheating.”

“I'm just better.”

“You're heartless. Cruel. Unfairly good at drifting.”

“You sound like a man who’s losing.”

He groans, flops over, and covers his face with a throw pillow. “I hate fish.”

You blink. “What?”

“Just thought I’d change the subject.”

You snort. “Okay. Why?”

“They smell weird. They look weird. Their eyes freak me out.”

“Do you think fish can understand us?”

He lifts the pillow slightly. “Are we high right now?”

“No, I’m serious. What if they know we’re watching them?”

“Then I owe a lot of apologies to some sushi.”

You laugh. A real one. Not the polite chuckle you use in meetings, not the rehearsed smile for courtroom civility. This one hits your ribs.

He sits up. Watches you. Doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just … you’re different when you laugh like that.”

You glance away. “Like what?”

“Like you forgot something was weighing on you.”

His voice is soft now. Uncharacteristically so. You don’t respond right away. Just look out the window, rain sliding down the glass in long, lazy streaks.

After a while, you say, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He looks over.

“I mean, with my life,” you continue. “I was going so fast, for so long, and now I’ve stopped and I don’t … know what’s left.”

You stare at your hands. You hate how raw that sounds. How uncertain.

He doesn’t jump in. Doesn’t make a joke. Doesn’t try to fix it.

Just sits beside you. Quiet.

“I used to think being successful would feel better than this,” you say. “But I don’t even remember who I was before I started chasing things I don’t even know if I wanted.”

“Do you wanna go back?” He asks.

“No. But I don’t know how to go forward, either.”

He nods. Not like he understands completely — but like he’s trying to. Like he’s holding space for you, instead of advice.

“I don’t have answers,” he says eventually. “But I’m really good at distractions.”

You smile faintly. “Clearly.”

“I mean, c’mon. My carbonara almost killed you.”

“It did. I wrote a will after.”

“Harsh.”

“Truthful.”

He grins, and you feel lighter. A little.

***

That night, the rain intensifies.

You can’t sleep. Not because of the storm, but because something inside you is too noisy. Like your mind won’t stop pacing the room.

You wander out into the hallway, barefoot and restless, planning to make tea.

You don’t expect to see the front door open.

Or the rain soaking the floor tiles just past the entry.

Or him — barefoot, shirt clinging to him, hair dripping, crouched on the porch with his hands around a toppled plant.

You step outside. The rain is warm. Immediate. Your hoodie clings to your skin.

“Are you serious?” You call.

He looks up. His smile is sheepish, wide. “It fell over. I didn’t want it to drown.”

“In the middle of a storm?”

“Poor guy didn’t ask for this.”

You stare at him. His knees are muddy. There’s a leaf in his hair. He’s cradling the ceramic pot like it’s a kitten.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Guilty.”

“But also kind of … sweet.”

He looks at you.

You’re not sure what’s shifted. Maybe it’s the rain. The hour. The silence between the two of you that’s no longer awkward.

You’re suddenly aware of how close he is. How sincere his face becomes when he thinks you’re not looking.

He stands slowly. Water drips down his neck.

You say, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

You say, “You’re soaked.”

“So are you.”

And there it is — that moment. Hanging. Taut.

Not quite a kiss. Not yet.

But the kind of stillness that precedes something inevitable.

He tucks a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Doesn’t touch anything else.

His fingers are cold. His eyes are impossibly warm.

You shiver.

He notices. “Come on. Let’s not catch pneumonia.”

You nod. Follow him inside. Neither of you says much as you dry off.

But something’s different now.

And you both feel it.

Like you’ve stepped into something bigger than a holiday detour.

Something that might last.

***

You don’t expect him to ask.

You’re elbow-deep in a bowl of popcorn, half-watching some Spanish cooking show neither of you understands, when he says it — casual, like it’s nothing.

“You should come to Monaco next weekend.”

You blink. “What?”

“To the race. I’ll give you the VIP treatment.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you get a lanyard. And free food. And I pretend to be cooler than I actually am.”

“So, your regular weekend?”

He smirks. “Exactly.”

You scoff. “I’m not going to be some … grid girl.”

His grin falters. Just a little. “It’s not like that.”

“Lando.”

“You’d be my guest.”

“That’s worse.”

He turns toward you on the couch, legs folded under him like a golden retriever mid-persuasion. “Come on. It’s glamorous. There’s champagne. Helicopters. You love judging rich people.”

“That part is tempting.”

“I’ll let you wear one of my team shirts.”

“Still not sold.”

“I’ll bribe you with food.”

“Try again.”

“I’ll-” He pauses, thinks hard, then lights up. “-I’ll serenade you. Publicly. At the paddock.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Off-key. Acapella. I’ll make the engineers cry.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

He leans closer, dramatic whisper: “Come on. I’ll look lonely if you’re not there.”

“You’ll be surrounded by people.”

“Yeah, but none of them steal my fries and insult my music taste.”

You try not to let the warmth bloom too fast. “That’s your best argument?”

He lifts his hands. “That’s all I got.”

You shake your head. “Fine.”

He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

You sigh. “Yes. Before I change my mind.”

He fist pumps the air. “YES. I mean — cool. Chill. No big deal.”

You snort. “You’re such a loser.”

“Your loser.”

You ignore the way your chest does a weird little flutter.

***

You regret saying yes almost immediately.

Not because you don’t want to go — but because it’s a lot.

The paddock is chaos. Noise. Cameras. Sunglasses on everyone, like they’re all pretending it’s not just overcast. You can feel eyes on you from the second you step out of the car.

Lando’s bouncing on the balls of his feet beside you, grinning like he owns the place. Which, in a way, he kind of does.

“You okay?” He asks.

You nod, a bit dazed. “You weren’t kidding about the VIP treatment.”

“Would I ever lie?”

“Yes.”

“Fair.”

He hands you a pass. “Here. This is your all-access badge. Makes you important.”

“Is it laminated?”

“Of course it’s laminated. We’re not animals.”

You laugh. He smiles like that was his whole goal.

People greet him constantly — engineers, press, fans. He throws a casual arm around your shoulder more than once, guiding you through the crowd.

You notice it after the third introduction: no one asks who you are. They all assume.

“Oh, so this is your-”

“Hey, you finally brought her!”

“Lando’s girl, right?”

You start correcting people. At first.

“Oh no, we’re just-”

“Not together, actually.”

“Just friends.”

But he never jumps in. Never clarifies. Just smiles, tugs you along, calls you mate in that annoyingly endearing way.

At some point, you stop correcting anyone. You tell yourself it’s just easier that way.

You’re lying.

***

You meet Oscar by the snack table.

He’s polite, a little dry, surprisingly funny. You’re mid-laugh when Lando shows up, scooter wheels screeching dramatically.

“Hey,” he says, too loud. “What’s going on here?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Just talking.”

“Looked like flirting from over there.”

Oscar blinks. “I was complimenting her trainers.”

Lando squints. “They’re mine.”

“Ah.” Oscar smiles. “Well, you’ve got good taste.”

You can feel the tension radiating off Lando like heat from asphalt.

“Oscar was just telling me about the simulator,” you say, steering the conversation.

Lando crosses his arms. “Yeah? I’m faster than him in it.”

“By two-tenths,” Oscar says mildly.

“Still counts.”

You glance between them. “Are you … racing right now?”

Oscar shrugs. “Always.”

Lando tries to lean casually against a tire stack. Misses. Nearly faceplants into a crate of water bottles.

You wince. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, hopping back up.

Oscar’s expression is unreadable.

You bite your lip. “Should I, uh, go find my seat?”

Oscar nods. “Probably safer over there.”

You follow Lando as he storms off, silent. His curls are a mess. His ears are red.

When you finally stop near the garage, you say, “What was that?”

“What?”

“You nearly crashed your scooter trying to interrupt a conversation.”

“He was flirting with you.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“He was definitely flirting with you.”

“And if he was?”

Lando blinks. “I-”

You tilt your head. “Lando.”

“I didn’t like it.”

You cross your arms. “Why not?”

He stares at the ground. Rubs the back of his neck. Looks nothing like the confident, camera-ready version of himself from earlier.

Finally, he says, quietly, “I just really like you.”

You freeze.

“I know I’m not your type,” he adds quickly. “And I know you’re probably just being nice to me because I make dumb jokes and cook badly and follow you around like a puppy-”

“Lando-”

“-but I’d try, you know? To be whatever it is you’re looking for. Even if I’m not it.”

The words hang between you. Raw. Honest. Vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen from him before.

You laugh. Just a little. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s too much.

He looks crushed.

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “That wasn’t — I’m not laughing at you. I’m just … overwhelmed.”

His mouth twitches like he’s trying to smile through it.

You reach for his arm. “You don’t have to be anything else. You’re already …”

You stop. Your heart fills in the blank your brain can’t say.

You’re already it.

***

Back in the garage, you watch him from a distance. He’s talking to his engineers, gesturing wildly, helmet tucked under one arm.

He doesn’t glance your way.

For once, you’re the one staring.

Something’s shifted again. The line you’ve been walking is gone. Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

Maybe this thing — whatever it is — isn’t waiting to be defined.

Maybe it’s just becoming.

***

It starts with a subject line you don’t want to read.

RE: Return to Work Policy Update.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the villa’s sun-warmed patio, coffee cold beside you, when the email comes through. You stare at it for a full minute before opening it.

Then you read it. Reread it. And again.

By the time the words actually register, your throat is dry.

They want you back.

In the office. Full-time. Effective immediately.

No room for extension. No regard for the months of burnout, the time zone, the soft, tender recovery you’ve only just begun to trust.

The deadline sits there, bold and final: next Friday.

If you don’t return, they’ll consider it a resignation.

Your hands tremble. Not dramatically. Just enough to spill a little coffee when you try to pick up the mug.

You wipe it away with your sleeve. Then you close the laptop slowly, gently, like maybe that’ll keep the contents from being real.

***

Lando doesn’t notice at first.

You’re good at hiding. You always have been.

He bounds into the kitchen mid-morning, wearing swim trunks and no shirt, hair wet from the sea. “I made toast!” He announces proudly. “It’s only slightly burnt. Also, I may have used all the butter.”

You smile. Or something close to it.

He pauses. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“You wanna go for a swim?”

“Not right now.”

He watches you for a second longer than normal.

Then shrugs. “I’ll save you a good floaty.”

You nod.

But later, you don’t join him. You stay inside. You open a suitcase you haven’t touched in weeks. You fold slowly, carefully. As if touching your things too fast might make it all feel too real.

***

The villa shifts.

There’s a silence between you that hasn’t been there before. Not sharp, just … echoey.

You stop making jokes. Stop dancing in the kitchen. Stop stealing his hoodies and pretending not to.

Lando notices.

And he spirals.

First, he overcompensates — louder jokes, bolder breakfasts, compliments that sound like YouTube comments.

“You’re glowing today. Like, solar flare-level.”

“Okay.”

“That hoodie’s working overtime. Is that a new shade of existential dread?”

You manage a weak laugh. It makes him look relieved. Which only makes you feel worse.

Because none of this is his fault.

He doesn’t know.

You don’t tell him.

***

Wednesday, he plans the party.

He does it in secret. Sort of.

Oscar is in on it. So is Carlos — over FaceTime, mostly to say things like “Do not set anything on fire” and “Are you using actual TNT?”

Lando doesn’t care about the logistics. He just wants to make you smile.

“She’s leaving, I think,” he mutters, digging through drawers for balloons. “She hasn’t said it, but … I can tell.”

Oscar looks at him, concerned. “Did something happen?”

“Not exactly.” Lando shrugs. “I think I broke it.”

“You?”

“She’s … retreating. Like, emotionally. It’s like she’s packing her heart before her suitcase.”

Oscar frowns. “That’s poetic. Are you okay?”

Lando ignores the question. “I just want her to know she matters here. That this mattered. That I’ll-” He stops. Runs a hand through his curls. “-that I’ll miss her. So fucking much.”

***

The party is terrible.

Confetti ends up in the punch. The playlist is just ABBA and Martin Garrix on loop. Oscar bails halfway through. Carlos texts I warned you.

But the real problem is this.

You don’t show up.

Lando waits. He checks his phone. Checks the garden. The pool. The kitchen.

Nothing.

Eventually, he wanders outside. Something tells him to check the back.

That’s where he finds you.

Curled into yourself on a bench beneath the lemon tree, head bowed, fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt. Shoulders shaking.

He stops mid-step. Heart hammering.

“Hey.”

You flinch, barely.

He walks slowly, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he moves too fast.

“What’s wrong?” He asks gently.

You shake your head.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he admits. “But you’re-”

“I’m leaving,” you say suddenly, voice hoarse. “Next Friday. If I don’t go back, they’ll fire me.”

He blinks. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Lando sits beside you. Not close enough to touch. Just near.

You bury your face in your hands.

“I don’t want to go,” you whisper. “But I don’t know how to stay, either.”

And just like that, the dam breaks. The tears come fast, messy, embarrassing in their intensity.

You expect him to panic. To joke. To offer a stupid, misplaced solution.

He doesn’t.

He just slides closer. Wraps his arms around you.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he says softly, chin resting on your hair, “but I can sit here until you’re okay.”

You cling to him like he’s a life raft. And maybe he is.

You cry harder.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit. “I’ve spent years building a life I’m not even sure I want anymore.”

“Then don’t go back to it.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know who I am without it.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

Then, quietly, “I think you’re someone who deserves to choose. And be chosen.”

You pull back slightly. Just enough to look at him.

His eyes are red. Not from tears, just open. Vulnerable.

“Lando,” you whisper.

He leans in.

Slow. Careful. Like he’s waiting for you to stop him.

You don’t.

The kiss is gentle. Reverent. A question more than an answer.

You breathe into it. Let your hand slide to his jaw. Let yourself feel the way he sighs against your mouth, like kissing you is something he’s been holding in for weeks.

When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Stay,” he says, barely audible.

You close your eyes.

“I want to.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

***

You don’t decide to stay because of Lando.

Not exactly.

You decide to stay because the thought of packing up now — of folding all this softness into a suitcase and shipping it back to a life you’re no longer sure you chose — makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with clarity.

Lando doesn’t ask questions. He just finds you that morning in the kitchen, barefoot and bleary-eyed, scribbling a pros and cons list onto the back of an electric bill.

You don’t look up. You just say, “I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

He’s quiet for a second too long, and you glance up — worried he didn’t hear, or worse, that he did.

But then he grins. Huge. Bright. Like someone lit a fire inside him.

“You’re not leaving?”

“No.”

“Like … not leaving leaving?”

“For now.”

“For now,” he echoes, nodding, trying to play it cool. “Right. Yeah. Cool. Chill.”

You sip your coffee.

He bumps your shoulder. “So … does this mean I can keep introducing you as my emotionally exclusive, spiritually bonded non-girlfriend?”

You laugh into your mug. “That’s not a thing.”

“It could be. It sounds deep. Very committed. Like a tax bracket.”

“Just say girlfriend.”

“But we didn’t talk about it.”

“Then talk.”

He straightens, clears his throat dramatically. “Would you do me the honor of being my emotionally exclusive-”

“Lando.”

“Girlfriend. Would you be my girlfriend?”

You give him a long look. “Okay.”

He whoops and spins you around the kitchen before you can change your mind.

***

The days fall into place like dominoes after that.

Not perfect. Just … consistent. Yours.

Mornings start with half-burnt toast and Lando doing pushups in the living room because “I skipped the gym, babe. You want me to be weak?”

You steal his hoodies like it’s your job. He leaves little notes in your shoes like it’s his.

Sometimes, you fight. Over dumb stuff — who used the last clean towel, whether ketchup belongs in the fridge or the pantry, if “driver” is a real career or just a glorified Mario Kart enthusiast.

But the making up is easy.

It always has been, with him.

***

One afternoon, Lando walks into a coffee shop holding your hand and introduces you to the barista.

“This is my girlfriend.”

You blink. He hasn’t used the word out loud yet.

“Well,” he adds quickly, “not officially officially, but like, we’re emotionally exclusive. Spiritually connected. She knows where I keep my socks.”

The barista nods slowly, very confused.

You squeeze his hand. “We’re dating.”

“Oh,” she says, relieved. “Cool.”

Lando turns to you as soon as she walks away. “Was that weird?”

“A little.”

“Did I oversell it?”

“Maybe.”

“But you still like me?”

“Unfortunately.”

He beams. “Sucker.”

***

You record a video of him attempting to fold laundry and accidentally inventing a TikTok dance while pulling a hoodie inside out. It gets 300,000 likes overnight.

He tries to act modest. Fails completely.

“I’m an icon,” he says, scrolling through the comments. ‘Boyfriend energy — see that? That’s me. I am the boyfriend.”

You steal his phone.

“HEY!”

“No more reading comments. You’re unbearable.”

He leans in, eyes wide and innocent. “You knew what you signed up for.”

You did.

You just didn’t know it would feel this good.

***

Carlos calls during dinner one night. You’re sitting outside, feet in Lando’s lap, a half-eaten bowl of pasta between you.

Lando puts the call on speaker.

“Have you both burned down my villa yet?”

“Nope,” Lando says cheerfully. “Just christened all of it.”

You kick him.

Carlos sighs. “I knew letting you stay there was a mistake.”

You grin. “We’ll leave it better than we found it.”

“Good. Because I’m coming back next month.”

Lando chokes on his milk.

Carlos raises an eyebrow — visible even through the pixelation. “What?”

“Nothing. Cool. Chill. Welcome back, mate.”

You lean in. “We’ll be out before then.”

“Where are you going?”

Lando shrugs. “Nowhere far.”

Carlos stares suspiciously, but lets it go.

For now.

***

It happens on a Sunday.

