#she tell them to do something and she can and will make their day miserable

[luvst4rc0r3]

Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

or

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ CALEB | surprise at the lake (valentine's day)

── ◜caleb x fem!reader — ◜short special | specials from the rest of the LIs on my profile

"Caleb…" she sighed, feeling him gently tug on her hand to make her walk.

She was sad and miserable, not even bothering to hide it. She had lost track of what year it was exactly, but she was pretty sure this was about the 300th year she had spent Valentine's Day alone. Alone and miserable. Not that she cared about being in a relationship—it had never been a priority—but after seeing her friends and hearing about their plans, she couldn't help feeling down.

She had told Caleb about it, and he had found a thousand different ways to tell her it was okay, that she didn’t need anyone to enjoy the day. And it worked… for a few minutes. That morning, when he called, she had told him she wasn’t going to do anything at all and refused to get out of bed. But her plan was interrupted when Caleb showed up at her house unannounced.

Now, she wasn’t sure where they were heading, but the place seemed vaguely familiar. Caleb had said he had a surprise, and, well, she wasn't about to turn down surprises.

"We’re almost there." She sighed, giving up, and stayed silent until they arrived.

That’s when she felt her chest tighten. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in their surroundings. There was a small memory lingering in her mind, but it felt like it slipped away every time she tried to grasp it.

"How did you…" She tore her gaze away from the lake in front of her and looked at him, a mix of surprise in her expression.

"We used to come here when we were kids, remember?" She nodded. She had a faint memory. She had tried to hold onto it, but it was frustrating not being able to recall it fully. There were actually a lot of things about her childhood she didn't remember, and she hated that.

"I think so… I didn’t remember this place. I think there is a faint memory," she admitted. It wasn’t until they were standing there that the memory finally clicked.

"Come here." She felt Caleb’s hands slide into hers, placing something in them. She wanted to look down and see what it was, but for a moment, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his… His eyes had always been one of her favorite things about him.

When she finally snapped back to reality, she lowered her gaze. Caleb had handed her food for… ducks? "There aren’t any—" He cut her off by pointing behind her.

She turned around to see a small group of ducks swimming calmly near the shore a few meters away. A huge smile spread across her face, and she didn’t hesitate to walk toward them. She knelt by the edge of the water, extending her hand in hopes that one of them would take the food.

"You’re going to fall," Caleb’s voice startled her slightly. His hands wrapped around her waist, holding her gently to keep her from toppling forward. She had to try her best not to close her eyes and focus solely on the way his hands pressed her waist.

She felt like she had spent the best minutes feeding the animals, watching them swimming towards them, asking for more food, and making their little noises.

"Can you see those two?" She pointed at a pair of ducks a little farther from the rest. One of them dipped its head into the water, leaving only its tiny feet sticking out. "That’s us."

Caleb frowned in confusion and turned his gaze toward her. She looked so calm, her expression filled with happiness as she watched the ducks and absentmindedly popped a chocolate into her mouth from the box he had brought. "I assume the one with its head in the water is you."

"What? No! That’s you." She turned back to him, confused, then let out a laugh and returned her gaze to the ducks. He hadn’t denied they were like them. She remembered dating a guy once who hated when she did that—he’d say they weren’t objects or animals. Caleb would never do that if it was something that made her smile.

They both fell silent for a few seconds. She glanced down at the box of chocolates—her favorites. Caleb was the only person in the world who knew what her favorite chocolates were.

"Thank you," she finally murmured, breaking the silence. She lifted her gaze to him. Caleb met her eyes but said nothing, unsure of what she meant. "For making this day less sad and miserable. I… I really didn’t expect this."

She sighed, looking away. It had meant so much to her, and she wasn’t sure if Caleb realized just how much.

"Come here." He motioned for her to move closer, and she obeyed. He set the box of chocolates on his lap and waited for her to close the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. "I would never leave you alone on a day that’s special to you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She felt something stir in her chest and did her best not to show it. When they were younger, she had told Caleb that Valentine’s Day was her favorite day—maybe that’s why being alone on this day affected her so much.

There were a lot of things about her childhood she didn't remember. But Caleb seemed to remember everything about her.

[icecoldbeauty]

Ah... makes me remember waaay back before I even finished the gym challenge. Used to think I'd never amount to anything- how could I have? I lived on the smallest of all the Sevii islands- never been more than 20 residents there!, I was frail, lonely standoffish, never really achieved anything before, and had nothing special about me. But I could battle, and I liked to battle. Still remember the day I sat up and said to myself, you know what? I'm done sitting and waiting for purpose to come to me, I'm going to go to it! - and set off for mainland Kanto... I'm still so glad I did. I myself never had any rivals myself- or well, I don't think I did! I'd certainly improved by then but I was... still rather socially inept to put it lightly when I set off... I'd not be surprised if I accidentally made some of my peers think I wanted that with them and I never even noticed! I imagine having a proper rival'd be quite fun, though! I really would have done so many things to be able to comfortably been out in my youth like that. But you know what? I'm proud and damn happy that so many more people today can be, even if I couldn't. Less people will have to feel the way I did about it, which was awful and not something I'd wish on anyone. I'm happy for Sonia and Nessa- and I don't oft use this kind of language, but the tabloids can fuck right off with this erasure shit- and I'm happy for you too, and I hope that everyone that wants people like you and me silenced and stifled in any way lives the rest of their life even more miserable than they want us to feel. Assholes need a taste of their own medicine more often. (Also, people seriously read their own wikipedia articles? I've never looked at mine once!) I'd say that's still considerable progress from how it was in my heyday, but there really is still so incredibly much left to make. Really, I'd be happy if I can see even just a little more substantial amounts get made before my times up- I want to be able to leave the world knowing it was better than when I started. I don't get to have long and thoughtful conversations too much anymore, really I'm honored you're finding some joy in talking this much with me of all people! Still a little strange to hear people like talking to me really, but makes me happy nonetheless. But I really don't know if I could do that anymore... Arc, I still feel so awful that I didn't tell her when I first had the chance- and every time I receive a letter back from her, I read it thinking about how much I wish I had... Sometimes I wonder if I still could, but then I ask myself, 'is it really worth it after all this time, especially in your age and condition?', and I just... can't do it. I mean, like I said, my time is even more limited than the average person- frail and easily prone to sickness I am, and once I get a few more years up there, well, I don't know how well I'll be able to fight off illnesses by then. She's healthier than me, she'll almost definitely have longer to live. I don't wanna drag her down in that way. I don't want to leave her alone in that way, she doesn't deserve to have that happen to her really. I don't know anymore though... I've been thinking about her more than usual lately. If there's any chance it could still be worth it... Oh my Arc- apologies, this is hitting me a tad harder than I'd expected... agh, being emotional and sentimental sucks sometimes...! Ah... Well, the idea of having endorsements for the league is pretty interesting. I presume it's difficult to get one? Wonder how I'd have faired with something like that in place back when I set off, like I've said I wasn't precisely the most pleasant at that age! Don't know if anyone'd have wanted to give me one, haha! And I'll admit, some of the crazy league stories I've both experienced in my own and heard from others are incredibly amusing. I still remember when I heard about one of the champions battle in Unova being stopped by... I think they said it was a an entire castle busting the place down of all the things, nothing will beat that in sheer hilarity.

Oh yeah wait you're too old to know what inkay games is my bad

Oh, please, I’m only twenty-three.

[ he’s not old. don’t make that mistake again. ]

—💎

[softquietsteadylove]

Both Gil and Thena are like super strong aliens, and Gil is like the strongest man on earth, there is no way they didn't break the bed while doing it. May i ask for a very spicy one where that happens.

Gilgamesh pressed his back to the door once it was closed behind him. "Finally."

Thena laughed quietly. She agreed, and not just because they were finally on dry land again. The journey to this continent had been harrowing for her, and she truly never wanted to board a human sea-faring vessel ever again.

Gil chuckled as well, moving from the inn room door and over to her on the bed. "Feeling better?"

The Warrior Eternal sighed, folding herself into his side immediately. The voyage was long, the sea's movement and tempo was sickening. And they were separated for much of the voyage, which was arguably worse for her than the other two drawbacks.

Gilgamesh received her, rubbing her back and pressing his lips to her temple. "I've got you."

"Hm," she purred, pushing her face into his shoulder and inhaling. "You smell of the sea."

"I smell like sweat and barnacles, probably," he snorted, pushing some hair behind her ear. "You smell like fresh sea air."

"I never want to see the ocean again."

"I don't think we have that option, sweetheart," he smiled, pulling her closer until she was ultimately in his lap. They continued to paw at each other, nuzzling and pushing their faces closer as if to fuse into one being. "But I promise it'll at least be a while until we have to face it again."

"So be it," Thena murmured, her fingers trailing down to the tunic he was wearing. It was commonfolk clothing, worn solely so they could stick out on the ship as little as possible.

It hadn't been very successful. The group of completely stunning beings from seemingly multiple strange lands had drawn plenty of attention.

"Is this because of the ocean smell?" Gilgamesh chuckled as she pawed at his shirt. "Or did you just miss me?"

"It can be both," she parried, tilting her head up and touching her lips to the underside of his jaw.

He leaned into a proper kiss, their lips sealing together. She undid his shirt while he unfurled the shawl that had been around her shoulders through the whole journey. He didn't want her to get cold, but it did little to hide how svelte her beauty was. "I would have thought you wanted to rest."

She was tired, but it was more urgent she feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. "The only thing I desire is you."

The Strongest Eternal heeded her wishes, as he always did. He let her pull his shirt off over his head, while he worked on getting her dress off her.

"This continent is the last place with Deviants on it. I'll have to find you some armour," he whispered between kisses, although as soon as her body was free of her dress' bodice his hands were upon her skin.

She hummed her appreciation. His palms were greater support than any cloth or corset or boning structure. His hands cradled her breasts with love and appreciation--in a way only he was capable.

The bed creaked as they moved, Gilgamesh scooping up her smaller body and moving her to the center of the bed. He laid over her. Her hands made quick work of his suspenders and his trousers were done away with shortly afterward.

Thena moaned as he kissed her neck, trailed his tongue down her throat until his mouth could join his hands in their worship of her. Her back arched as he kneaded her ache and soreness away. He was perhaps too enthusiastic about it. "I am not a loaf of bread, Gilgamesh."

"No," he emerged to grin at her. He kissed her again, letting his fingers trail around and over her nipples once more before continuing further. "You're much sweeter."

Thena let out another, louder moan. She dug her heels into the bed under them as his fingers moved between her legs. He wasted no time, touching her in a way that was breathtakingly familiar. They knew every inch of one another.

"Good," he encouraged her, his fingers entering slowly. "Just relax. It's you and me."

Let the world bleed away, he was saying. The sea, their mission, even the rest of their team were far away. It was only them in this little bubble. Thena slid her arms up over her head until she could dig her fingers into the pillow, its linens giving way to her rounded fingernails like wet paper to a spear.

Gilgamesh lifted her hips, propping her up against his thighs as he crouched. Lifting her with one hand was the same as picking up a light tome, as far as he was concerned. She was so lithe, so precious and delicate. He always handled her like a newly budding flower stem. Her skin was soft as petals and she had her own sweet, intoxicating scent to her.

"Yes," Thena gasped, tightening around his stimulation. She was not a creature made for relaxation, but Gilgamesh could always lure her into it. He could work some kind of sorcery that had her twisting and turning and aching for his touch. "That's it, I'm-"

"Stay with me," he whispered, moving his fingers faster within her. He always touched her this way first. He needed her pleasure like he needed his own. One inexorably led to the other, and the more at ease she was, the better their pleasure could be.

Thena threw her head back and moaned up into the constructed canopy of the bed, just some linen stretched over the top frame supported by the posts. It was of semblance to the canopies sheltering beds of luxurious nobles on other continents. She blinked up at it. "Reminds me of the beds we had in Rus."

Gilgamesh grinned to himself. He was always pleased when she could find release. He had a first hand sense of her muscles loosening, her nerve endings absorbing things and helping to dull the sharp, prickling awareness that always had her on edge. "Yeah, those were pretty nice."

He crawled over her again to kiss her. She could taste that he had licked her arousal off his fingers first.

"Think this one is as strong as they were?"

She rolled her eyes at his vigor but allowed it. With great effort, she lifted her arms from the bed and looped them around his neck. "That is far from my concern at the moment."

He kissed her even more fervently. Their lips met again and again like waves crashing into cliffs. Their bodies moved seamlessly to create one amalgamation of them both, skin sealed together with skin. Her legs wound around him as he pushed into her completely.

Gilgamesh moaned even louder than she did as he buried himself to the hilt. Their pelvises met, grinding together as they both adjusted to the fusion of their bodies. He looked good, head tilted up, mouth dropped open. He looked to be in worship (rightfully so, the Goddess of War thought).

She pressed her lips together as another moan rippled through her body, and even passed into him via vibration. Her shoulders shimmied in the bed, making it groan again. "Was our separation even harder on you than I?"

