#so how do I explain to her that like. people make mistakes. even bad ones sometimes. and they still have a pretty solid

[yuujispinkhair]

NERD!SUKUNA HEADCANONS - Part 1

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). College AU. 2k words 18+, fluff + smut (Sukuna has some dirty fantasies about Reader. The actual smut will be in Part 2). "Enemies" to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is shy and struggles with her grades. Sukuna is a genius but bad at feelings ;) Minors don't interact. Divider @/.lacedolliee. Credit for the super sexy fanart of Nerdkuna goes to my sweet friend @winterrbluess. The pic was used with Winn's permission 🖤 You asked if someone could write a little something about your fave sexy nerd, and I couldn't resist ;) I hope you'll enjoy it!

Nerd!Sukuna, who looks like a bad boy but is actually at the top of all his classes and a huge nerd when it comes to his studies and his various interests. Very intelligent, passionate, and hardworking. Sukuna always wants to be the best in everything he does.

Nerd!Sukuna, who could be one of the most popular guys on the whole campus if he wanted to, with his good looks and impressive height and fit body. But he keeps everyone at arm's length, not giving a fuck about popularity and not wanting to get distracted from his academic success.

Nerd!Sukuna, who once beat up a football player who tried to make fun of Sukuna's passion for all things history-related, and ever since that day, no one dared to bother Sukuna again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is arrogant and condescending and thinks (rightfully so) that no one is fit to hold a candle to him. He is constantly looking down on everyone around him and would rather spend his free time perfecting his skills and studies than doing something useless.

Nerd!Sukuna, who hates group projects and prefers to work alone because everyone else is just holding him up, and Sukuna has to control all of their steps to fix their mistakes.

Nerd!Sukuna, who rolls his eyes in annoyance when he gets paired up with you for an assignment. A shy little thing whose name he never heard before, which means you are definitely not playing in the same academic league as him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who towers over you with his backpack slung casually over his broad shoulders and his tattooed face cold and hard when he informs you that he expects you to work hard and not fuck up his grades, or he will make your life hell.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is fully convinced this will be a disaster when he sees you wring your hands nervously and promise him you will work your ass off for this assignment because you really need a good grade so you can pass.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is a control freak who plans everything ahead and, therefore, doesn't let you have a word on how often you meet or when or where. He doesn't like having people over at his place, but he invites you over anyway because his kitchen table is his favorite place to study.

Nerd!Sukuna, who fixes you with a stern look through his nerdy glasses as he shoves a huge stack of books across the table, informing you he expects you to read all the needed information, which he already marked for you with various color-coded sticky notes. "Because you probably don't even know what we need for this assignment."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how thoroughly you work and by the questions you ask him, which let him know you aren't as dumb as he thought.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how you hang on his lips when he explains stuff to you, clearly impressed by his detailed knowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he intentionally lowers his voice a bit more, just to see you get all nervous when he is talking in such a husky way, almost as if he isn't explaining political intrigues in the Heian era to you but rather telling you what he wants to do to you in his bed.

Nerd!Sukuna, who finds devilish joy in seeing how flustered you get around him and how clearly intimidated you are by his tall and broad body and his tattoos and arrogant attitude.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit (only to himself) that getting paired up with you isn't too bad because at least you give your best, and you are actually kind of cute. The kind of sweet, shy girl who usually doesn't cross paths with him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself watching you during study time in his kitchen or in the library. He tells himself he is just checking if you really do your work, but his gaze mostly lingers on your glossy lips, which wrap around your pen while you focus on something or on your nose, which looks super cute when you scrunch it up in confusion.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't one to brag because he thinks that is something for losers, but he can't help but mention casually some of the academic awards he already won just because he is getting addicted to the buzzing in his veins when he sees the way you gulp hard and get all shy and cute on him, muttering something about how you struggle to even stay in college.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually loves to be a little sadist and make fun of people who have bad grades, but somehow, he can't bring himself to do that when it comes to you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who instead surprises himself by reaching out and ruffling your hair, telling you that he will help you with your studies.

Nerd!Sukuna, who forms a strange little companionship with you, almost looking forward to your meetings and even preparing an extra plate of snacks for you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who usually isn't someone people would refer to as nice, but who drops his arrogant and mocking attitude at least a little when he is in his kitchen with you and instead jokes around with you and feels his heart throb weirdly when you get his humor, and laugh about his even most sarcastic remarks.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes it when you come out of your shell more and more, joining in on his playful teasing or telling him about your favorite books and shows.

Nerd!Sukuna, who accidentally overhears you telling your classmate that you don't have time to go to the coffeeshop with her because you are already meeting your friend Sukuna after class, which leaves Sukuna standing in the middle of the hallway for a whole thirty seconds, with his mouth hanging open, completely stunned and looking like a brainless idiot as his mind tries to wrap around the fact that you see him as your friend when Sukuna never had a friend before.

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes sure to bake your favorite muffins and prepare your favorite type of tea before you come over that afternoon, wordlessly showing you that he values your companionship, or friendship, as you called it, too.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels a small smile tug at his usually smirking lips when he sees your big happy smile and hears your sweet "For me? Oh, thank you!" when you see the plate with muffins on your place at his kitchen table. And yes, he refers to it as your place, and the thought makes him feel strangely warm.

Nerd!Sukuna, who playfully teases you for your Hello Kitty pens and glittery pink notebooks, asking if you are in some "Little Princess Kindergarten Club" or something. Only for you to march up to him the next morning before class to press a Hello Kitty text marker set against his chest so he can join the club, too, causing Sukuna to sit in class with a stupid grin on his face for a whole hour.

Nerd!Sukuna, who likes how easy things feel with you. How he can put all his hard work into your assignment and also see you working hard on it, but also have this light-hearted, playful banter with you, making him realize how boring and dry his afternoons used to be before you became his assignment partner.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to admit that you definitely aren't as bad of an assignment partner as he thought you would be. He even allows you to fill out a whole page all by yourself, which is the biggest compliment he can give you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself playfully flirting with you, smirking smugly when he catches you staring at him when he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "See something you like, princess? Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I know those glasses look sexy on me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who loves to tease you like that and who ducks just in time when you scream in embarrassment and throw a pen at him while looking so fucking cute that Sukuna just teases you even more.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is quite happy with how your assignment is going. Usually, he would do the whole presentation by himself because he trusts no one else to deliver it the way he wants to, but Sukuna knows how shy you are about talking in front of the class, and Sukuna wants to teach you how to lose that fear.

Nerd!Sukuna, who just smirks at you when you complain loudly, "I can't do that! I am so bad at presenting things. I get all nervous and flustered, and then I mess up. Please do it yourself, Sukuna! You are so much better at this!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you, "If you always run away from everything that scares you, you will never make it in life. So, nope. You will do your part. But aren't you such a lucky girl that you have me as your teacher?"

Nerd!Sukuna, who makes you stand in front of his fridge and practice your presentation over and over again while Sukuna sits on the kitchen chair, long muscular legs spread, tattooed arms crossed in front of his broad chest, occasionally pushing his glasses up as he watches you with an amused expression on his tattooed face, providing a brutal but honest opinion and actually helpful advice.

Nerd!Sukuna, who isn't just an overly critical and perfectionist asshole, but also someone who gives praise when he thinks it is deserved. And you, his cute little assignment partner, really deserve it. Sukuna walks over to you, stopping in front of you with a broad grin, "You did really well, princess. I'm proud of you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who wonders why your pupils look so blown out all of a sudden when you tilt your head to look up at him, stuttering in a slightly breathless voice, "Th... thank you. You were a really good teacher."

Nerd!Sukuna, who laughs and pets your hair as he smirks at you, saying something about how he could teach you lots of other things, too. Not sure anymore whether he is still just teasing you or if he really means it in a sexual way.

Nerd!Sukuna, who realizes he has a little big problem when he starts noticing the way your tits get pushed up and almost spill out of your shirt when you press a stack of books against them. Or when he loses his thread because you decided to wear a sexy little skirt, and now Sukuna can't stop thinking about how cute it would look if you were bouncing on his cock while still wearing that little skirt. Or when you suck on your stupid Hello Kitty pen, and Sukuna can't help but imagine how those sweet glossy lips of yours would feel wrapped around his cock instead.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to suppress those thoughts though, not wanting to mess this assignment up.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels like encountering a world boss in a computer game, when you have a breakdown at his kitchen table, the evening before your presentation, crying and sobbing because you are nervous and convinced you will fuck up. And suddenly, Sukuna finds himself comforting you, gently caressing your arms with his large hands while murmuring reassurance to you. "Hey, stop being a brat. I know you can do it. You learned from the best, after all, didn't you, princess? And you got me. Just look at me the whole time, ok? Nothing bad can happen when you just look at me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who is surprised by how protective he feels over you at that moment. You are sitting in front of him looking like a wet cat, with your eyes all red and swollen from crying and snot running out of your nose, but somehow you still look so fucking cute to him, and somehow you make him so much softer and less rational than he usually is.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sighs and growls, "Oh, just come here." sounding annoyed but contradicting it by pulling you into his strong arms and holding you until you feel ok again. Sukuna still complains that you got his shirt wet with your tears, but his words lack the bite.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is genuinely proud of how much you improved when he watches your part of the presentation the next day. He even catches himself smiling a real smile at you when he congratulates you after class.

Nerd!Sukuna, who experiences a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach when you smile back at him and put your small hand on his tattooed biceps, "Thank you, Sukuna. It was really nice working with you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who manages a "same," but then just stands before you, opening his mouth and closing it again, not knowing what else to say because there are too many thoughts racing through his mind, and all of them seem to be too honest. And you do the same, shuffling around shyly, looking at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, but no words come out. And so both of you just lift a hand in an awkward farewell gesture and leave on opposite sides of the hallway.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to tell himself he is glad that your assignment is over and he can work in solitude again but then ends up staring longingly at the empty chair at his kitchen table, where you used to sit those last few weeks.

Aww Sukuna, do you miss us? ;)

I AM VERY ATTRACTED TO HIM AAAHHHH please, Kuna, tell me more about history and physics and every other subject that there is!!! You are so sexy!! 😘😘

Winn's fanart of Nerdkuna made me swoon so much and fall in love with him, and I always picture him as being at the top of classes anyway, so I think it was really time to finally write about him living his best nerdy life.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the headcanons! I will post Part 2 in a few days 💗 Will Kuna find a way to get us back onto his kitchen chair?

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

Here is Part 2

[midnghtprentiss]

the favorite - jack abbot x f!attending!reader

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!reader

a/n: this is my first jack story and i'm really excited. as a former healthcare worker (nurse!) the pitt changed a lot of things for me and it's my favorite show so far. hope you all like this idea of mine. sorry for any spelling mistakes. english is not my first language.

summary: all the times you were everyone's favorite person and one time you were jack’s person. 

one. 

you're a ray of sunshine. 

that's your thing.

you’re nice, intelligent, competent, kind and still the best part of the day for some people. and you’re smart as hell. she loves it. 

your calm energy it’s the reason why you work at the emergency department. people need your calmness around to work. which means you’re the favorite doctor beneath the staff, especially the nurses and med students - you’re their golden girl. 

dana loved you for different reasons. your sense of humour, your energy, the way you pay attention to the details. and most because you stay out of trouble. 

she never had a problem with you, actually, she was glad they put someone sane and kind to work in that shithole. every shift you showed up with something for the team. 

maybe homemade cookies, a cake and even a bread if you feel inspired baking for your people to show how grateful you are for them and to keep the spirits up. thank god it worked every time. perla and princess waited for you in the parking lot a few times just to make sure you got something good. 

what they admired the most about you was your strength to defend the nurses from the crazy patients. it doesn’t matter the shift, if someone is fighting with them, you’re the first one to show up and say some things. perla remembered how you got beaten up to defend princess from a perv that was touching her and how you ended up laughing about it with blood all over your nose (jack almost died when he saw you covered in blood - your blood). 