You come home from the market, arms full of fresh herbs and way too many lemons because Lando said “go big or go home,” and walk into absolute chaos.

Smoke. Everywhere.

You freeze in the doorway.

“Lando?”

A pan clatters. “It’s fine!”

You drop the groceries and rush in. He’s waving a dish towel at the smoke detector, eyes watering.

“What did you do?”

“I was trying to make that shrimp thing you like!”

“I told you I was allergic to shellfish!”

He pauses. “Wait, shrimp counts as shellfish?”

You just stare.

“I thought it was like … seafood.”

“It is seafood!”

“So … not fish?”

You blink at him. “That’s your defense?”

He drops the towel. “I’m really bad at this.”

You cross your arms. “I noticed.”

He opens his mouth to keep digging the hole.

You laugh.

It surprises both of you.

“God,” you say, walking over, “you’re a disaster.”

“I tried to impress you!”

“With anaphylaxis?”

“I got confused!”

You wrap your arms around his waist, still laughing.

He exhales, relief flooding through him.

You tilt your head up. “Next time, just buy me a cupcake.”

He grins. “Can do.”

Then he kisses you. Slow, familiar. Like you have nowhere else to be.

And maybe you don’t.

Maybe this is it.

Maybe this mess of smoke and lemons and burnt fish-smelling air is yours.

***

Later, curled up on the couch in one of his shirts, you ask, “So what’s the plan when Carlos comes back?”

Lando taps something on his phone, pretending to be casual. “We … move?”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s your plan?”

He tosses the phone down and stretches, clearly trying to be nonchalant. “I mean, we can’t actually stay here forever.”

“No,” you admit.

“I’ve been looking at places.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, cheeks going pink. “Just, you know. In case we want … options.”

You lean your head against his shoulder. “And do we?”

“I do.”

He presses a kiss to your hair, then grins.

“Hey … do you know any good lawyers?”

You look up. “Why?”

“Because Carlos is definitely going to want his villa back. And I think I need legal counsel before I sign the papers on a new one.”

You laugh. “Are you trying to retain me?”

He grins. “Emotionally. Spiritually. Legally.”

You nudge him playfully. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you love it.”

You do.

And you’re staying.

***

Carlos arrives at the villa just after noon, sun-tanned and dead-eyed, dragging two suitcases and a single, unrelenting hope.

Peace. Quiet. Maybe a cold beer. No one yelling. No team meetings. No cameras.

Just Marbella, his lemon trees, and the blessed sound of absolutely nothing.

He exhales as he unlocks the front gate, breathing in the soft scent of sea salt and sunscreen. It’s good to be home.

Or so he thinks.

Because he hasn’t noticed the massive moving truck parked next door yet.

***

He’s halfway through unpacking — half a beer gone, half a suitcase open — when he hears it.

A crash. Then laughter. Then what sounds like, yep that’s Lando’s voice shouting, “Babe, I think I broke the blender but like … in a hot way?”

Carlos freezes.

“No,” he mutters. “No. No. No.”

He walks stiffly out to the garden wall, cranes his neck — and there, as if summoned by evil spirits and bad karma, is Lando.

Wearing a tank top, holding a screwdriver, grinning like the world is made of sunshine and Monster energy.

“CARLOS!” He yells, delighted. “You’re back!”

Carlos stares, horrified. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, right — funny story!” Lando sets the screwdriver down on what might once have been a blender. “We live here now.”

“You what?”

“Moved in last week.”

Carlos blinks. “Here? As in … next door?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that great?”

Carlos looks like he’s trying to mentally summon a lightning strike. “You bought that place?”

“Well, technically it’s still in escrow,” Lando says, wiping his hands on his shorts. “But spiritually, we’ve already moved in.”

Carlos glares.

Lando grins wider. “Wanna see the kitchen? We painted one of the walls blue by accident but I think it kind of slaps.”

Before Carlos can recover enough to yell, you step out from inside, wearing Lando’s hoodie and holding a glass of orange juice like you own the sun.

You freeze. “Oh.”

He blinks. “You’re here too?”

You smile sheepishly. “Hi, Carlos.”

Lando beams. “We’re neighbors!”

Carlos closes his eyes. “I need another beer.”

“Want one of ours?” Lando offers brightly. “I bought those fancy ones you like. The ones with the weird labels.”

Carlos opens one eye. “Did you drink all the ones in my fridge?”

“No! I have your beer memorized.”

“That’s not better.”

You snort, already laughing.

Carlos stares at the two of you, then sighs. “This was supposed to be my peaceful getaway.”

“We can be peaceful,” you promise.

Lando leans against the garden wall. “Super peaceful.”

A loud crash echoes behind him.

You wince. “What was that?”

Lando blinks. “Oh no. I left the microwave on.”

Carlos groans into his hands. “This is my nightmare.”

“C’mon, it’s us,” Lando says, grinning. “What could go wrong?”

Carlos doesn’t answer. He just walks back into his villa, muttering something about divine punishment.

***

From his kitchen, he can hear you both laughing through the open windows.

And weirdly, it kind of sounds like home.

[stxxrlights]

𝐄𝐗-𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

ex-husband!toji who was devastated when you asked for a divorce but knew it was gonna end up that way. the way he acted like he never cared, always acting sassy towards you even on the days he knew there was something wrong with you on that day. he didn't know that all that would lead up to you eventually wanting a divorce. he denied at first but after thinking it through, he knew it was for the best.

ex-husband!toji who cried himself to sleep the first few months after you had left. the house never felt so empty and quiet. the bed was so warm and everything looked so dull. he missed your warm touch, your weird but cute laugh, the stupid jokes you would tell him when you were getting too sleepy. and now all of that was gone. all because of his ignorance, his negligence. he had finally found happiness with you and he fucked it up. his heart aching whenever he though of you.

ex-husband!toji who resorted to drinking to full all the emotions he was feeling. wasting all of his money on alcohol, but it still didn't help. because even in his drunken state, he still acknowledge you as the love of his life. the one who was able to fix him. him getting a little sober when he comes back to his place calling your name and then remembering that you're gone.

ex-husband!toji who got a little too exited when you called him telling him that you left some important things. his heart is beating rapidly in his chest, a wide smile etched on his face as he hopes you don't get a hint of it either. as much as he wants you back, he does not want to appear too desperate.

ex-husband!toji who's hand was shaking when you rang the doorbell. he opened the door to see you looking as stunning as possible, while he felt like shit. he had heavy bags under his eyes, his beard disheveled and his eyes slightly red form the alcohol in his system and from crying.

ex-husband!toji who persuaded you to stay a little longer and have a chat. and was shocked that you agreed. it was kind of awkward at first, but the years of knowing each other didn't go to waste. you talked about the new place you got, and how you felt during your marriage, getting to understand your side and realizing what an asshole he was to you. but at least now he doesn't feel so lonely. at least today he can go to bed knowing that he got to have you close to him, even if it was only for about an hour.

ex-husband!toji who you agreed to stay friends with because you still cared about him. there were many memories of the both of you happy and in love, acting like complete fools, memories that still put a smile on your face. he was quite the experience, but circumstances made you let go. it was better for the both of you. but of course staying friends is not a big deal.

ex-husband!toji who slowly started getting his life back on track. shaving his stubble regularly, keeping the house clean, arranging his wardrobe and drinking way less that he was as well as working extra hard on his job so he can earn a lot of money and buy himself or you something nice. because at least he didn't fuck up that bad, right...?

ex-husband!toji who became a better person in general, to maintain your relationship. in hopes of trying to get you back. slowly, it was a process. getting you to trust him, just like the first time and making you realize that you miss him and being with him just as much as he does and eventually confessing your feelings to him like the first time. it was genius, really.

ex-husband!toji who gets heart broken when he finds out you've moved on. moved on to a guy more handsome, younger, richer and clearly treats you better than he ever did. he's stunned when you introduce them to one another, not knowing what to say. a fake wobbly smile is plastered on his face as he shakes hands with your new man. he congratulates you. what else is there to say? but he realizes now that he's lost you. there was no chance you were ever going to be together again. nome at all...

comments and reblogs are appreciated

[chimerafeathers]

#i don’t go here but i think mirabelle had every right to react the way she did #how was she supposed to know siffrin cared at all if they were acting like he didn’t? #secret goodness only gets you so far if you aren’t willing to be honest about it with the people you love (via @kaiju-lightning)

i don't know to what degree you "don't go here" (what context or information you have or don't have outside of what's in this post) but, if you didn't know, Siffrin isn't like. some asshole with a secret ultra-hidden deep-down heart of gold that no one can see. they're just kind of quiet a lot of the time, and when they do speak up, it's usually either lightly jokey or very sweetly supportive. Mirabelle doubting his motives is VERY much fueled by her anxiety; none of the others (including Bonnie, a pre-teen) sincerely think that Siffrin doesn't care about them, even after Siffrin spends a day burning all their bridges.

more specific spoilers ahead!

there's a flashback in the very beginning of the game where Siffrin remembers Mirabelle checking in with them, trying to make sure he's really willing to be on a dangerous quest with her, and he tells her point-blank that traveling with them all is the happiest he's ever been. they're being completely honest, but Mirabelle doesn't really know that! because like! how could that possibly be true?? they're on a dangerous quest that they may not survive, for a country that he has no ties to, AND THEY JUST LOST AN EYE??? it doesn't make sense that nothing in his life made him happier than they are right now! maybe they're teasing her, or just trying to make her feel better, or something that would make more sense than that.

Siffrin's also in the habit of reminding Mirabelle not to bite her nails too much when she's feeling anxious. they start visibly panicking whenever they think someone is upset (especially if he thinks it's his fault or it's aimed at him). they lost their eye protecting Bonnie and only really cared that Bonnie was safe afterwards. he spends a lot of time trying to be quietly reassuring or keeping people happy with his jokes. Isabeau at one point calls them nice, and says he "always listens to what everyone has to say, and always tries to give advice even though they're not always very good at it"—that's all specifically about pre-time-loop behavior!

it's really not a secret AT ALL that Siffrin cares about the party in general. the "secret" part is how MUCH and how DEEPLY they care. it's the difference between "yeah, we had a great time together! i really enjoyed hanging out with you. we should keep in touch and hang out again sometime" (where everyone thinks everyone else is at, emotionally) and "i care about all of you more than anyone else i've ever known and the thought of you leaving is painful, but i can't bear to ask you to stay with me when you all have lives and homes and jobs and families to get back to and i don't want to keep you from your goals. i'm fine with just 'keeping in touch.' it's FINE"

it's also worth noting that the "secret" part is also kiiiiinda a secret even to Siffrin himself? as in, they're trying so hard to accept the fact that everyone will leave, that it's completely normal and natural for them to go back to their own lives, that they're shoving all their feelings about that into a tiny box and burying it in the back of their mind.

all of this to say, yes, Mirabelle absolutely has a right to be upset when Siffrin hurts her! but the reason she reacts so strongly is that she struggles much more than the others to consistently read Siffrin's behavior as sincerely friendly, because of her own anxiety and hangups. it's NOT because Siffrin is outwardly cold, callous, rude, flippant, or anything like that at a baseline.

hope that clears things up!

i really love how intensely Mirabelle reacts to act 5 Siffrin botched friendquest.

Isabeau is mostly operating out of concern and, eventually, hurt. he already knows something’s up before Siffrin gets to him. he knows something truly awful must be wrong for Siffrin to be lashing out like they are, and as soon as he can’t handle the situation anymore, he leaves and asks (with strained cheer) for time apart to cool off.

most of Bonnie’s anger comes from being upset and afraid that Siffrin would willingly put themself in danger for no reason, when that’s exactly why they’ve been so unsettled since the eye incident. they hate that Siffrin values their own life so little, they hate that they’re the cause of any pain or loss for him, and here he is, putting himself in that situation AGAIN. on purpose. it’s loud and explosive, but it’s familiar, too, being “hated” by Bonnie for this reason.

Odile pushes, and keeps pushing, until her concern overwhelms Siffrin and they strike where they know she’s most vulnerable. she gets physical, just for a moment, grabbing his collar before controlling herself and letting go. her fury shuts down into cold detachment, and she walks away.

but Mirabelle—dear, sweet, gentle, loving Mirabelle, “the most wonderful being on earth,” with her secret “ruthless side” that largely involves lightly badmouthing people behind their backs and then apologizing—slaps them. immediately.

and then COMPLETELY RENOUNCES THEIR FRIENDSHIP.

not just “we’re not friends anymore,” but “we were never friends in the first place.”

that’s!!! pretty extreme!!!!

of course, she ALSO starts by asking what’s wrong. something must have happened for him to act like this. but as soon as Siffrin brushes her off, she jumps past that line of questioning and dives headfirst into re-evaluating everything she thought she knew about them as a a person.

if he could say something like that to her and not see anything wrong with it, then she was wrong to treat him as a friend, wrong to read camaraderie into his teasing, wrong to think they must care about them all under their aloof demeanor.

that’s how Mirabelle phrases it—“I was wrong about you”—but i think that there’s a hidden layer of I was right about you, too.

she talks about the way they tease her like she had to convince herself that he was doing it in a friendly way. she says they talk like they “know better than her” like that’s a thought she’s had for a LONG time.

“Always soooo mysterious, Siffrin, always talking as if you're better than me! As if you know me!!! But you don't, Siffrin!!! You're just as lost and useless as I am!!! So stop!!! Talking!!! As if you know me!!!!!!”

none of this comes across as a new, sudden way to view Siffrin for her. it doesn’t shock or confuse her. it makes her angry, defensive, almost like she was waiting for something like this to happen at some point. the feeling of resentment, frustration, jealousy, being patronized and condescended to—this is something she’s been actively pushing down and rejecting this entire time, but they’ve given her ample reason for it all to boil to the surface. violently.

Mirabelle’s kindness is not inherent or easy. it’s a choice she’s making. she treats Siffrin warmly because she gives him the benefit of the doubt—refusing to act based on anxiety-fueled, cynical speculation, and reassuring herself that his actions are driven by care and friendship even if she can’t quite see it.

“I was wrong about you” doesn’t mean she always and without question believed them to be a fundamentally kind, caring person from the beginning—it’s that her first, colder instincts were right, and she was wrong to convince herself otherwise.

never mind that she asked what was wrong at first. she barely gives them time to speak in their own defense, to explain what they really meant by what they said. all of her suppressed doubts and frustrations are getting aired out now, now that all the trust she’d so deliberately placed in him has been betrayed. her pain feels bigger than this singular moment, so when she hurts him back, she makes sure it extends back through the entirety of their relationship for him, too.

“You're awful. You're not my friend, not my ally, not anything. You never were.”

like the others, she goes back to the clocktower and tells Siffrin not to come back until later. but there’s a finality to the way she ends this confrontation that isn’t quite there with the others. Isabeau and Odile reach their breaking point and remove themselves from the situation, asking for space to cool off but still somewhat leaving the door open for Siffrin to tell them what’s really going on at some point. Mirabelle is the only one who tries to fully cut ties—after everything else she says, her “I don’t want to see you until tonight” reads to me somewhat as “I don’t want to see you anymore unless I have to.”

I can’t wait to never see you again.

even back at the clocktower, Mirabelle doesn’t really defend Siffrin’s place in the party when Odile suggests leaving them behind out of concern for their trustworthiness on the most important day of the journey. Isabeau and Bonnie protest out of sentimentality and faith in Siffrin’s abilities and connection to them, and Mirabelle agrees, but…

“I agree, but... B-But would he even agree to come with us, still? Maybe they won't even come back tonight...”

she doesn’t say much outside of that. maybe the stutter and hesitation here are signs of regret about how things happened, but she lacks Isabeau and Bonnie’s confidence that Siffrin even wants to come back to them in the first place. she doesn’t trust that their bond was real anymore. maybe it never was in the first place, or maybe she broke whatever was there herself.

and she’s still mad when they finally catch up to Siffrin at the King! and she makes sure Siffrin knows that—after saving them, assuring him that he no longer needs to fight, that they’re all there for him. she still cares, of course she still cares—she’s still hurt, too, but they can figure that part out once there’s less world-ending stuff going on.

she’s the first to say that they all reserve the right to still be angry at Siffrin later—and that they’ve already forgiven him.

she’s also the first to say we want to stay with you, too. it’s not just you.

she was wrong! she thought they didn’t care but they care so much, it’s overwhelming, it’s world-ending.

i think she’s gonna be wallowing in guilt post-canon the moment she remembers what she said and did TO SIFFRIN and not just what Siffrin said to her. especially now that she knows Siffrin’s exact hangups, and especially especially if she figures out what Siffrin was trying to say.

they put themself through hell out of loneliness and fear that none of the others cared about him the way he cared about them, he was going insane from repetition and exhaustion and hunger and trying to keep them all safe and together, and all they did in the midst of all that was say something kind of mean to her one time (that turned out to not even be MEANT to be mean it was supposed to be HELPFUL they just SAID IT ALL WRONG) and she SLAPPED THEM? and told him that they WEREN’T FRIENDS AT ALL??? how could she!!! she should have known better!! what they said hurt a lot but still!!!

so when they eventually manage to try to talk about it, they end up almost in, like, a guilt competition.