"I dunno about that," he mumbled, slowly coming back to her as his head dropped again. He gripped her thighs, firmly but gently, softly but passionately. "But maybe there were a few nights when I had to more than take a leak off the side of the ship."

She rolled her eyes at her lifelong beloved. "Such a romantic."

"Hey, you asked," he laughed, and got a giggle out of her too. Laughing felt funny when they were joined like this, but it also felt doubly joyous, the movement travelling through both of them in a kind of feedback loop.

He sighed, kissing up her arm and to her shoulder and then her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck again. He folded himself into her, his shoulders against hers, chest to chest, leaving only room between their waists to accommodate their joined lower halves. "I missed you."

"Hm," she mused as she ran her fingers through his hair. Every breath they took felt like it healed a scar that had appeared over the course of the journey. Every time her chest rose and collided with his doing the same, she smiled. "As did I."

He raised his head again to kiss her as he started moving. "I love you, Thena."

She didn't need words for her reply. Every minute of every day was her reply to that statement. And moreover, in the moment, her muscles did the replying, squeezing around him by sheer reflex.

He kissed her, letting her reciprocation seep into him bone deep. His hips moved, making the bed squeak with each and every thrust. The more he picked up speed, the more sound it caused, the feet even scraping against the uneven flooring. "This fuckin' bed."

Thena gasped as he changed angle, scraping against her in a most lascivious way. "You were the one who couldn't - ah! - wait."

He huffed, some of his libido overtaking his previous lightheartedness. "Haven't been able to hold my wife properly for weeks, damn right I wasn't waiting anymore. I don't care if this thing falls through the floor."

Thena bit her lip amidst smiling. It was a funny thing to imagine, but the excitement at the idea was a welcome and unexpected side effect.

He snorted, leaning up again so he could hold her hips and thrust harder. Their skin slapped together and the bed started truly swaying with their motions. "You think so too, huh?"

She said nothing, but her moans began floating up and out of her again as he pressed his thumbs into the pits of her thighs, spreading her lips and allowing him to dig in deep. "I am not thinking anyth-!"

Gil moved one hand, gripping from the bottom of one hip and from the top of her other. His thumb stretched down to slither through her blonde curls and drag across her firmest nerve center.

"Ah!" Thena gasped from deep in her chest. Her breasts fell and rose, she gripped the headboard, but it was completely shattered as soon as she did so. The wood splintered and clattered to the floor beneath the window. "Shit."

"Fuck!" Gilgamesh joined her in her unmitigated ecstasy. They were both being driven purely by physical sensation and instinct. One of his legs stretched out behind him, but his foot destroyed the back of the bed as well.

They both were forced to pause as the 'canopy' frame tumbled out of the post next. Gil launched forward, covering her body with his. The wood fell to the side with not nearly as much climax as they possessed. He peeked at it, and then at her, the linen from it draped over their nakedness now. "You okay?"

She was panting for breath, chest flushed and skin aflame. Perhaps somewhat dazed, but unharmed, she nodded.

"You sure? I-"

"Keep going."

He blinked just once before he resumed his position. If anything, she was tighter than before, the moment of startlement having coiled her muscles again. "Fuck, sweetie, you gotta relax."

"I was," she panted as she let herself drown in the feeling of him moving inside of her again.

"I'm close, I'm really - really - close," Gilgamesh less informed her and more spouted off from pure need. His hips picked up a pace over which he had no control. "Come on, sweet'art, just let go."

Thena moaned from her gut as Gilgamesh poured into her. Hot, molten love coursed through her veins as she followed, like a tree tumbling in a forest and knocking down the second nearest. Her core squeezed around him. His heat, his firmness, feeling every breath he took from the inside out; her vision went white and her whole body arched off the bed.

The room was full of panting breaths, fallen wood, even hay and feathers from the bedding. Gilgamesh caught his breath, running a hand through his hair. He let go of her slowly, watching the imprints of his hands on her disappear slowly against the colour in her skin.

Thena moaned as he slipped out of her, in more ways than one. The last time they laid together felt like a lifetime ago, now, but he always made up for any time lost, that was certain. Her head wasn't even on the pillow she had ripped in half, her hair was everywhere, intermixing with the white downy feathers flying in the air. Her skin felt warm to the touch, as if she had been lazing in the sun like an iguana on a rock. She lifted her arms (at least she thought she was lifting her arms).

Gilgamesh obliged, leaning over her once again and kissing her soundly. Their breathing synced up and he departed from the kiss only to leave countless more against her flushed cheeks and neck and chest. "You okay now?"

"Hm," she purred from her chest, her hands running over his skin idly, just for the enjoyment of it. "Deeply."

"Good," he chuckled, leaning up from her embrace only to examine the damage. The linen of the bed was draped around them awkwardly, the bed itself was in shambles. It was a miracle it was still on its legs and off the floor, truly.

The door slammed open, Kingo and Sersi rushing in. "Is everything okay?! We heard a--whoa!"

Kingo held his hand up, although he had truly only seen Gil's naked back and the state of the room around the fallen sheet. Sersi squeaked, turning away at even the implication of a pale leg hanging off the edge of the bed. "Sorry!"

Kingo pulled the door behind him, but they could clearly hear him long after it was closed. "Seriously?! We're here for five minutes and they've totally wrecked the place!"

Thena pulled her lover back to her, laughing into his shoulder.

He chuckled as well, pressing a kiss to her hair as he began smoothing it down. "Laugh it up, you're not gonna wanna look at him for the rest of the day."

She chose to ignore his - completely untrue - implication that she would feel shy at being discovered. "Poor Sersi won't be able to speak to us for a week."

Gil nuzzled into her again, settled on his side with her, wood and linen and feathers be damned. "We'll have to get another room."

"We will," she agreed, rolling and sliding her limbs along his skin until she felt properly affixed to him.

"What will we tell them?" he laughed. He twisted, reaching behind him to tug the linen just enough that he could somewhat drape it over them (but mostly her).

"That this continent is full of very dangerous creatures," she murmured, using the exact vageries that Ajak tended to use on people these days. "One flew right through that window."

Gilgamesh laughed from his belly, which shook against her pleasantly. "Oh, now we're flat out lying to people?"

She smiled against his pectoral, losing all sense in her extremities to the warmth overtaking her brain. "Do you wish for me to say that my husband made love to me so voraciously that their bed is in shambles?"

He blushed.

She let out a chuckle of her own, situating her head under his chin just so. "That is what I thought. And regardless, that is a matter for later--if not tomorrow."

She was done with absolutely anything and everything as of now, as far as she was concerned. Everyone else, their mission, even the rest of their team were far away. It was only them in this little bubble.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.

[producedbysohyun]

Shark Week

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the people in squid game would react to you being on your period (all separate)

Includes: Thanos, Se-mi, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Jun-ho, Hyun-ju (non!squid game au)

Warnings: We are pretending for this one they aren’t all in major debt 🤗, a little suggestive on thanos’s part, If you’re scared of periods don’t read I guess?? 😭

masterlist

a/n: this goes out to all my people who have to deal with periods! We are in this together 😔✊

Thanos

Ya you’re out of luck with this one 😔

Probably the worst person to have with you during your period

Definitely trys to rap his way into making you feel better but just fails miserably

“I know another way to make you feel better 😏��

“No”

“Ok 😞” *walks off with yet again another failed attempt*

If you asked him to go out and by you pads he would probably come back with those small cotton pads for your face

I mean he’s trying 😭

The type to ask “are you on your period” whenever you’re in a bad mood and is met with a slap every time

Doesn’t know what else to do so he probably just goes even more broke buying a bunch of food for you

(“With what money” we all yell in unison 🗣️)

Tolerates watching your “stupid” shows that you like just to make you happy but ends up being really interested

Se-mi

One of the best people to have with you

Deals with her period really well so she doesn’t really understand your pain but she gets the other things

Cuddles you all day!!

Literally turns into your slave

I feel like she would tease you about something and then accidentally make you cry because you’re overly sensitive

She feels so bad and you better believe she’s gonna watch what she says for the remainder of your period

You guys watch shows all day and just eat junk food

*stares at you dying in pain* “is it that bad?”

*starts crying*

“What- nooo baby I’m sorry” *queue her kissing all over your face*

I’m in love with her

Dae-ho

*sigh* I love him

Dude has four sisters so you are in luck

He definitely knows what to do

Gives you so much cuddles

He’s probably extra clingy to you during this time but if you tell him you want space he definitely respects it

If you’re having cramps he’ll give you tummy rubs 😔

I need him so bad wjdvjwwjwdjwkwj

Lowkey gets a bit freaked out when you start having mood swings

So he’s definitely careful with what he says not that he could ever hurt your feelings anyways

Is there to comfort you when you start crying over dumb stuff and NEVER makes fun of you for it

Gets you all your favorite snacks!!!

Ugh I need him

Myung-gi

Lowkey avoids you at first

Confused pt.2

He gets the hang of it pretty quickly tho

“Are you on your period” pt.2

Slapped pt.2

Poor boy didn’t even mean it in a bad way he was just genuinely curious 😞

Secretly looks up what to do

You guys binge watch shows together the whole day while cuddling

Try’s not giggle if you start crying over the show

And if you see him laughing it only makes you cry more

“No no Jagiya I’m sorrrryyy”

*Kisses your face till you stop crying*

Besides the laughing part he’s not a terrible person to have 👍

Jun-ho

Gives you your space

Kinda just lets you do your own thing but if you specifically need something he’ll do it for you

He’s up for giving you cuddles but you gotta ask him cause he doesn’t wanna do anything to upset you :(

Weirdly calm about the whole thing

Sends you texts asking how you’re feeling throughout the day as he can’t be there with you the whole time due to his job

Very very patient when you have mood swings

Buys you food pt.3

Overall not too bad

Hyun-ju

She definitely knows what to do

Very educated

Cuddles pt.4!!!!!!

Does everything she possible can to make you feel better cause she hates seeing you in pain

If somebody upsets you she will personally go and deal with them herself girl doesn’t play around

Constantly checks up on you asking if there’s anything she can do

Literally never makes you cry

She’s so gentle with you 🙁

10/10 person to have when your on your period

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed! This was a lot of fun to make!!

[peppermint-toads]

you were so sick and tired of being pregnant. you were always so hot, tired, sore.

your due date was three days ago. you were moping and miserable. your ob didn’t want to induce for whatever fucking reason. you begged her to tell you what you could do to get this fucking baby out of you already.

her suggestion took really surprised you.

simon made sure to always be at all of your appointments, even if you assured him that some of them were complete wastes of time.

you were just so, so glad he couldn’t make it to this one because your ob had essentially suggested you go home and get boned.

you never had to expressly ask simon to fuck you. never. he just knew or he was the one to initiate it.

your face was already red as you walked into your apartment. simon was in the kitchen starting dinner (bless him).

“thought i’d make something spicy. get things moving along, you know.”

you would’ve smiled at the thought of him researching foods that induced labor if you weren’t so worked up.

you set your keys and purse down.

“how was the appointment, love? sorry i couldn’t make it this go ‘round.”

again, your heart melted at how soft of a person simon managed to become.

“um, actually, simon—”

he halted immediately, rounding the kitchen island to place a hand on your stomach.

“what? is everything okay?”

god you can do this. deep breath.

“my ob said that, to help the baby, we should uhm. y’know.”

your gaze subconsciously drifted down towards the bulge in his pants that was there even though he was soft.

you looked back up at him and could see that it hadn’t clicked. you sighed again.

“she said if we fuck the baby might come sooner.”

it was simon’s turn to nearly choke. he nodded, slightly shocked by your bluntness. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like seeing you squirm as you forced yourself to blurt it out.

“okay,” he said decidedly. easy peasy. “if she suggested it, that means it’s safe, right?”

you nodded.

and that was that. he had you naked and rolling your hips on top of him within ten minutes. he helped you grind on his length just right, not worried about his pleasure at all.

your cheeks were all rosy and one of simon’s hands stayed firmly planted on your soft bump.

he made damn sure you came at least three times around him.

“that’s it, mama, such a good girl for me. you’re gonna have my baby, yeah? want me to get you pregnant all over again?”

you felt so loose and warm as he corralled you into the shower, making sure you were nice and clean before he wrapped you in your fuzzy robe and plopped you on the couch.

“curry will be done soon. hope you’re hungry.”

you went into labor the next morning.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat

construction worker!rafe spends his days ‘lifting heavy stuff and building shit’ and is always showing up to the small cafe shy!reader works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...

c/w: rafe being flirty, her having the biggest crush on him, suggestive, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1k

hope you enjoy xx

series masterlist

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

Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe’s eyes settle on her soft form, the edges of his mouth tilt up— offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day.  

His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.   

And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her; asking what she’s doing after her shift with a slow drawl.  

And while she’s busy answering, he lifts his thumb to her cheek to swipe away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long. “Messy girl,” he’d murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, taunting her.   

Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day when she realizes she’s beginning to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s baked, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.   

And he seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she’s practically forcing him to taste test now because whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first one to try it. And he’s not complaining.   