“it’s nothing, dana. he was touching her and i don’t appreciate it when men do that. she asked him to stop and he didn’t.” you shrugged and smiled at her. “don’t worry, alright? i would've done it for any of you.”

“kiddo, one of these days you’re going to kill me.”

“no i won’t.” you bolwed her a kiss and she laughed. a relieved laugh. “it’s not my fault i would take a bullet for you guys.” 

no one ever questioned your loyalty with the team, everybody knows exactly where’s the limit between respect and bullshit with you. from this day on, she put you under her wing and swore to herself anything that could ever happen to you during a shift was her full responsibility. some days the funniest part of her shift was explaining to abbot how you almost went home with a broken arm to defend them.

two. 

robby was his own person and you knew that. he loved the space, the warmth of his own heart and the loneliness. of course you were worried a lot of times. 

but for him you were like a breath of fresh air. the way you cracked jokes when you noticed he was this close to snap, when you distracted him for a few minutes with some picture of your cat, even taking him to the morgue just to swear bad words, or when you brought him coffee and chocolate. even when you covered for him for a few minutes so he could cry in peace. 

and he loved you a lot for that (and a lot of other reasons, but let’s focus on the main ones).

you never said a word about any of the things he never asked you to do and you've done it either way. he could count on you any moment of the shift just for glancing different at your direction. sometimes you have conversations with your eyes, sometimes you just cursed him under your breath and that was it. 

you even scared him a little. 

“i don’t want to see you for at least twenty minutes, robinavich. don’t make me yell at you.” you don’t even gleaned at him from the computer. “i got this. go grab something to eat while you cry, i don’t know. call your boyfriend, go watch some babies at peds i want you gone. the kids are my responsibility now.” 

“i need to be grown up now, i am literally their boss.” he tried to argue but one look from you was enough.

“if you don’t disappear in the next thirty seconds i’ll call jack and things will be worse.” you got up crossing your arms like a mother. 

“jezz, fine. please don’t ground call papa” he rolled his eyes, laughing and walked away from you, disappearing from your sight. 

“that’s how you teach grown men to be normal.” you winked at dana who was watching everything mesmerized cause she begged robby to take a break and he didn’t listen. 

robby was gone for thirty minutes and no one noticed his absence. when he returned to the nursing station he saw you teaching the med students how to do a proper examination on a normal patient, listening and answering all of the questions they had like a pro. 

you got everything covered and he felt good to have someone to help without needing to ask. 

that’s why you were his favorite. 

three. 

the med students loved you. the absolutely worship the ground you walked on. they loved your patience, your mind and especially how you treated them like people. in your mind they were there to learn, which means they'll make some mistakes and that's partially fine as long as they don’t kill anybody. 

“she has a masters and a doctorate, guys!” javadi once exclaimed like she found gold at the ED. 

at some point you became their confident. you knew every little detail about their life. how withaker was living with santos, how javadi was crushing mateo really bad even how santos struggled with the loss of her friend. mel learned how to open up about her sister's situation and mohan was navigating through the loss of her father even after all this time. you even helped mckay with the legal proceedings for her to have her son back. 

you knew everything. 

during your shifts you did your best to rotate between them. each day you choose one to watch from close and teach what you know and everyday they fight to decide who stays with you but after dr santos and whitaker dared to start a fist fight robby and dana choose for them. 

robby and jack were a little jealous of you, especially because you’re a smooth talker and you charmed everyone who listened. 

“it’s unfair how they follow you around like some sort of queen bee.” robby almost cried with his words. 

“i heard they have a groupchat with you, is it true?” jack nearly jumps from his seat. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you sipped your coffee. 

“oh you know exactly what i’m saying.” he shots back and you laughed hard. 

“are you jealous of them? from what i’ve known you don’t even like interns, abbot.” 

“yeah, but i like to know what they say about my girl.” 

“they call her mama bear, brother.” robby looked at his hands trying to hold a chuckle. 

they’re definitely jealous. 

you use your time to teach them some valuable lessons. you help them navigate in the transition of becoming a doctor. smoothly and nice, just like you learned. 

“you know, santos, i’ll be honest, you need to review your way of talking with people.” you were beside her with crossing arms, watching her stitch a patient. 

your voice was hard and soft at the same time. 

“i’m only rude to the jerks.” you hold your laugh. 

“at one moment you’ll start to see all of them as jerks and this can’t happen.” you warned her softly. “imagined if you’re the one in their position. would you like to be treated like that?” 

she stared at you and nodded gently, sighing at your words. 

“what if i can’t do that?” 

“you will call me and we’ll try a different approach.” you touch her shoulder and squeeze. “i don’t want you to be cold and indifferent. the medicine needs to make you feel something. you’re doing a good thing for someone you like or not.”

they listen to you and they care. if you say something immediately they’ll do it and will make it like their life depends on it. 

at your birthday, for example, they made you a cake from scratch and even decorated it with pink frost and a glitter candle. you burst out laughing just for them to do that for you. no one else got a cake, just you. 

they even wrote you a small letter. 

“thank you for being the best teacher for us. we loved you, mama bear.  lots of love and hugs from your students.”

you were really grateful for those kids and they were grateful you’re their teacher. 

four. 

langdon was a problematic guy. it was no secret. he knew it, you knew it. but he was an exceptional doctor. no discussions about that. it was a fact. 

when he first started struggling with his addiction he came to you. something was happening to him and you got it in your heart that in the right moment he would talk. 

and he did.

he always talked about his problems with you. he came to talk about his marriage and how scared he was to broke things off with abby, how scared he was of being a shitty father. he viewed you more like an older sister, a protector of him. he liked how you never judged his fears, he liked the way you listened and tried to put some sense into his mind to do the right things. 

but this time it was different. it was worse. eating him alive. 

you were working a double shift when he found you in the stairs eating a burger in peace. you offered him some and he denied it. the air around him was thick, heavy and sad. he was a broken man and the sight almost broke your heart. 

“talk to me, frank.” 

“i fucked up.” you nodded, putting your food away to hold his hand.

“heard about it.” he sighed and you could see how embarrassed he was. “you need to get some help. i can’t see you struggling and acting like nothing's wrong. i like you too much to close my eyes and pretend.”

“i’m going to rehab. eleven months.” you smile. “robby is pretty pissed at me.” you both laughed. 

“good for you, frank.” your hand find his shoulder “you’re gonna get better. i’ll be there to help you whenever you need someone to talk, to eat burgers or talk shit about our job.the world is pretty fucked and i’m pretty sure you need a chance to make things right from your mistakes, you hear me?”

he nodded feeling a little less lost knowing you’ll be there to help. he wasn’t alone anymore and when he understood he had you by his side, the journey was smoother. 

five. 

jack abbot was a man of darkness. he worked so much better at night. it was his comfort zone. 

until you showed up years ago and messed up this whole dark theme he had planned for himself. 

working doubles wasn’t strange to you. you have bills to pay and things to accomplish and no time to waste. you two get along pretty well. more than well, actually. you were unstoppable together and everybody knew that. even walsh recognize you were good. she liked you (a miracle in jack’s view) a lot. 

you knew better than to date another doctor. you did this once and ended up in a pretty bad divorce. and with jack? you didn’t care anymore. 

he also knew better than to date another doctor. to date anyone actually. but no one was you. no one had a contagious laughter like yours. no one had a brain like yours. 

he was pretty sure god, or whatever divine figure, sent you just for him. 

the whole ‘soulmate’ story was a lie to him, until it wasn’t. you definitely was his soulmate. his favorite person.

his person. 

from the quiet drive home after a shift. from the warmth of your body curled around him. even your cold feet touching his feet in the middle of the night. 

falling for you was so easy if you like to observe things from a closer perspective. he noticed how you always have something red when you work the night shift and how you have something green at the day shift. he noticed you liked your coffee sweet for normal shifts and how you drink your coffee black at night.

he observes how you treat everyone, how you greet them with a bright smile and the coziest hugs even on your worst day. he could spend hours watching you talk (he does that everytime you pick an online class to teach) or breathe (he watched your sleep like a crazy psycho). 

you’re his person when you grab him coffee without him asking, when you sneak a sweet in the pocket of his scrubs. when you catch his gaze from across the room. when you start rambling about some gossip you heard through dana. when you talk to yourself trying to remember the article you just published.

to be loved is to be seen and he sees you. 

 you’re his person when he knows you’re his. 

he knows you are his girl when you’re sitting in his bed with his shirt and his socks, messy bun, glasses, computer on your lap, cup of tea in the nightstand and his dog laying at your feet waiting for you to move. the comfortable silence. the white noise of the television playing something he lost track of what it was. it’s when he looks at you like you’re his salvation from the darkness. it’s the words that come through his mind when he writes you a letter or a note. 

“i think i’m going crazy.” you whisper looking at him for a second.

“where is this coming from?” he chuckled. 

‘just checking if you agree or not.” you winked and he laughed hard. 

“pretty funny until you start accusing me of madness.” 

“i could never! it was one time, c’mon.” he took your glasses and held your face. 

“you’re the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever seen.” love. that was love from him. 

he doesn’t feel bad showing you who he really is. you’ve seen him, really seen him. you love him for who he is, good baggage or bad. you love his mean remarks, his type of affection. you love how he is quiet. you love how he balances his life going to therapy, talking to someone. you find it funny how he tries to hide a smile when you compliment him. how he flustered when you kiss him in public. how he loves when you bake cookies for him. 

“i loved your brownies. did you put some coffee this time? best one so far. love you. -j”

to be loved is to be seen and you see him. 

it’s the hope of a future he know it’s worth fighting for because you’re his person. you’re his present.

the kind of love that doesn't need words to be there (but he has a ring in his drawer waiting for the right moment). 

[iamespecter]

"The Visit" - Little Nightmares Short Comic

Anyways, I love batshit insane, bastard Thin Man. It's my favorite interpretation of him, and is actually what I believe him to be as in Little Nightmares 2. Let me explain.

At first, I liked the interpretation of the Thin Man wanting to save himself from repeating the same mistakes, only to be trapped in a time loop. This paradox is cool, but that's too hopeful for a game like Little Nightmares.

The world of LN is twisted, and cruel. Innocents turned guilty. Victims becoming abusers. Regular people becoming monsters. Children becoming Adults. And I think... The Thin Man is no exception to this rule. I think, he is most definitely a bastardized version of Mono.

A twisted view into what kind of monster Mono becomes, if he doesn't let go of his grievances; which, spoiler alert--he doesn't.

That older, more selfish version of the little paperbag boy who becomes so obsessed after his betrayal, that he was willing to kill his younger self for even trying to take his "friend" away from him. Similar to The Lady who hungers like her Guests', I think he is under the influence of the transmission's broadcasts like his own Viewers as well, in order to distract himself from the betrayal that happened to him.