Mirabelle apologizing for how she reacted, that she shouldn’t have yelled or hit him, that she doesn’t want to be the kind of person who acts that way out of anger and she’s sorry that she made Siffrin expect that reaction from her, she should have known better and believed in him more and they only messed up like that because they were losing their mind in a time loop but what’s HER excuse—

and Siffrin going nononono stop I deserved it—(HUH DON’T SAY THAT NO YOU DIDN’T)—and that he should never have said such awful things to her, ever, and she was under so much pressure already with the weight of the country and everyone’s lives and futures and her religion and their whole party counting on her to do this impossible task because she’s the only one who can, all this unbearable expectation and hope crushing her, and they KNEW that but they thought they could skip to the ending as though her feelings didn’t matter at all, like helping her wasn’t as important as saving a little time—

until they’re just. in tears together, apologizing for all the horrible things they did in between complimenting each other’s strength and kindness and resilience and how much they admire each other and saying that no, everything you did was completely understandable, actually, the only one who sucks here is me. which neither of them will accept coming from the other!!

they’re so similar, in ways they couldn’t really understand, before.

warm, affectionate, perfect Mirabelle, the resolute hero, a beacon of compassion and hope for all those around her, who wears her heart on her sleeve, her fear making her courage shine all the brighter—nothing like the insignificant, forgettable Siffrin, too terrified to be known, too fragile to touch, too selfish and disgusting to bear letting go.

cool, mysterious, unflappable Siffrin, the worldly traveler, as charming and silly as they are confident and skilled, who brushed off losing an eye like it was nothing, accepting the risks of this journey with barely more than a shrug—nothing like the anxious, stagnant, underserving Mirabelle, a fraud and a nobody crumbling under the weight of a mission too important to be entrusted to someone like her, doubting herself, doubting her friends, doubting her mentor, doubting her faith, too weak and brittle to bend and change the way the world needs her to without breaking.

not worth bothering others with their problems. they should be able to handle this alone. stay positive, stay calm. breathe in, and out.

they’ll struggle with it, still—the hiding, the minimizing—but now, they understand each other a little better. they can hold each other accountable for what they leave unsaid.

it’ll get easier, eventually. they have plenty of time.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (6)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: life comes at ya fast…updates will come as I have more inspo and time to write. :) this is unedited

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: cunnilingus, slight coercion (but is it really if she wants it?).

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Midweek comes around slower than you’d like and it feels as though your days are dragging on the more you try to tie up loose ends and review resumes of potential candidates. 

Sunghoon has agreed to transfer some of the responsibilities onto the secretaries for the time being. They’ll be responsible for attending meetings in-office and other tasks that can be taken off of your plate as you focus on what’s at hand. 

“Are you any closer to finding me a new assistant?”

He asks this at least once every few hours. He’ll do it when he hears you typing away on your keyboard or when you’ve neglected to hear him call you from the door. Sunghoon says it with a smile that looks too playful for your liking. 

“Not any closer than I was since the last time you asked me.” 

“Shame. But perfection takes time, doesn't it?”

You roll your eyes. “Come in and close the door, will you? It’s hot as shit outside and you’re letting all of my cold air out.” 

“Maintenance is working on fixing the air conditioning in the main areas. My office isn’t as cold as yours, I’ll say that.”

“Maintenance likes me better.”

“Nuh uh.” 

You look up from your monitor. “What are you, a child?”

“Maybe.” You roll your eyes again and focus back on your work. “Any candidates I should know about?”

“Are you asking me because you’re interested or because you’re bored?”

“Is there any difference?”

“Yes. You either care about who’s going to take over my position once I’m gone, or you enjoy watching me suffer by being in my presence.” 

“The latter, actually. You’re cute when you’re angry at me.” You scowl at him. “See? Cute.” 

“I’m not cute.”

“You say that, and yet you are.” 

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re really cute, especially with my hand between your legs.” Your face grows hot and Sunghoon grins when he realizes he’s rendered you speechless. 

“If you aren’t going to be of any help, might as well go back to your office and do your job.” 

Sunghoon puts both hands up. “Alright, alright. I did come here with the intention of an update, though. Heeseung mentioned you’ve made some progress when I saw him earlier this morning.” 

“Some. I’ve been getting hundreds and hundreds of applications, and it’s getting hard to sift through all of them.”

“What kind of things are you looking for?” 

“Experience, mostly. Someone who meets half of these qualifications and won’t be an ass about it.”

“Got any contenders?” 

“I haven’t met with anyone yet, so I can’t be so sure right now. I’m in correspondence with some to meet at the office next week for an initial interview before I decide.”

“How many interviews?”

“Three. One introduction, a second so they can see the office, and a third with you.”

“With me?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you. I need you to like your assistant.” 

“The way I like you?”

You near your throat. 

“I surely hope not.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I just need an assistant who can handle the job and not complain about it too much.” 

“That’s the goal.”

“Who are you meeting with next week?” 

“Cho Miyeon’s coming on Monday morning and Kang Taehyun will be coming the same afternoon.”

“Yang Jungwon on Tuesday too, huh?” Sunghoon peers over your shoulder and stares at your calendar. “You’ve got a busy week.”

“I’m doing my best. My workload is being shared while I look for my replacement, so it’s not too bad. Don’t get any ideas and add things on my docket, though.”

“Well…”

You sigh. “Sunghoon, please. I’m trying to be diligent and do right by you, but you’re making me want to quit on the spot.” 

“Hear me out at least, okay?” 

Sunghoon sits on the edge of your desk and sees the top button of your blouse unbuttoned. It’s not enough for him to see your bra underneath, but his mouth runs dry thinking about it. 

“It’s our turn to choose a restaurant for the next quarterly dinner party. As you know, it’s important because we as a company build internal connections and reward those who work under us with an all expenses paid meal.”

“Plus quarterly bonuses from the respective employers.”

He nods. “Yes, plus the bonuses. Anyway, I’ve booked a reservation at a highly rated Spanish place that serves tapas style for tonight. Cool, huh?” 

“You cannot seriously expect me to drop my plans to work.” 

“You don’t have plans.”

“Okay, fair point. But Pochi, Sunghoon. And I don’t want to work!”

“We won’t be out until late into the evening, if you’re worried about feeding her. We’ll leave the office early and I’ll have you home before nine. And you won’t be working. Not really.” 

“Asking me to try food for a work event is considered work.”

“Just come with me, okay? If you like it, we’ll host the party there. If not, we try another one on the list.”

“What list?”

Sunghoon merely smiles but he doesn’t explain further. “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself hungry and we’ll leave at five.”

“You, leaving work at five…”

“Early, I know.” Sunghoon laughs. “So what do you say?”

“I say you want me to ignore all of my tasks and distract me with food. Why can’t you go with another assistant who actually gives a shit about this party?”

“Because I care about your opinion, not theirs.” 

“I don’t have time to entertain this when it’s not on my immediate priority list. You can bring Jongseong to dinner, for all I care. He’ll appreciate that more than me.” 

Before you know it, he’s on the floor and turning your chair to face him. 

“Sunghoon!” 

He situates himself between your legs and spreads them apart by pushing your knees away. His fingertips gently touch your skin and inch up the skirt you’re wearing, pushing the fabric up your thigh. Your resolve seems to crumble when you see him like this and look around hastily. 

“W-What are you doing?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t speak. He looks at you and smiles like he knows something you don’t.

“My window is open,” you say in a haste, trying to push his hands away from your legs. 

Sunghoon merely laughs and leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your knee while maintaining eye contact. You sit frozen in your chair as you watch him stand, eyes trained on his semi-hard cock outlined in his trousers. He makes no fuss and faces the windows to close the blinds before turning back to look at you.

“Better?” 

All you can do is nod. Sunghoon drinks you in with his eyes. His gaze starts at the bottom of your heels until you feel his stare drag up your body, locked in on the flesh of your collarbones until his eyes meet yours. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when he’s looking at you like that, never mind the fact that the outline of his dick is practically at eye level. 

He brings his hand to his mouth and rubs his jaw, huffing something you can’t quite make out. He then resumes his positions on his knees and this time, you don’t complain when Sunghoon pries your legs apart. 

“Can I try to convince you?” he asks in a sultry tone. His voice might as well be made of soft velvet and you find yourself nodding. “Yeah? Can I have my way with you right here?” 

Sunghoon has his answer when you widen your legs before him and parts his mouth like he’s in awe. He observed the way your skirt rides up your thighs even more, then shifts his gaze to your covered cunt. Sunghoon looks like he might as well be high; his gaze is hyper focused between your legs and his well you panties mold to the shape of your cunt. 

His bottom lip becomes wet with his saliva and you’re almost positive that Sunghoon would start drooling the longer he looks at you. His hands delicately hold your ankles in place when you brush your thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re drooling.” Sunghoon looks up at you.

“I can’t help it,” he says, kissing the pad of your thumb. “You’re so perfect down here.” 

Your cheeks flush for the umpteenth time. Sunghoon’s hands move from your ankles to gently caress the outer skin of your calves before he brings one hand to push your skirt until it sits just below your waist. You lift your hips to help him and settle back down in your chair at a steep slouch. 

Sunghoon holds you there and you feel as if you’re being presented on a platter. Still unused to being like this in front of him, you resist the urge to close your legs to prevent yourself from being even more flushed than you already are. He pushes his face between your legs and gives one, long kiss to your covered slit. 

“So perfect.” Sunghoon mumbles against you, and you suck in a quick breath. He sticks his tongue out to taste the wet slick soaking from the fabric. “That’s really good.” 

Never in a million years would you have ever guessed how good Sunghoon looks on his knees. He’s brash and confident, proud and stoic. The ease in which Sunghoon fell to his knees knowing he’d see what you hide between your legs makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Sunghoon, who stands down for no one, kneels on his knees for you. 

He pulls your body down and brings his tongue all over your covered cunt. The surface of his tongue makes you clench against him and buck your hips. Sunghoon chases after it, pushing against you harder than merely grazing like he was previously. He licks a confident stripe and laps at your panties like a kitten drinking milk. 

His ginormous hands and caresses your outer thigh like he’s trying to make you relaxed and unashamed of the pleasure he wants to give you. You’re reminiscent of how you felt the morning Sunghoon’s hands were on you for the first time—nervous, excited, and extremely horny. 

When Sunghoon pulls your panties to the side to reveal your lap to him, he groans and his warm breath makes a shove run down your spine. He admires the way your pussy clenches in front of him and kisses your naked slit like he’s trying to reassure you.

“Relax, love. It’s just me.”

“Kind of hard to relax.” 

“Why?” Sunghoon kisses your slit once more and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m not used to people looking at me like this.” 

He looks up. “Get used to me between your legs.” 

When you deal with Sunghoon’s demands during working hours, you’re a force to be reckoned with. He’s stubborn and loves to fight back until you frustratingly give up or until you’ve backed him into a corner. You’re used to his hotheaded tendencies and never back down if you can help it.

But Sunghoon’s hands keep you locked before him so gently that it makes you think you’ve got nothing to worry about. His fingers caress your skin in a way that makes you tingle with excitement and lust, and it’s been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone. 

He can feel your body respond to him when you loosen the tightness in your hips and let your legs fall beside him. Sunghoon’s mouth kisses your outer lips and avoids your clit, but the feeling is all the same when you haven’t been in this position in years. He takes his time, moving his plush and moistened lips across your skin like he’s mapping out every inch of you.

Sunghoon’s head moves to your inner thigh and his hair brushes your skin. His eyes remained closed as if to savor the taste of your body. You can’t seem to look at anything but him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you close your eyes and allow yourself to lose yourself in his touch.

Feeling so exposed is out of your comfort zone. You feel completely naked in front of him despite wearing a blouse and a skirt, technically. The sheer act of intimacy, even if Sunghoon walks away from you forever after he’s done kissing you between your legs, still feels like more than a mere hookup like your previous experiences. 

Sunghoon is still fully dressed and you wonder if he’s as hard as he was before kneeling. Your mind races when he switches legs and kisses all the way to the inner portion of your knee, dabbing gentle pecks that makes your heart race much faster than you would’ve ever anticipated. 

He must know by now you’re as inexperienced as a woman your age could be. It’s never for the lack of trying; men leave you disappointed and the pool of new lovers falls short when you aren’t the type of person to lose yourself in strangers who will never love you back. Sunghoon touches you like he’s more than somebody you’ve worked with for the last six years. It scares and excites you all at once. 

His breath ghosts over your cunt before he sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe. It feels like the entire surface of his tongue covers the entirety without a single inch being undiscovered by his mouth, and the sensation makes your toes curl in your heels. It’s enough to make your back arch slightly. Sunghoon watches you and puts both of his hands at the side of your hips to keep you steady before him. 

Sunghoon takes his time and doesn’t rush it like you think he will. He sounded so desperate to get you to agree to come with him to dinner tonight. You were sure he’d get on both hands and knees like a dog to beckon you to come. The sense of urgency seems to have been tossed out the window when he closed the blinds. Despite being in your office and hearing faint sounds of the copy printed from outside the doors, you feel like it’s just the two of you existing in the same space. 

His tongue moves up and down your slit slowly. Sunghoon’s eyelashes are long and dark, fluttering against his cheek with every pass. You wonder if this is what he looks like when you’re kissing him. It’s unfair how sexy he looks when his tongue is coated in your slick and when he’s sighing against your pussy like this is a meal that has finally satisfied his craving. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs against you the second he pushes his tongue past your folds. The vibrations continue to add to your pleasure and you buck your hips against his face. 

“S-Stop talking.”

He chuckles. “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

You shake your head stubbornly. Sunghoon hums like he doesn’t believe you. His fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer to his face instantly, latching onto your cunt with the urgency you anticipated beforehand. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you to the point where you grip the handles of your chair until your knuckles feel sore. Your palms have grown sweaty and you fear you’re losing your grip on both the chair and your sanity. 

He looks up at you before taking one hand and putting it in his hair. It’s like a foreign instinct takes over. Your hand grips his hair until you’re holding his head in place. His eyes flicker back to yours before focusing on lapping up your wetness, no doubt coating the lower half of his face in it. 

There’s no real method he’s adhering to. It’s messy and growing louder by the second with his saliva mixing in with your juices. Sunghoon slurps you up like he’s trying to taste all of you at once and flexes his jaw to accommodate shoving his tongue inside of your folds and thrusting. 

Your legs eventually wrap around his shoulders and Sunghoon can feel your heel digging into his suit jacket. He doesn’t mind. You’re sure this encourages him to fuck you like this harder because his tongue moves in circles inside of you when your thighs keep his head locked in place. His dark brown eyes open to look right at you and the moans you’ve been holding in escape. 

Sunghoon moans against you too. Your whimpers and short breath sent the blood straight to his cock, but he knows this isn’t the time nor the place to make you moan the way he wants you to. He’ll take what he can get, but that single, deep moan that came from his tongue bouncing over your clit makes him think it would be worth it for everybody to hear you come.

He looks so good with your thighs suffocating his face. Sunghoon doesn’t complain, he just puts his hands on your thighs and squeezes you to keep them there. Your hips start to chase his mouth when you feel your orgasm building and when Sunghoon sees your chest heaving off of the chair, he keeps his steady position and flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. 

You don’t even realize your hips are rolling against his mouth until you come against Sunghoon’s tongue. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he laps it up, opening his mouth as best as he can with your legs still wrapped around his face. He moans when he tastes all you have to offer and bucks his hips to grind against the tightness of his slacks when he sees your eyes wired shut and mouth gaping. 

The grip on his hair loosens when your body relaxes and so does the grip on your legs. Your breath feels much heavier than before and when you open your eyes, Sunghoon’s looking at you with a drunken smile on his face. Your cheeks instantly heat up and you try to pry your legs back down, but he keeps you steady there and moves his head to kiss you on each thigh.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

“S-Sunghoon…”

“Yeah, love?” 

You blush harder. “You’re just…” 

“I’m just what?” 

You avoid eye contact. “You looked really hot.” 

He laughs and you feel his eyes still staring at you. Sunghoon lets go of your legs and helps settle them back down on the ground before pushing your panties back in its proper place. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and sits on the back of his knees to help you regain balance and sit upright in your chair as you fix your skirt in an attempt to look decent. 

“You did so well for me,” he says, pushing upwards to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his lips. Sunghoon braces himself on your thighs and his palms feel comforting. 

“I-I can’t believe I let you do that in my office.”

“Such a rebel, hm?” Sunghoon chuckles between kisses before pulling back to look at you. “Did that convince you to come with me tonight?” 

You nod shyly. “I don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who can be bribed by sex, though.”

“I don’t think that of you. Matter of fact, I know I had you reeled in when I told you I’d take care of the details.” 

“Hmph.”

“I ate you out because I wanted to.”

Sunghoon kisses you again before standing up. The sheer size of it makes your mouth water and you see the small, wet stain left by his precum. He watches you with fascination and watches your hand reach out with hesitation, pulling back before you’ll do something you might regret. 

He doesn’t force you to touch him, nor does he ask you to do anything in return. You watch him with hooded eyes and the sight of you looking up at him while he stands will fuel his dreams for days to come. 

“You’re hard.” 

“That I am.”

“All that from eating me out?”

He laughs. “You underestimate how much I’m attracted to you.”

Your eyes flicker up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So much that I ate your cute little pussy in your office.” 

You swat the side of his thigh and look away from him. “I…My pussy isn’t cute.”

“So cute and so tight. Felt it with my fingers and I felt it again with my tongue. Can’t help but wonder what it’ll feel like with my dick.” 

“Sunghoon!” 

“Too soon?” The blush on your face gives your desire away, but he laughs and backs off. 

“I have a pair of fresh slacks in my office. Let’s finish the rest of today and then we’ll head over for dinner, yeah?”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re gonna walk out of my office while you’re hard?” 

“It’s like, two inches from yours.” 

“People could see.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

You huff. “Let people see how hard you get for me, for all I care.” 

Sunghoon smirks. “Atta girl. I think I just might.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like me to be.”

You don’t argue with him. You both know he’s right. He eventually makes his way to the front door and is about to leave before he comes back around your desk. Sunghoon takes you by surprise and leans down to kiss your lips once more before wordlessly exiting your office.