When he finds out she walks home by herself, even late at night, there’s no other option for him but to insist on driving her home because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.   

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wanna be a bother, m’fine,” she denies him immediately, to which he merely furrows his brows; telling her it wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well— practically demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.   

It becomes a routine for them; him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open with his palm on the small of her back guiding her inside. Whenever he teases her about being his little passenger princess, she practically melts into a puddle on the seat; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably.  

And no matter how many times he’s driven her home, she still feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She doesn’t know why he’s allowed to have such alluring details in the first place; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger and his strawberry lips so inviting.  

Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel while his thumb taps against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or— 

“You, uh, you good, sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.   

“Sorry?” her face burns with embarrassment.  

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”   

“Oh, um— nothing, just, uh, tired and…stuff,” she attempts to sound convincing.  

However, his grin only widens. “Yeah? So, you, uh, you tellin’ me you weren’t just checkin’ me out?” his tone turns into something patronizing.   

“What? I— no, no I was just—”  

“Relax, m’just fuckin’ with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. 

“Asked if you were hungry?” he flits his eyes to hers once more.  

“Uh...yeah, sure. Don’t even remember how long it’s been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to breach the surface.   

“Why don’t you, uh, come over to my place then ‘n I could make you somethin? Jus sayin’...I’m a great cook. Feels unfair that you’re always the one fillin’ up my belly,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.   

After all, he’s not an idiot. He sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention— thinks it’s absolutely adorable how sheepish she gets about it. However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away.  

Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; fuck her dumb until tears trickle down her cheeks and she’s a whimpering mess. He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she’s missing— wants to make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean about it, but most of all just wants to make her his. 

“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head because how is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with those eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles? 

[a11eya]

TITLE: lights will guide you home

CHAPTER: 11

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.

At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.

You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.

(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

TAGS: soulmate au, trope inversion/subversion, slow burn, getting together, falling in love, fluff, aged up characters, pro-hero characters, eventual smut, mild bullying

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

“And you haven’t heard from Bakugou?”

“I haven’t.” Kirishima wrings his hands as you nod and look away, trying to hide your expression. In other circumstances, the sight of such a big man—fiery red hair, sharp teeth, muscles and all—fretting in such a way would’ve been funny. Sweet. But as it is, your worry shadows everything.

The first couple of days after Bakugou falls off the grid, you’re a little annoyed. He couldn’t have spared a minute to reply before leaving? Or at least given you an estimate about when he’d be back? Given you a heads up at all?

But a couple days quickly turn into a week, and you begin to worry. Is this normal? Can you call his agency to ask? Or would that be inappropriate, you butting your head into hero business? 

You don’t know if you’re being irrational or if you’re being overbearing when you and Bakugou are just friends. Unrequited soulmates don’t count. You have no real claim to knowledge regarding his whereabouts, his movements. You’re just friends. 

But friends can worry about their friends. That’s totally normal. So you figure—it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Just one call.

“Hi Aiko. I was just wondering…” You hesitate. “You know how Bakugou—Dynamight is away on a mission right now? Would you happen to know when he’ll be back?”

“I’m sorry.” Even over the phone, her regret comes clear through. “I don’t have high enough clearance to know that info. And even if I did, it’s agency policy not to share that kind of information.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” you tell her, forcing a cheerful tone. You gnaw at your lip, feeling a little lost. What now?

“But I’m sure Red Riot would know!” she says, just as you make up your mind to say your goodbyes and hang up. “Would you like to schedule a meeting with him?”

You immediately perk up.

“Yes, please!” 

Kirishima touches your shoulder. He says, “I think Bakugou’s been instructed to go dark for this mission.”

You look up into his earnest eyes.

“None of our friends have heard from him either,” he tells you. 

“Oh.” The ball of anxiety that’s been sitting on your chest like a weight lightens just a little. So it’s not just you. 

But is that a bad thing? No one’s heard from him?

The weight returns. 

“Is it normal for him to take missions like this?” you ask. “You guys are used to it?”

Kirishima frowns, looking conflicted. “No… These longer missions are usually reconnaissance or stealth missions, and Bakugou’s quirk doesn’t really mix well with them. But there might be other reasons for him to go dark.”

“I see,” you say, gaze falling to the ground as frustration swells in you. 

You’re so clueless about the hero profession. You don’t know what’s normal, how you should be feeling. If the relative calm Kirishima’s exuding is something you should mimic or if the calm’s due to his familiarity with situations like this. And it’s your own fault. Because in the months you’ve spent learning Bakugou, you could’ve asked about all this. About what he does and what’s to be expected. But you didn’t. 

“Look, please don’t worry.” Kirishima ducks his head to look you in the eye. “Bakugou’s really, really good at what we do. He wouldn’t want you to stress over him being gone.”

“Right,” you say, summoning a weak smile. 

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Kirishima promises.

“Thanks Kirishima,” you say. 

“Call me Kiri, if you’re comfortable with it!” he says, grinning. “And send me pics of Mikan and Natsu. Bakugou’s stingy about sharing them.” 

Laughing, you agree. 

You: I finally got Kirishima’s number! Remembered to ask him while stopping by the agency this morning 😌

You send a picture you’d taken—Kirishima grinning in the background with the smoothie you’d gotten him, and you throwing up a peace sign at the camera. 

Smiling a little, you imagine Bakugou’s reaction upon seeing the picture, seeing your message. He has no right calling you squirrely when he’s so weird about you being friendly with Kirishima. You’re not sure, but if you could hazard a guess, you think it’s because he’s uncomfortable with mixing friend groups. Which you can understand—sometimes it just doesn’t work, or it’s awkward to facilitate. But still. 

You admit that it’s fun getting reactions out of Bakugou, that sometimes you do things on purpose. You miss messing with him. 

Your messages finish sending, finally. But just like the other texts you’ve sent over the past few days, there’s no indication that they’ve been delivered. 

Your smile fades. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

Your head jerks up from your phone as you meet your friend’s eyes. Feeling strangely guilty, you set it down on the table in front of you as she settles back into her seat. 

Mitsuru raises an eyebrow at you. “You’ve been glued to that thing today. You expecting  to hear from someone?”

“Kind of,” you say, then make a face. “Or, I guess, not really. I’m not sure.” 

“The most convoluted answer,” she says, snorting. “Here, pick something from the dessert menu while I flag down that server. You can tell me what’s up with you while we eat.”

Sighing, you take the menu from her. 

Mitsuru’s sharp as a tack in general, but she’s also known you since middle school. It’s not often you wish you could hide things from her, but this time might be one of them. 

You haven’t told anyone about reconnecting with Bakugou. Not Mitsuru, or any of your other friends. You hadn’t even noticed you’d kept your friendship with Bakugou to yourself until recently. You’re not sure why. It’s not like you’re actively hiding it. It’s just… how it’s turned out. 

Okay, maybe you’ve been hiding it a little from Mitsuru specifically. But it’s because she knows him from your time at Aldera. She’d witnessed how mean he was to you, had gotten into verbal scuffles with him, defending you, until you’d asked her to stop.

So. You know that she doesn’t have a good impression of Bakugou. Even after all these years, when she sees ads or merch of him, she rolls her eyes. 

But you do want to talk to someone about it, about him, if only to get some objectivity about your worry. And Mitsuru, with her frank, realistic outlook on the world, is perfect for the job. 

So you tell her about it—an abbreviated, edited version of it. About this friend you’d gotten to know over the past couple months. The “business trip” he’d gone on with little notice and no heads up about when he’d be back. That’s you’re worried because you haven’t heard from him. 

Hiding details—that it’s Bakugou, that the trip is a hero mission—makes you shift in your seat, a stone in your stomach. But you’re scared of what Mitsuru would say. What she’d think if she knew. She’d only ever seen the cruel child he’d been. 

Mitsuru gives you a look when you finally fall silent. She plays with her nails, painted to look like glass, haloed like cat’s eyes, then lifts a hand to wrap a strand of black hair around her finger. 

“This friend of yours,” she says. “It’s Dynamight, isn’t it.” 

Your eyes widen. You choke on the water you’d been sipping. 

“What? Why would you—”

Mitsuru watches as you stumble over your words, mind racing as you try to figure out what to say. She sighs. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to confirm anything if it’ll get you into trouble or something. But I’ve had my suspicions since I saw those promotional pics he took with those kittens. They’re the ones you’re fostering, right?”

Fuck. You should’ve thought of that. Mitsuru was the first to meet them, all those months ago.

“And then there was that noise on social media about Dynamight at that fancy pet store you were excited to try out a couple months back. Don’t think I wouldn’t recognize the back of your little head,” Mitsuru says, eyes narrowed at you. 

You stare at her for a long moment, scrambling for things to say to deny it. She’s cool, eyes steady.

You cover your face with a hand. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” you say, letting your hand fall, and she scoffs. 

“Who do you think I am,” she says. 

“You’re the only one I’ve told about him.” 

Mitsuru raises a brow. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I appreciate you confiding in me, I do, but… I remember that little shit did to you when we were in junior high. What the hell are you thinking?”

You wince. “I know how it sounds. But he really has changed, Mitsuru. He’s not that little kid anymore. That bully. People grow up.”

Mitsuru’s mouth remains downturned, eyes distrustful. 

“We really did meet months ago,” you say. “And within the first five minutes of conversation, he apologized. I wasn’t ready for it then, but… But since then, we’ve spent time together. Gotten to know each other. And he’s only ever been kind to me.” 

You find that your words catch in your throat, an unexpected wave of emotion flowing through you. Fiddling with your fingers, you say quietly, “We’re friends now.”

You raise your eyes to meet Mitsuru’s. 

Her expression has changed, softened a little. She reaches over and rubs your arm up and down briskly.

“Hey,” she says. “You don’t have to justify anything or feel any type of way about being friends with him given your history. I trust your judgement. I’m just worried, is all.”

“I get it,” you say. “He really was an asshole as a kid. But he’s a better person now. Promise.” 

You feel your words with a certainty you didn’t have months ago. The Bakugou you know, who cares deeply for his friends, who’s always honest, who admits his mistakes, who puts so much effort and care into his job, helping people, protecting people—he’s a good person. One of the best people in your life. 

Mitsuru leans back into her chair. She inhales deeply, exhales. She says, “Just one more thing. I… I know you say he’s your soulmate, that you can see his lights—”

Your breath catches. You know she doesn’t mean anything by it. But her doubt hurts. It echoes yours, feeds into an insecurity that’s only just tempered by the reassuring flicker of orange and gold when you see Bakugou.  

“—but I remember how unkind he was when he told you it’s not a mutual thing. I don’t know if you’ve already resolved that with him, but… I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I know.” You tap your foot against hers under the table. “Thank you. Really. And we… haven’t talked about it yet. It hasn’t come up.” 

“Why not?”

You shrug, looking away. Prickles of discomfort race up and down your arms. You should talk about it. But. What if it changes things between you? 

Mitsuru studies you for a long moment, then sighs. “All right. All right. But as your friend, I reserve the right to yell at him the second he fucks up. Just letting you know.” 

You snort, tension releasing. “Yes, yes.”

“And you gotta introduce us. Re-introduce us.” 

“I will!” 

Mitsuru reaches over and pinches you in the arm. You whine.

She grins. “Okay, now tell me how the cats got tangled up in being promotional material for Super Explosion Guy blah blah blah. I can be nosy now that you’ve said something.”

You laugh. “His hero name is one of the funniest things about him, isn’t it? So it started because of that pet shop…”

Natsu, your sweet girl, is finally adopted. The paperwork is finalized, Bakugou’s PR people and the foster organization wrap up all loose ends, and you say goodbye. 

It’s quieter, once she’s gone. Lonelier. She was never a noisy cat, but she would always curl up in your lap whenever you’d read or watch something on the couch. Make biscuits on you when you’d drape a blanket over your legs. She was the cuddliest of the three. 

Mikan’s lost both his playmates, and you try to make up for it with extra play time and mental stimulation via things like treat puzzles. You’re glad you still have him. You don’t know what you’ll do when he leaves you too. He’s so big now. 

To distract yourself, you sign up for a cooking class. It’s just one lesson, two and a half hours. You want to feel out the chef instructor, the vibes of doing something like this, before investing in other packages where more lessons are offered over the course of several weeks. 

It’s surprisingly really fun. You’d gone in worried about your knife skills, about keeping up with the instructor. But you shouldn’t have because everyone is super nice and encouraging. The instructor is attentive, patient. And what you make ends up being surprisingly delicious. 

Mitsuru comes over for dinner the next night and you prepare it for her. It’s a hit. 

“How’s pilates been?” you ask, and Mitsuru groans, reclining further into the couch and patting her belly.

“A nightmare,” she says. “I didn’t think it’d be so tough. You’d think two decades of playing sports and generally being active would help. It does in some ways, but not really. You know, I got the shakes yesterday? We were doing an exercise on the reformer and my leg kept shaking, like I had no control over it. It was so embarrassing, jeez. I was at the front of the room, too.” 