After all, how do you sit in a chair for so long? The answer is by being distracted and preoccupied, of course. I think he doesn't allow himself to think about it entirely, because it'd make him spiral badly.

And when Mono finally opens the door to his room, that distraction is interrupted.

And while yes, I believe that he isn't even known to be real by the residents of the Pale City, I think he still influences them somewhat via the Transmission, and he is the blueprint on what makes every adult so monstrous and so one-track minded. His influence is just THAT strong.

Besides, he is the big bad of LN 2. You should feel sorry for the circumstances that lead him to why he chooses to remain in his seat, but not for the atrocities he commits because he's an adult that's purely powered by his instincts: which is to retrieve his long lost companion at all costs. Which, he doesn't even succeed at, seeing as to how he keeps snagging the wrong kid every damn cycle.

It's this neglectful nature that spurs on the generational abuse, and in turn, keeps the cycle going. Getting physical isn't the reason abuse exists, it's always been neglect; Physical only comes next either on it's own, or an after effect of neglect. Which is also why I've began to dislike the idea that The Thin Man has good intentions, the moment he is "set free" from his prison.

You can't expect a person to stay sane and clean after spending a lifetime in the belly of a huge beast that's constantly consuming him. And that, I think, is the case of The Thin Man; He is no longer the sweet little boy who just wants to keep his friend safe as much as possible, these intentions of his have been twisted to the utmost extent that he becomes obsessed. Possessive. Isolating.

Keeping his friend safe is no longer the priority, it's just keeping his friend by his side for as long as he can, whether she wants to or not.

As for the relevance of the topic to the comic? This comic is actually just a concept scenario of "What if, he knows who his friend really is, and knows where she lives". But I don't think The Thin Man canonically--nor fully-- is aware of the fact that The Lady might actually be the very person who he's looking for.

He is a paradox caused by his own actions, and his inability to break free from this toxic mindset. After all, the adults of LN are all monsters in their own way. And the most normal looking ones? They're typically the most depraved.

Well, that escalated quickly. Sorry for low quality ✌️

[ladysharmaa]

New life

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Anthony has an argument with his wife, who is from a lower class, when she makes a mistake while promenading with Anthony

(gif is not mine)

Y/n felt like a fish out of water. She didn't grow up in the privileged life that her husband, Anthony, had. Of course her life wasn't bad either, so many others had it worse than her. Y/n was the daughter of well-known merchants, and despite their busy lives where she had to start working as a child to help her family, she was grateful for everything she had.

And then everything changed. Y/n was used to having to speak louder, wipe her hands on her old skirt after touching someone's dirty money, and do manual labor. Until one day, Viscount Bridgerton saw her, and it was love at first sight. A love that was rejected by both for too long.

Anthony was the one who gave in first. He started going to her parents' stall more often, buying things he didn't even need and that others could do for him just so he could look at Y/n. It was indisputable that there was a connection between them. Anthony insisted that they couldn't ignore how they felt about each other, but the girl was afraid. A daughter of merchants marrying into the upper class? It could only go wrong, and to make matters worse it would ruin the reputation of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony made her feel things she never thought she would feel.

Her parents, upon realizing what was happening, warned her of the dangers, but they just wanted to see their daughter happy. In the end, Y/n ended up confessing her love for Bridgerton when he came to her stall saying it would be the last time if she wanted it. Instead of answering him, Y/n took his hand, taking him to an isolated place, where no one could see them, and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Now, six months after they got married and were living a very happy life together, Y/n was still trying to learn the rules of society. It was a work in progress, and Anthony's mother and sisters helped Y/n a lot, explaining everything she could and couldn't do. There was so much information that she often just followed her instinct, ending up breaking some rules. Fortunately, she had just been among family and hadn't had to listen to anyone's judgment.

It wasn't easy being thrown into high society, dressed in the best dresses that she tried her best not to get dirty, speaking softly, and letting the maids do everything for her. But she would do anything for Anthony, and now she had a lifestyle that many would kill for. She couldn't complain.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was a sunny day and so, Y/n and Anthony decided to promenade through the park, taking the opportunity to go on a small boat trip. Everything was going well, the woman had fun touching the crystal clear water and watching the fish that fled quickly while Anthony, who was responsible for the physical work, smiled in amusement.

So, they decided to end their afternoon with one last walk through the park to enjoy the last rays of sun, Y/n's hand on Anthony's arm. Y/n was telling him for the thousandth time how excited she was to go play pall mall the next day with the rest of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony never complained and listened attentively and patiently.

But the couple's peace was ruined when a little in front of them, a woman who Y/n quickly recognized as Earl Harrison's wife, was shouting at a maid. She was already old, and was on her knees on the floor trying to clean the woman's expensive dress. People were sending them looks and Y/n felt fury run through her veins when no one intervened, allowing that maid to be basically humiliated in a public square.

She took a step forward, but was pulled back by Anthony, who was holding her hand while sending her a look. "We have nothing to do with this. It's better not to get involved."

Y/n frowned, shaking her head in denial. "No. I'm sorry, Anthony, but I can't do this. But I promise I'll control myself." She then added in a whisper, "If she doesn't irritate me."

"Y/n…"

But Anthony didn't have time to finish his sentence because his wife was already putting on a fake smile, approaching that scene. "Excuse me, what is happening?"

"Lady Bridgerton, look!" the Countess exclaimed while pointing at her maid as if she were an inferior being, noting that she was waiting for Y/n to take her side. "I came to have a picnic on this beautiful day, but this incompetent woman dropped the cake on my dress. It was my favorite!"

"You sound like a child." Y/n said truthfully, not caring about the gasps heard. Anthony sighed behind her.

"Countess Harrinson, I tripped over a stone. My deep apologies, it won't happen again." the maid, still kneeling on the floor, whimpered. The woman rolled her eyes and gave her a small kick, forcing her to move away.

"It won't happen again because you're not coming back with me. I don't accept mistakes, especially like this." The Countess said coldly, while Viscountess Bridgerton became redder and redder with anger.

"But I—"

"You know, Countess Harrinson, she won't be coming back to you because she's going to work for Viscount Bridgerton. We'd be happy to have you,…"

"Mary." the maid said, putting her hands to her face and crying. "My apologies. Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. That's very kind of you."

"How dare you!" the Countess exploded in anger. "You just disrespected Earl Harrinson's wife." Anthony's wife continued to look at her indifferently. The other mumbled in frustration, "I'm going to destroy your family's reputation."

"I'd like to see you try." she narrowed her eyes, not looking away from her until the Countess was already well away from them, the other maids hurrying after her. However, the crowd that formed stayed in the exact same place.

"Y/n, what do you think you're doing?" Anthony hissed. "We shouldn't have intervened."

"You can't really expect me to leave her here on the floor. Just because she's a maid doesn't deserve to be treated like this." Y/n snapped angrily at her husband, helping the poor woman to get up from the floor.

"I'm not saying she deserves it." he growled, he too beginning to get unnerved. "But you can't talk to an Earl's wife like that. This is a hierarchy, Y/n."

"If I see someone being mistreated, you can be sure that I will speak however I want to whoever I want."

"Watch it." Anthony warned with his jaw clenched. He looked around, noticing that they were attracting even more looks and attention. People were already starting to murmur among themselves, and Anthony was sure it wouldn't take long for rumors to spread. "Stop it and we'll talk at home."

"Don't treat me like I'm the insolent one." Y/n hissed, pulling her arm away when Anthony tried to pull her closer to him.

The maid seemed to be increasingly panicked, now being the cause of an argument between the Bridgerton couple, who were well known in society. On the other hand, the woman was quite touched by Y/n's kind gesture. In the midst of such an aggressive society, there were people with pure hearts who were not afraid to defend what they believed in.

"We'll talk at home then, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n ended up saying after a few long tense moments in which the two exchanged glares. She straightened her dress and started to walk, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at the maid who was hesitant to follow. "Come on, Mary, when we get to the mansion I'll introduce you to the rest of our maids who I'm sure will help you settle in."

The atmosphere was tense throughout the carriage ride. Anthony and Y/n continued to avoid talking, knowing that an argument would immediately begin. Instead, he seemed to be caught up in his thoughts while his wife was busy talking to Mary, who slowly seemed to be starting to relax.

When the carriage finally stopped, although they were angry with each other, the Bridgerton got out first to help Y/n out, as she was quite clumsy and it wouldn't be the first time she almost fell out of the carriage in her long dresses. .

"My office. We need to talk." he said in a low voice into Y/n's ear who nodded.

"Juliet." the Viscountess Bridgerton called one of the maids. "This is Mary. Please show her her duties and introduce her to the rest of the people. Make sure she feels welcome."

"Of course, Lady Bridgerton."

Finally, the couple was alone, but spirits seemed to still be high. Anthony continued to be frustrated with Y/n because she didn't realize that there was a hierarchy in society, and they couldn't do everything they wanted, or it would harm not only them but the entire family. On the other hand, Y/n felt that Anthony was supporting social injustice, and that no human being should be treated badly just because they are from a lower social class.

"If you're waiting for me to apologize, I won't."

"I'm hoping you realize the gravity of what you just did." Anthony snapped, running a hand over his face with a sigh. "No matter how much it costs you, you have to respect this society and its rules!"

"But I don't agree with these rules!"

"I don't care about that!" the man exploded, not seeing how Y/n flinched. They had never argued like this. Obviously, they had already disagreed on some issues, but never to the point of raising their voices. "You were selfish! Everything you do affects you and all of us. You have to stop thinking only about yourself!"

"Selfish?" Y/n muttered, looking at her husband with a frown. Those words seemed to be like a knife in her heart.

"Did it occur to you that Francesca is going to start her season in a few months? Now surely all the suitors will know about this family's reputation. That we don't respect hierarchy. That I married someone who has nothing to do with this lifestyle."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears. Her voice was shaking, but she tried to keep herself in control, "Well, I'm sorry that I let you down. It wasn't my intention, Lord Bridgerton. I'm sorry that you married someone who wasn't supposed to be here, living with all this money and stupid rules of etiquette. But I will always do what I think is right. Because unlike you, I know what it's like to be looked down upon by the upper classes."

Anthony looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing several times. "Wait, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I don't regret marrying you."

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Really, you should have married someone who was already into this lifestyle, who knew what the hell they were doing. I'm trying, I swear." Some tears fell. "But it's difficult. And dealing with these people, who think they are superior to others, I can't do it."

"Y/n…"

"But you're right. I should have thought about your family. Your siblings could be harmed by what I did, and that was the last thing I wanted. My apologies for that, I will make sure I fix this."

"No, no." the Bridgerton man said, looking desperately at the woman. The woman who gave up her life to marry him, and has tried hard every day to adapt. And here he is, who instead of helping her criticizes her for defending what she believes in. "You're not going to do anything because there's nothing to fix."

"You don't need to say that, I already realized I made a mistake."

"But you didn't, I did. I let myself be influenced by everything that is wrong in this society, and that's why I'm disappointed in myself. But you, my beautiful kind wife, just did what was right, and I'm proud of you. You are not selfish, god you are nothing like that. You do so much for this family, I don't know what came over me to say something as barbaric as that."

"Anthony…" Y/n sighed, not knowing what to say. Her husband, in turn, seemed to have relaxed when Y/n finally called him by his name and not his title.

"I love you. I married you because I love who you are and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want our children to be as kind as you, and we can raise them to be good people, who help others. I'm sorry for the way I treated you."