It takes a great deal of strength to stand up and open the blinds.

***

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[maruflix]

BOYS BEWARE! #variouscharacters #windbreaker #f!reader

the boys know that you are the town’s most notorious heartbreaker. it would be stupid for them to involve themselves with you. it’s not like they didn’t know that they’re sharing you with their own friends— but damn you look fine. / REQ.

feat. sakura, suo, kaji, umemiya, togame, endo, takiishi　　⎯⎯　wc. 4.1k

content: female reader, REVERSE HAREM, reader is a heartbreaker, pre-established relationship, they fall in love first, they fall in love harder, reader is either toxic or playful depending on how you look at it, OKAY READER IS KINDA TOXIC, this is a brainrot and a passion project god bless whoever sent this request, no beta we die like my hopes and dreams

SAKURA HARUKA -> MET A BOY FROM OUTTA TOWN...

Sakura doesn’t know how to express his emotions, so he usually lets them rot and die inside him, preferring to ignore them until they disappear.

He never succeeds to do so whenever you come around. All it takes is one smile. One smile from you and he’s completely defenseless at your mercy.

“I-is this guy bothering you?” Sakura’s attempt to sound gruff seems to fool the dumbass who thinks he’s got a chance with you. He eyes down the weak looking eyesore who kept bothering you since five minutes ago. The pathetic creature couldn’t even look him in the eye.

You flash him a smile. That damn smile. He feels like he’s going to choke.

“He is!” you sigh, tugging the sleeve of his jacket, “Are you here on patrol?”

The weakling knows to make himself scarce, leaving Sakura standing alone with you. He hopes you can’t hear his heart thundering inside his ribcage.

“Yes. I came to give you this.” He clumsily hands you a small box of your favorite cake, almost dropping it in the process and quickly adding, “I-I accidentally bought extra!”

You’re now blinking your gorgeous eyes, surprised, but reach out to take it anyway. “Oh, Haruka-kun! You’re so thoughtful!”

The way his name rolls out your tongue makes him go insane.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” Giggling, you hug his arm, accidentally brushing your head against his shoulder..

Just when he’s about to ask you if you had any plans that weekend, he sees that your line of vision has shifted away from him. He follows it to see Suo standing a couple feet away, smiling.

Oh.

He looks down to see you already smiling up at him like nothing happened. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Haruka-kun! Maybe we can watch a movie together this weekend?”

His heart leaps; so you also want to spend more time with him! He’s just about to say that he’d really, really want that— but you’re already slipping away from his grasp into the direction of his best friend.

You turn your head once more to look at him, “Text me!” before skipping away.

It’s okay, Sakura convinces himself, I’ll definitely text you first.

The warmth of you still lingers on his arm.

SUO HAYATO -> I HELD THE KNIFE BUT YOU HAD THE GUN

Why does Suo still waste his time with you?

He wonders the same thing when he stares at you, eating in front of him.

You eat without a care in the world. Then again, you never seem to care about anything. He just wishes that you’d care about him more. What did you think he was going to feel when he sees you in the arms of Sakura freaking Haruka in the middle of the day? But then again, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything, so it’s not like he had a say—

“Hayato-kun, aren’t you gonna eat?”

Suo blinks, looking down at his half-eaten salad. He’s supposed to be on a diet, but he’d gladly eat a five course meal if it meant being able to spend time with you. “Sorry!” he smiles, “I was too busy staring at you, it seems!” Other people would’ve gotten flustered with his teasing. Suo knows he’s handsome and talks well.

“Oh?” you tilt your head, “do I look pretty today? You’ve been staring a lot~”

Suo’s gaze snaps back to you, his heart skipping a beat. He instantly regrets it when he sees you smiling at him teasingly, a lock of hair falling in front of your face perfectly.

“Very.” he breathes out, brushing your hair away from your face. Hoping that it’d be enough to finally fluster you. Hoping that he can finally win against you for once.

He didn’t expect you to blush. The red tinting your cheeks makes you glow. “Hayato-kun, a surprise attack like that is not fair..”

Suo feels like he’s finally reclaiming himself. Redeeming himself from the devil that is you. Feeling brave, he moves his hand to rest on top of yours, not missing the way your eyes widen ever so slightly. Maybe, maybe....

“What..?”

“It’s my birthday this week.” He starts, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “do you have any plans?”

In truth, he knows that you already plan on spending the weekend with Kaji Ren (how can he not know, when Kaji blabs to everyone about it?) but he wonders if you’ll choose to be with him instead. He tried not to be desperate but he already knew there’s no fooling you, not when the corners of your lips lift ever so slightly—

“Oh, really?!”

He can see that the gears in your brain are turning, your pretty eyes flitting across the room to find an excuse. Still, the enthusiasm in your voice left him hoping.

“I forgot! You know how bad I am with my own schedule..”

Suo exhales, trying not to look disappointed.

“But I’ll definitely cancel them to give you a surprise party!” You pull his hands to hold them tight, a serious look on your face, “Wait. It’s not a surprise if I tell you beforehand, is it?”

The twinkle in your eyes makes Suo wonder if you’ve expected this test. He may have won this fight, but he’s destined to lose the war. There’s just no winning against you.

Even so, he has won this fight... and he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else.

KAJI REN -> YOU CHEW MY HEART LIKE BUBBLEGUM !

Kaji tries to not go overboard, but he did anyway.

He’s tailored the hangout to your exact liking, booking everything two weeks in advance, making you squeal in joy when he tells you that he secured a spot in that hip new café that you keep eyeing during walks.

So when you fail to show up, Kaji knew that it was because of another man. He may be oblivious sometimes but he’s not stupid. There’s no way you cancelled on him last minute to feed your grandma’s cat. Your grandma died two months ago for God’s sake.

That’s why he’s steeled his heart to finally break away from your grasp. He can’t keep hurting himself and hoping you’d finally see him as your only love. He’s not stupid.

“I’m sorry, Ren-kun... you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

He refuses to look at you, knowing that he’d fold the instant he sees those gorgeous eyes.

“I messed up.. I have no excuse..”

“Why?” he asks, demands for you to say it with your own mouth. Say that you chose another man over him.

“Okay. I’ll tell you the truth.” You bent down to look at him, unrelenting even when he stares at you coldly, “It was Hayato-kun’s birthday yesterday. I threw him a surprise party with Haruka-kun and Nirei-kun.”

There’s a rare sincerity in your words, a fragile honesty that makes him both relieved and forlorn. “Thank you for telling the truth.” He didn’t want you to see him cry, so he gets up and starts to walk away.

“Wait! Ren-kun!” You call after him, making him walk faster. His eyes are already starting to burn. He had wanted you to tell him the truth, so why does it still hurt this much?

“Oof!”

The sudden thud makes him stop dead in his tracks. The unmistakable sound of a crash. He spins around, seeing you bent over on the ground, holding your knee. His heart drops, already forgetting the reason he walked away in the first place.

“Why are you so clumsy?!” He chides, squatting down next to you. The red in your knee is starting to drip down to your ankle. Guilt bubbles up in his throat, blocking his airway. You’re bleeding because of him.

“Sorry, I can’t even walk right..” you’re still smiling even when tears are streaming down your face. Even then, you look radiant.

“Climb up.” He offers his back, almost losing his mind from the guilt and worry.

“I can’t receive any more of your kindness,” your voice is small behind him, “I’m a horrible friend..”

Kaji wants to yell at you to prioritize yourself more, to tell you that he’ll probably sulk for a day before returning to you with a wagging tail— but all his words get caught in his throat when he sees you crying.

What can he do, except pull you into his embrace?

You melt almost instantly, sobbing apologies after apologies.

What can he do, except tell you that it doesn’t matter and he’s the one at fault?

Fuck it. He is stupid, he is dumb— and he will continue to be, if it means being able to hold you in his arms.

UMEMIYA HAJIME -> SHE MAKES THEM FALL DOWN TO THEIR KNEES AND CRY

Umemiya thinks that he has an advantage over the other guys that flock to you.

When you had a bad day and snap at him, he pats your head and listens to your problems. When he saw you laughing with Endo and Takiishi, he turns a blind eye. When you tell him you suddenly felt like hanging out with Togame, there’s a prick in his heart, but even so, he understands.

He’s very mature and mentally stable. No amount of cancelling plans and harsh words and flirting with other boys can faze him. He thought that those qualities would make you love him more— but he is so sorely mistaken.

“Is something on your mind?” Umemiya bends down slightly but you look away, your lips pursed into a tight line. He rubs your hair, knowing how much you love headpats, but all he got is an annoyed huff.

He’s terrified now.

“What’s wrong?” He can no longer hide the panic in his voice.

Finally, you look at him.

“You don’t love me.”

Your accusation makes him want to die. How can you say that he doesn’t love you when he has fought all his jealousy and killed all his pride?

Umemiya leads you to a nearby bench and kneels down to your height, trying to use the cold ground as a way to cool his beating heart, “Why do you say that?”

You’re twirling a lock of hair now, something you always do when you’re annoyed. “Do you even want to be with me? It’s like you’re just hanging out with me to pass time. Do you even care?”

Your words seem so straightforward, yet Umemiya still doesn’t understand. Whatever did he do that can possibly translate to such a baseless statement?

“I didn’t know that you’re not on good terms with Endo and Takiishi. I look like a bad friend. You don’t even care who I’m hanging out with.”

But Umemiya does care. He cares so much about who you’re hanging out with that he secretly tells the guys to go on patrols whenever you come to visit him, knowing that you’ll definitely get distracted otherwise. He cares so much that he tells Takiishi Chika to stay the hell away from you, causing him to get into a full blown fight. He cares.

“I do.” He frowns, “If I tell you I’m a jealous person, what will you do?”

He merely wanted to punish you a bit for doubting his affections. Someone as kind as you would definitely get flustered when he says something so out of character.

But when he glances at you, you look at him straight in the eyes.

“I will be happy,” The light from the lamppost casts a warm glow over your face, “because finally, you’re being honest with me.”

Umemiya doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Your words are so kind, so you, but it’s like alarm bells are going off inside his head.

“I like it when Hajime-kun is jealous. In fact, I like all of Hajime-kun’s qualities.” Your hand is now tangled in his hair, caressing them softly.

It’s scary how your touch silences all his doubts and makes him putty in your hands. He breathes out a sigh of relief and leans into your touch, knowing that he found favor in your eyes again. “Okay. Okay. I am jealous. Don’t hate me because of that..”

He looks up to see you smiling and a chill runs down his spine.

If you want him to beg, he will beg. If you want him to cry, he will cry. He might try not to show it, but heaven knows he will move hell to be with you.

TOGAME JO -> MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’VE BECOME INSANE.

Being a Shishitoren second-in-command makes Togame unable to spend as much time with you as he’d like.

You live in Makochi, so naturally you’re friends with the Furin boys. Normally, he’d feel relieved that you have other people to protect you from rival gangs when he’s not around, but he only now realizes how close you actually are with Bofurin.

It was supposed to be a surprise. He didn’t tell you that he’s visiting, hoping to catch you off guard when he suddenly drops by. Instead, it was you who caught him off guard.

Togame watches mutely as Umemiya pats your head, hearing the sound of his own heart breaking. The two of you doesn’t seem to realize that he’s standing right there. Like a fool.

“Oh? Togame-kun, you’re here!”

How? How can you sound so.. unbothered? He doesn’t even know what kind of expression is on his face right now.

Umemiya is looking at him without an ounce of guilt. Wait, has he been the fool all along? Has he always been second string? Togame’s head is full of thoughts, none of them good. Oh God, what should he do?

“Togame-kun? Are you okay?”

Your voice is inquisitive, innocent. He is brought back to reality when you grip his shoulder. He looks at you, standing on your tippy toes, your eyes wide and searching.

“You... him..”

“Hm?” As if reminded, you look at Umemiya. “Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming, so I had Hajime-kun walk me home! Uh, but since you’re here...”

Umemiya smiles. Tight. Togame knows that he will probably get a beating if you’re not there. But you are. And Umemiya Hajime relents.

“Right! We can walk home tomorrow. It’s not like everyday Togame visits!” Umemiya’s voice is cheery but the icy undertones is clear.

Don’t you dare make this an everyday occurence.

When Umemiya disappears, Togame lets you pull him with you, still at a loss for words.

“Sooo, what brought you here?” You seem so happy to see him... as if he didn’t just catch you with another man. “Oh, I just realized you have your hair tied! You look good! I like you better this way, I think!”

“Are you... going out with Umemiya Hajime?” Like a fool, that is the only thing can he can say.

You blink at him in surprise, like he just asked you if elephants could fly. Was he not supposed to ask? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything... but you told him you love him.

“I...”

Your laugh interrupts his train of thought. “Of course not, silly!” It seems like his question is so funny that you’re actually doubling over and smacking his arm. “Oh, Togame-kun. Are you jealous?”

Are you seriously asking him that right now?

He’s not jealous. He’s furious.

“Maybe?”

“Aww, you’re so cute! And kinda naive, but like in a really cute way!” You’re resting your head on his arm now, hugging it as the two of you continue walking, “Me and Hajime-kun, we’re just friends! You can ask him if you want!”

Togame doesn’t know what to say. He feels stupid. Maybe he’s just not used to having female friends who’s also friends with other guys. “Why do you call him by his first name?”

You stop walking, causing him to pause too. “Oh my God!” Feeling you pull his arm, Togame turns to look at you. “Togame-kun, you’re totally jealous! That’s so cute! Is it because I don’t call you by your first name?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Why would you say you love him and call another guy by his first name? But now that Togame hears himself, he wonders if he’s just being crazy. He’s ashamed of himself now.

“Don’t sulk like that, Jo-kun. I was too shy to call you so intimately, you know!”

Togame feels like he’s being pacified... but he doesn’t hate it. He pulls you closer to him, engulfing you in a side hug, letting you nuzzle up to him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I don’t really care.”

He feels crazy. Seeing you with another man brought him to the edge of insanity. Luckily, Togame is not someone who backs down so easily. He watches you laughing and wonders when you’ll finally realize his feelings.

Maybe if he deals with Umemiya Hajime, you’ll finally be his and his alone?

ENDO YAMATO -> DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU

From the start, Endo can see that you and him are similar.

The two of you hide behind smiles, faking feelings until you lose track of what you actually feel. Trying to put a brave front and succeeding so much that everyone thinks you’re a self-obsessed, entitled brat with the ego of Mount Fuji.

Maybe he’s so full of himself that he sees so much of himself in you and he falls in love.

Despairingly.

Because you immediately call him out on his feelings, warning him that you don’t feel the same way.

Perhaps he truly is so sure of himself because he tells you that he will wait for you, however long it takes. As if waiting for you can make you love him.

“You’re hurt again!” Is the first thing you say when Endo walks to you today. Your eyebrows are immediately scrunched, eyes glowing in worry.

When he’s hurt, he feels like he’s the only one in your eyes.

You carefully examine the gash on his arm, delicately tracing the ends of the wound. Endo winces a bit. “Does that hurt? I’ll get a first aid kit.”

Endo watches in awe as your fingers move quickly, dressing his wound with the finesse of a nurse. You don’t catch him staring, too busy on your handiwork. On him.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” He says, hoping you’ll say otherwise.

“Mhm. But I did.”

“So why did you?” Endo feels like an attention-seeking child.

You close the first aid kit and look at him, sighing. “Because I care about you.”

His eyes must’ve glimmered with hope, because you quickly added, “You get hurt a lot, so I worry about you.”

“It’s because.. my head is not at the right place today.” Oh, he’s so desperate to get you to pay attention to him.

Who cares if he purposefully angers Chika? Maybe one of these days you’ll catch the guy beating him to a pulp with your own eyes and you’ll stop spending so much time with that devil. Who cares if he let Chika throw that punch? The more cuts he has, the better. That means you’ll spend more time dressing him up.

“What’s wrong?”

Endo shakes his head. “You won’t understand.”

He has long learned that you never back down from a challenge.

“Really? Try me.”

See? Endo smiles, “What do you do when you’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?”

There’s an indecipherable emotion in your eyes.

“What do you do...” Endo muses, “when you’ve tried to forget about this person, but you can’t?” He lets you hold his hand, inching closer to lean on you for comfort, “I think I love her with every fibre of my being.”

“Maybe someday she’ll return your feelings too.”

Endo closes his eyes and smiles. You spew out such beautiful lies, he fears he’ll start to believe them soon. “I hope so.”

“Yamato-kun. If someday...” your voice wavers, “if someday I were to return your feelings, would you still accept me?”

You know just how to play with his heart. Even so, he will take any chance that he gets. He grips your shoulders, staring into your eyes unblinkingly. “Yes. I told you I’ll wait.”

“Really?”

“How do you want me to prove it to you?”

You gaze at him. “Kiss me.”

Endo wants to cry. What is this game you’re playing now? Do you want to make sure he will never move on from you? To make sure he is so in love with you that he will do anything for you without hesitation? How much crueler can you be?

And how stupid is he?

He moves slowly, making sure that you’re not going to take back what you said. All you do is look at him with expectant eyes, not moving from your position, daring him to actually do it.

So Endo kisses you. And whatever doubts he has about his relationship with you disappears into thin air. All his rationale goes flying out the window. The electricity he feels when his lips move against yours can light a whole city.

You’re the first one to pull away, leaving him gazing at you helplessly.

“I’ll do it however many times you want.”

You merely smile in reply.

Well, you did warn him. But when has Endo ever let a warning stop him? You’re so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that even when the consequences of his actions leave him dying from a broken heart, Endo doesn’t think he will ever regret his choices.

TAKIISHI CHIKA -> SHE MAKES THE DEVIL WET HIS BED AT NIGHTTIME !