You laugh, imagining it, then shake your head. “If you think it’s hard, there’s no hope for me.”

She turns her head to look at you, eyes brightening. “Are you interested? Forget everything I said. It’s amazing. Life-changing. So fun. Easy, even. Come join.” 

Laughing, you push her away as she smacks your leg in enthusiasm. 

“Have you tried pilates?” you ask Kirishima as he finishes taking a big sip of the smoothie you’d gotten him. He’s just wrapped up a workout, and you’re visiting on your lunch break. 

“No,” he says, tilting his head. “My friend Mina does classes at a studio, though, if you’re interested.” 

“I’m definitely not,” you say. You give him a quick rundown of the conversation you had with Mitsuru, adding, “It just got me thinking about maybe joining a gym or picking up something easy I can do consistently. When I moved to this neighborhood two years ago, I canceled my old membership because of the distance. But with how much I’m chained to my desk at work, I figure I should find a new gym.” 

“If you’re down, I can get you started with a couple workouts here at our agency’s gym until you find something you like,” Kirishima tells you. “I know some gyms in this area, so if you want, I’d be happy to help you look, too!” 

You smile up at him. 

“That’d be great, Kiri, thank you! You sure helping me with workouts won’t interfere with your schedule?” 

“We’ll work it out, don’t worry.” He grins at you, giving you a look as if to say, Did you catch that? Did you get it? 

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m going to ignore that. That’s terrible.” 

“Aww.” Kirishima ducks his head. 

You shake yours. “But really, thank you. For the gym stuff and just for being so nice in general.” 

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we? Always happy to help a friend.” 

You smile. You open your mouth, then hesitate.

You like Kirishima, think you can become even better friends with time. Still, you’re conscious that you haven’t known him long. That the topics of your conversations have been everyday, casual ones.

But lately, certain heavier thoughts have been plaguing you. Despite keeping busy at work, indulging your interests, investing in your other relationships, you can’t stop thinking about Bakugou. It’s been two weeks now. 

Before, Bakugou being a pro hero meant that every once in a while you’d see him on the news if a villain altercation was serious enough to get covered. It meant seeing him in uniform on the streets during patrol, discreetly waving at him as you passed by on your way to and from work. 

Now it means struggling with not knowing where he is, when he’ll be back, if he’s safe. When you’ll see him again and if he’s okay.

How do heroes, especially ones who grow up together as classmates like those attending UA or Shiketsu, handle all these feelings? How do their—their friends, their families, and their partners manage the fear and uncertainty? 

You know you’re not doing a good job of it.

Looking up into Kirishima’s friendly face, those bright eyes and comforting smile, you take a little leap. 

“Can I ask you a question? A kind of serious one.” 

“Anything!” Kirishima says. He gestures for you to sit on a nearby bench, taking a seat next to you after you’re settled. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

You take a deep breath and decide to just go for it. 

“How do you deal with it? The worry, the… all these terrible feelings when your friends are risking their lives fighting people or going off on these long missions?” You have to stop yourself there, worried that if you keep going, you won’t be able to stop; all of these feelings you’ve been grappling with will just come rushing out. 

Kirishima’s gaze softens, understanding. His mouth sets into a thoughtful line as he considers your question. 

“It never stops being tough,” he says slowly. “Simple patrols can turn into fights, or chases, or rescues all the time. Other heroes with more specialized quirks and jobs can be put into even more danger than us regular heroes, depending. I went to school with people who told us the risks, and we faced them. Even earlier than we should’ve.”  

For a moment, the planes of his face fall into a weariness, a seriousness you’d never seen on him before. That lovely light in his eyes dims, just a little. 

He meets your gaze. “And we still stayed on with the job. For lots of us, helping people, keeping people safe, it’s worth all of it. But for our family, partners, who’re civilians, it’s hard.” 

“So it never gets easy? You just have to live with it?” you ask quietly, that burden settling heavy in your heart.

“I don’t know about easy. But. For me, uh. I don’t know if this’ll be helpful at all, but, um, I try to stay in the present. I used to always be thinking about what ifs or things that hadn’t happened—yet, I thought, and worked myself up. Still do sometimes. But one of my former teachers told me that that’s no way to live your life. Miss out on so much doing that.”

You can relate.

Kirishima tilts his head, thinking for a moment. 

“Oh! And of course there are, like, mental health professionals and support groups I can connect you to. If you want! Lots of heroes see someone regularly, and so do their family members or partners,” he says. 

“I’d like that,” you tell him. 

He smiles at you, reaches out to pat your hand. “Talking about it helps. Having community helps me most, personally. Friends who have my back, family who care. So. If you need someone. I’m always here, okay? I got you.”

An open hand, so readily offered. 

A little lump rises in your throat. These people you’ve met—Bakugou, Kiri, Pulsar, Shieldmaiden—really are heroes. They’re such good people. 

“Thanks, Kiri,” you say with a wobbly smile. 

The days continue to pass, and you try to stay balanced, focused. Some days you succeed, and others you don’t. 

A new restaurant near your work opens up, specializing in your favorite cuisine, and you and a coworker head out to try it. 

You’re waiting for the light to change for the crossing, chatting with your coworker, when a flicker of orange catches your eye. 

You raise your head, your coworker’s voice receding into the background as you slowly scan the streets for what’d caught your attention. 

There. That orange and gold is unmistakable. Your breath catches. 

“Bakugou,” you say, and—his name feels like it’s ripped out of you, a compulsion. The vowels and consonants are lost to the bustle of city life, but his name remains, a question on your tongue. 

You nearly start forward, stepping into the street, before remembering yourself. It’s so hard to resist the urge to run after him, cars be damned, what your coworker would think be damned. But you hold yourself still, tense. Eyes locked on the man walking further and further away from you.

It’s him, right? If he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, you’d be able to tell for sure by his hair, his build. But the hoodie obscures the lines of his body. This far away, you can no longer make out any flashes of orange and gold.

The wait for this pedestrian crossing is so fucking long. You’re going to file a complaint to—to someone, to whomever is in charge of this shit. Fuck. 

Biting your lip, you watch as his figure disappears around the corner. 

“What’d you say?” your coworker asks, jostling you. 

You blink, feeling a little out of body, dazed. Your coworker peers into your face, concerned. 

“You good?” 

“I—yeah. I’m fine.” Forget about lunch. You need to check your phone. 

But before you can do so, your coworker grabs your elbow, propelling you forward. “Hey, the light’s changing, c’mon.”

Maybe you imagined it. Maybe it wasn’t him. 

The second you got the chance, you checked your phone. But there were no messages from Bakugou waiting for you, none from Kiri. Just a couple from Mitsuru, one from your mom, another from a coworker asking you to pick something up from the restaurant for them. 

Maybe you’re losing it.

You sigh, stroking down the length of Mikan’s back, eyes watching but not perceiving the show you’d put on. 

He’d text you if he were back in town, right? Kiri would give you a heads up. So it was your wishful thinking earlier, your imagination. 

You miss him. It’s been almost three weeks. You’ve thought about reaching out to the groups Kiri recommended to you, but you always chicken out at the last minute, phone in hand, number undialed. 

Kiri’d said that heroes’ family or partners go to these things. He hadn’t mentioned friends. Would it be weird to show up just as a hero’s friend? Would telling them he’s your soulmate help justify it? 

But no, because. What would you even say? Hi, I’m a hero’s friend. Yeah, just friends. Well, no, technically he’s also my soulmate. What do I mean by technically? Well, he’s mine but I’m not his. So yeah. 

Even the thought of admitting that to strangers makes you nauseous. 

And what if you slip and say his name? You don’t want people to know you’re talking about Bakugou. You’re not sure you’re allowed to say he’s on a mission. You’re still not sure you want people outside your personal lives aware that you know each other, are friends. 

You pick Mikan up, lifting him to eye level, and bury your face in his side. That nice cat smell envelops you for a nice moment. 

He squirms out of your grip, jumping to the floor. Giving you a look, he begins washing his fur with his tongue. 

You slump into the couch, defeated.

Bright and early, the next morning finds you at the agency in workout clothes. 

All night, you’d tossed and turned, mind busy. You’d fallen into a fitful sleep around 2 AM, only to wake up again around 5 AM. At that point, you gave up and decided that maybe if you tired your body out, your mind would shut up and let you rest. At the very least, you’re grateful it’s a Saturday and you don’t have to come in to work. 

Flashing a quick smile and wave to the front desk, you use your access card to head up to the gym. The halls are quiet, and the few people using the gym are people you don’t know. 

You slip on some headphones and get to work. 

Truthfully, you shouldn’t be mooching off Kiri’s—and Bakugou’s—generosity. But you’ve really enjoyed the workouts you’ve had with Kiri this past week. He designed a workout routine for you and demonstrated the exercises you’ve been doing. He’s encouraging, and he knows just how far to push you. He really has a way with people. It’s made you less motivated to seek out your own gym. You’ve been spoiled. 

You’ll look into the gyms Kiri recommended later today, you resolve. After a nap. The workout’s done its job. You clean up the machine you’d been using and head out. 

You’re mid-yawn, eyes squinted and watering, so you don’t catch that someone’s trying to enter the gym at the same time as you’re exiting until it’s too late. 

“Oh, sorry,” you say, quickly wiping at your eyes, embarrassed. When they’re clear, you look up, then freeze. 

“Bakugou!” 

Bakugou grunts. Says your name in greeting. His eyes quickly scan you up and down before coming to rest on your face. 

You’re warm, very aware that you’re still a little sweaty. You hope you don’t smell. You want to hug him so badly, but you’re too nervous. You’re self-conscious, shy. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. 

He looks tired, eyes weary. His hair’s grown out a little, longer than you’re used to seeing on him. A bandage rests right below his scar, stark against his skin. 

The little details don’t matter. You’re so happy to see him. You’re smiling, not realizing it. 

When Bakugou doesn’t say anything more, you ask, “When did you get back?”

He hesitates for a second, looks at the wall next to you, then back at you. 

“A couple days ago,” he says shortly. 

You pause. 

“A couple days ago?” you repeat. A feeling you can’t quite name begins to creep up the back of your neck. It’s not a nice feeling. “Oh. Did you, I mean, were there a lot of post-mission things you needed to do?”

“Yeah. A bunch of annoying bullshit.” 

You make a sympathetic sound. There, you tell yourself silently. He had reasons for not giving you a heads up that he’s been back. The world doesn’t revolve around you. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. 

The gym’s doors open behind you as someone exits, and Bakugou puts a hand on the small of your back, pulling you to the side and out of the way. 

His hand on your back, even through your clothes, is warm. 

It takes you a second to reply. “Kiri said it’d be okay if I use the agency’s gyms until I find my own. I hope that’s okay.”

“S’fine,” he says. 

His hand’s still on your back. He’s standing so close to you, just looking at you. At your face, darting down your body, as if committing you to memory. As if it’s something you won’t notice. You don’t mind at all. You can’t take your eyes off him either. 

But—

“I—sorry, I gotta ask, it’s bothering me,” you say. “I hear that you’ve been busy, but. A quick, ‘Hey I’m back, I’m fine’ message would’ve been appreciated, y’know? If you were allowed. Was it that you weren’t allowed to tell non-heroes that you’re back?”

Bakugou’s hand falls away from you. He exhales deeply and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“No. Just didn’t have time to talk to you.”

Something sharp and unpleasant rises as a slow wave in you. You remind yourself that busy is busy, and some things aren’t in his control. 

But—it’s been days. If it really was him you saw the other day, out in the city, it’s been at least four days. And it looks like he was heading into the gym before you bumped into him.

Frowning, you shift your gym bag to your other hand, bowing your head. “Bakugou. You were gone a long time, and I had no idea what was happening with you. I feel like you could’ve shot me a quick message.”

“I told you I was gonna be on a mission,” he says, furrowing his brows. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t say when you’d be back, or if it’d be dangerous, or anything except just that,” you say, voice rising a little at the end. 

Inhaling deeply, you force yourself to breathe, speak normally. “Neither Kiri nor the agency could tell me anything. It sucked, Bakugou. I just wanna know what’s going on.” 

Bakugou scowls. 

“Look, I told you I’ve been busy,” he says. “I just got back, give me a fucking second. And I can’t always tell you shit just because it’s inconvenient for you not to know.”

The gym doors open once more, another person leaving, and you become hyper aware that you’re having this conversation in public. Suddenly, you don’t want to be having this conversation anymore. 

“You’re right,” you say evenly. “Sorry for overstepping. I’ll let you get to your workout.”

You move to get past him, and he steps in front of you. You stop just short of touching, your hands tightening into fists. The strap of your bag digs into the meat of your hand.

“Fuck,” Bakugou says. “You’re not getting it. Stop taking shit personally. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

You look at him. Shaking your head, you say, “You know what? I’m done here. Bye.”

“We’re not done with shit,” Bakugou says.

“Well I’m done, so back off.”

“Not until—”

“Look, Bakugou,” you say, voice trembling. Shit. You don’t want him to think you’re crying, because you’re not. You’re just so mad. “I’m really fucking upset right now. And the shit you’re saying’s just making things worse. Let’s table this. Let me go.”