Y/n remained silent but let a small smile appear on her face. Anthony also realized that they were better off with each other and took a step forward.

"I will kneel and beg for your forgiveness."

"What are you waiting for?" she teased.

Although she wasn't expecting it, Anthony actually lowered himself to his knees at her feet, looking at her in amusement but also with sincerity. "My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I will not repeat my mistakes again. I love you and how fierce you are. Now, will you please forgive me?"

"I don't know, Anthony, maybe I need something more convincing." she said, closing her eyes when she felt her husband lift her dress a little to place small kisses on her legs.

"I'm all yours, Y/N. For the rest of my days."

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter

|Summary: Your first encounter with Armando; based off of that one scene from bad boys ride or die. | Warnings: Getting shot at/slight suggestive language/Curse words/Slight Movie Spoilers | Trope: One sided interest or Enemies to Lovers| Notes: Hopefully you guys enjoy it's my first-time writing a x reader. | (Y/N/N=Your Nickname)

Here's all the parts I have so far: 1 2 3 4 5 6

______________________________________________________________

After seeing the news about your dad, Uncle Mike, and some guy, you decided to leave work early. Confused on why there all the sudden wanted fugitives,you quickly drive over to Dorns place knowing that he’ll have answers.

Parking your car, you grab your purse and make your way towards his lake house. Since you hang out with him and Kelly 24/7 outside of work, you just walk in without knocking.    Which was a mistake on your end because not even a second later you’re being shot at, and you could hear a few people yell in shock.  Dropping to the floor you curse and yell "It's me stop fucking shooting it’s me Y/N!”  Looking up you see Kelly pointing the gun at the place you were just standing at with a shock expression.  “Girl what the hell you got going on” you said, scared to stand up.  Lowering her gun she said “OMG, Y/N, I’m so so—” Before she could finish you hear “Oh lord, you shooting at my baby!", recognizing the voice you look around to spot your father Marcus, running towards you with a worried look.

As he’s checking over you, you hear him sigh with relief after seeing you were fine. " Dad? what the fuck is going on!", standing up you dust off your nurse uniform, with a confused expression. 

Looking around the room you noticed shocked expressions from Dorn and Kelly who had put her gun down. Spotting Uncle Mike and the man that was with him on the news your eyes squint even more, Tryna put two to two together.    “Y/N/N, aren’t you supposed to be at work, "Marcus says confused on why his daughter was there.  Still shaking up from being shot at you say, “I was at work but when I was making my rounds with my patients, I seen you guys on the news ......but shit! I should be asking the questions! why are you, Uncle Mike and this dude, wanted fugitives …. matter of fact," turning towards the man, "Who are you?”.    Seeing the man smirk he says," Someone you can get well acquainted with.”  Just as you’re about to say something smart, your dad cuts in dramatically "Aye hell nah man! No hitting on my daughter, Mike get your son!” 

Shocked you run your eyes over the Latino man which you can now see have some of Mike's features, “Uncle Mike since when you have a son, and why the hell is he dressed up like a redneck.”  Running your eyes frantically over their forms you back up while pointing your hands at them and say, “matter of fact why are you all dress up like that.”  Feeling your dad pull you aside to calm you down, he explains everything that happened these past few days.    After getting the run down on what was going on, you rub at your eyes with a stressed sigh." So that’s Armando," you said shaking your head "I would’ve pulled my gun out as well if I’ve seen him, dad didn’t he almost kill you and Uncle Mike!", you said feeling frustrated about the situation.  “Y/n,I know this is awkward, but he has evidence to prove that Captain Conrad is innocent.”  Sighing again “Okay, fine but if he tries some shit just know Imma make him taste the rainbow.”  Hearing laughter you look back to see the Latino leaning against the kitchen counter looking at you with a smirk on his face.  Seeing your father look at you with a don’t do it expression made you huff and ignore Armando’s laughter.    Before you could move to grab your purse off the floor your dad stops you again and whispered, "How long Kelly and Dorn been messing around, "letting out a short laugh you say, “For a minute now”  Seeing your father smirk, and send a look to Mike, you knew they were up to no good but chose to ignore it.

Walking to the door to grab your purse and its spilled contents you feel eyes on you, gazing up you see Armando watching you with an unreadable expression. Rolling your eyes you pick up the rest of your stuff, but as you reach for your lip gloss, a hand grabs it.    Looking up your face to face with the Latino himself, annoyed you extend your hand out, while raising an eyebrow.  Watching his amused expression, you sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Boy if you don’t give me my stuff,Imma punch you in the throat." Hearing him chuckle made you more agitated, but you kept your cool. As he holds out the gloss to you with a smirk you huff and reach out to snatch it, only for him to pull it back in a teasing manner.

Looking at him as if he’s grown two heads, you’re about to cuss him out when he says”Demasiado bonita para una boca como esa”.  Furrowing your eyebrows you say “What?”    Armando’s smirk widens as he says, “I said to pretty for a mouth like that.”  Scoffing you snatch your lip gloss out his hands, putting it in your purse as you stand up and say, “First of all, my mouth is only like this because you almost killed my dad not too long ago, and secondly I can say whatever the fuck I want cause last I checked imma grown women.”  Watching his eyes glance down at your body, you hear a low whistle, "You sure are, but if you ever wanna fix that mouth of yours, "he pauses allowing his pretty brown eyes to trail back up to yours,”aquí estaré mami” (I’ll be here mommy) 

Shocked slightly at his boldness, you say “Boy if you don’t get out of m---,” but before you could finish, he was called over by Mike. At first Armando ignores him and continues to admire you until your dad says, “Boy get your ass over here," which made you break eye contact with him and look away.  

Glancing back up you couldn't help but admire his physique as well but as he reaches the others by the computer set up. He glances back to see you staring which resulted in him sending you a wink. Rolling your eyes you turn away with a smirk," You your daddy son for sure," you say to yourself with a smile.

_____________________________________________________________

Notes: Let me know if you guys want a part 2 :) and pls go see the movie it's so good

[greatmistakes]

Dad Bucky Barnes

Summary: Bucky and you give a talk to your daughter after her being called to the Principal’s office.

Note: No use of y/n or specifications of the character. Drabble inspired by this gif and my love for the idea of Bucky as a father.

Also, my main language is not English. If there’s any mistake please let me know kindly 🥰

“So… how was school today, Becca?” Bucky tried stating the conversation. You were silent, collecting your thoughts and sanity, after receiving the call from the principal.

Your daughter, Rebecca, was called in to the principal’s office because she almost hit a classmate of her. Apparently she was about to get in a fight with a boy. If it wasn’t for her teacher, the poor kid would probably had left with a red cheekbone or something like that.

“It was… not great.” She said from her car seat in the back row.

Okay, at least she’s not trying to lie about it.

“Really? How so?” You continued, trying your best to sound as normal and collected as possible.

“Hmm… the pincipal talk to me.” She was waddling with her tiny hands while looking down at them. Such a cute little copy of you.

“What for? Something good?” Bucky tried to get more information from her before you slammed the breaks anxiously waiting for her to explain.

He regretted not being the one on the wheel.

“Mmm… not really. I… I did something that Ms. Medina and the pincipal say is not good.”

That made your eyes immediately look at her through the rearview mirror. Thankfully you were at a stop sign and you didn’t have the necessity to hit the breaks.

Before you could say anything, Bucky spoke. Trying to keep the peace.

“Oh? So you think you did something good?”

“Well yeah, Gale is a bad boy. He needs to be better.” Rebecca was more confident while explaining now.

“A bad boy huh? What makes him a bad kid?” Her father continued investigating.

“He bothers my friend. He pulls her hair when Ms. Medina not looking and he always push her in playglound time.” Her tiny arms were crossed, showing she was mad while remembering all this kid did.

“And what did you do, Rebecca?” You asked. Thankfully almost home.

“I told him to stop, many times. And he not stop!”

“And what happened after he didn’t stop?” Your husband continued.

“I was mad. And I want Gale to be good and I push him. And then I go to hit him but Ms. Medina says stop and to go to talk to the pincipal.” She said so fast she even got her eyes glossy.

You arrived to your home’s driveway just in time.

“You wanted to hit him? Why Rebecca? That is not how you solve problems, you know that.” You said, no longer containing your self and looking back at her once you stopped the car.

“But he a bad boy! Daddy always hits and fights bad mans!” Rebecca tried her parents to make sense.

Well she’s not wrong. You and Bucky look at each other and sigh.

“Becca… you can’t just go around wanting to hit people… that’s not… you just can’t do it.” Bucky tries to explain while getting out of the car to help her daughter out.

“But daddy you hit and fight! And then bad mans are good mans.” Her pouted lips and tone showed how much she didn’t understood what she did wrong.

Bucky couldn’t resist that little baby cute face when he opened the door. He almost gave in and left the conversation there, but he sighed and placed his arms on his hips while trying to find a way yo explain. Thankfully you came to his rescue.

“Baby, remember that Daddy has to do a lot of work before going to stop bad guys. And that’s what he does, prevent them from harming others. Once words and reasoning does not work, your dad just tries to stop the bad men to make more harm.”

“But I tried talk to Gale.” At this point, tears were rolling down her eyes, making both Bucky’s and your hearts tight with regret for causing those tears in a way.

Bucky, finally giving up, piked her daughter up from her car seat and hugged her tight while soothing her.

“Princess, its okay. We understand that you did what you thought was right.”

“Yeah, you are a great friend trying to defend your classmate. We are very proud of you being a good friend.” You swiftly dried her tears on her chubby cheeks with your thumb. “Just remember that it is important you always remember that violence is not the answer.”

“You can always talk to your teacher and to us. And if the teacher can’t solve it, we are going to do everything in our power to help you and your friend. We will always listen and help you, no matter what.” Bucky adds, moving her daughter so that he can carry her with his right arm.

“You pomise?” Her eyes finally stop crying while hearing that.

“I promise baby. I’ll tell you this, mommy and I will go to talk to Ms. Medina and the principal tomorrow morning and help your friend out. That sounds good?”

“Yes, thank you daddy. Thank you mommy. Im sowy.” The three of you share a hug, still at your house’s driveway but not caring one bit.

“Oh my sweet girl, we know you are sorry.” You left a sweet kiss on her forehead. “You now know better and you will continue to be that sunshine friend you are.”

“We love you, Becky.” Bucky says while giving her a noisy kiss on her cheek that makes her laugh. “So much.”

[onsomenewsht]

I've got peace and I've got love

About a surprise for your birthday even if you hate your birthday

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 for anyone who needs to feel celebrated

Birthdays are a complicated matter.

You don’t hate them, no one really does.

People should be loved loudly, their mere presence on Earth should be reason enough to celebrate them.

You care about your family and your friends, baking cakes and inflating balloons and dressing up for a themed party are not a problem - you’re the first one to arrive and the last to leave.

Celebrating your birthday though? Hell, no.

For most, it doesn’t make sense.

A day in a whole year when anyone is entitled to be under the biggest spotlight, getting gifts and all the wanted attention. Yet, you’d rather hide in the remotest corner of the planet than hear someone sing “happy birthday” to you.

Despite the insistence and the repeated attempts over the years, your mother has finally accepted that you don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Your best friend has accepted that you’ll avoid a surprise party like the plague. Everyone who knows you, knows it.

Alexia included.