Takiishi isn’t used to chasing after people.

Even now, he tries not to show you how much he likes you. He knows you’re a sadist; he’s not blind to the long line of guys that you have left begging on their knees... and how you revel at their tears.

But Takiishi just can’t control himself when you get friendly with other guys. He knows that sometimes you do it purposefully. Why, he has no idea. Maybe you want to remind him that you’re able to leave him anytime, that he should stay on his knees for you.

Even without you testing him, Takiishi will always spend his lifetime begging for a fraction of your affection. He doesn’t care about what he has to do as long as he can be with you.

“Chika-kun.”

He already knows what you’re going to say next. “You know why I beat the shit out of him.” He states, getting up from his seat. “He loves it when you take care of his injuries. You know that.”

You sigh and close the door behind you. “Perhaps. Does that anger you?”

Takiishi wonders why you like to test his patience. No matter what you do, he can never bring himself to hurt you. He can’t even say anything that might offend you.

“Why do you not like me?” Takiishi questions, “Yet, you still linger around me. Why?”

He doesn’t even dare to slam the wall next to you, opting instead to cage you with his arms.

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“You..”

“I like you, Chika-kun.” There’s sincerity in your voice, but you’re not done. “It’s just that.. I also like Yamato-kun, Hajime-kun—”

“Stop.” Takiishi growls, “Do you want me to beat all of them to a pulp? You know that’s what I will do every time you say their name in my presence.”

“And give Yamato-kun another reason to spend more time with me? Make me visit Hajime-kun until his wounds are completely healed? Because you know they will let you throw that punch,” you whisper in his ear sweetly, “so I can take pity on them.”

Takiishi wants to scream, but no sound came out.

“But you will always win, Chika-kun. You’re the strongest fighter, after all. With no wound to dress, who will take pity on you?”

God, you’re mean today.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he did, or what to say. He just wants you to stop being so cruel.

You laugh. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you hug him, feeling his arms immediately snaking around your waist to pull your closer. You let him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Oh, Chika-kun. How can I ever leave you?”

“Don’t.”

If anyone were to see the Takiishi Chika, speaking so softly and acting so defeated, his reputation would’ve crumbled to the ground. Thankfully you’re not just anyone— you’re the only weakness he has, the one thing he will never let go.

No matter how bloody his hands get, he will make sure to take care of your long line of guys so that he will be the last man standing.

[gay-dorito-dust]

i love your hc’s about dante and reader being Nero’s parents!! can we get a backstory on how they became his found parents or more hc’s about dante and reader being Nero’s parents?

you and dante had found Nero at an orphanage in the town of Fortuna after a mission, the boy with the glowing demonic arm and white hair that made his blue eyes pop obviously had sparda heratige. There was no doudt about that, especially not to Dante, who was hellbent on giving him the upbringing he deserved.

You pretty much punched someone for calling Nero a ‘child of the devil’ nobody insults your baby and gets away with it.

Dante did the exact same thing when another person called him devil spawn for having such an unsightly arm, an arm only belonging to that of the devil itself. He didn’t take too kindly to religious folk spouting their bigoted rhetoric, especially towards a small child like Nero who was giving you flowers he had plucked from the ground.

Neither of you mess about when it came to Nero and you both were sure as shit to make it known to all that if they spoke ill of your son, they’d have you and Dante to answer to or walk away with a busted nose.

‘Are you my new family?’ Baby Nero asked, his big blue eyes peering up at you and Dante’s he tried to hide his glowing arm behind his back, but was stoped when you grabbed both of his tiny hands within his own and smiled.

‘Yes we are my sweet boy, and you’ll never have to fight for your spot at the table nor second guess yourself or your worth. Not anymore.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his head. ‘Your family Nero and family never give up on each other, never.’

‘Yeah kiddo, you’re stuck with us.’ Dante says as he ruffles Nero’s hair, causing the boy to pout and swat away his hand but it was clear to you and Dante that he was happy to finally having gotten out of the orphanage when he did.

You spoil baby Nero rotten by getting him whether you he wanted while cuddling and smothering your baby boy in kisses until he was laughing, trying to push you away as Dante watched from the doorway, happy to see his little family he was blessed to get back home to after each mission.

It was something that Dante didn’t think he’d ever get with how fucked his life had been thus far, but he was grateful that you had given him a chance and stay long enough to the point where you now have a son that you two would absolutely go to war for just to see smile.

He had to pinch himself most days, hoping that this wasn’t a dream he’d wake up from, alone and without a loving partner and a sweet little boy who’d he knew would one day grow up into a man who’d teach him a few things later on in life. Either way he didn’t want to wake up alone, so he joins you and little Nero by bringing you both into his arms as it was his turn to shower you both in kisses, his stubble tickling you both as you and baby Nero were left laughing and melting into his strong protective arms.

‘I’m thankful for you both’ was a phrase that came out of Dante’s mouth more often then not as he tucks you both into bed, kissing you both on your foreheads before joining you and Nero and holding you to his chest while you held Nero close to yours, a small family sharing a crappy bed but none of that mattered when you were together.

Baby Nero did get a little cheeky sometimes and had eaten some of Dante’s strawberry sundae once, he was immediately proven guilty by Dante as he wiped the melted ice cream from Nero’s cheek, gave it a sniff and knew that his son had taken a little bite out of his strawberry sundae that he had been saving for a while.

Yet he could never bring himself to be mad when Nero was most likely suffering from a brain freeze, and decided to hold his son close to his chest, kiss his forehead and hum a small tune his mother use to use for him and Vergil just before they went to sleep as the brain freeze subsided and Nero fell asleep within the warm embrace of his newfound father.

From then on Dante would split his sundae with Nero, but making sure the boy didn’t have too much for another brain freeze.

You had come across the scene one too many times where Dante and Nero’s face were smeared in the sweet sundae, looking at you with wide eyes as you laughed at the pair, ruffling their hair as you stole some sundae for yourself before reprimanded Dante for indulging Nero into becoming a sweet tooth like him.

‘Guilty as charged sweetheart.’ He’d show off those little fangs of his that he knew made you go a little nuts.

‘Then you’ll be responsible for when he gets a sugar rush then?’ You asked playfully as you picked up Nero after hearing him yawn, nuzzling his nose with your own as he practically clings onto you, babbling his baby nonsense as you rubbed his back.

‘Do I have you?’ Dante asks, pouting.

You peck his lips. ‘If you’re going to indulge our son, then you’re responsible for what happens when he has one too many strawberry sundaes.’ You tell him sweetly as you pecked his lips once more before walking up the stairs to put Nero to bed.

Dante would tell Nero of the tale of how you and him got together, the half demon and the angel as he’s called it becuase what else would he call it? You were borderline perfect -if not- the definition of perfection in his eyes. He told Nero how you’d fell in love, how you were always there for him and how he recalled fighting Hell itself in order to get you back, all the way to the softer moments where you and Dante would cuddle closely and kiss each other before missions and after missions.

‘Our relationship might not be a normal one in any sense but it’s ours and we love it regardless because we couldn’t ask for anything more then each other.’ He tells the quarter demon, who had only baby babbled at him.

‘Exactly son, exactly.’ Dante replies, acting as though he could understand Nero as the baby squealed and laughed, making the red coated half demon smile himself.

Your family maybe small but you and Dante loved your little family more then anything as you had a family album dedicated to all the moments you got with little baby Nero, mainly to embarrass him in front of his future girlfriend, but that was neither here nor there just yet.

[7ndipity]

Them With A Plus-Size Partner

Ot7 x Plus Size Reader

Summary: What the members would be like with a plus-sized partner

Warnings: mentions of body image issues and fatphobia (I tried to keep it light tho), slightly suggestive, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to my darling @bethanysnow for this request. This is something I’ve actually wanted to write for a while but for some reason hadn’t gotten around to. It’s essentially just more dating headcanons but with a focus on plus sized partners bc we need more representation in the fandom dammit!

Masterlist

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Jin:

He’s said in the past that his ideal s/o was someone on the chubbier side, but I honestly think he might struggle a bit with what all that actually entails? Not that he’s shallow or anything, but with the Korean beauty standard as harsh as it is, I think he would be confronted with a fair bit of internal stuff he needs to address.

He would absolutely adore you, though. I see him becoming friends first, just based on his personality, instantly becoming each other's comfort person, but I also think it takes him a while to fully trust and let himself be open with someone. He tends to internalize a lot in favor of keeping things light and unserious, so if he allows himself to be vulnerable with you, you’re a member of one of the most elite clubs ever.

I know a lot people think he would maybe have quite a bit of ‘culture shock’, for lack of a better term, when it comes to things like the treatment of plus sized people, but as we’ve seen on his more recent solo content, he’s a lot more observant than we realize. Not to say there won’t be moments where he’s caught off guard or misses something passive aggressive, but I think he’s a lot better at navigating those situations than we’d expect.

Like, we’ve seen how he handles a lot social conventions and pressures, he very polite but genually dosen’t give a fuck. He’s really good at casually reassuring and defending you(like when he shut down the guy on run!Seokjin who was teasing his co-host). He knows what it's like to be judged only by how you look, and so I could see him being pretty defensive/protective over you at times because of that.

Would be the type to discreetly have clothes at his place that would fit you and waits to bring them out when the opportunity presents, like “oh you’re cold? Here, have this sweater!”

If topics like diets and weight loss make you uncomfortable, he would be very diligent about changing the topic, regardless of who was around. Your comfort is always his top priority no matter what.

He would love date nights in together where you can cook together. Even if you’re not into cooking necessarily, he’ll happily turn it into your own personal cooking show,(he would totally have one of those ‘kiss the chef’ aprons)

He’s surprisingly touchy-feely with you. Like it’s not even in a sexual sense, he just takes a great deal of comfort in feeling you in his hands. Love love loves laying on you, you’re his new favorite pillow, and he loves having you lay on him as well. He won’t hear of you trying to argue and say you’re too heavy, he thinks you’re perfect and he wants you on him at every possible opportunity.

Yoongi:

It’s well known that Yoongi’s very introspective and understanding. He’s the type of person where body size either doesn’t even cross his mind or he’s very conscious of it.

Not in a bad way, though. It’s moreso in the sense of yeah, he’s aware you’re bigger, but it’s usually just a simple detail about you like your hair or eye color. But if you’re having a bad body image day or someone’s trying to give you shit, he’s all over it before you can even blink, hyping you up and shutting down any negative comments.

On a more intimate one-on-one level, this mf doesn't give a single fuck about how you look. You could be dressed to the nines or vegged out in sweats on the couch and he would still be swooning over you

He loves how soft and squishy you are? Like we’re talking peak cat behavior with him laying on you, doing the squishy paw move as he buries his face in your chest. You’re basically his favorite napping spot and stim toy  

Always encourages you to eat well and not waste a thought on diets. You’ll come home after a shitty day and your favorite food/dessert will just be waiting in the fridge for you. He’ll play it off though if you ask him. 

“What’s this?”

“It was on sale at the store,” He replies, barely looking up from his phone. “Why? Do you not like that one anymore?” 

“No, I do-” 

“Good.” 

And that’s it, no questions, no admitting he went to three different stores to find it, just his secret little grin when he sees how happy it made you.

If you’re feeling bad about yourself, he always addresses it very quickly and simply, not wanting to dignify them much by giving them more of your time than absolutely necessary. Just "That's bullshit. I think the real issue we need to worry about is your eyesight, because if you think you’re anything other gorgeous, we need to get you some fucking glasses.” And that would be it, he’d give you a kiss on the head and walk away.

If it was really serious tho, he would listen and try to help and comfort you. He knows he's not gonna change how you feel with some grand gesture, it takes slow, consistent work, and he's committed to being there with you every step of the way reminding you how much he loves you.

He would 100% make sure that there are clothes you can wear in his closet but will never say anything about it. 

I imagine him being very clingy in the mornings, arm looped around your waist keeping you close. If you try to get up, he’ll yank you back into the bed, half-laying on top of you now like a stubborn cat, face buried in your chest as he grumbles about it being too early and you ‘can’t leave him here like this’(this being alone in bed).

Hobi:

As soon as he laid eyes on you, he was smitten. Everything about you just drew him in. Your eyes, your smile, your curves. God he bet you look beautiful when you danced…

Cut to Jimin smacking his arm to snap him back to reality and him immediately coming over to introduce himself.

There would be no friends first phase this time with Hobi, or if there is, it’s extremely brief because he genuinely can’t keep a secret worth shit, especially not when it involves how head over heels he is for you. Like, even he doesn’t fully understand it, you’re like his muse or something(Mona Lisa starts playing lol)

All that aside tho, I think he would have the most like random(?) hurdles to get over in regard to dating someone bigger? Not that he’s oblivious or anything, but I think growing up with the Korean beauty standard being drilled into their heads so much, he’s gonna have some slightly skewed perceptions and ideas about bigger bodies that he’d have to unlearn in order for the relationship to grow properly.

Like, there are just so many little things that affect bigger bodies that some people don’t seem to realize, like even something as simple as whether or not the chairs at a restaurant have arms, or if a shop has really narrow pathways can affect whether we can navigate those places or feel comfortable? Once he becomes aware of those things tho, he’s watching for them everywhere.

Is appalled at how restricted and isolated plus size fashion is. Like excuse the fuck outta you, his baby will be wearing whatever designer brand they want, even if he has to threaten a few of his brand deals to get his way(lowkey mafia au Hoseok right here, just saying)

I think the main place he might struggle would be if you had trouble with keeping up with his lifestyle. Like he’s constantly on the move, going to events, working on new projects, touring. It’s hard for even the fittest person to keep up with, let alone if you have mobility issues or get tired more easily. It might take some work to figure out the balance between the two of you, but it honestly helps him remember to breathe? Like it’s okay to not go at breakneck speed through everything,

Is your biggest hype man ever tho, always gushing over how gorgeous you look and how lucky he feels to have you in his life.

Gives you soo many happy squishy hugs. He’s such cuddly softie and you’re literally the perfect hug shape in his opinion, so you’re getting cuddled, snuggled, and squeezed at every opportunity

Namjoon:

Man has written too many lines about bigger/thicker partners in his songs for him not to be into plus sized partners, alright? Like the proof is literally there in black and white.

He’s definitely the type to be friends first, not for lack of interest in you, but because of his own hesitancies and trust issues. He’s had his trust betrayed enough in the past that he tends to keep people at arms length at first till he knows that he’s safe with them.

Once you’re together though, the man is obsessed with you. Like his hands are constantly resting or holding onto your hips and thighs or caressing the sides of your waist. Like for someone who’s claimed to not be very into skinship, he’s very into it with you.

It’s no secret that this dude is BUILT, okay? Like those arms are made for lifting and manhandling you about. And he loves that with a bigger partner he doesn’t have to be worried about breaking you. Goodness knows one good spank from him would probably send a person flying across the room if they don't have some sort of padding.

On a more innocent level though, he’s also very soft with you. You regularly end up staying up half the night talking about thoughts and feelings that you don’t usually feel safe or comfortable sharing with anyone else. He values intellectual intimacy even more than physical intimacy. 

I really see him dating someone in the arts, but maybe not necessarily in the music industry. He would enjoy a slight level of separation between your two worlds. Like if you’re an artist, one of the things he loves about going to events to support you is how in your spaces he’s “Y/n’s boyfriend”. Not RM, not BTS, just Namjoon. Your Namjoon.

I also think despite how observant and in tune he thinks he is, he would still catch himself falling for and having to unlearn certain fat stereotypes. Just like “My being fat does not inherently mean that I can cook.” “Right, sorry…”

Honestly I think he’s the most casual with his partner? Like he will accidentally call your bro or dude(or not accidentally, if you’re cool with it). There will be moments where he needs to talk about something and he'll just be like “Can I have a bro moment?” “Sure, *makes show of dabbing him up* whatcha need?”

He’s also soo fucking protective of you though, like he will not tolerate anyone even looking at you the wrong way. If you’re having a tough day or not feeling your best, he will do everything in his power to make you feel better, or at least make sure you know that he’s there for you.

Jimin:

Tbh, I think out of everyone, Chim would struggle the most with dating a bigger person. And most of it is because of his own internal complexes. 

Like he grew up doing a lot of martial arts and dance where there is such a focus on what your body can do and how it looks. That combined with how he’s been critiqued in the past for looking ‘chubby’(which is such bullshit, but anyone who has rounder features is labeled that way regardless of their actual weight bc people are dumb) it’s made him think far more critically and not constructively about body.

Despite his own issues, he has a very soft image about what he sees as beauty. One of my favorite clips is him telling Joon about how he saw this elderly couple and how their soft, caring manner for each other really resonated with something in his heart, and I think he really wants that for him and his partner as well. He wants a love that is gentle like that, where you are each other’s safe landing point.

Which is why I think that he would date a teddy bear. Like I’m picturing soft, kinda nerdy science teacher/librarian vibes(totally not leaning into his kindergarten teacher vibes lol). He’s drawn to your cozy aura, and loves how comfortable and safe you make him feel. Lowkey think it plays a little bit into a noona thing? But that’s a topic for another day lol.

Y’all definitely have the whiny boyfriend - calming partner vibe(I just picture that meme of Grizzy from we bear bears crushing NomNoms to his chest lol)

He’s lowkey soo protective of you tho? Like he knows that you can technically take care of yourself, but if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, or if someone is treating you poorly, he’s stepping in and quietly, but effectively, shutting it down.

He borders on overprotecting you sometimes, though. Like how he doesn’t like anyone talking about dieting of things like that around you, because he’s aware of how toxic these cultures can be and how easily they can get under your skin, so he doesn’t want to even give them the chance. Doesn’t matter how many times you tell him you’re okay, he still worries and watches out for you everywhere you go.