He stares at you for a long moment. You stare back at him defiantly. 

“Fine,” he growls.

“Great,” you say. 

You turn on your heel and leave.

Your mind is empty the entire train ride home. 

Distantly, you recognize that your back and neck ache from the tension you’re carrying, but it’s impossible to relax. You feel a little separate from your body, like you’re watching yourself move through the actions of getting off at your stop and walking back to your apartment. 

Once you’re home, you throw yourself into a hot shower, hoping to jar yourself out of the mood you’re in. But even after it, you’re still tense, still aching. 

You try to take a nap. But your body only remembers conflict; the normally satisfying ache and tiredness post-workout is nowhere to be found. You’re wide awake. 

The anger rears its head once more. Why doesn’t he get it? That you were worried, that you wanted him to communicate as much as he could, as soon as he could. 

You understand that he can’t tell you certain things because of the nature of his work. You just want him to think of you, of how you’d feel, of how you felt. 

Then it’s like a switch flipping, and you’re just. Sad. What a dumb thing to argue over. Such a small thing. Did you overreact? Did you mess things up because you’re overthinking things?

But how would he feel, if you did the same thing to him? Just—fucked off to some place without telling him where or when you’d be back? And when you did get back, not let him know until it’s been days? 

Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe it’s that you care too much, too much to be right for the relationship you have with him. 

Sleep finds you, eventually. You’re grateful.

Author's Note: And... I'm terrible! Awful! First I left ya'll with a cliffhanger with chapter 10, and now I show up nearly a year later with this angsty chapter... Feel free to yell at me in the replies, I deserve it. 😔

But thank you to all of you who've liked, reblogged, and commented on chapters of this fic since last update! And sent in asks wondering if I'm ever going to update again!! LOL! Knowing that people are still reading and care to know the end of Bakugou and Reader's story motivates me to keep writing. 💖

I do have about 2K of chapter 12 written... Hoping to post that soon, and not after a year has passed lmao. 😅

Alrighty, take care everyone! Hugs and kisses!!!

[moonstruckme]

I'm getting an iud and I'm so so nervous!! I have a super low pain tolerance! Would u be willing to write a fic about reader having to get a procedure done (can be general so more people can relate) and just one of the mauraders being there for her? Like May be she tries to not tell him bc she doesn't want to burden him but he finds out and is shocked and then offers to drive her home after?

tots projecting bc I'm gonna have Uber home and I wish I had a sweet bf driving me

Good for you babe! I hope it's not as scary as you think, thanks for requesting <3 I made this fwb Sirius because I thought it'd be fun, hope you don't mind

cw: vague mention of medical procedure, suggestive/mature content but no smut

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 837 words

You pull your shirt on, nerves once again tingling in your fingertips. It’s been on and off all day, the anxiety as you remember the appointment you have scheduled later this week. Sex with Sirius was only a temporary, if pleasant, reprieve. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling you from your thoughts. He’s opening a pack of cigarettes. “Want me to open the window?” 

You nod, hugging your knees to your chest. “Please.” 

Sirius reaches back to unlatch the window by your bed. He looks the polar opposite of you, all stretched out and languid, seemingly having no inclination to cover up whereas you can’t wait more than a couple minutes after sex before putting your clothes back on. Sirius tends to like to cuddle, chatting with you while he maps idle paths over your body with his touch, but you need layers between you; it’s too difficult to keep the lines from blurring, otherwise. 

He lights his cig, letting his head loll off the bed as he breathes in before exhaling in the direction of your window. You wish he wouldn’t smoke at all, but you appreciate how considerate he is about it. He’s not offered to share his pack with you since the first time you refused, and he always does it outside or out the window, depending on the weather. Now, the air coming inside is cool and muggy, enough to have Sirius reaching for the corner of your sheets and tossing them over himself lazily.

“Can I ask you something?” you say, fingers twiddling in front of your tented legs. “You can say no.” 

Sirius’ head tilts up. “When have I ever said no to you?” It’s a question not meant to be answered, so you don’t. “Ask away, gorgeous.” 

You wet your lips. “Do you have anything on Friday?” 

“Mm, this Friday?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I work at three, but nothing before then. Why?” 

“Oh, nevermind then.” You shake your head, guilt and dread intermingling in your gut. You’ll figure something else out. Worst case, you’ll take the bus. It’ll be fine. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Wait, why?” Sirius sits up, twisting sideways so he can prop himself up on an elbow. The sheet falls down his waist. “What’s Friday?” 

“I’m just…” You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant but no doubt failing miserably. “I have an appointment then, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

“An appointment.” His brow furrows. “Like, the one you talked about making? You’re doing that?” 

“Yeah…” Your voice has gone a bit quiet, nerves and awkwardness shrinking you. 

Sirius shakes his head, appalled. “What, and you just weren’t gonna tell me? Who’s driving you?” 

“Um.” You find yourself looking at the wall beside his shoulder. “I’m not sure yet.” 

“Bollocks. You were going to ask me, weren’t you?” 

Your silence speaks for you. Sirius makes a noise that’s half laugh, half sigh. “Sweetheart,” he stubs his cigarette on the windowsill, sitting up, “I can take off work for that. When is it?” 

“It’s during your shift,” you say, guiltily. “You really don’t have to.” 

He waves you off. “It’s fine, I can get someone to cover for me.” 

You sag a bit with relief. “Thanks, Sirius. If you could meet me around half past four, it should be done by then—” 

“What?” Sirius’ face screws up as though you’ve said something offensive. “No, when does it start? When’s the appointment for?” 

You must look startled, because his expression gentles. 

“Look, babe, I don’t have to sit in there and hold your hand if you don’t want me to, but I can at least drive you there and wait for you to be done. Please, I don’t like the idea of you going alone.” 

“Okay,” you say hesitantly. The idea of having him to hold your hand really doesn’t sound so awful. “It's at three.” 

“Brilliant.” Sirius’ smile blooms at having gotten what he wanted, jovial once more. “Are you nervous?” 

“Yeah,” you admit, still quietly. You’re feeling somewhat more comfortable now that the awkwardness of asking favors has passed, but your general nerves are still there. Sirius seems to pick up on this, leaning forward to clasp both hands around your ankles and drawing circles with his thumbs. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says surely. “We’ll have a pep talk on the way if you need one, and I’ll be there afterwards for whatever you need. You won’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the night.” 

You lift your eyebrows at him. “Are you planning on staying over?” 

He scoffs. “Obviously. Not with any ulterior motives, of course—though I’m never opposed, you know—but someone ought to keep an eye on you. Make sure nothing changes overnight.” 

You’re relaxing some, now, your hands untangling to rest on either side of you on the bed. Sirius’ thumbs continue their diligent soothing of your ankles. 

“It’s not as serious as that, really,” you try to mollify him. “I should be fine soon after.” 

“Mm, nevertheless. I think I’ll stay just in case.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[karalovesallthegirls]

Kara has always dreaded the day she’d meet her soulmate. 

There’s relief in knowing she has one, of course. The person meant for her didn’t die with Krypton. That’s something! Even still, it’s hard to feel excited for the moment they meet, because that’s the moment Kara will hurt them. She’s had their exclamation of pain inked into her skin for as long as she’s been on Earth. In some ways it’s better. Most people have phrases like “good morning” or “hold the door please” as their soulmate’s first words. They have to endure hundreds of almosts, breath held just in case that stranger really is the one. Kara won’t have to do that. Her words are far too distinct.

It's agony, thinking about how their meeting will go. She spends years imagining every possible scenario, each one more painful than the last, yet the day it happens she barely even registers it. The words wash right over her, drowned out by the loud crack as her hand makes sudden contact with a stranger's face. The telltale crunch of contact shocks her. She hadn't registered anyone was there during her dramatic retelling, otherwise she would have kept her gestures small. She wouldn't have flung her hand out with such force.

The woman she's hit is hunched over, clutching at her face. She gasped loud and sharp when it hit, and now she's just wheezily breathing in shock. Kara can see blood starting to drip down her wrist.

“Did you," the woman gasps, and her voice sounds wet. "Did you just break my nose?” Kara wants to die.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

People are looking at them and the woman keeps cursing under her breath and Kara really, really doesn’t know what to do. Her hands hover uselessly over the hunched figure, desperate to soothe but scared to touch in a moment like this. “I didn’t mean to – I was telling a story and I got too excited with my hands I guess, I didn’t see you there. Are you- can I-”

She looks to Alex for guidance, but she’s just staring at the interaction with a wide-eyed wonder. Typically her sister knows what to do in a scary situation, but now she’s looking just as clueless. They’re both barely awake at this point – it’s six in the morning and they’ve been at this airport terminal since midnight, miserably watching their red eye flight push into a mid-day departure. They’re both half-delirious, which is fun when you’re goofing off but less so when you’ve just broken a stranger’s nose. 

And then it hits her. The words she’s carried on her arm for so many years are tingling, she realizes, and they’ve been tingling from the second her skin met the girl’s. 

Did you did you just break my nose?

“Oh wow,” Kara says, dumbfounded. “It’s you.” The woman falls silent. She must be realizing too Kara thinks as she fumbles with her sleeve, pushing it up enough to show her inked arm. The woman's eyes drop to the tattoo that's brought such shame to Kara for so long. She feels her eyes like a touch. “I – I’m so happy to meet you! I’m so sorry it happened like this.” She laughs and it sounds strained. Her hands are shaking. The woman doesn't look up from her arm.

Even hunched over in pain, it's clear the woman is beautiful. Important, even, considering how she's dressed. She's dressed like she's en route to lead a business conference, her tight black skirt and matching blazer scream business professional. Though the effects are tampered a bit by the splattering of blood that’s dripped down her white blouse. Kara wonders how old she is to be dressed like that. She must be older to look like that. At nearly nineteen, Kara has never had anything more than a graduation to dress nicely for, and even then she wore her stained dress pants. This woman - her soulmate - must be much older than her, which feels strange to think. She looks Kara's age, maybe even younger. If not for how clearly tailored to her body her clothes are, she'd almost look like she was playing dress up.

Kara feels self-conscious then, sharply aware of how she must look to her soulmate. As smart as it felt to come to the airport in pajamas for her all-night flight, standing in rubber duck pajama pants while trying to have a conversation with her goddess of a soulmate did little for Kara's confidence.

When Kara’s eyes finally track back up to her face, she finds sharp green ones staring back. They're the prettiest eyes she's ever seen, and they don't seem interested in looking away. That's fine with her - she's more than content to stare right back.

It's only the soft plop of blood hitting tile that draws her attention back to her crime, and she can see the way the woman's hands have become covered in blood. "Oh gosh, here - let me…”  Kara fumbles in her backpack for a moment with no clear plan. All she knows is she has to do something to fix this. She fumbles about before pulling out a clean t-shirt. “Here. For the-” She holds it out to the girl and gestures at her own face. Slowly, like she’s scared Kara might grab her or something, the woman takes the offered shirt. She wipes the blood from her face and hands, dabbing beneath her nose. The bleeding seems to have stopped, at least, and the shirt helps contain what's escaped. Watching a stranger wipe blood on her high school band t-shirt shouldn’t thrill Kara as much as it does, and yet.

Kara laughs again, the sound nervous and high-pitched, before taking a step towards her. Her soulmate’s eyes go wide, tracking her movements, and Kara's heart clenches when she steps away. The rapid race of her soulmate's heart beats into Kara's ear - she can literally hear her fear. She holds her hands up in surrender, stepping back to where she’d been before. The last thing she wants is for her to be afraid. “Does it hurt?” she asks, and her soulmate shakes her head no. “That’s good. That’s good. I- uh." She has nothing more to say, and her soulmate's certainly not contributing. Kara’s palms are sweating. She hasn’t sweat since she was thirteen, but one look from this person has her rubbing her hands on her pajama pants like a middle schooler at a dance.

The woman finishes wiping up and lets her arms fall, blessing Kara with her first real look at her face. Bloodied and skittish, she’s beautiful in a way Kara can hardly comprehend, in a way she could never imagine. Kara's pretty sure she's blushing now for some reason, and she has to flex her toes to be sure she’s still touching the ground. “My name’s Kara,” she says, and then gestures over her shoulder. “That’s my sister Alex. We’re flying home for winter break. Midvale - Midvale is home for us. Where- where are you flying to?”

The woman stares and stares, and Kara's starting to panic thinking she'd given her soulmate a head injury that's muted her somehow, when at last the woman speaks just barely above a whisper.

“Home,” she says. It feels like her heart might burst just from hearing that one stilted word. Kara wants to hear a thousand more, wants to hear nothing else for the rest of her life.

“That’s awesome. W-where’s home for you?” The woman's lip trembles as she opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again.

 “I’m sorry,” she says, and then throws the t-shirt at Kara’s face. 