At least she knows now, after last year.

The two of you got together just shy of three months before your birthday. Bless her good heart, she thought a surprise ambush might be appreciated.

She’s not going to make the same mistake twice in a row, but she wants to do something.

“You told me she hates birthdays”, Alba points out, a bit confused, sipping her coffee as if her sister isn’t in the middle of an inconclusive rant.

“She hates her own, not birthdays in general”

“I still think you should just buy her a nice present, wish her a happy birthday and move on like she asked you to do”

“It seems so, I don’t know, incomplete?”, the blonde tries to explain, “How do I make sure I show how much I appreciate her if I can’t celebrate her?”

“You better celebrate her every day, not just on the birthday–”

“I do it, idiot!”

Alexia is quick in her jab, but thankfully the younger girl is used to her attitude by now.

Cup saved from any spill, Alba barely has enough patience to give another, simple pearl of wisdom, “So do it like any other day, but, you know, on her birthday”

It’s good advice, even if she’d never admit it.

Alexia spends most of her day off plotting, her free time during the week before your birthday completely taken over by careful planning and prep.

You can tell immediately that something is off, but you let it slide because she’s cute when she’s on a mission, and you don’t really want to spoil her fun.

At the stroke of midnight, like a mischievous fairy godmother, your best friend calls you to sing a personalized rendition of “Die, Die My Darling” like every year since you’re sixteen and think you’re oh-so-funny.

Your mother sends a present from the entire family, along with a picture of a cake you’re not going to eat but you’re glad they’ll enjoy in your name. Alexia’s mother and sister send flowers, and you have to reassure your girlfriend that it’s a genuinely appreciated sentiment.

Said girlfriend kisses you for every year spent on this Earth and then moves on, as if nothing happened. As if nothing is going to happen.

It’s suspicious, really suspicious.

The day passes by without any major incident.

At work just a few colleagues know it’s your birthday, they politely hand you a card with bad jokes written all over it. You mindlessly send the same three reactions at every text message, nonetheless appreciating everyone who remembered and took the time to wish you a happy birthday. A kind waitress adds a slice of dessert as you pick up take-out at your favourite Mexican place, probably prompted by Alexia when she ordered over the phone and sent you to the restaurant.

Guard down, you open the door to your girlfriend’s apartment, still not connecting the dots.

Thank the goddesses and gods above for that nice waitress, because what you find inside is definitely a first and the food wouldn’t have survived the surprise if not for the well-secured package.

Soft music - that, to your shame, you only realise too late is your favorite record - resonates through the room, which is filled with dozens of floating balloons reaching the ceiling.

You take a few tentative steps inside, noticing pictures carefully tied to each string with numbers scribbled on the corners.

Snaps of the past year, memories so simple in their significance you sometimes fail to give a good measure of. Dinners out with friends, an unflattering portrait of an early morning during the summer, the first time holding your niece. You linger over a photo of you and Alexia talking on Mapi’s couch, neither of you looking at the camera, as it’s clear you had eyes only for each other.

“I’ve never seen this one”, you whisper, emotion thick in your voice.

Your girlfriend is leaning on the further wall of the entrance, a confident stance failing to hide a note of nervousness. The way her hands are buried in the pocket of old sweatpants and her eyes are studying every single macro-expression shifting on your face are a clear tell for you.

"Ingrid sent it to me some times ago”

“It’s beautiful”

“It is”, she agrees easily, still not daring to come closer.

Alexia’s gaze drops as soon as you notice there’s a handwritten message on the back of every photo, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You take the time to read each one attentively, smiling at her thoughtfulness and the care she put into all the moments chosen. People and occasions that hold meaning for you, no matter how big or small. You feel love in every single one.

“You put a lot of thought into this”

“I had to sacrifice a couple of good ones”, she mumbles, almost upset with herself.

The commitment to matching the number of pictures to your age it’s impressive, you have to admit.

A burst of laughter fills the entire apartment, Alexia finally meeting your gaze and taking in how moved you’re by her surprise.

The fear of overstepping had been like an annoying voice, whispering in her ear as she scribbled on the back of the photos or tried to wrap gifts without running out of patience or tape.

“Do you like it?”, her doubt creeping in her voice.

“I don’t hate it”, you joke, still eager to ease her worries, “No one has ever put this much thought or effort into– I don’t know, celebrating my birthday, I guess”

“You deserve to be celebrated”

You take the few steps to fill the gap between you two, food forgotten somewhere behind, and throw yourself into her already open arms.

“Thank you”

“I love you”

The kiss you share is a clear enough answer. Sometimes, it’s not even necessary to spell it out - action speaks louder than words, they say. She holds you for as long as you need, music still playing softly in the background.

“Is this a good moment to mention that you have to open as many presents as you have in years?”

“Alexia!”

[fictionalsweethearts]

ENDURE, TAKE, OWN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: As you take control of your pleasure, Sevika reveals memories that still hurt.

Contains: hurt/comfort, soft!sevika, confessions, kissing, strap-on, vulnerability.

This a sequel of this fic, in case you wanna check it out. Enjoy!

"Huh, I don't remember..." Sevika said. "It happened ages ago."

"Are you calling yourself an elder right now?" you teased her, standing behind her, running your hand through her black strands. "How old were you?"

"Uhm... I dunno, seventeen?"

"Seventeen and sneaking girls into your room?"

"It didn't happen in my bedroom, doll." Sevika grinned just a bit, as if the emotion of the moment had suddenly seized her again, just as it had twenty-three years ago. "It happened in a warehouse where I used to work."

Sevika seemed to go over the events in her mind, she could still smell the alcohol and the aged wood, the girl's perfume, the taste of tobacco. Just the memory made her happy somehow, the expectation and the amazement she felt within those four walls was liberating, as she found herself in some sort of awakening.

"You see… I was still pretty lost when I was seventeen, I made a lot of bad decisions, I met people I shouldn't have hung out with," she explained. "The arguments with my old man were a daily thing, I was kicked out of the house many times. I don't regret it, though."

A gentle breeze blew through the window, and by then you were already running a brush through Sevika's locks. Seeing her with her hair down softened her features in a way you hadn't expected.

"I started working in a warehouse for the Barral Twelve company."

"Wasn't it the owner of that company who…?"

"Who killed himself in the main square? Yes, that same one. Those were different times, people were more… showy." Sevika sighed. "I worked double shifts, just to keep a roof over my head and not come back home with my tail between my legs, like my father expected. I used to steal things from the warehouse, mostly booze. It was more fun to work drunk."

"You drove the company into bankrupt then." you joked.

"Probably." Sevika chuckled, followed by a soft hum as you brushed her hair. "What are you doing?"

"You always wear that boring half ponytail, I thought… I'd change your look. For tonight."

"Just don't make me look like a schoolgirl."

"I won't." you smiled, starting to divide her hair into three sections. "I'm listening."

And Sevika continued.

"There was this girl I worked with, Nina," the woman continued, settling back in her chair as you did her hair. "She was older, I think. Twenty? I don't remember, but I do remember that we would sneak into the back rooms to smoke and drink whatever was on the shelves."

"So your first time happened in a warehouse?"

"Romantic, isn't it?" Sevika shrugged. "I'd kissed girls before, it was fun, but I was interested in what else she could offer."

You started braiding her hair, so delicately that Sevika felt a tickle on her scalp. "I remember taking off that ashen shirt of hers, she wasn't wearing a bra. I tried to suck on her nipples, she liked it…"

Sevika paused to review the events. "It must have happened during the break, we were in a hurry. I wasn't ashamed, rather curious cause I always liked her, she was pretty. Just maybe too much of a junkie for my taste."

"Junkie?"

"The white-nosed ones."

"Geez."

"Indeed." she agreed. "I remember her pushing me up against the wall, shoving her hands into my pants, and the rest happened in a minute or two. She covered my mouth when I came."

"And that was it?"

"First times are just that," Sevika said simply. "They're awkward, fleeting… even borning sometimes."

And that doesn't mean they were worth forgetting, they were steps to step on in an endless staircase of learning and mistakes. Sevika didn't see the first encounters as a problem, but rather as a time to identify what her body had to offer. After that encounter, she wasn't afraid to seek contact with girls in clubs, roommates, neighbors, waitresses or brothel workers. She was trying out the sexual diversity of Zaun, from shy women to shameless ones who enjoyed a slap in the middle of oral or a hand placed on their throat. Sevika accepted everything, in order to learn, in order to feel in control of what her body provoked in others. And she loved to own that power.

"Did you see her again?" you asked then, undoing the braid when you saw that it had become crooked. Not that Sevika was complaining, the feeling of your hands in her hair was delightful.

"No, she died. Overdose."

"Shit."

"Over time you learn to read people better, Nina had been seeing that coming for a long time."

Sevika had learned not to get attached to people whose lives hung in the balance. Death lurks around every corner in Zaun, in the form of drugs, crime and incidents, so seeing her peers succumb to one seemed more of a probability than an isolated case. Many times it was she who was dancing with death, dedicating herself to gangs from an early age, playing with substances that she herself did not know how to handle or exposing herself to Zaunian gases that competed to ruin her lungs with the cigarettes that she smoked day and night. Sevika's body remained firm as a rock, rooted to the land that saw her birth and her greatest tool to carry out a cause that gave her no respite.

Until the cause itself snatched one of her arms.

"I've never dared to ask you," you said after a moment of silence, your fingers gently braiding her hair. By then Sevika couldn't stop sighing.

"About?"

"The arm."

This time Sevika didn't sigh, but instead let out a subtle grunt.

"What do you wanna know?"

"About the experience… if you want to talk about it."

"I'd rather not." she admitted, noticing the way you flinched. "It's not a fairytale, doll. Losing a limb it's something you never quite understand."

"I know I couldn't fully understand it myself." you assured, now hesitant. "I'm sorry, I'm prying."

"What you wanna hear? The pain? The months it took me to get used to a life without an arm?"

You pulled your hands away from her hair, thinking you pushed the subject too far. Only for Sevika to sigh for the thousandth time and draw your hands into her hair again. "Alright... My arm was severely burned after a hex blast. It was completely unsalvageable from shoulder to hand."

And the rest of the story flowed so easily from her lips, that Sevika thought she had been waiting for someone to ask her so she could let out all the intrinsic thoughts she had been holding back since that incident seven years ago. "I still have the scapula and the clavicle, so inserting a prosthesis was possible. The first few days were hard to say the least, the phantom pains kept bothering me in the mornings and the pain in my neck didn't let up."

"Neck pain?"

"The weight of the prosthesis. This thing isn't light."

"I can imagine…"

"I never thought you could mourn a part of your body." Her expression darkened, the subject was as thorny as always. She soon felt the itch for a cigarette, something to somatize the emotions that were surging. She reached for the package on the coffee table. "You mind?"

"Course not." You assured, leaning down to light the cigarette between her lips. Sevika explained some details between smoke clouds, she certainly didn't allow herself to suffer from the accident as much as she would have liked. If the cause took her arm, she would continue with it until it took from her another or her life. Her priorities were ans still are different and to this day she believes that the loss of her arm was collateral damage.

"That doesn't make it any easier, Sev…" you whispered, wrapping your arms around her neck.

"It makes it more bearable," Sevika said. "Life down here is not about making it easier, but more bearable. I have learned to endure and soon enough my missing arm turned into an inconvenience only."