He loves how casually intimate the two of you are. He’s always touching and caressing your hips or waist or arms, and is soo happy if you’re the same with him. Similar to Jin, there’s nothing even sexual about his touches(most of the time) he just loves feeling you close, each little touch is like a silent message between the two of you like “I see you, I love you”

Taehyung:

I totally see Tae dating a muscle mommy, bc he is baby. Like if you can carry him? Ooooh he’s gonna koala you soo fucking hard, lol. Loves being wrapped up in your arms more than almost anything else in the world.

He doesn’t really pay too much mind to your size honestly? At least on a surface level. He falls in love with your energy and personality first and then your body. Which yeah sounds cliche and a little frustrating honestly, but that’s just how he works. It might take him a while to realize that comparing you to statues and paintings from the renaissance doesn’t quite answer your question of if he finds you hot, but he catches on eventually.

He’s kinda obsessed with you tho honestly, he’s always touching and cuddling you, nuzzling into your chest or tummy, and leaving little kisses on any bare skin he happens across.

Gives extra love to the places he notices you’re more self-conscious about, tracing over your stretch marks or caressing your rolls with an almost reverent tenderness. 

Being with him is just so domestic tho? Like he is just this big ol' teddy bear(especially now that he’s bulked up from the military). He brings you flowers all the time, takes you out for brunch dates every weekend, buys y’all matching pajamas, etc

Loves how you take care of him, whether it’s making him dinner or just holding him when he’s feeling down. He feels soo safe and protected in your arms.

He really loves it though when you’re open and vulnerable with him. Being plus size, you tend to develop a thick skin to protect yourself because people, and society at large, can be ridiculously cruel. And so it’s a little harder to let people in sometimes. But with Tae, he wants nothing more than to be your soft safe place where you don’t have to pretend. It doesn’t matter what’s bothering you, he’s always ready and waiting with a hug no matter what, and it makes his heart swell with so much pride and love when you let be there for you. 

So soft and encouraging. He’s always doing cute little gestures to cheer you up, like the ‘when life gives tangerines’ pose thing. Anything he can do to get a smile out of you is worth it.

Jungkook:

I honestly think he would be in denial that he likes you at first? Not because of your size, he’s like this with everyone he likes. Like he flirts with you constantly, teases you, even engages a lot of casual skinship, but he always holds off on calling it anything more than friendship. He’s just afraid of commiting and then fucking things up, so he thinks it’s better to stay as just friends, until you finally corner him and get him to fess up.

I feel like he thinks he’s above having any sort of toxic perceptions of bigger bodies, until you call him out one day for some offhand joke or comment that he made. He may not have meant anything by it, just trying to tease you like he does his other friends, but once you explain how those comments come across and how they’ve been weaponized, he’s horrified and begging forgiveness. 

But once you get through those early rough patches, you have the biggest dork and hype man on your hands.

Quietly squeals and does lil happy hands every now and then because he randomly remembers like “omg, I'm dating this person!!”

Quietly supports everything you do. Like, he’ll hide outside the door when he hears you singing, having his own mini hype party for you, bc he knows if he comes in, you’ll get shy and stop.

He dotes on you all the time and is soo fucking touchy. He loves just laying on you, squishing your face in his hands and kissing you whenever you start to complain. He can’t help it, you’re just so soft and warm, he’s practically addicted to touching you.

He would work really hard to better educate himself about that actual science and facts about plus size bodies, and to try and be more in tune with your needs and any subjects that are particularly sensitive for you. 

But also, everybody know that boy is soo fucking strong. Like he we’ve seen how much time he spends training and building up his body, he would love being able to show off to you by picking you up and manhandling you just a little bit(or a lotta bit, hehe)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

[sebastiansluts]

Surprise?

idk what this means for the blog, but it's the first thing i've written in months and i wanted to share it with you all. i miss you all so much, and if anyone's still here, i appreciate you more than you know. for now, requests will stay closed and we'll see what else i come up with writing-wise!

~Rose

Bucky Barnes x Reader; oral sex m receiving, vaginal sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, authority kink,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"What are you doing here?" Bucky growled, pushing you back against the wall. You pressed into his hold, but it didn't give an inch, metal and flesh both tight with tension, hands locked firmly on your upper arms. You shoved at him again. "If you don't stop that you're going to bruise," Bucky said, and you glared at him.

"Then let go of me," you shot at him, and Bucky's fingers tightened minutely before letting go entirely. He shoved up and away from you, backing up and taking a deep breath, his jaw tight.

"Doll, I don't have time for this right now," Bucky said, strain evident in his voice, and your heart clenched.

"Well fuck you, I was having a great time at the party, I don't need this either," you quipped, hands against the wall to press away from it, sliding behind your back instead at one hard look from Bucky.

"You're not s'pposed to be here, and you know it baby. I told ya t'let me handle this one, I don't want you on Valentina's radar."

"Bucky, you're crazy if you think everyone's not on her radar."

"Still, don't need to be giving her reasons to go lookin' at ya," Bucky grumbled, and you sighed. This time you did push off the wall, but only to reach forwards and wrap your hands around Bucky's arm, sliding up to his shoulder, pushing gently until he turned around, looking down at you.

"You're so damn protective, you know that?" You smiled softly, leaning up on your toes to kiss the underside of his jaw, feeling it hard beneath your lips.

"Someone's got to be," Bucky muttered, and let you trail a series of kisses up his jaw and down his neck, until you were meeting the collar of his shirt.

"Mm, oughta be careful with these kisses, wouldn't want anyone to suspect anything, would we, Congressman?" you teased, licking at his Adam's apple, teeth scraping against the scruff of a beard he'd sported tonight.

Bucky groaned, one hand finding your hip, the other burying deep in your hair at the back of your head, both guiding you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, feeling the long line of Bucky's dick against your stomach.

You moaned loudly, quickly cut off by Bucky's lips, shushing you in between kisses. "Baby, shh, it's a blindspot, they can still hear us if you're too loud." You reached down, palming his dick quickly but gently, a loud noise tearing out of Bucky in surprise.

"You were saying, Congressman?" You grinned, as Bucky glanced around, pressing you deeper into the corner. You could see the tops of a few people's heads under the railing next to you, but only just. If they looked this way a little too long or hard, they might see something...and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you at the thought. Bucky pressed into you further, slipping his thigh between yours, giving you something to rest against as he took your head in his hands and pulled you into his kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, meeting him kiss for kiss, your body rolling on thigh, against his torso, pushing your chests together.

"Please, fuck me, Daddy," you whispered into Bucky's ear, feeling him shudder and nod, one hand already leaving its place supporting your neck to travel between you. He tore at his belt, quickly getting it undone and his pants unzipped, his cock falling heavy out of his briefs.

You salivated at the sight, and you whined lightly, desperate to get your mouth on him. Bucky seemed to be in the same mind, because he ground out, "On your knees, babydoll, get it good and wet."

Your eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his dick to your tongue, heavy and salty, and you breathed in excitedly, taking more of him into your mouth. You suckled gently at first, then harder, making yourself nearly choke on his cock, until Bucky pulled you back by your hair.

"Easy doll, don't make this end before your favorite part," Bucky chided, looking down at you fondly. You were of half a mind to disagree, you loved almost nothing more than his cum down your throat, but Bucky grinned, sensing your mood. "Does that mean you're ready?"

You popped off his dick cleanly, a thick ring of your dark red lipstick staining the base of his cock and part of his balls. You smirked to yourself, before you were lifted up and off your knees, spun around, and shoved against the wall. You were bent forwards with your ass out, your face pressed against the cool marble, your hands held at the small of your back in Bucky's metal one. His other hand flipped up the skirt of your dress, smacking your ass when he found it bare of panties.

"Naughty girl," Bucky said approvingly, hand massaging your ass. "Gods you must be drippin' baby," he grunted, hand sliding between your legs to press into you, coming back covered in your slick. You could feel him slicking up his cock with your juices and you bit your lip hard to hold back a moan.

Bucky began teasing you with the head of his dick. He circled it around and around your clit, leaving you with shaking legs and a heaving chest when he pulled away.

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Congressman," you hissed, and Bucky grabbed your arms, pulling you up and spinning you around, slamming you back into the wall again. He bent down and picked you up, your legs spread over his arms, one of your hands flying to your mouth to stifle your gasp, the other going to his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Never gonna leave you anywhere, babydoll," Bucky murmured before sliding his cock into your open and waiting pussy, burying himself to the hilt immediately.

Your back arched, your breasts pushing into Bucky's face, smothering him as you adjusted to being full. You slumped back down to the wall but Bucky followed you, keeping his mouth on your tits, sucking a mark between them.

You grasped his hair, holding on firmly while Bucky began to pump his hips, dragging his dick back and forth against your walls, clenching desperately to keep him inside you every time he pulled out.

Bucky's lips met your own in a messy kiss, spit and tongues mixing together until you were sure your lipstick was everywhere, but you didn't care, you just wanted more, more Bucky, more everything.

Bucky adjusted his hold on you, pulling your ass away from the wall so just your upper back was against it, your hands scrambling to hold onto Bucky's neck, but he had you, fully, in his arms. He fucked you hard then, bouncing you on his dick, until you were nearly crying with the need to come.

"Daddy please," you gasped, curled forwards and wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, begging into his ear. "I needa come, gotta come, please!"

Bucky just adjusted his hold once again, wrapping your legs around his waist and cradling you against him as he pushed you up against a pillar.

"Now, baby, come now," Bucky ordered, hips moving powerfully again, deep and fast, right where you wanted him. You couldn't hold back your orgasm if you tried, it was intense and hit you right away. Your cunt clenched, tightening around Bucky's cock, forcing him to fuck you harder to stay inside you, and you bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out.

Bucky sighed heavily, his own orgasm triggered by your bite, and he flooded your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into you until you were shaking from overstimulation.

Gently, very gently, Bucky helped you uncurl your legs, placing them back on the ground. He rubbed circles on your thighs, getting blood flowing again as you fixed the skirt of your dress, making sure it hung properly. Bucky helped adjust the top, before you cleaned up his suit jacket and buttoned his pants, letting him do the belt.

Bucky gathered you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, letting you regulate your breathing and just be for a moment. With a kiss on the top of your head, Bucky gently pulled away, swiping at a line of your lipstick on your chin.

"Come on doll, time to mingle."

[lampridius]

hihii!! may i request anaxa and sunday with a reader who likes putting up fronts? like they would constantly play these roles with vast personalities, put on masks, copy/mirror other’s mannerisms, till the point they don’t even know who they are anymore or their “true self” is? sorry if this doesn’t make sense >_<

🎭 anon

𝙃𝙎𝙍 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙋𝙐𝙏𝙎 𝙊𝙉 𝘼 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙆 ᯓ★ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: anaxa, sunday ᯓ★ rules | masterlist | 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 ᯓ★ 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ᯓ★ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

#𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗫𝗔

he picks up on it pretty fast - not because he’s offended, but because he knows the game.

you're a different person around everyone. loud and dramatic with one group, quiet and perceptive with another. even around him, you shift. sometimes you're flirty, sometimes aloof, sometimes overly agreeable in ways that feel just a bit too practiced. it’s like you’ve memorized entire personas and swap them in depending on who you’re speaking to.

most people wouldn’t notice. anaxa does.

he doesn’t call you out right away. he watches. listens. and when you’re quiet - when you finally let the performance drop for even a second - he slips beside you with this low, thoughtful hum.

“do you ever wonder who you'd be if you weren’t trying to be so many things at once?”

you tense up. a mask almost clicks into place, but he lifts a hand - easy, no pressure - and adds, “don’t give me a rehearsed answer. i'd prefer if you give me nothing at all, if that’s easier.”

he isn’t pushing. he’s just there. he doesn’t need a grand confession, or for you to tear yourself apart trying to be honest when even you aren’t sure what that means anymore. he just wants to see the version of you that’s not trying so hard.

sometimes, when you’re tired, when your face hurts from smiling and your voice doesn’t sound like your own anymore, you sit with him in silence.

he likes that version. the one that slouches a little, whose hands fidget with fabric threads, who sighs without having to explain why.

and he’ll keep showing up for that person, over and over. even if they don’t know who they are yet.

#𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗬

he’s soft in ways most people don’t expect - cerebral, almost dreamy, but sharp enough to see through the cracks.

when he watches you shift and adjust in every room you walk into - your voice morphing, your body language echoing whoever you’re with - he doesn’t see dishonesty.

he sees someone exhausted.

you joke about it sometimes. how good you are at fitting in. how people always seem to like you. but there’s a hollowness behind it. sunday hears that too.

and one day, when the two of you are walking quietly through a garden or a hallway or some quiet, glass-and-gold room filled with nothing but sun and dust motes, he finally says:

“you don’t have to prove you belong to anyone. not with me.”

you blink. the words hit something raw.

he tilts his head gently toward you. “and you don’t have to disappear into everyone you meet, either. you’re allowed to just be. even if you don’t know what that is right now.”

his tone isn’t pitying. it’s inviting. not trying to strip your masks away, but offering a space where you might set one down - just for a minute.

when you ask, quietly, “what if there’s nothing underneath?”, he only smiles. small and certain.

“then we’ll build it together.”

he doesn’t flinch when you’re inconsistent. doesn’t correct you when your personality slides from one edge to the next. he just keeps showing up, offering softness without condition.

and maybe - just maybe - being seen like that is the first real thing you’ve felt in a while.

©𝗖𝗢𝗣𝗬𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ● @lampridius 2025

[brittle-doughie]

So- hear me out..

In the beginning Pavlova Cookie lists out each one’s love story and what if he sees that y/n is deep in the pits of their crush for Hollyberry. Would the cookies of the garden try to get them closer together like having them drink together or have their warms baths next to each other to see if the love will blossom or crumble worse than a cookie chained to the bottom of the sea? (Could you add a good and bad ending to the little story too.. if it’s not too difficult of course)

~Cheers, Holly/Mystic Simp <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

“Ah, what a relief. Cookies with the deeper wounds being tended to first, good good….”

“Yeah, we got beat up pretty bad, but I think we’ll be okay…”

“Y/N Cookie!”

Hollyberry Cookie heads over to inspect over your person, sighing in relief when she sees that your wounds aren’t too severe. The contact of her hands touching you causes your heart to jump to your chest!

“H-Hollyberry Cookie?!”

“It’s good to see that you’re still in one piece! I knew those monsters wouldn’t be able to bring you down! Ha!”

“R-right! I’d never want to let you down by crumbling in a fight! You’ve taught me well to let those skills go to waste l!”

“Oh, Y/N Cookie. You could never let me down! It’s always a joy to fight alongside friends!”

“Yep! Got it! I’ll go inspect the others and see if they’re doing good.”

“Okay, but remember! We still need to get going when all of the Cookies have healed!”

“Of course!”

You headed away, but towards a pillar instead of your fellow Cookies. You hide behind it as you now do your best to calm your beating heart.

“Oooh! Do I sense a longing desire for love in YOUR heart?”

“Excuse me?”

Pavlova Cookie had appeared next to you suddenly behind the pillar!

“You have a crying heart, one that aches to be with its other half. Unknowing if that other half will even return your feelings! Ooh, the suspense!”

“You’re not able to read hearts! That was just you playing around!”

“Oh, but I can! You’re so badly in love that anyone can see it, except for your crush though!”

“I’m just…waiting for the right moment, you know?”

“Well, you’re not going to make any progress being all flustered here! How about I try to arrange you two together! See how it goes!”

“No way, I-wait, you’d do that for me?”

“All love needs to find their way, it just needs a little push!”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

Pavlova tried all sorts of subtle tricks to try and nudge you and Hollyberry Cookie together, whether that be drinking juice as a pair or even having baths.

He waited behind any sort of cover to see if you or even Hollyberry would make the move. The two of you seemed to like each other’s company, you two shared smiles and laughs between you two. Pavlova was giddy as he held in a noise of excitement, he was about to see love blossom before his very eyes!

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

It all came down to sitting under the tree, having just gone over one of the many adventures that you and her shared that left Hollyberry Cookie smiling from the thought of it.

“I still can’t believe you did such a crazy thing!”

“Hey! It was either the dragon or me, and it sure wasn’t going to be me no matter how ridiculous it was!”

“You were lucky I had your back there! You could’ve been dragon food!”

“Just part of the job description, my queen.”

“No….that’s not what I want you to do, don’t get yourself crumbled over me.”

“You just mean a lot to me, Hollyberry Cookie. I only wish to make sure you don’t have to get yourself hurt over me.”

“That’s why you should let me protect you! I can handle myself fine! It’s you who isn’t as durable!”

“Please, I’m just another soldier amongst the others!”

“….Not to me.”

That strikes a cord in your heart.

“Hollyberry Cookie….”

“Yes?”

“Do you….?”

“I do care a lot about you and would not like it for you to hurt yourself for me.”

“I know that. But..is that care to the extent of my own?”

“To what extent?”

“Hollyberry Cookie…”

You subtly look around you and you spot Pavlova Cookie hiding far back, excited to see a moment of possible romance blooming! You take a breath and look at Hollyberry Cookie, determined.

“I love you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me]

“W-what did you say?!”

“I love you, Hollyberry Cookie! I had for the longest time and I couldn’t hold it in for any longer!”

Hollyberry was taken aback! She wasn’t expecting such a bold confession to her, it lifted her speechless!

“I…don’t know what to say…!”

“If that’s a no, I understand-“

“NO! I’m not saying no! Give me a moment!”

You step back and allow Hollyberry to collect herself.

“If you had warned me before pulling that, I would’ve answered with my own yes sooner!”