Kara fumbles catching it, distracted by the shock and gross factor of having a blood-soaked shirt hurled at her face, and it takes her far too many precious seconds to realize her soulmate is gone. Bewildered, Kara looks around before just catching sight of her vanishing around the corner, high heels and racing heart clattering away. She looks at Alex. Alex waves at her, frantic. “Go!” Alex yells, and Kara takes off.

Pretending to be a human has never been harder than it is while chasing after her soulmate. Normal human pace - especially what's acceptable at an airport - is not fast enough for this, not when the woman has already gotten so far ahead. Kara must look ridiculous, bursting into sprints only to trip suddenly into a walk over and over again, her ears locked on to the thudding heartbeat and faint whispers of her soulmate mumbling, “crap crap crap crap,” ahead.

Kara’s thankful they’re in an airport, at least. Her soulmate can’t just run outside, and Kara is fine embracing the romcom trope of following her love onto the plane. Her soulmate stops moving ahead and Kara speeds up, nearly wiping out twice tripping over luggage and small children. Her heart is in her throat as she clears the corner her soulmate is behind and pushes her way into the door she's passed through. All the wind knocks out of her lungs then when she sees her again. The woman looks up at her in shock, as if she didn't think Kara would chase her. As if Kara would just let her go. With a visible gulp, her soulmate flees around a corner and disappears out of sight. Kara manages a single step forward before a body blocks her way, and she looks up to see a massive security guard staring down at her.

“Membership card, please.”

Kara tries to peer around him. He steps in her way, cutting her vision off. Her soulmate led her into some private place you can't just walk into, she realizes, glancing around at the sleek appearance and exclusive atmosphere. “I- uh, left my card in my other bag,” she says, gesturing back over her shoulder. She can hear her soulmate’s breathing and it's all she can focus on. She’s right there. Just out of sight. Kara is so close. “I’m afraid you need your card to enter the fly lounge,” he says sternly. He starts pushing gently at her, trying to nudge her back out of the sliding glass door she’s come in. Kara almost forgets to let him move her. “I- I’m sorry, someone I need to talk to just went in there and I-” She stops in the doorway, hand firm on the wall. She can hear the way the guard huffs against her solid pressure. She’s not acting very human right now and she knows it.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, ma’am," he says, pushing more forcefully against her. Forceful enough that she knows she has to move even as all her instincts war against it. “Can- can I buy a membership? Like a day pass or something?”

The guard looks over at the front desk, making eye contact with a woman who looks like she would rather watch Kara be flayed alive than allowed another step inside.

“A day membership is $189 plus tax,” she whines out in a nasally voice, tone making clear she already knows Kara won’t be affording that. Which is accurate. Kara barely has enough to buy a meal. 

Looks like her soulmate is rich, then.

The man nudges her back again and a flash of panic echoes through her chest. For a moment, she envisions herself throwing him out the open door, tossing aside anything or anyone that tries to keep her from her future. But she’s already scared her soulmate enough for one day, so she smiles with forced bashfulness and allows herself to be walked back out of the lounge.

The frosted glass door marked High Flyers Club Lounge shuts her out mockingly. But it’s fine! Eventually her soulmate’s flight time will be here and she’ll have no choice but to come out and face her. Kara just has to be patient. (Kara hates being patient.)

She takes a seat against the wall across from the lounge entrance. Her glasses rest low on her nose as she stares her soulmate, soaking in every inch of her as she paces in the luxurious lounge. Her heart is racing, she seems on the edge of a panic attack, and Kara wants desperately to be in there with her talking her down. But she can’t, so she’s left to watch – at least until the girl steps into the private restroom. She stops watching after that. Instead, she settles down to listen to the comforting beat of her soulmate’s heart, closer now than it’s ever been.

Her mind wanders as she waits, mentally reviewing every moment of their interaction. Considering where she failed, where she succeeded. Making lists about what to say to her next. She never got her name, for one thing, and she still doesn’t know where her home is. There’s so much for her to learn.

Her mental meandering is so consuming that it takes her a bit to realize the heartbeat has moved farther away. At first she thinks her soulmate is just moving around the club, but no- she’s moving away from the airport.  A quick glance through walls shows her that her soulmate isn’t in the club anymore. The heartbeat is elevating, she realizes, and Kara runs to the glass wall just in time to see the plane - small, private, with an apparent access point from within the lounge – take off. 

Horror and confusion overwhelm her, bringing tears to her eyes. This doesn't make sense. Why would she just leave without saying a word? Why would her soulmate do that? It's almost unbearable, the pain of it. She doesn’t know how long she stands there, face pressed to the glass, listening as the heartbeat grows quieter and quieter before vanishing all together.

Kara learns a lot about grief after that. 

She knew a lot already – far more than any one person should ever know – but that grief carried a different weight. The loss of her people wasn't a choice by them. They didn't want to die. The loss of her soulmate is its own beast, sharp and cruel in her heart, because this time the person she mourns chose to abandon her. Her soulmate chose to leave. She saw Kara that morning and decided that one look was enough, that Kara wasn't worth any more of her time. She left her there with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a thousand questions. Kara never even learned her name.

She goes through the stages – she feels her anger burning out in her eyes, feels the sorrow take hold. She denies it, she bargains with everyone, anyone. She calls the Flyer’s Club, tries calling the FAA. She tracks flight logs and makes cold calls and still finds nothing at all. She writes about it on soulmate websites and Medium articles, casting a wide net so that someday when – if, her mind reminds her. if if if - her soulmate ever looks she’ll be able to find her.  

Time dulls the sharpness, though, and the years shift that rejected feeling into a more muted anger. Kara doesn't care about the love lost. She doesn't care if the person is her other half. All she cares about is the anger. Finding her feels more like a hunt than a quest for love – she’s got a lot to say to the other woman when they finally meet again. She just wants one more meeting, that’s all. Just enough time to tell her exactly where she can go. Kara doesn’t need a soulmate, after all. Her life is full of love and joy and adventure, and she doesn’t need another person to complete her. She graduates college with a degree in English, minor in Journalism – her attempts to track down her soulmate really ignite the journalistic bug in her, and with Clark’s constant encouragement it feels inevitable. She moves to a big city despite her small-town fears and she gets a job almost no one survives. Kara is thriving.

It almost shocks her, then, the way her heart trips over itself when she sees her again.

They’re watching the trial, her and Alex, and Alex is halfway through a lecture on how she’d always known Lex Luthor was evil by the way he wore his pants – (“Good guys don’t wear their pants that high, Kara, it’s common sense.”) – when Kara's nerves jolt like a lightning bolt has rushed through her. Her gasp is so sharp Alex screams almost in sympathy. 

“What? What is it?” Alex yells at her, looking around for some danger lurking nearby. Kara tumbles to the floor practically crawling to the television screen. Someone new has taken the stand, someone she'd recognize anywhere.

“Alex,” she says, jamming her finger against the somewhat grainy image projected on her television. “It's her.” “What!” “My soulmate!" Kara knows it like she knows herself, even after all this time. She looks different. Six years of struggle sit clear in her hard gaze, her mouth twisted into solemn resignation. She looks almost casual on the stand, sitting comfortably despite the eyes of the world on her. Like it's just a regular conversation. Like she’s not about to help send her brother to prison for life. “Lena Luthor, sister of the defendant” reads the helpful banner beneath her grim face. Even after everything, Kara is struck by her. She's breathtaking. Kara kind of hates her for it. “Hold on, that’s- you barely even saw her when you met! You don’t know for sure.” Alex sounds desperate, which is fair. The younger sister of the man who tried to kill Superman is certainly not an ideal soulmate for someone like Kara, but it doesn't matter. It's her. “I’m sure,” she says, and feels the truth of it deep in her bones.

A giggle hits her then that's so inappropriate for the moment it makes her feel crazy, but she can't help it. As Lena Luthor begins to explain the piles of evidence she’s gathered against her brother, Kara giggles away. She feels almost drunk on it, smug and satisfied. “Found you,” she says, almost like a taunt. She drags her finger over the screen, feeling the static of her ancient television biting back at her as she caresses Lena Luthor's face. The anger that’s long settled inside of her seems to reignite with every charged word Lena speaks against her brother, with every glance she makes at the camera. She can feel Alex’s nervous energy behind her but she doesn’t care. The politics of this, the implications - none of it matters to Kara. What matters is she has a name, and she has a general location. She's so close she can practically taste it. “See you soon, soulmate,” Kara whispers, and for a second it feels almost like Lena is staring right back.

[willowsnook]

Expensive fight (18+)

Can i please request a lil bit of a salami and pulled pork? (Totally all good if it's just the salami one tho) and can i get that with tomato on white bread, pretty please? But also, could we make it mikes way?

lando norris x gf!reader

She isn’t you

I’d be insane not to love you

“She isn’t you,” Lando said exasperated. “I don’t understand why you’re being so insecure about this.”

“It’s fucking insulting for you even to think I am being insecure,” you snapped back at him. You two had been going at it for the past 15 minutes in your shared Monaco apartment. Lando had just gotten back from London and you were pissed about something he had said on one of Max’s streams. 

“Then what’s the issue?” He said firmly and you threw up your hands. 

“The issue is what you said on the fucking stream!” You yelled. “Now I’m being tagged in all this shit about you cheating on me.”

All season long, the internet has been speculating about Lando cheating on you with a well-known influencer. It was comical to you at first, but it got annoying fast, and Lando’s refusal to address it was starting to wear you down. Someone in the chat had asked about it, and Lando's response, “I’m not going to comment on that,” just sent the internet into a flurry. 

“I’ve told you a million times to stop looking at what the internet says,” he said, irritated. 

“You first,” you shot back, and he glared at you. Shoving past him, you stalked into your bedroom, pulling out your small carry-on suitcase. 

“What are you doing?” Lando asked, watching you pull clothes from your drawers and closet and putting them in the case. 

“Leaving. Clearly, I’m not a priority for you right now and that’s fine. So i’m going to get out of you hair for a little bit. Wouldn’t want me bitching at you to be a distraction,” you said sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes. 

“You are overreacting,” he said tightly, not moving to stop you. 

“You don’t even want to know what me overreacting would look like,” you seethed, getting into his face. 

“Fine,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing you his credit card. “I’ll let my pilot know you’re heading to the airport.”

You snatched the card out of his hand and left without another word. 

Lando was not happy about the situation but felt somewhat okay with you leaving, knowing that you had his card and that he would have eyes on you through other people he knew. It had been a rough season for your relationship. You’d been together for 5 years, but you were in the trenches this year. Lando’s stress about the WDC, the online hate, and your inability to go to as many races due to work was taking a toll. You both knew you would get through it, but it was tough right now. 

Honestly, he figured that you’d only be gone for a couple of days. He loved you for your fiery attitude but knew you were a softy at heart and was counting on you breaking first. But the weekend came and went, and you still haven’t returned. He knew you were in NYC, wincing as he saw the list of charges to his card, but he hadn’t heard a peep from you. He’d paid the hotel staff a big sum to alert him every time they saw you coming or going so that he’d at least know you were alive. 

What was kind of amusing about the situation was that fans had spotted you out and about, so now the rumors had even more fuel to them, which was exactly what you didn’t want. You wouldn’t admit that to him, though. 

Lando hopped on to stream with Max, and his friend could immediately tell he was miserable. 

“She’s not back then?” He asked cautiously, and he heard Lando sigh over the mic. 

“Nope,” Lando replied. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Nope.”

“Yikes, man,” Max said, and Lando hummed in agreement. The chat was going crazy, with questions pouring in about y/n being in NYC, and fans now confirming that you two were beefing. 

“Let me just clear the air for everyone,” Lando said into the mic. “Y/n is the love of my life. We have been together since we were 19 and we will be together until we are 90. I have never cheated on her, and I would literally rather cut my dick off than do that.”

“Well said mate,” Max said chuckling. 

“Now everyone, please blow up her social media and beg her to talk to me again,” Lando pleaded, and Max laughed loudly. “especially because I haven’t had a real meal in days.” 

Meanwhile, you had watched the stream replay over lunch and almost gave in and bought a flight back home, especially when your phone actually started blowing up with fans begging for your forgiveness. But you had already told one of your coworkers based in NYC that you’d meet him out for dinner, so the flight would have to wait until tomorrow. 

You spent the day shopping to fill out more of your winter closet. You picked up some clothes for Lando, too, along with a new watch and cologne. You were sure that some people would probably throw a fit knowing that you were charging this all to Lando’s card, but you knew he would prefer it. He made so much money that he would have preferred you quit your job to just hang out with him 24/7, but you loved what you did. 

Putting on a new dress you had bought, you headed out to meet your coworker for dinner. He’d picked a cute little pizza place close to your hotel, and you were excited to see him. He had started around the same time as you and you’d become fast friends despite never seeing each other in person. 

The two of you talked for hours, and you posted a selfie to your Instagram story to capture the moment and slightly hoping it would piss Lando off because you were still feeling crazy. Hugging your coworker goodbye, you hailed a taxi back to your hotel. Walking through the lobby, you did a double take at a man sitting on a sofa near the elevators. 