You processed her words in silence. Sevika seemed a woman so resigned to her place in the world that whatever she had to sacrifice for the cause was not a motive for sorrow, but rather for resilience. She believed in the power of overcoming situations, in moving forward and leaving behind what was necessary, and in the meantime, allowing herself fleeting moments of pleasure between gambling and women. Just to keep endure and give her tired soul a brief break.

"Have you realized you act just like a soldier?" You said then, making Sevika chuckle.

"Fuck off." You leaned down to kiss the blue scars on her cheek and neck, softening her frown. "Did you finish my hair, pretty girl?"

"Yeah, you look so pretty."

"Don't use that word on me."

But as soon as she looked at the mirror you brought her, the word no longer sounded so strange. You had made her hair into a loose braid, able to soften her features to the point that Sevika saw for a moment that seventeen-year-old girl, smoking inside the warehouse and willing to do anything to bring dignity to the land in which she lived.

She kept such thoughts to herself, of course, but you felt it in her gray gaze. She liked it. "Enough talking," she said then, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray. "Let's save the mushiness for bed."

-◊-

You felt confident that night, shame no longer tied you down, nor did fear. You felt in control of your own skin and capable of transmitting such courage to Sevika. From the first kiss she was willing to be the one explored on this occasion, and you were grateful for her willingness to allow it. Sevika put her metal hand behind her head, the flesh one caressing your cheek as you spread kisses over her chest and abdomen, descending with tortuous slowness but giving her a view worthy of admiration. You were focused on each kiss, each touch, your thumbs embedded in Sevika's hips, massaging in circles before moving her legs apart, placing a kiss on her inner thigh.

"You have such pretty skin." you whispered.

"Flattering me now?"

"Stating the truth."

Having Sevika naked in front of you was not an opportunity to waste. She didn't usually strip completely, there was something about her that kept her on guard, you didn't know what yet. You thought it was her constant state of alert, she learned to never let her guard down. But today her tan skin was visible and within your reach and you couldn't help but shower it with kisses.

Sevika frowned, meaning she was liking what you were doing. By now you had explored the expanse of her skin and your lips were resting on her breasts. You sucked on her dark nipple, your other hand squeezing the other and you heard her sigh. Sevika followed your every move intently, her hand cupping the back of your neck to signal you to continue, and you caught her hint, taking your hand betwen her legs and rubbing gently, you felt a pang of pride by sensing how wet she was.

"To think that you barely dared to grab my ass before," the woman grinned. "You've improved."

You looked at her, leaning down to give her a kiss on the lips before spreading more on her cheek and the path of scars down to her neck. They were blue, Sevika hadn't used shimmer that night, in fact, you've seen her sober more frequently these days.

"As far as you allow me, Vika." you purred.

"Go downstairs, then." Sevika whispered, cupping your cheek as her eyes lit up. "I know you want it."

You felt a pang of anticipation stir in your gut, it was what you were aiming for and luckily Sevika read your mind before you asked her. You nodded, giving her another kiss before tracing your path from her chin to her pubis again, your breath brushing her pussy with a subtle tickle.

You scattered kisses around, patiently. If Sevika had taught you anything, it was not to rush. Her fingers tangled in your hair with a certain affection, she bent one of her legs as you moved them apart, allowing you better access. "Slow… as slow as you want, doll."

With the pad of your tongue, you spread a long lick from the entrance to the bud, drawing a subtle moan from Sevika's lips and giving you that dose of approval you were looking for. With the tip you traced circles, exploring the folds gently and then sucking on the hood, enjoying the musky taste.

"Just like that, pretty girl." Sevika whispered.

"You taste so good…" you moaned, lying on your stomach as you pulled her legs over your shoulders.

"Getting comfy, are we?"

"I deserve it, don't you think?"

Sevika smiled. "Yeah... you do."

You reveled in the sensations of her, the thought of pleasing her alone, it pleased you. There was something about Sevika’s physicality that drove you crazy. Maybe it was the subtle moans or the way her hips moved against your mouth, or the way her fingers tangled in your locks and asked for more. She wasn’t afraid to give instructions; slower, faster, smooth your tongue, yes so good, oh fuck… higher, suck there, ah shit. And you followed each one of them, committed to her pleasure as much as she was committed to yours.

"Feasting on me, don't you?" she said, followed by a loud hiss. "Look where teaching you got me, I should have done it a long time ago."

And you reached out your hand to trace circles on her abdomen, her muscles tightening under your palm as Sevika moaned, gritting her teeth as if your touch was painful, and it was so slow that it actually hurt. She reached for your hand, bringing it to her tit and you squeezed. “Keep it like that…” she panted.

Sevika wasn't loud when it came to cumming, she was as measured as always, she usually swallowed her moans or smothered them in a growl, followed by a long sigh as her whole body relaxed. If only you could take the weight off her shoulders that she's been carrying for as long as she can remember, if only you could make her feel as good as she does now all the time.

You placed one last kiss on her pussy, tracing an upward path back to her lips and kissing her with so much affection that it was mistaken for devotion; the truth is that you felt both for her. Sevika cupped the back of your neck, caressing it while her other hand brushed a lock of hair out of your eyes. "You've done very well," she whispered against your mouth.

With one look you knew it was time for what you feared and anticipated equally. Your eyes landed on the strap next to the bed and you nodded. "Nervous?"

"A bit."

"We've already practiced, you'll take to it just fine."

You stepped back, letting Sevika leave the bed. You could feel your heart racing, watching her put on the piece calmly, almost solemnly. How many times has she done the same thing with other women? How many times has she repeated this same ritual? Her past intrigued you as much as it made you sick with jealousy.

Sitting back on your heels, you clutched the fabric of your slip dress, suddenly believing yourself to be just as incapable as the first time. Your breathing became shallow, your muscles tensing as you waited for the typical pain you knew and hated, retreating down that path of shame. Until you felt a kiss on your shoulder.

"Don't go there, I know what you're thinking," Sevika whispered, settling behind you as she spread kisses across your exposed skin. Her hands played with the valleys of your hips and waist, you felt the caress of her breath on your nape.

"It will hurt."

"No, it won't." she insisted. "I won't let it hurt."

"Sev."

"Shh..." Sevika slipped her hands under your slip dress, tracing from your hips to your abdomen, inviting you to let go of your traitorous thoughts. She didn't like to see you hesitate, not when she'd seen you succeed before. Fear would get you nowhere, never. She carefully pulled the dress off, leaving you naked before an accusatory mirror in front of the bed. That mirror spared no one, it showed you what you wanted to see, and now you saw a woman too ashamed of herself for her own good, and behind you, a ruthless woman who seemed to have the world in the palm of her hand.

If only you could take from the world what Sevika claims without flinching.

You sighed, parting your legs once Sevika brought her fingers to your core and rubbed carefully. The cold metal of her other hand squeezed one of your breasts and you closed your eyes. You would like to give yourself into her arms and forget the sorrows of your flesh and your conscience for once, just once.

"Do you want to try from behind?"

"I'd like to see your face."

"Alright." she nodded, slowly turning you around, your back meeting the soft sheets underneath as Sevika gave you another kiss.

The strap-on extension wasn't too long, you felt the weight of the piece on your abdomen as Sevika kissed you, and you carefully tested the phallus with your hand. Sevika then brought it against your entrance and you flinched.

"Vika."

"Just grinding, doll, easy…" she whispered, rubbing the tip against you. "I've applied lub, it won't hurt."

And the truth was, you were soaking yourself.

You clung to her back nervously, hearing her pant against your ear as she applied pressure to your entrance, briefly, with no intention other than to soften your ill-used muscles. You had to breathe, you had to breathe, it's what you learned and it's what allowed you to take Sevika the last time you came on her fingers.

You counted to three, feeling the tip push through, you counted to fifteen and you had taken half of it, you counted to twenty-five and let out a whimper.

"Should I stop?"

"No." you begged. "Keep going."

Breath, breath, breath. Endure, learn to endure.

"Doll." whispered Sevika. "You're trembling."

"Just keep going." you insisted.

Be nice, endure.

And you closed your eyes as you felt the contact of her hips against yours, Sevika buried inside you completely. Only then did you allow yourself to cry.

"Hey, baby." she whispered, caressing your cheek. "No, not like that."

It was as soon as a couple of tears rolled down your cheeks that your muscles relaxed and you took her completely. You held on, just like you promised yourself. Sevika kissed your wet cheeks, moving her hips just a little, noticing how your lips parted and you gasped. "Does it hurt?"

"No." you whispered.

The truth is that you felt full, the pressure present but less and less invasive. Sevika began to move slowly, her hips brushing against yours, your walls adjusting to the phallus as you moaned subtly. It was a dynamic of breathing, questions and moans in response. Do you like it like this? Slower? You're doing so well, keep going like that, doll, I knew you would. And soon your hands wandered over her back, over her locks, over her chest, delighting in the extension of her skin, in her warmth, in her hardness. You were so present that your mind had fallen silent.

"Yes… please…" you gasped. "There, there."

"God, you're so pretty."

You felt like you owned something you thought was not yours, a pleasure that was rightfully yours but that you were afraid to claim. You thanked her for letting you have it back, for giving you back the ability to claim it.

"Thank you." You whispered once Sevika stopped to give you a break, cradling you against her chest and leaving a kiss on your temple. She was breaking down walls with you herself, which was both exciting and terrifying.

Sevika laid back on the bed, watching you straddle her lap with such confidence that she smiled. Her hand rested on your hip, you rose up on your knees as you guided the phallus to your entrance. But you stopped.

"Can I take it off?" you asked suddenly, and Sevika didn't know what you were talking about until you pointed at her arm.

"Why?" she asked.

"I've never seen you without it…"

The flicker of terror that crossed her gaze as you unbuckled the strap holding the base of the prosthesis took you by surprise for a moment. You never considered that Sevika's confidence depended so much on that piece, and allowing you to take it off was her way of telling you that she trusted you. And you felt honored.

"Just keep any comment to yourself." she grunted, as you slolwy disarmed the prosthesis.

Being vulnerable was one of Sevika's limits, until she found such affection and comfort in your gaze that she melted before you. You removed the arm, placing it on the table next to the bed, followed by the base and uncovering a stump that Sevika hid with her hand.

"Sev." you mumbled.

"Don't... don't touch it." she spat, her defenses went back up and you didn't argue with it.

"I won't." you stated, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

Sevika laid back down and you took her inside you again, letting out a sweet, controlled gasp. The sensation was different and unexplored, so you began to move your hips slowly. Sevika reached for one of your breasts, you looked at her with your lips parted and sucked between your teeth, taking it to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"You look good down there." you purred.

"You've discovered something tonight." she agreed.

Your breaths lengthened, your mouth no longer holding back moans, you wanted to be heard, by her, by everyone. You leaned in to kiss Sevika and continued, you felt in control and you loved it. By then the reflection in the mirror was not accusatory but revealing, you looked agitated, pleased, whole and present. Your reflection looked back at you.

"Fuck." you moaned as Sevika rubbed her thumb against your bud. "You always know when to touch me."

"Keep moving…" Sevika growled.

You nodded, your eyes focused on Sevika's gaze, on her dark lips, on the gap between her teeth, on her furrowed eyebrows and her blue scars. You wanted to cover her face with kisses. You pulled on her arm, making her sit up, capturing her lips in a panting kiss. You took it upon yourself to touch your clit, you cared more about having her close. "I feel so good." you confessed.