“You mean?!”

“That’s right! Come here, my dear Cookie!”

You two meet in a hug as you shared teary laughter with Hollyberry as she spins you around together with her under the tree.

Pavlova Cookie was trying his best to muffle his squealing at the sight of blossomed love.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[She Loves Me Not]

“Oh….”

“Huh?”

“I…love you too. As much as I love all my Cookies! I do not love anyone any more or less than the other!”

“Right! Right….I understand.”

You did understand, but boy, did your heart just shrivel up and die then and there…

Pavlova Cookie froze up, he did not expect that conclusion!

“Y/N Cookie….”

“I’m sorry, I just…need time to process this! I’m sorry!”

“Y/N Cookie! Wait! Come back!”

You ran off as Hollyberry tried to reach out for you, but you were too fast in running away!

Your emotions were in control now as you kept running and into the hedge maze, just trying to find some quiet spot to let out your sorrows.

You picked a little spot with a pillar that you leaned back on, hands in your face as you control your tears.

“Stupid, so stupid! Why did I even say that?! Now what’s she going to think?! Can I even face her again?!”

All this overthinking only made you more upset as you kept yourself together….

“I sensed your broken heart, my love…”

“W-who…?”

“Why, it’s me. The Bringer of Happiness!”

You looked up from your hands to see Eternal Sugar Cookie, her face holding much sympathy as she floated down and kneeling next to you.

“If you need someone right now, I am here for you…”

“No, please…”

“Don’t push me away…it’s okay to let out your feelings to me…I am not going anywhere…”

She even took the first step by scooting close and spreading her wings out to shield you from the world. You gave in and held her close as you wept, Eternal Sugar reciprocating as she brushed your icing hair.

“I’m always here for you….”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

[5tarchaser]

.:･˚₊ mission: evacuate

pairing: assassin!jay x fem agent!reader ft. jungwon and jake of enhypen genre: rivals to ??, inspired by mcu fics

synopsis: you and jay are asked to work together on a mission, even though it is well known around the compound that you guys don't work well together.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of wounds, poor attempts at humour, a little angst, fluff, although inspired by mcu no plot spoilers

a/n: im backkk!!! havent written in forever cause uni took all my writing motivation away :/ still have a bunch of fics drafted from forever ago but wanted to post this first. inspired by mcu fanfics cause they created thunderbolts for me (i love bucky barnes give him more screentime). thank the mcu for reviving my bucky era (which never left) and fanfic writing gears :p honestly not entirely sure about the ending of this fic but what can i do T-T hopefully writing block doesnt hit me like a truck again, enjoy!!!

“You guys get that?”

You look up from the mission files in your hand, making eye contact with Jungwon, the team’s leader. 

“One quick question,” you say while raising your hand. “Do I really have to be paired up with this prick?” 

There wasn’t anything wrong with Jay per se—at least skill-wise—but something about his personality was always off. You can agree that he is good at what he does and has is impressive on the battlefield, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s always given you a cold shoulder since entering the team. You don’t know if it’s because you’re a simple agent while he’s a trained assassin, but there’s no need for him to be so condescending.

“I could ask the same thing,” the said prick mentions.

Jungwon shakes his head. “Jay, you are one of our best assassins,” he says sternly. Assassin, more like asshole. Jungwon turns to you, “And Y/N, you’re one of the best agents in this compound, and believe it or not, the assets both of you bring to the table work well together.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Jay states as you roll your eyes.

“Look, as much as I know how much you guys despise each other for some unknown reason, this mission is a quick grab and go, and I trust you both enough not to have this mission turn sideways no matter what differences you guys have.” Jungwon states. “Plus you guys won’t be fully alone, Jake will be on comms during the whole mission.”

“Oh great, put us with the rookie who happens to be Jay’s best friend,” you mutter.

“So with that, I hope to see you guys at the jet by 5AM tomorrow morning. Meeting dismissed.”

Without so much as a word, the two of you guys head out into your respective rooms, preparing for a short but dreadful mission.

As you suit up waiting for the jet to land, Jay comes up to you, dropping the map of the base onto your lap. “Here’s the map of the base, all you have to do is get to the panel room and extract the CCTV footage. Don’t fuck it up.”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows, feigning annoyance. “You’re giving this to me as if Jungwon didn’t already explain the mission. I know what I have to do, I’ve done it before.”

As the jet comes to a stop, you turn to Jay, “You better not fuck up either. The moment someone spots you, we’re both dead.”

"You saying you have no trust in me sweetheart?" He states with his hand to his chest, acting hurt.

"Yup."

You both enter the facility without any difficulties, which garnered suspicion. “Everything seems a bit too easy,” you mutter to Jay. “The only time I’d actually agree with you,” he responds. “Just get to the panel room as quickly as you can, then we’ll be out of here.”

“Roger that.”

Finding the panel room was just as easy as breaking and entering into the facility. It’s as if people expected us to come here. “Hey, Jake,” you speak into the comms, “Can you scan the surroundings? Check if there are any traps around or inside the base.”

“Copy.”

Looking at the screens in the panel room, it wasn’t hard to locate where to collect all the drives. But it just didn’t make sense as to why it’s been so easy. No traps, no guards, it was just given to you.

“Seems like there’s no suspicious activity in or outside the base,” Jake speaks into your ear. “Y/N, just get the CCTV footage, and do it quickly. The longer we’re here, the more time people can come and get us.” Jay says.

“Ok, ok, calm your tits, Jay, I have the USB in.”

Watching as the files move to the USB, you take a better look at your surroundings. The room was just like any old panel room in these abandoned bases. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but normally by this time, guards would come and start shooting, or traps would be set off. Yet nothing has happened. Maybe I’m overthinking it. This is an abandoned base anyways.

When watching the screen, a small red glow catches your eye in the corner of the far left camera. You had told Jake not to switch off all the cameras, just in case that set off an alarm. But the red glow was quite distracting. As if there was a camera recording you at that moment. But that shouldn’t be. Jake said there was nothing suspicious about this room. Must be some random glitch on the screen. 

You can’t help but stay focused on the red glow that was beeping. Almost like it was using Morse code. It was sort of hypnotizing. It drew you in, blocking all your senses. You walked closer towards the panel, unbeknownst to the smell of something burning and the sound of Jay yelling into your ear. 

“Y/N,” Jay spoke urgently, “we need to evacuate. Y/N evacuate now, the mission’s been compromised.”

Smoke fills your vision and nostrils, not being able to recognize your surroundings. As you close your eyes, the last thing you remember is the feeling of being lifted off the ground.

Opening your eyes, you recognize the bright white walls of the compound’s infirmary. You groan as you sit upright on the bed, not remembering a single thing from the mission. One second you’re extracting CCTV files, and the next second you’re in bed with a pounding headache and what seems to be a bunch of patched-up bruises and cuts. Well, now I feel like shit.

“Knock, knock.”

You see an unscathed Jay by the door, with a steaming mug in his hand. “Can I come in?”

You grunted as a response.

“I bought you hot chocolate, Jungwon says it’s your favourite,” he says, looking at you expectantly.

You reach your hand out to receive the hot chocolate. “What are you doing here?” you say after blowing on the hot chocolate. He shrugged, “Just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“That’s surprising to hear. I would’ve thought you were sent here by Jungwon.”

“I mean, he did tell me about the hot chocolate.”

An awkward silence filled the room, with the sound of you occasionally sipping your hot chocolate.

“What actually brings you here, Jay?” you asked. “I’m sure you aren’t here to just silently watch me drink hot chocolate. You here to tell me that I finally failed a mission like I inevitably would?” you say with discontent.

He gives you a displeased look. “I—” “Or are you here to laugh in my face and tell me how I suck at my job and need to go back to being an agent in training? Because whatever it is, I just need you to tell me straight up.”

“I wasn’t gonna say any of that,” he trailed off. “Is that what you really think I’m here to say? Do you think of me that lowly?”

“I mean, you tell me, you clearly don’t think I’m a good enough agent. Always avoiding doing missions with me and always nitpicking on every little thing I do.” You start to list, your hot chocolate being long forgotten.

“Y/N, when have I ever told you you weren’t a good enough agent?” Jay questions.

You think back to the prior interactions you’ve had with Jay, realizing he never straight up told you that. You shrugged, “Look, just because you haven’t said it, your actions have definitely said otherwise.”

“Cut the bullshit Y/N, you know I’m not one to drop inconspicuous hints if I hated somebody. If I hate someone, they’ll 100% know from my words.”

You turn to him expectantly. “Then why do you hate me so much, Jay?” 

He shifts to the side, avoiding direct eye contact with you. “Like I said, I don’t hate you.” Time seems to slow down as you watch him hesitantly speak up. “Funny enough, it’s actually the opposite.”

“What’s the opposite?”

“You think I hate you because you’re a bad agent, but it’s actually the opposite.” He states. “You’re too good of an agent, actually, it’s as if you've been training your whole life.” He shakes his head. “I guess I was sort of, I don’t know—”

“Jealous?”

“More like intimidated.” He finally turns his body toward you, picking up the courage to look at you. “I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing when an agent who’s only been trained for what? 10 years?” You nod. “And then me, someone who was literally programmed to kill, seeing you. God, I felt like I was useless.”

“You’re not entirely useless. You help me train when I imagine your face on the punching bag.” You joke.

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Good to know you think of me.” 

A silence fills the room. The silence that was once filled with tension was now somewhat comfortable.

Jay begins to speak up. “I know my reasoning isn’t entirely valid. But I do want to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, which may have been a bad idea considering the headache that is still there. “You’re honestly good, Jay. It’s all in the past.”

“Hopefully we can start over.” He suggests. “Maybe we can make that punching bag scenario real. You can hit me as much as you want.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.” You reply.

He begins to stand up. “I’ll let you rest up now. You inhaled a lot of the chemicals the other day.”

“Thanks, Jay.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

As you watch him leave the room, you reach out for the hot chocolate that is now cooled down. Funny, I don’t think I’ve ever told Jungwon hot chocolate is my favourite.

my masterlists

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[littlegochu]

2am text 3/3 │ jjk 18+

"You still up?"

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: exes to lovers, cold male lead, cold female lead

rating: 18+, smut

synopsis: we broke up eight months ago. mutual, no dramatic fights—just distance and timing. but we made one rule before ending things: no texting each other after 2AM.

tonight, he breaks it.

he doesn’t rush me.

even when our bodies press together and his hands roam with purpose, there’s patience in him. like he knows this version of us is fragile. like he wants to take his time memorizing what we almost lost.

my back hits the couch cushions, and he follows—hovering just above me, arms braced on either side of my head. his hair falls forward slightly, brushing against my forehead. he looks at me like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, and it’s not cocky or calculated—it sounds like it hurts to say.

i slide my hands under his hoodie, fingertips tracing the hard lines of his torso, the warm skin stretched over years of growth. he’s solid now. more than he was before.

his breath stutters when i lift the hoodie over his head and toss it aside. he lets me.

then he kisses me again.

it’s slower this time. deeper. his mouth moves over mine like he’s not just kissing me—he’s apologizing, and remembering, and asking me to stay.

our bare chests press together, heat blooming in every inch of skin that touches. his hands slide down my sides, settling on my hips. he doesn’t pull, doesn’t push—just holds me like i’m something precious.

i guide his hand lower, watching the way his eyes flick to mine. searching. waiting.

“are you sure?” he asks again, voice low and rough.

“yes,” i breathe. “just... be here with me.”

that’s all he needs.

his touch turns bolder, surer. his fingers trace the waistband of my shorts, slipping beneath the fabric with practiced ease, but none of this feels routine. it feels new. necessary.

my breath catches when his fingers find how wet i already am for him. his lips twitch like he wants to smirk—but doesn’t. he just leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple like it physically hurts him to be this close and not fall apart.

he touches me slowly at first, coaxing soft, broken sounds from my throat. i arch into him, needing more, and he gives it—his fingers moving with intent now, knowing exactly how to pull me apart.

my hands tangle in his hair. his name slips past my lips more than once, and every time it does, he reacts—his breath hitching, his hips pressing slightly against mine like he’s barely holding back.

i reach for him, sliding my hand between us, cupping him through his sweatpants.

he groans into my neck, voice ragged.

“fuck... you really missed me, huh?”

“you have no idea,” i whisper.

he lets out a shaky breath, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. “then show me.”

we shed the rest of our clothes in a tangle of limbs and heat and quiet gasps. the moment i guide him to my entrance, we both freeze.

he looks down at me, eyes serious. “i don’t have anything on me.”

i pause, breath shaky. “i’m on the pill.”

his gaze searches mine, like he’s giving me one last out. i don’t take it.

he nods. presses his forehead to mine.

“tell me if anything feels wrong.”

“it won’t,” i whisper. “you never did.”

and then he pushes in—slow, thick, overwhelming. my breath hitches as i adjust, eyes fluttering shut at the stretch, the heat, the way it instantly feels like too much and not enough.

he groans low in his throat. “fuck... you feel the same. better, even.”

his hips meet mine fully, and we stay like that—pressed together, still—just breathing.

then he moves.

each thrust is slow, controlled, devastating. his hand grips my thigh, pulling my leg higher around his waist, opening me wider for him. his other hand cups my face, thumb brushing over my cheek like he’s trying to anchor me there.

we move together like muscle memory. like nothing’s changed and everything has.

my moans grow softer, breathier, words slipping between them.

“don’t stop—”

“i won’t.”

he buries his face in my neck as he fucks me deeper, harder. the couch creaks beneath us, but neither of us cares. we’re too far gone.

i reach my peak fast—too fast—and i whisper his name like a prayer as it crashes over me. he groans when he feels me clench around him, his rhythm stuttering as he chases his own release.

“fuck—y/n—i’m close.”

“come,” i whisper, lips brushing his ear. “just come.”

he does. with a low, wrecked sound, he thrusts deep and stills, body shuddering as he spills inside me. his arms wrap around me tight, like he needs to hold something real.

we stay tangled. sweaty. shaking. full of things we still don’t know how to say.

his lips press to my forehead, and for the first time since he walked through my door, he sounds calm.

“i’m here,” he whispers.

i nod, breath unsteady.

“me too.”

-

i don’t know when we fell asleep.

one second he was still inside me, our bodies tangled and trembling. the next, we were curled together under the thin throw blanket i never thought i’d share with him again.

now the morning light is creeping through the blinds, pale and too honest. it paints lines across his bare shoulder, across my thighs, across the living room floor like it’s trying to remind us this was real.

my face is tucked against his chest. his arms are still around me. we never moved.

he’s warm. steady. and for the first time in months, my breathing doesn’t feel like work.

i don’t want to wake him.

but he shifts before i can decide. his arms flex around me, pulling me just slightly closer.

“you awake?” his voice is low, rough with sleep.

“mhm.”

we stay quiet for a moment.

then he says, “i forgot how loud that damn fridge is.”

i smile, just a little. “some things never change.”

he hums. “yeah.”

he doesn’t move to get up. doesn’t let go.

i keep my face pressed to his chest. “was it a mistake?”

his hand stills on my back.

i feel him breathe in deep. then—

“no.”

i swallow. “are you sure?”

he nods slowly, chin brushing my hair. “we made mistakes. but this? being with you? never was.”

i want to believe that.

but morning makes everything feel more fragile. more real.

“what now?” i whisper.

he pulls back just enough to see me, his thumb brushing gently along my cheekbone.

“i don’t know,” he says honestly. “but i don’t want to pretend anymore.”

his gaze lingers, unreadable. soft in the way only he gets when everything else is stripped away.

“i came here to ask if there’s still a chance,” he says. “if we can try again. slowly. better.”

my throat tightens. “what if we mess it up again?”

“then we mess it up honestly.”

i blink. he smiles faintly.

“i’m not here to fix the past,” he murmurs. “i’m just here because i still love you.”

those words hit me like a slow exhale.

and suddenly, the weight in my chest lifts—just a little.

i nod. “okay.”

he watches me. “okay?”

“okay,” i repeat, voice barely above a whisper. “we try.”

his smile is small but real. “good.”

he kisses my forehead, then holds me again. softer now. slower. like we’re both just starting to learn how to be held by someone we already know too well.

the clock on the wall ticks quietly behind us.

i glance at it.

7:18 a.m.

i breathe in, steady and quiet.

“we broke it,” i murmur.

he hums. “broke what?”

“the rule.”

he tilts his head. “the 2am one?”

i nod. “you weren’t supposed to text. i wasn’t supposed to answer.”

he smiles against my temple.

“maybe we needed to.”

i close my eyes.

and this time, when i say it, it feels like a beginning.

“yeah,” i whisper. “we did.”

[luvcozy]

Bringing the Admiral's Lunch 🍜

Request :- Nope

Warnings :- Fluff and cuteness from the boys, Akainu doesn't want to show that he's greatful, Fujitora being the wholesome man that he is T°T, Kizaru is just smitten, Garp being Garp, Aokiji being Aokiji, Bonus character ;)

Plot :- What better way than to visit your partner than to bring them a special lunch you made!

A/N :- Before ANYONE says anything about Green Bull, I have yet to meet him, I'm in Wano but still in the rising climax of it!! (I adore Sasaki to no end oml)

»»------------------------------------------------►

Akainu

🌋 For starters- yes he's appreciative of you bringing lunch for him, the thing is- he's a grouchy to showing it

🌋 Keeping work and home wildly separated due to how he carries himself at each place, though jokes are shared that he's just as stuck up at home as he is at work

🌋 However you, his loving partner, would say otherwise to his behavior

🌋 Now what exactly had u brought him? A delicious bento that was carefully put together of his favorites along with some interesting shaped rice balls!