Lando’s gaze burned into yours, taking in your new dress and how it fit on your body. He had a black duffle bag next to him that he grabbed when he saw you stop. He said nothing as his hand found your lower back, guiding you into the elevator. It stopped on the next floor up, and a lot of people piled in causing him to pull you into him aggressively. His fingers were digging into your hips and you knew he was pissed. So the picture definitely worked. 

You led him to the room and he set his bag down while you sat down on the bed, waiting for him. 

“That’s a nice dress,” he said darkly. “Is it new?”

“Yep,” you said, not backing down from his stare. 

“New earrings?”

“Yep.” 

“I’m sure that guy on your story loved them,” he said and you smirked. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“Jealous baby?” you mocked and he was in front of you in an instant, gripping your jaw hard as he forced you to look at him. 

“I should fuck this brattiness out of you,” he growled. 

“What’s stopping you?” You purred and he snapped. 

“Knees,” he demanded, pulling you off the bed. His pants and boxers were already down by the time you were ready and you smirked up at him. 

“Needy for me?” He responded by shoving himself into your mouth, groaning as he hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. His hands found the side of your head to get a better grip and he thrust in and out of your mouth with no care for how you were doing as he aimed to punish you. Tears were leaking down your face as he shoved all the way in, holding himself there until you coughed out. Gasping for air, he smirked down at you while wiping the spit that was drooling off of your chin. 

“Not so talkative now,” he cooed, and you found the energy to glare at him. He reached down to scoop you up before putting you on the bed, facing the mirror on the opposite wall. He pulled you up to your hands and knees and wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back to look ahead. 

“Now you’re going to watch me fuck the attitude out of you, okay baby?”

You nodded, looking at your tear-stained face looking back at you. Normally, you would complain about him not going down on you, but the way he was acting right now had you soaking wet. 

“I need you Lando,” you whined, and he grinned at you in the mirror. 

“As you wish,” he replied before pushing all the way in and moving quickly in and out, not allowing you to adjust. His hand was still wrapped around your hair and you were having a hard time staying upright as he pounded into you. 

Lando let go of your hair and you collapsed forward, breathing heavily into the comforter on the bed. His hand found your clit and you whimpered at the sensation of that plus him moving inside of you. 

“Feel good baby?” He rasped and you whimpered in response. “My little whore, thinking she could run away from me.”

You moaned out at his words, your first orgasm quickly washing over you without warning. Lando cursed as you clenched around him and let you ride it out before pulling out. He dragged you to the other side of the bed, laying you on your back so that you could look at him. 

His dick found its way inside of you again, and you cried out, still sensitive after your climax.

“I know baby,” he whispered. “Just a little more okay?” 

You nodded lazily as he pushed all the way in, taking a much slower pace than he previously had. He started to pick it up, and you reached out to grab the back of his head and pull him down to you. His lips met yours eagerly and you moaned into his mouth, climbing closer to the edge once again. Moving your lips down to his neck, you sucked harshly, causing him to let out a soft whine. 

“I’m close,” he groaned as he drove into your hips over and over. You felt your body getting hot and knew you were about to go over the edge. 

“Cum in me, please Lan,” you begged as your back arched off the bed during your climax; he grunted into your ear, spilling into you before he collapsed on top. 

He took a few minutes to catch his breath before moving off the bed, and scooping you up in his arms, moving towards the bathroom. He gently set you down before turning on the faucet to fill the bath. 

“Are you okay?” He murmured, finally looking over at you. 

“Mmmhmm,” you replied and he smiled softly at you. 

“Come on, princess,” he urged as he got into the bath. You stepped in, sitting in front of him, your back leaning against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you and he sighed contently as he rested his chin on your head. 

“Do you still love me?” You asked vulnerably and Lando had to hold back his laugh. 

“Of course, baby. I’d be insane not to love you,” he replied, and you turned your head to smile at him. I’m sorry about this year. It’s been hard, and I could have been doing a lot more to show you how much I love you.” 

“I forgive you Lan,” you said softly. “You’re under a lot of stress and I could be more sensitive to that.” 

He buried his head in your neck, wondering how he got so lucky to have you. Before joining you in bed, he drained the bath and put on a pair of boxers. You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, tracing your skin lightly. 

“I was planning on returning tomorrow,” you admitted, and he chuckled.

“Damn, so I only had to hold out for one more day,” he said.

“You probably would have given yourself food poisoning,” you muttered, and he smiled cheekily at you. 

“I knew you watched the stream,” he boasted, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I had to after I woke up to a million Twitter mentions. You being a simp so publicly made me forgive you instantly. It's embarrassing behavior.” 

He tickled your sides, making you giggle and shift onto him. He guided your head up to his and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, moving slowly. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he whispered and you nodded before laying back down on him. 

“Me either,” you mumbled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied and you felt yourself starting to drift off. “But you have to call the bank in the morning and explain that my card wasn’t stolen.” 

[a-hazbin-reader]

Eeek I love your writing it makes me so 🫶🫶🫶 Can I make a request?

If you do angst to comfort, can you make reader waiting for Alastor to come back (they're married) for seven years? Reader's friends has been pushing them to have a new lover—introducing them to new demons or overlords that the reader might like, but the reader only loves one; which is Alastor. Until Vox made the news that he was back, for months, without looking for the reader. Which makes the reader think Alastor doesn't love them anymore and tries to not be in his attention whenever they meet and pretends to not know him. What will Alastor do? :3 Thank yous!!!

Oh man...that ANGST!!!

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Reader is sad, Suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

When Alastor first dissappears, you assume he's just busy and will be back by the end of the day

And then you wake up alone...so maybe he'll be back tomorrow. Tomorrow turns into a week, a week turns into a month...

He's just gone, suddenly ripped away from you without warning and you didn't even get a proper goodbye

So you search for him, you ask everyone if they've seen him or heard about his whereabouts

You even ask Vox if he managed to kill your husband, knowing the TV head wouldn't be able to resist bragging about it

Instead, he looks surprised and uncomfortable with your obvious distress, muttering something about keeping an eye out for you

Rosie is worried too and offers her help but turns up nothing, she does her best to keep an eye on you

You never give up on finding him, knowing that he's alive out there

After the first three years your friends start trying to get you to move on, setting you up with available bachelors

Valentino has offered to help you get over your husband multiple times because he's just such a good guy

You don't give any of them a chance, you had already found the one man you wanted to be with for eternity and married him

He's just not here at the moment

The pain in your heart is just as strong as when you first realized Alastor was missing, crying yourself to sleep nearly every night

The only time you get to see him now is in your dreams, clutching one of his jackets with his scent still on it

You just feel so abandoned...

After the sixth year, your friends try to get you to move or throw out some of Alastor's things but you can't bring yourself to do it

He's going to come back to you, you know it, so you keep your wedding ring on and still present yourself as a married woman

Rosie makes sure you take care of yourself on the days when your sadness swallows you whole

"Wipe away those tears now, have you eaten today? No? I have just the thing for you.."

Seven years go by and nothing has changed for you

You're sad and miserable, running errands when you suddenly pass by an electronics store, seeing Vox on the TV

That's nothing new to you, you almost turn away and keep walking until you hear Vox say something about Alastor

You're suddenly frozen, listening to Vox bitch about Alastor's multiple offenses during these last few months

He's been back...for months..? And hasn't come to see his wife?

You're blinking away hot tears, the air in your lungs going sour and your stomach doing flips

Did Alastor really abandon you like that? You need to go see the one person who you know has been digging into Alastor for as long as you have

Vox literally screams like a child when you're suddenly bursting into his office and grabbing him by his suit

"How long has my FUCKING HUSBAND BEEN BACK!? And why didn't you tell me, Vox!? WHY!?"

"FUCK! Who let you in here!?"

"VOX!" You're shaking him now, making his screen glitch out

"A-at least a couple of months for sure! He's doing something with Lucifer's daughter and a hotel or some shit! I thought you would've been the first to know he was back!"

Vox is relieved when you finally let go of him, fixing his suit before suddenly giving you a cruel grin

"Wait wait wait-don't tell me-he hasn't come to see you this whole time!? You wait all these years for him and he's shacking up with Lucifer's daughter, a porn star and who knows who else!?"

He suddenly stops laughing when you slam his screen into his desk, storming out afterward so he doesn't see the angry tears in your eyes

"Don't get mad at me because he started a new life without you!"

Vox knew exactly which ugly worries to pull out of your head and you let him get to you

But you knew he was right, looking at all the evidence presented to you...it does look like Alastor is starting over

A small part of you is telling you that he's replaced you somehow but you have enough pride to doubt it

But that self pity comes back to bite you that same night, crying harder than you ever have before

By the end of the week, you've convinced yourself that he doesn't love you anymore, that he got bored of you

You still haven't taken off your wedding ring yet

Imagine your surprise when on your way home you bump into Charlie Morningstar, the princess of hell herself

She somehow managed to crash into you and knock down everything you were carrying, making you sigh and bend down to pick it up

"Oh my gosh, I'M SO SORRY!!" 🥺

You mumble something forgiving back to her, still picking up your things when you hear a familiar voice that makes your heart ache

"Charlie, my dear! What sort of mischief have you gotten int-Y/N?"

You're still as beautiful as Alastor remembers, if not even more so

You can hear the surprise in his voice, along with notes of panic and guilt

You just ignore him, gathering the rest of your things before walking in the opposite direction of them, you don't dare look at Alastor

You know you would break down if you did

He doesn't follow you, nor does he follow you the next time you run into him, or the time after that

It hurts you a little more each time, wanting to know if your husband ever loved you at this point

He doesn't know what boundaries to push with you anymore, he just misses you like crazy

Alastor knows he has to do something-

He tries cornering you the next time he sees you, standing in your way

"Y/N, please just let me explain-"

"I don't know who you're talking about, I'm not who you think I am."

He grabs your wrist, eyeing your wedding band with a frustrated expression

"You're wearing our wedding ring..."

"This is the ring my husband gave to me, and I haven't seen him in years."

You rip away your arm and walk away from him, crying to yourself over how much it hurts

You don't see how his ears lay low, and how he watches you with a regretful expression

He wishes he could just tell you everything, wants to run after you and hold you

But his deal doesn't allow it, he wanted to go straight to you when he got back-never wanted to leave you in the first place

But he was also too ashamed to face you, scared to find that you moved on or that you no longer loved him

He hates that he's hurting his wife like this and it sours his mood for weeks afterwards

Charlie and Vaggie start to understand that Alastor's sudden angry attitude always happens whenever he sees you

But they don't know who you are and they're way too afraid to ask Alastor because he's still digging his claws into everything out of anger

Niffty is actually the one who tells them that you're his wife but Husk explains to them that you're probably pissed at him for disappearing

Charlie is crying at the thought of Alastor and his wife being separated, Vaggie having to comfort her

So the two women get to work on finding you themselves, showing up on your doorstep one day and inviting you to the hotel

It takes a lot of coaxing and convincing from them to finally get you to go with them

You're a bit surprised to hear that Alastor is helping with a hotel centered around the idea of redemption

But you figure he's got some sort of angle, he always does

Alastor isn't there when you three arrive, Charlie having talked your ear off about everything Alastor has been doing to help

Which is unlike him, you're immediately suspicious

But you recognize Husk and Niffty, the little woman running to you and crawling all over you in excitement

"Y/N! Y/N! You're here! Are you gonna stay? Is your house messy? Do you have roaches for me to kill~?"

"Hey Y/N, you look like you need a drink.."

You almost start crying then and there, not having realized how much you missed them too, hugging Niffty tight as you take a seat at the bar

It almost feels like old times, the three of you talking late into the night until it's just you and Husker...

He takes a shot and seems to be preparing himself for something, uncomfortable suddenly

"Y/N...there's something I gotta tell you...about your husband..."

You're expecting to hear the worst, to hear that Alastor cheated, to hear that he's seeing someone new

But what Husk tells you is far FAR from that...you don't know whether to be thankful or horrified

Your husband's soul...owned by someone else? Just what did that man get himself into?

You don't even realize you're crying until Husk is awkwardly hugging you, patting your back gently as you cling to him

At some point, you must've fallen asleep because you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, your face buried in Alastor's neck

You almost relax and fall back asleep before your eyes suddenly pop open, jolting up and shoving him away

Even with what Husk told you, you're still mad at him, he never came back to see you

Alastor wakes up fast enough to realize he's falling off the bed, climbing back up with downward facing ears

"We need to talk, darling.."

"What is there to talk about? You don't want a wife anymore, is that it? Is that why you never came to see me?"

He looks so guilty and upset, his smile tense as he looks away, you have to resist the urge to rub his ears

You flinch away at first when he takes your hands before reluctantly letting him hold them, missing him too much to fight it

"I was too ashamed to face you...there's so much I can't tell you and I was...scared that you would be with someone new."

"Do you have any idea how much pain I was in? Alastor, it nearly broke me.."

He has tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, looking away to try and save face as he pulls you in for a tight hug

"Just please...forgive me and let me be your husband again. I'll do everything I can to fix this..."