"I can see it." whispered Sevika between kisses.

"I love you." you blurted out, Not as a secret, but as a confession that you openly wanted her to hear. You didn't want to keep anything to yourself.

Sevika responded with a kiss, letting you ride out your orgasm which came out in whimper, falling onto her chest as your body surrendered to the torrent of oxytocin that flowed into you. Suddenly everything was silent, everything was okay, there was no evil in the world, just pure love, just Sevika, just you.

"My braid came undone," Sevika whispered after a long silence.

"I'll braid it again."

You looked at her with full eyes, Sevika seemed to be reading something in you that remained a mystery. Your eyes landed on her stump and she wanted to hide. "I've never seen you as naked as right now." you said, laying a kiss there.

And judging by the way Sevika's body relaxed, you knew she agreed with you.

-◊-

taglist: @bibi4exe @verseandchapterr

[wttcsms]

did i ever tell you guys about my delinquent!iwa with a heart of gold x rich girl & oikawa's younger sister!reader?? where tooru and reader are the sheltered children of one of the wealthiest families in the prefecture meanwhile iwaizumi, who means well, can't help but run with "the wrong crowd" — they're not really all that bad. they're just boys. they're his childhood friends, of course he's sticking by them.

anyway, tooru, in typical tooru fashion, decides he wants to join their little group. your older brother has always been charming, so it's no surprise that he manages to endear himself to their little group. now your older brother is running around with the same delinquents your father criticizes at the dinner table. tooru never lets you join them, even if you beg and threaten to snitch (which you'd never do, and maybe that's why he doesn't take your threat seriously)

after a particularly nasty fight and everyone in the group has to scatter to flee from the cops, where does a bruised and battered iwa end up? hopping the gate to enter your parent's property, throwing rocks at your bedroom window. he thinks it's oikawa, but he knows he's made a mistake whenever you step out onto the balcony outside your bedroom. before he can run off, the fight he just got done with has finally taken its toll on his body and he finds himself knocking out onto the grass.

you drag him in. your parents are gone at one of their charity galas and it'll be a late night. you're home alone. you're home alone in your family's mansion, and it took all of your strength to drag this unconscious delinquent inside, and the marble floors are surely gonna get dirty, and—

—you patch him up.

you patch him up, and when he wakes up half an hour later, he's got hello kitty band-aids on and you're not letting him leave 'til he eats the ramen you made him. you're stubborn, just like your annoying older brother, so iwa begrudgingly eats the meal you took obvious care in making for him.

and somehow, he keeps finding himself coming back to you. sometimes under the guise of needing to see tooru, sometimes because you take a stern tone of voice different from your usual gentle cadence when you chastise him for getting roughed up & how if he refuses to take care of himself, at least let you apply some ointment to his cuts.

iwa knows he's in too deep, though, whenever he sees you taking care of a kitty one night.

"is that yours?" he asks, never having seen you with any pets. the kitten is cute, sure, but looks a little rough. skinnier than baby cats should be, that's for damn certain. looks almost like the strays 'round his neighborhood.

"nope. i saw her wandering around, looking all lost and lonely. she stops by occasionally, along with others."

"others?"

you nod, stroking the kitten's fur, smiling serenely as you watch her lap at the saucer of milk you provided. "there's a couple of dogs i pass by on my way to school." that explains why he once saw dog treats spill out of your school blazer pocket.

"you have a thing for taking in strays." he's joking, but his smile fades when you sadly answer him,

"yeah. but they never stay."

iwaizumi knows that in the eyes of your neighbors and the people in your social circle, he's your stray.

is he going to stay?

[steddieas-shegoes]

“any regrets? anything you’d do differently?”

eddie knows the interviewer is just doing her job, probably doesn’t even realize that’s the worst question she could ask. but the guys tense and the air gets thick and something shifts inside eddie’s chest.

“it’s been two years and i still haven’t apologized.”

the interviewer doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to. he’s not gonna explain more than that and he doesn’t care if people make their own connections and excuses.

maybe steve will hear it. maybe robin will. maybe dustin will convince steve to call him.

or maybe he was cryptic for nothing and steve will keep ignoring his calls. he used to think his timing sucked until mike let it slip that he lets all calls go to his answering machine to avoid picking up when eddie calls him.

eddie only calls on bad nights, if he’s drunk or high, or sometimes on the nights that could only be better if steve was by his side. eddie calls most nights.

the interview is done and eddie is being whisked away, getting berated by their publicist about his answer to a question that can never have a good one. the guys are pretending not to listen, but failing. eddie loves them for trying.

the next interview, he stays quiet, at least as much as he can get away with. he fakes a smile, a laugh, whatever it takes to seem like he didn’t just admit that he fucked up on live television.

they get to sleep in their own beds tonight, but tomorrow is the start of their radio show tour to promote their album. it’ll be two weeks long, hitting the major stations daily until they’ve answered all the hard hitting questions like if gareth snores or if they ever find time to eat healthy on tour.

but his bed is his least favorite place to sleep, and no amount of tossing and turning is gonna give him what he needs.

so he calls steve.

“harrington’s house, you’ve reached the harrington who actually lives here.”

eddie’s so shocked that steve answered he barely even registers his words.

“hello?” steve’s voice turns serious. “anyone there?”

“stevie?”

eddie shouldn’t have started with that, but he wasn’t in control of his body anymore.

steve hangs up.

somehow it’s worse than if he hadn’t answered at all.

but eddie is fine. he is.

he’s gonna close his eyes and go to sleep and maybe not dream about dying or fucking up the only good thing he ever had.

his phone rings and he’s almost certain he’s dreaming already.

“hello?”

“sorry i panicked.”

steve’s voice is like a reverb in an arena, sending chills down eddie’s arms.

“you’re not the only one.”

“but…you called me.”

“because you never answer.”

“so why call? if i’m never gonna answer.”

“because if you do answer, i can hear your voice.”

steve sits with that answer for a minute before he speaks.

“dustin played me the interview.”

“yeah.”

“was it me? was i your regret?”

how could steve think that? how could the man who saved his life ever believe he was anything less than a gift? in no universe would eddie regret steve.

“no. my regret is making you ever think that you could be a mistake.”

eddie should end it there, let steve marinate with that. he knows no amount of apologies will actually help, but he could give it a try anyway.

“i’m sorry i left when you needed me. i’m sorry i was selfish and chose to get out and leave you behind. and i’m sorry none of my sorries even matter because it’s too late.”

for a minute—yes, eddie counts— there’s silence. and then there’s a small shuffling sound and eddie’s almost sure that steve’s gonna hang up.

instead, steve sounds like he’s holding back tears when he speaks.

“are you gonna come back?”

eddie can’t. he can’t just put a pause on the band or any of their plans. it’s not fair to the guys or the fans or himself.

but he can do something he should’ve done two years ago.

“will you come with me?”

the question hangs in the air for what feels like forever. steve may say no. that’s part of why eddie didn’t even ask the first time. but he may say-

“yes.”

“you will?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“you stop trying to forget all the bad parts. the bad parts sucked, but they brought us together. running from them means running from me. at least hold my hand so i can run with you.”

eddie thinks maybe he could write a song about that.

and he thinks he’d like to hold steve’s hand while he does.

[hazashiovo]

Helloooo!! Can I request mako and bolín (seperate) being protective of their (s/o), thank you a lot<33

Ofc u can!

A/n: mako and Bolin have the most requests so far,I'm really glad tbh that people are submitting requests,keep em coming.i also added in Korra and Kuvira ,since this seems like a perfect imagine for them.

Genre: Fluff

Mako x reader, Bolin x reader, Kuvira x reader,Korra x reader (all separate)

Overprotective Lovers

Warnings: none.

Starting off with Mako,he's the kind of guy that doesn't take well to someone talking to you in some kind of mean way in front of him, especially if you're more a more naive person.

Even if you take care of yourself, he's still there making sure you're away from harms way.

If you ever get hurt or kidnapped,it's over for whoever did it, it's not like he's usually a calm person,but take away his favorite person and you got yourself a big problem to deal with.

Even when you're not exactly in danger, he's there. It's sweet really,but it can also be annoying when overdone.

You like being protected by him,but not all the time, he didn't like it when you talked to Korra, claiming since she's the avatar she would draw unnecessary attention over you and put you in complicated situations.

Of course you explain to him that you're a big girl and that you can watch over yourself,but he just can't understand it. {Sigh}.

Korra? Well she had her ups and downs. But she learned ,ok? Once you two got together ,this feeling that's she allways had grew stronger,her urge to protect you.

Of course she would blame it on the fact that she's the avatar,but really it was her being protective of you.

Even before dating her ,you knew this would draw a lot of attention to yourself, and potential enemies of the avatar would want to harm you. But that didn't stop you,after all you're free to love whoever you want even if it endangers you.

When Korra faced Amon she used to be Terrified something bad would happen to you, even her dreams would be hunted by dark images. She would see Amon preparing to take away your bending,but each time she would wake up before anything happened,in cold sweat,with you by her side.

If you're a light sleeper,you would assure her nothing happened to you,and that you're okay.

Even after she defeated Amon, more villains appeared,making Korra constantly worry about you. But one thing is sure, that she would always be there to protect you,and in case anything happens,to save you.

This boy is the most carefree of them all. He doesn't really have to worry that you would be kidnapped or hurt most of the time,but if it ever happens, either someone hurt you or something went wrong in the mission?

He's full boyfriend mode on. He wouldn't be like Korra or Mako, first thing he would do is bring you to safety, revenge not being his thing.

If you're okay ,that's what matters to him. But now if you're especially targeted by someone? He's not as chill as before. Especially since he recently learned how to lava bend, which makes him a pretty strong bender, definitely not the kind you would want to piss off by chasing around his girlfriend,nu uh.

Bolin knew it was a mistake to introduce you to his boss, Varrick.

That man would make flirty jokes with you,which always made Bolin roll his eyes and mock him quietly.

So what if he's smart and rich? You wouldn't like a prick like him.

Whenever Varrick got too close, your boy would be there to put distance between the two of you. It's not that he's jealous,but he knows how his boss is.

Yeah no. I doubt anyone would even try to threaten you while she's around.

After all the power and respect she gained, expect people to fear you just because you're with her. So mostly Kuvira doesn't have to worry that anyone is gonna try anything.

After all she made quite a name for herself.

Even so, being The Great Uniter's s/o came with it's disadvantages.

For example,if someone really wanted to hurt her,they would target you. You're her soft spot,and she knows it.

Yes,you have your personal guards picked by Kuvira herself. Just because she doesn't expect you to be attacked it doesn't mean she won't be prepared for it.

You're hers,and the world knows it.

.

.

A/n : I really enjoyed writing this,I might make another part with different characters :)

[afroslacks]

Hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but I was wondering if you could do something where Micheal during an interview for Sinners he accidentally lets it out that when building smokes character that he had to draw from his own experiences in fatherhood. Which shocks the public because no one knew he was married let alone had a kid.

So he decided to put out at one of the premieres with his wife (reader) and nearly one year old baby (baby was born during filming in 2024)

Sorry if that doesn’t make sense🥹

Sinner’s press tour is up and running. The cast has been everywhere for the last couple of days. Michael, Wunmi, and Hailee are seated across from a female journalist who just entered the building. The journalist sits down with a warm smile on her face and white flashcards in her hands.