🌋 Receiving the meal from you was him being unbelievably stiff, he was at least able to mutter out a thank you, be it sounding begrudgingly-

🌋 The rice balls- they were in the shape of a hound dogs! A play on his code name, adorable and delectable all in one

🌋 The only problem he had with it was when he was trying to eat, alone and in peace, Kizaru had seen the cutesy lunch and wasn't leaving him alone

🌋 Was sure to tell you about the whole ordeal and to let him know next time when you decide to drop by with such a lunch

🌋 If it upsets you he won't really say sorry, but he will invite you to have lunch with him, IF- you promise to not make his lunches so cutesy again

🌋 You don't keep it, he takes lunch one day and next thing you know right in front of Sengoku he sees the same dog rice balls and so does his boss (he never lives it down now)

Kizaru

✨ He's so lax about the whole idea itself, you bringing him lunch? How sweet of you~

✨ He me as someone who isn't really picky about what you bring or pack him, plus you get really excited when you do so, how could he deny you?~

✨ Loves when you come in to see him and bring both yours and his lunch with you

✨ Happily just starts cooing about how you're so sweet to him, pulls you into his lap if he's sat at his desk so you can eat with him

✨ Your hearing his hum of delight every so often, he loves your cooking, if you can't cook he still eats it just to see your happy face

✨ Anytime you bring him lunch you're eating it in either his office, outside at the docks or training grounds, or on a balcony

✨ You theme his lunch? How adorable of you, opening his bento you made while you talk about your day, a languid smile crosses his face

✨ Monkey shaped rice balls, the amount of detail you put into them almost makes him almost not want to eat them

✨ Tries to share the lunch you made him with you even when you have your own, if he sees something he likes he'll ask for a bit and let you pick out of his if you see something you wanna eat too

✨ Y'all feed each other your lunch half the time, along with eating both of each other's lunches, its both your lunches, not just one

Aokiji

🧊 Your walking with Koby, chatting about how your days are when you finally find Aokiji in a lounge room

🧊 He's asleep, per usual, thanking Koby as he heads off to leave you with the ice admiral, thankfully waking him wasn't bad this time

🧊 He's sleepily staring at you while wondering when and how long you've been here, takes forever to sit up, but once he does he's a bit more awake at least

🧊 It was nice to see him while at work, Sengoku was nice about it too, striking up some conversation with you at times

🧊 Aokiji is typically busy, so being able to sit and have lunch with him was a treat in itself, especially with his sleepy voice to add to it

🧊 Eats anything you give him, he doesn't complain about food often, to focused on just eating what ever delectable is in front of him

🧊 Well met with his lunch being themed around penguins, the rice balls were quite the sight and quite the munch too

🧊 Thanking you before, during, and after he eats, he likes his cold foods, but you bringing him his lunch with hot soba? He's keening for the rest of the day

🧊 Is sure to smother you after he eats, his arm around your waist waiting for you to finish yourself before you dragged onto his chest

🧊 He splays out on the couch that seemed to small for him, you nestled into his side, not moving from his grasp as he lazily runs his hand up and down your back, it was a great nap to say the least

Fujitora

☄️ The most damn adorable admiral there is, he's so sweet and kind

☄️ It's hard to not want to help him, he's skilled in his years of being blind, but it's just the both of you not wanting to say no to the other

☄️ Bringing him lunch is always a fun experience, he's shook every time you do, even if he can hear your distinct footsteps it still gets him

☄️ He loves noodles, so instead of making a lunch based around him? You put some elbow grease into making homemade ramen or soba for him

☄️ They say when you loose one sense your others heighten, it's very true for Issho, I mean he can comfortably walk around your flat without his stick sword

☄️ You prep the night before, while making dinner you take a little longer so you can get things ready for tomorrow morning, even slightly avoiding Issho's questions on what you up too

☄️ The work and wait is worth it, meeting him suddenly on his walk, (you had to bribe Kizaru to help you with Sakazuki to even have lunch) he's surprised that your met with his blinded eyes staring back at you as you tell him you brought lunch to enjoy together

☄️ You sit outside under a nice shaded area as you hand the bowl to him and set your own, watching him carefully with a smile as he ate

☄️ God he loves you, bringing him his favorite dish? OH- you made his favorite food? He's smitten, praising you with almost every bite he takes

☄️ Landing a kiss on your forehead with practiced ease, he thanks you tremendously for the meal and promises to return the favor 10 times over, what a big sweetheart he is 💜

Garp

🐶 His sweet sweet partner, how you've tolerated him for so long over the years was beyond most that worked with Garp

🐶 Not to mention how you deal with his appetite, he eats like a bottomless pit, something him and his grandkids all seemed to share

🐶 Being well versed in this over the years, you've had the experience to know that if your bringing him lunch, it's going to be a lot and portioned heartily

🐶 Food is a way to his heart that's for sure, adores your cooking and makes you try what he's eating even if you already have, he just needs you to know how much he enjoys it

🐶 Honey laced buns and bee themed beef rice balls with a massive side of other foods, he has a big smile while he crushes you in a hug and a thank you kiss to your temple

🐶 He's not opposed to sharing the food, but it's rather you that tells him to eat his fill, he does every time, not a thing left behind in his monstrous appetites wake

🐶 Brings the dishes home and does them and any others you used that haven't been washed yet, gotta return the favor somehow with the amazing food you make him

🐶 Your joined by Sengoku when you do bring Garp lunch, the two being friends after all, sometimes you bring him one or feeding into his rice cracker addiction

🐶 Your both typically sat in the dinning hall or his office, he's not really picky about where he eats, but he wants to sit down at some point, so having set places to go to make that a shorter wait

🐶 He returns the favor, brings you lunch at times or invites you out to lunch that he covers the price of, thankfully- the bill runs high normally, but this time it wasn't coming out for your pocket

Bonus

Smoker

🌪️ Another difficult man to take lunch too

🌪️ He's actually very grateful when you bring him lunch, he enjoys it, he doesn't enjoy having his men witness his softness with you

🌪️ Smokers day is typically boring as is, he's surrounded by dunces and constantly keeping an eye on Tashigi's clumsy butt, it takes more of a mental toll than a physical one

🌪️ It's a nice surprise at times when he finds out in his office, food set out on the table while you greet him in

🌪️ Opens both his windows if it's nice out so that he can at least keep one of his cigars lit if he still doesn't have an appetite yet

🌪️ When he does have his appetite hit him, he's putting his cigar out whilst talking to you, unaware of the whole little theme you put into your lunches

🌪️ Sits next to you, planting a kiss to your cheek and a soft thank you meeting your ears before he starts to eat

🌪️ About 2 bites in he finally noticed how the rice balls you made are shaped like Clouds, the more he thought about it was the moment he let an amused snort leaves him

🌪️ Your poking at him and laughing while trying to get him to admit that he enjoyed the spin you took on the lunch

🌪️ Just when you think you've got him, his smile clear and his own challenged look, Tashigi walks in and stumbles upon sight... You're not allowed to bring him lunch for awhile after that

═══════════•°• 💜 •°•═══════════

Till next time, Cozy over and out!~

Tags :- @opheliasadventures1

[xavistarlight]

Thinking about dad Caleb letting his insecurities get the best of him.

Caleb x fem!reader

So we all know Caleb has his insecurities over his looks maybe looking too average compared to others, his hair color, freckles etc.

Caleb always hoped his daughter would come out a little version of you mostly because he couldn’t wait to care for a mini version of you , but deep inside his heart slightly because he didn’t want his daughter to suffer with the insecurities that he does.

So safe to say when you gave birth and your daughter came out a spitting image of Caleb.

( his stubborn genes to be blamed ) he was worried , he wasn’t disappointed not even in the slightest he’d gotten the daughter he had always dreamed of and loved her to bits he just didn’t want her to suffer at the hands of him.

Caleb was usually the one to do your daughter’s hair , not because you couldn’t but because it was something he enjoyed, when you were younger he had always done your hair for school, little twists and bows and cute rubber band filled hairstyles and it was sweet to see him replicate the styles on your daughter.

“ Anddd all done ! “ he exclaims as he ties the last rubber band into the little girls hair.

Today was Valentine’s Day and the preschool your daughter is in , is doing a special party to celebrate so obviously Caleb took it upon himself to make sure his baby girl was the best dressed there ( she was already the cutest either way)

“ look mama papa put a heart in my hair , look look !!!” Your daughter excitedly runs over to you in the kitchen to show you her Valentine’s Day hair style and outfit.

She had her long ash brown hair half up half down, with two braids conjoining together to make a heart , completed with a red ribbon to match her red dress. She does a spin just as clumsy as you she’s unsteady on her feet slightly to happy to notice.

“ careful love bug “ Caleb walks behind her letting out a chuckle.

“ I’m okay daddy! “ she sticks a thumb up and smiles with a toothy grin , reminding you exactly of Caleb when he was around her age. She had the spunk of you , and the goofy nature of Caleb.

She was perfect.

Caleb taps his foot excitedly, holding your hand in his.

This is his favorite part of the day , school pick up time. Getting his girl back getting to hear all of her child like rambles about all the things she did today , the things she learned and he specifically enjoyed how she was always the first one to dart out to be engulfed in a hug by her mama and papa.

But .. something was off she wasn’t excitedly running out today , and her usually sparkly lavender eyes full of excitement looked like they held pure sadness.

Confused as ever u and Caleb give each other a glance.

Once she gets to the car she’s silent

“ baby girl please talk to us we’re worried” you state as she looks at you through her eyelashes tears forming on her waterline and welling up in her eyes.

The.. kids at school … said im ugly she sniffles between every sentence.

Calebs biggest fear personified

You look over at him an almost unreadable expression on his face, unreadable if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand, he’s fighting with his inner thoughts.

“ baby you know that’s not true daddy tells you every day how beautiful of a girl you are and not only that how beautiful of a heart you have “

Caleb is brought back to the delivery room when he scanned his daughters face , sparkly lavender eyes looking up at him the color all him but the shape all you , the cutest button nose that reminded him of the one he had kissed countless times. And faint freckles already slightly visible that would darken with age. The same freckles you would count before you went to sleep.

That’s when he realized there was no need to be insecure, love had brought you her a beautiful daughter made up of the features both of you adored about each other. A daughter made up of the sheer adoration you two have for each other.

“ my angel , don’t ever let someone else’s mindset of what’s beautiful cloud your judgment. You’re a careful blend of two people who absolutely adore each other me and your mama, two people who find each other even more beautiful with each passing day. You’re a part of us a fragment of our love and that’s beautiful all in its own way isn’t it hm”

He gently caressed the side of her chubby cheek.

You watched the whole conversation and interaction, it was almost as if while he was teaching her he had also come to the realization himself and there was just something so beautiful about that.

While your daughter was still little she most likely didn’t understand every exact meaning of what he said she was still emotionally in-tune finally breaking and letting out sobs.

You and Caleb both give each other knowing smiling hugging her. Giving her the affection you two never had as children. Somehow healing inner wounds by parenting your own child.

Later that night

“ goodnight my tiny pipsqueak “ he kisses the grown of her head

Closing the door quietly behind himself he meets you by the door

“ you know Caleb, your an amazing dad and I’m so lucky she has you.. we’re both lucky to have you”

“ I think I’m the lucky one here “ he giggles your awkward Caleb never being able to take a compliment.

He’s taken aback as you reach up too leave scattered kiss all over his face

“ tickles.. whatcha doin pips “

“ kissing every single one of my prettiest boys freckles, i think he deserved to hear what you told our baby girl tonight. all those years ago “

He breaks down slightly in your arms, more vulnerable reminding u he’s the same boy he’s always been. Your pretty boy , your Caleb.

[dippindaz]

Relationship HCs

Decided I wanted to go back to my roots and write some horror characters :) I hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Controlling/manipulative behaviors, toxic dynamics, mentions of death and violence (not major character, mentions of stalking,

Characters Included: Brahms, Thomas Hewitt, Danny "Jed" Olsen, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis, Stu Marcher.

Brahms Heelshire

Extremely clingy and possessive. Brahms doesn’t just want you around—he needs you. You’re his entire world, and he expects to be yours too.

Jealous of any attention you give others, even innocuous stuff like a friendly conversation with the delivery boy. He’ll sulk, break something, or go quiet behind the walls until you “apologize.”

Strict routines and rules—he expects you to read to him, cook for him, and follow his schedule. But over time, you realize he also follows a version of your schedule. He memorizes everything about your habits.

Childlike tendencies, especially emotionally. He doesn’t always know how to express feelings beyond tantrums or intense stares, but he genuinely adores you in the only way he knows how.

Brahms is touch-starved. He clings in his sleep, always wants to hold hands or sit close, and gets visibly upset when you pull away—even if it’s just for a second.

Homebody couple life. He doesn’t want you to leave the estate—ever. If he has to let you go somewhere, expect him to be freaking out the entire time you're gone and either be extra clingy when you get back or extra closed-off.

Thomas Hewitt

Incredibly protective. Once he considers you his, you’re under constant protection. Anyone who even looks at you the wrong way… doesn’t look at anything again.

Thomas expresses affection through his actions. He’s nonverbal, but he’ll bring you things he thinks you��ll like—bones, odd trinkets, handmade gifts—and looks to you for approval afterward.

He likes to be close, leans into you for comfort, and has a calming presence despite everything. Being held by him feels safe in a strange, primal way.

Listen, Thomas is really a big baby. If you cry or raise your voice, he panics and tries to fix it. Expect him to bring you comfort items, mimic your expressions to show empathy, or even get Mama to help. He hates when you're upset, whether with him or not.

Your life is domestic, in it's own weird way. You both settle into a routine that’s grotesque on the outside but oddly comforting once you adjust. He likes when you hum while you work.

Loyal to death. Once you’re his, he’ll never let go. Even the thought of losing you is enough to send him into a spiral of rage or grief.

Danny “Jed” Olsen

Flirty, chaotic, and intense. Danny is the kind of guy who flirts like it's a game but is dead serious about you underneath the teasing.

Danny loves making you squirm. He’ll joke about stalking you (and probably did before you got together. Let's be real, he probably still does), sends you cryptic texts from across the room, or whisper twisted things just to see your reaction.

Photos of you everywhere. Some are sweet, some are… definitely not. He documents your relationship obsessively—whether it’s a romantic moment or a vulnerable one.

He's got a dark sense of humor and hopefully you do too. He loves when you match his energy, but if you don’t, he’ll tone it down just enough to keep you from leaving—then push again when he’s feeling brave.

Hyper-focused on you. He watches your every move, knows your patterns, your tells, your fears. It’s equal parts seductive and terrifying how well he reads you.

Deep down, he hopes you’ll love not just the charming mask he puts on, but the messed-up parts too. If you do? You’ve got his loyalty for life—even if it’s a dangerous one.

Michael Myers

Utterly silent but always watching. You never really know where Michael is, but you always feel him—whether it’s a shadow behind the curtain or a shape across the street. He watches you constantly, but not always maliciously—sometimes just… fascinated.

Very protective. If anyone threatens you? They're gone. No warning. No trace. He doesn’t tolerate any danger near you—not even perceived danger.

Quality time is his love language (If you can even call it that). He doesn’t speak or do traditional affection, but he’ll leave you items (stolen or not), stand guard outside your house, or silently sit nearby when you're upset.

Emotionally unreadable—but not emotionless. Over time, you can tell when he’s calm, angry, or curious. It’s all in the tilt of his head, the speed of his breathing, the way he stands just a little closer.

Michael follows you like a shadow. Even when he’s not visible, he’s nearby. If you try to leave him, he will follow. He’s never going to let you go—but somehow, it feels more like devotion than captivity.

Physical comfort is rare but intense. When he finally touches you(outside of sexual touches)—gently brushing your hair back, letting his hand linger—it’s deliberate and heavy with meaning. He doesn't do anything halfway.

Billy Loomis

Hot-and-cold as fuck. One moment, he’s magnetic, whispering sweet nothings like you’re the only person in the world. The next? Cold, distant, suspicious. You’re always on your toes.

Emotionally manipulative, but not always on purpose. He knows how to make you feel guilty, even when you haven't done anything. Sometimes it's calculated. Sometimes it's just because he’s afraid you’ll leave.

Billy is secretive. He hides things constantly but loses his mind if you do. If you even look at someone else for too long, expect a quiet but tense confrontation later.

He craves your trust but doesn’t trust you. He wants you to love him unconditionally—but doesn't believe you actually could if you "knew everything." This makes him spiral, often.

He fantasizes about you being his ride-or-die, someone who won’t just accept the killer side of him, but maybe even join it. The idea of you being his ride-or-die is thrilling for him.

Weirdly romantic in the rare quiet moments. He’ll run his fingers through your hair, kiss your wrist, stare at you like he’s memorizing you. He means it. He just doesn’t know how to keep it.

Stu Macher

Clingy and codependent. Stu needs constant attention. He’s like a puppy crossed with a sociopath—needing affection one minute, giggling over murder the next.

Stu always has his hands on you, always exaggerating his emotions to get a reaction—whether that’s “fake dying” for kisses or pouting until you reassure him.

He will do literally anything to impress you. He’s impulsive and easily influenced, especially by Billy—but if you told him to ditch murder and just watch movies with you forever, he’d probably try.

Terrified of abandonment. He plays things off like a joke, but the thought of losing you breaks him. He’d cry, beg, or go completely unhinged trying to keep you.

Stu over-shares everything. He couldn't keep a secret from you even if he was trying. He’ll ramble about kills, about plans, about what he wants to do to people who “looked at you funny.” It’s weirdly honest—he has no filter with you.

Loves being called your boyfriend. Like, loves it. He’ll say it a dozen times a day and gets all smug if you say it in public. Being yours is his favorite identity.