It doesn't make up for all the pain you felt for seven years but it's definitely a start

You've missed him too much to continue being angry with him, so you just cling to him and cry

You cry until you both fall asleep again, eventually waking up tangled in each other's arms

He's kissing all over your face, ghosting his lips over your eyes, your nose, your forehead, eventually getting to your lips

You suddenly feel so full of emotion, like you could burst with happiness at finally having Alastor again

You had nearly given up hope that you would feel him, taste his lips, or smell his raw scent ever again

You dig your nails into him when he tries to pull away, forcing him to kiss you longer as his hands bruise your hips

You both are panting by the time you pull away, bodies pressed as close as possible out of a need for contact

His voice comes out like static, leaning in for another kiss as gazes at you with loving eyes

"I have missed you...so much..."

You could cry if it weren't for the fact that you were sick of crying, instead rolling yourself on top of him and kissing along his jaw

"You better prove it to me."

His pleased growl followed by claws digging into your clothes answered you well enough

You know he still has a lot to make up for but this is a good start

Sorry this one came out so long!! I hope you like it!!

[whoops-all-jennas]

More than a Game - t.c.

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary - Tara is dared to talk to you by her friend group during class. She regrets it and wants to make it up to you

This was inspired by @kaisacobra fic "I Dare You"

Warnings: slight bullying

Part 1 Part 2

The sound of cars passing by and the patter of raindrops on your umbrella is the only stimulation you have on your walk to school.

You usually wear earbuds but you discovered this morning that you accidentally left them in your pocket when you were washing your clothes, ruining your favorite earbuds.

You already know that today is going to be miserable, it never rains here so it must be a sign.

When you get near Woodsboro High, some assholes splash you by running over a puddle with their car.

You put your arms up in shock as you're now drenched. You see them snickering from their car, and fueled by your sour mood, you flip them off as they continue driving away.

You managed to get to school and make your way to the cafeteria for some breakfast. The chatter of students is the only other noise besides the squeaking of your wet shoes.

When you can see the line you see the cafeteria workers closed the line as the bell rings.

"This day literally can't get any worse." you mutter to yourself. As you leave the cafeteria one of the straps of your backpack broke.

-

"Look what the storm dragged in" Liv said mockingly to her friends at her table, just loud enough for you to hear as you drop your backpack next to your table near the back of the classroom and plop into your seat.

Tara's friends in this class consists of Amber, Chad, and 'Liv'. She wasn't really friends with Liv, but she was in the friend group so she had to try to get along with her.

"Why don't we talk to her? make her day better?" Liv said to her friends again with a malicious smile.

Tara knows this means 'act like talking to the quiet kid is some sort of game and treat them like a pet.'

"Come on Tara, you do it." Tara looks between her friends.

"What, no she's clearly having a bad day." Tara whispers loudly to Liv as Amber is now butting in.

"So?" if Amber had gum she would be chewing it in the most exaggerated way possible.

"What do you two have against y/n?" Chad says, now entering the conversation.

The next few seconds are silent until Liv breaks it. "Fine, I'll do it." Liv is about to stand up until Tara stands up first.

"No, I'll do it." Tara starts heading towards the open seat next to you before anyone can object.

Tara knows how Liv can be, so she thought it'd be better for you if it was at least herself instead.

"Hey." Tara says while taking a seat next to you.

You glance at her, acknowledging her existence, and then go back to getting ready for class. You pull out your laptop which is covered in stickers of different shows and stuff you like.

Tara looks forward to her friends who are watching back, Liv and Amber are amused but waiting for something to happen and Chad looking back a little worried.

"I like your laptop, I'm also a fan of-"

You interrupt her, your patience wearing thin. "I'm really not in the mood for this today." You finally look at Tara again. "I'm not an idiot, you can go tell your friends we're 'best friends' now or whatever." You say while making quotation marks with your fingers, annoyance lacing every word you said.

"Sorry I didn't mean-"

You cut her off again as you groan and put your stuff back in your backpack and quickly head out the door. The negative energy emanating off you.

As you're about to leave, your other backpack strap broke and fell to the ground.

You groan more loudly and annoyed than before, quickly grabbing your now not so 'back'pack and carrying it in your hands.

Tara looks to Amber and Liv giggling and looks back to you as you leave. She sees you dropped your chapstick, so she gets up and picks it up.

She heads to the door to see where you went but you were already gone.

Tara heads back to her friends, she tries to hide it but there's guilt on her face.

"That was awesome, did you record that?" Amber says while pointing at Liv.

"Shit I totally should have." Liv and Ambers faces have too much joy in them.

"You guys are assholes" Chad directs mostly at Amber and Liv.

"Lighten up a little, we were just joking around." Amber says with a smile on her face while Tara sits down in her original seat as the last bell rings indicating that class was starting.

'I'm an asshole.' Tara thinks to herself, not being able to focus during class.

-

Tara gets in the car with Chad and Mindy after the school day ended, she didn't see y/n for the rest of the day.

Tara usually gets a ride home from Chad and today wasn't any different, well at least in that aspect.

Chad has a worried look on his face when he looks at Tara in the back seat. He can see the guilt of today eating her up.

"I think you did the right thing, even though how it ended I know you had good intentions." Tara just nods with a forced smile.

"What are you talking about, what happened?" Mindy gets herself in the conversation.

"I don't really wanna talk about it." Tara replies and this quickly ends the conversation while Chad turns the car on.

"Hey Chad, was y/n in class in your first period? she wasn't in A/V class today but I swear I saw her this morning in the cafeteria." Mindy directs her words at Chad seeing that Tara doesn't really want to talk right now.

Tara rubs her hands across her face at hearing where the conversation is going before she looks out the window.

"She was there for a bit, but she left early." Chad responds. "Why what's up, I didn't know you two knew each other."

Chad glances towards Mindy for a second before focusing on the road again. "We were assigned together on a group project in A/V and we just kinda hit it off. Like behind that quiet and shy wall she has at first is this chill and talkative girl, when you get to know her first of course and she's comfortable around you."

Tara groans quiet enough for no one to hear as she throws her head back against the seat.

'Great, another reason to feel like an asshole.' She thinks to herself and soon the car comes to a stop in front of her house.

"I know we usually hangout after school, but you seem kinda out of it so I understand if you want to be alone for now." Chad looks back from the driver seat.

"Yeah, I kinda wanna be alone for now." Tara says quietly.

"Thanks for the ride." Tara gets out of the car after grabbing her backpack and heads to her house as Chad drives away.

When Tara gets inside she pulls out y/n's chapstick that she dropped. After getting a glass of water and settling down for a minute she grabs her phone and goes to Mindy's Instagram page.

She clicks on her followers and searches 'y/n' and quickly finds your account. Your account is set to private but your pfp is a picture of yourself with Mindy covered in fake blood.

Tara giggled at the picture, That was probably for the A/V project Tara thought to herself.

She requests to send a message starting with a picture of the chapstick and the caption 'u forgot something'.

After sending the message she turns the TV on while the anxiety of sending you a message slowly builds up as Tara keeps checking her phone.

After about 10 minutes Tara gets a notification from y/n

y/n: "thanks for picking it up"

Tara quickly starting typing but saw you were typing another message

y/n: "im sorry for kinda blowing up this morning"

Tara erased what she was typing and started a new message

Tara: "No no I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm sorry for trying to talk to you when you clearly didn't want to be talked to"

Tara stares at the screen contemplating her next move before typing again

Tara: "How about I make it up to you? I saw you're a fan of horror movies how about we go watch a movie sometime"

Tara slaps herself after sending the message, but there isn't anything she can do about it now because she can see you already read the message.

After a few minutes Tara swears to herself after realizing you stopped typing and Tara was left on read.

-

You stare at the message you received from Tara with a confused look on your face.

"What?" you mouth to yourself before switching to messaging Mindy.

y/n: "hey mindy, your brother is friends with that one girl right? i think her name is tara"

You stare at the screen waiting for a response and are soon awaited with Mindy seeing the message and 3 dots moving in a bubble

Mindy: "yeah why?"

y/n: "what's she like? have you talked to her before? she's asking me to do hangout with her but i also know she's friends with amber and liv and THEM i know i don't like."

Mindy: "she's definitely the nicest out of that group, I have no idea why chad chills with them but tara i can actually have a conversation with and not have put up an act yk?"

Mindy: "what do you mean Tara is trying to hangout with you?"

You stare at the message contemplating what to say next until you start typing.

y/n: "well today she sat next to me and tried to talk to me. she's with liv and them so i assumed she was doing that thing where people talk to the more awkward students as a kinda game?"

y/n: "i kinda blew up on her and now she's messaging me saying she wants to watch a horror movie with me"

Mindy: "she's definitely not the type of person to do that willingly if that's what you're asking"

Mindy: "the teasing i mean"

Mindy: "if you're asking if you should do it it's your choice. I don't think there's any ill intend."

you stare at the message for a second before giving a quick reply

y/n: "thanks, this helps a lot with my decision :)"

Mindy: "ofc! anytime :)"

After a little more contemplating you go back to the messages with Tara.

y/n: "sorry for leaving you on read for so long lol"

y/n: "what movie did you have in mind?"

-

Somehow on the same day you agreed to go to Tara's house to watch a movie tonight with her. She lives a lot closer than you expected, walking distance close.

As you approach her door you hesitate on knocking for a second. After a few seconds you opt to messaging her saying you're here.

Tara opens the door with an awkward smile. "Hi, come on in make yourself at home."

You wave at her sheepishly, it feels better to see her treat you a bit more genuinely. It also doesn't hurt that she's pretty.

You take your shoes off and follow her to the living room. When you see a bowl of popcorn and the TV set up for a movie you instantly feel a weight off your shoulders.

You now know this isn't a setup or anything to tease you more. "Did you need anything to eat or drink?" Tara says, who is clearly a bit nervous, not as nervous as you are though.

"Just water, thank you." You awkwardly smile at her as she heads to the kitchen.

"Make yourself comfortable!" You hear her say from the kitchen like she knows you're just standing here awkwardly which, granted, she's right. So you take a seat on the couch.

Her house is very cozy, the lights are a warm color and they're not too abrasive.

Tara soon enters with two cups of water and sets them down on the coffee table.

"Is there anyone else here?" You say realizing how quiet it is.

"No, just us. my mom's at work so." Tara sits next to me and grabs the remote.

"We can watch whatever you recommend." You say and she looks at you a bit confused

"But this is for you." You exchange eye contact with Tara before you speak.

"I know and what I want to watch is what you recommend."

You give her a more genuine smile.

"Alrightly then, we're watching the Babadook." She gives you a smile before getting the Babadook setup on the TV.

During the movie you realize that you and Tara actually get along really well once you both got comfortable.

You kinda feel bad for blowing up on her today. You look towards her and admire her face, she really is so pretty.

"Everything okay?" You didn't realize you were staring until she spoke, your face starts to heat up.

"Yeah everything is fine." You said way too fast and broke eye contact immediately going back to the screen.

You can feel her eyes on you, she is definitely smirking but you are way too scared to look back. Instead you go to grab some more popcorn which Tara follows.

She touches your hand in the popcorn bucket, it wasn't too slick either it was clear that was what she was trying to do.

Either way, it doesn't make you any less flustered. "Sorry!" You quickly pull my hand back, if you getting caught staring was considered blushing then they needed a stronger word for how your face looks now.

"Its okay." Tara says with a sort of smugness in her voice.

Tara gets her water from the coffee table and takes the opportunity to sit closer to you.

Your shoulders are now touching and the extended contact is causing your heart to do flips.

"You okay? you look a little warm." Tara says teasingly. "Yeah I'm doing good, this movie is really good so far." A desperate attempt to get the attention off yourself.

Your faces are really close now and you can feel her breath on you.

Tara goes to make her next move, she reaches for your hand till she heard the front door open.

"Tara I'm home!" She heard her mother say from the front door.

Tara made space between you two quickly before her mom came in the room. Tara now being the one to be flustered.

"I see you have a friend here" She says, instantly able to see something was happening just by the look on Tara's face.

"Hi, I'm y/n." You interject awkwardly between the knowing stare that Tara's mom gave her.

"You can just call me Ms. Carpenter." She says waving before going up the stairs giving knowing glances on the way.

"I'm sorry about that, my mom can be a bit, you know." Tara makes eye contact with me, her face still flushed.

"Its okay" Trying to reestablish the previous mood. You both silently continue the movie, never really going beyond what previously happened between us.

The movie was just about over and it was getting late. Shortly after we finished the movie.

"I had a lot of fun, we should hangout more sometime" Tara says with a smile while she opens the door for me.

"Yeah I'd like that." We both look at each other not quite sure what to do or where we stand currently.

We both just awkwardly wave at each other as I start to walk home.

When you get inside and get comfortable in your bed you take a look at your phone.

There are two Instagram notifications, Tara Carpenter requested to follow you and another message.

"You forgot this again"

With a picture of your chapstick.

an: hey guys! im sorry if this isn't too well written, this is not only my first time writing a fic but first time writing because I wasn't forced to write. hope you enjoyed :)