“Hello everyone, you all look so good today!” she says warmly, hoping to make everyone feel comfortable.

Michael is seated in the middle between both actresses, nodding his head while adjusting his chain and the special watch that has a message engraved from you. He always wears the watch because it brings him comfort on days like this—days when he’s extremely busy and wishes he could be with you and your baby girl, who was born recently.

“Thank you, we’re happy to be here,” he replies with a beautiful smile, gesturing toward the journalist.

“Truly,” Wunmi adds softly, nudging Michael’s shoulder as a subtle signal of gratitude for actively engaging—even though she knows his mind is at home.

Hailee sits there smiling as she rocks back and forth with her legs crossed in her chair. The journalist clears her throat.

“Now that we’ve got pleasantries out of the way, let’s get started, shall we?”

All three actors agree silently.

The journalist asks, “So Michael, since you’re playing two different characters in this film, how were you able to differentiate the twins, specifically in their relationships with Annie and Mary? Because the relationships are completely separate from one another.”

Michael nods as he takes in her question, preparing his response.

“That’s a good question. Stack is the more impulsive, hot-headed twin, so you can imagine his relationships with women being the same. He’s seen as a womanizer—breaking women’s hearts and moving on. But it’s also seen as a front, because Mary is the woman he wants. He has to act a certain way to deny himself his desire for her. When they do get together, you can definitely feel the tension and passion between them.”

After the first half of his answer, he clears his throat before continuing.

“Smoke, on the other hand, is the calmer twin. He typically keeps to himself. The trauma they experienced impacted him a lot more, so he retreats emotionally. I wouldn’t consider him much of a womanizer, because the only woman who stole his heart is Annie. Their relationship is deeper—they have history, and he’s the father of her child. He welcomed fatherhood. I’m the same way—”

His eyes go wide, and he shuts his mouth the moment he realizes his mistake.

The journalist furrows her brows. “I’m sorry? What do you mean you feel the same?” she asks.

Michael mentally rolls his eyes, realizing he now has to talk his way out of the mess he just created.

Wunmi quickly steps in. “What he means is, since he eventually wants to become a dad, he’s ready for the idea of fatherhood. Right, Michael?” She turns to him, giving him a flawless save.

He perks up, smiling at the interviewers. “Of course! My bad, I’m just really tired right now, so the words are coming out a mess,” he explains.

The journalist glances between the cast members, unsure if they’re being honest. After a moment, she lets it go, understanding that people make mistakes.

“Oh, okay. For a second, I thought you were a father.”

Wunmi, Michael, and Hailee nervously laugh, trying to steer attention away from Michael’s slip-up.

One hour later, after the interview is posted, Michael’s words start circulating online.

You’re sitting at your mansion on the couch, watching television while fiddling with the large diamond on your finger. The baby sleeps quietly in the crib next to you. Your best friend sends you a link to the clip with a message that says: "Check it out."

Pressing the link, you watch the clip. You scoff, shaking your head.

“I know this nigga didn’t just open his mouth,” you mutter, typing a message to your husband telling him to call you as soon as he’s free.

You and Michael have been together for five years total—dating for two and married for three. You recently had your baby after waiting a while to enjoy each other’s company. You met at a work event and immediately hit it off, but decided to keep your romance out of the public eye so you could enjoy your relationship in peace. You both agreed to hold off on telling the public for as long as possible.

But… that might not be an option anymore.

As you sit on the couch, you scroll through the comments—and people are not letting that slip slide at all:

I knew he had a family. That’s why we don’t see him much.

Michael, let me find out you’re married. I’m gonna find your wife.

Oh no, I’m not sharing my man.

Hello, I’m the wife he has a secret family with. So y’all can back off—thank ya!

It don’t matter if you’re married—we can still make it work, baby.

Whoever he’s with is lucky. They get Smoke AND Stack.

Where is the wife? I’m trying to find her.

That’s just a few of the comments. You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart.

Your phone lights up with “Hubby” flashing on the screen. Swiping green, his face appears.

“Hey, baby,” he greets nervously, noticing your scowl.

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me. Michael, what the hell was that?” you ask, stepping into a quiet area of the house so the baby can keep sleeping.

“I’m sorry—I slipped up. I stopped myself as soon as I said it,” he apologizes, hating to see anything other than happiness and pleasure on your beautiful face.

You roll your eyes so hard they might fall out and hit the floor.

“You better do damage control. We agreed to keep this private.” The threat is crystal clear in your tone.

After a few moments of silence, he mutters, “Or… you could come with me to one of the premieres?”

You pause. Silence fills the air.

“Michael, are you serious right now?” you ask, brows furrowed.

He scoffs. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We agreed to be private to protect ourselves from the public. And now you want to throw that out?” You clarify to process what he’s saying.

“I know, baby. But I don’t wanna hide forever. I want to let the world know I’m taken and happy—so they’ll back off. We don’t have to be super public. Just let them know one good time, then keep it moving,” Michael confesses, hoping you’ll agree.

You sigh deeply. “Fine. But the baby can’t come—it’s too loud, and I don’t feel comfortable showing her.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says, smiling.

“I love you too, punk.”

[lbcreations-blog]

Yandere Alastor with daughter reader

A Stag and his Fawn

‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------

(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)

Masterlist

---------

Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.

When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.

Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)

Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).

If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.

If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.

Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.

But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)

Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.

Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.

(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)

Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.

The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.

Now the hotel's reactions ig

Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)

Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.

Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.

Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)

Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.

--------_______--------

I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK

I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa

Hope you enjoyed it

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

[walkingnearfoxes]

It's a Silly Name (Homelander x Reader Oneshot)

1.8k words. NSFW. Questionable established relationship dynamics with mildly dubious consent and dirty smut.

Who the hell came up with the name Gillman?

You are sitting on the couch in the Homelander's den, a blanket tossed over your legs to compensate for the freezing thermostat temperature your lover prefers. It’s unclear to you if he genuinely finds the coldness preferable to the heat, or if he’s using it as an excuse so you cuddle him for warmth. Presently, you don’t have to worry about that; the Homelander finally agreed to buy you blankets and he has his head nestled in your lap. 

The Homelander is furiously watching the news as you look through the paperwork for his next publicity stunt. Ashley attempted to hand the packet of paper to him a few hours ago, but his venomous glare had her turn to you instead. Unfortunately for all people involved, Stan Edgar had made it clear that this plan was not a negotiation. There's been some social media backfire recently for the Homelander being...well, himself, but more blatantly to the public eye. His numbers have “suffered,” dropping him far too close to not being America's favorite supe. The plan is to make a documentary about his childhood life to remind the public about his all-American values. The whole fiasco has turned the Homelander into a massive grump and lucky you, you get to deal with him the most often. 

The television is playing Victoria Neuman’s most recent takedown of him at a rally in DC. You don’t know why he insists on watching every bit of media that talks about him for good or bad, but he’s obsessed. Even when Neuman is doing everything in her power to turn the people against him, he can’t look away; you are the only one capable of turning his attention away from it. 

"I don't get how that's supposed to fix anything," Homelander mutters, referring to the planned movie scope in your hands. "Just rip it up."

"It's not...terrible," You say, ignoring his sneer. It is nowhere near in your job description to review PR for him, but anyone at Vought with a brain cell knows you’re the only way to negotiate him into things. You try, anyhow. "I mean, I get it. They're trying to remind the public of your humble origins."

"By humble, you mean a no-name asshole from Bumfuck, Midwest," He mutters. Only you can hear the hurt behind his snark. He loathes his fake story. Vought took the torture that was his real childhood and twisted it until the white lab walls were white picket fences. He still didn't tell you everything about that lab, about the “bad room” he mumbles about in his sleep, but every tiny glimpse he gives provides more of a window as to why he is the Homelander.

You reach down and slowly card your fingers through his hair. A few months ago, he would have flinched. Now, even while feeling grouchy, he hums under his breath and leans into your touch. You told him once he was like an overgrown house cat. The glare he had shot you only proved your point.

"I'm sorry," You speak softly as you pet his head. "They really should get your opinion on more of these things." 

"I know!" He whines, and you bite back a chuckle. "God, the baseball bullshit? Like I'd give a fuck about that game.”

You nod as you look back at the papers. The first page dictates the basics of the Homelander’s fake upbringing, assumedly for whatever poor soul will direct this mistake of a documentary. "The name they gave you is pretty ridiculous, too."

He laughs, bumping his head into your hand to get more of your scratches. "As generic as they could make it."

"John is fine, but Gillman?" You say, scoffing at the surname. "That should've gone to the Deep."

The Homelander pauses. You momentarily think he's silently returned to his hatewatch of the news. But then he speaks, his voice a bit lower. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it doesn't fit you," You explain, not yet noticing how he has stilled under your touch. "Gillman sounds like the Deep with him and...his...gills..."

You trail off as the Homelander slowly sits off of your lap. His body turns so he sits beside you, arms on his knees, his red boots flat on the floor. Like a bird of prey locking onto its victim, his head slowly turns to look at you. His smile is long and thin. "Are you comparing me to the Deep, sweetheart?"

Danger. Your heart rate spikes, and it makes his smile twitch up. It doesn’t matter that you know he can smell, see, and hear every part of you; your reactions are instinctive and will never go away. Truthfully, he barely needs his super senses. He knows you, and you made the mistake of forgetting him. 

You should have known better than to bring up any other supes in his sensitive state - especially supes that have tried to flirt with you in front of him. 

"No, of course not," You say quickly with a nervous laugh. "I was just saying the name was-"

"Stupid. Yeah, I heard you." He still isn't moving, far too rigid and dangerous in his spot beside you. 

"I didn't say it was-"

He shushes you and slowly brings a hand up to cup your cheek. "Relax, honey," He purrs. His gloved hand slowly moves down the length of your neck and settles comfortably around the hollow of your throat. "I'm not mad. I just think I gotta remind you who I am."

~-~

One of the Homelander’s favorite parts of sex with you is the vulnerability. He loves to have you fully naked while he is still fully clothed. It's a blatant power play, but it goes deeper than that. He sees every inch of your skin as a work of art and can spend hours mapping you until you're trembling with need. With the news still quietly playing in the background, he has done just that.

He hasn't moved from his spot on the couch, but you are in a very different pose. He has you naked in his lap with your back to him. His hands are under your thighs to keep them up against your chest, your feet flat on the tops of his legs. He uses his hold on your hips to keep you situated with his cock buried deep in your ass. You can squirm and fidget as much as you want; nothing is breaking his grip.

"Now, remind me, sweetie," He murmurs into your ear as he lifts your hips up and entirely off of him, only to slam them back down on his cock. He ignores your loud gasp. "Who's fucking your ass right now, hm? Me? Or the Deep?"

"Y-you!" You cry out breathlessly. Your entire body is shaking and while he certainly notices, he says nothing about it. He had been very thorough in preparing you for this. After leaving your clothes in tatters on the floor, he ate your pussy and fingered your hole to the exact stretch he wanted. He didn't mind that you had already come twice; that wasn't the point of this.

"Such a little slut," He growls tugging your earlobe between his teeth. "You just wanna be filled up, don't you? Will you take any dick?"

"N-No!" You gasp as he once again bounces you down on his cock. "J-just you. Only you."

"Hm..." He easily holds you steady with one hand while the other slowly traces between your legs. The tips of his fingers swirl tight circles around your clit, and he chuckles darkly at the way your body spasms. "Aww, feeling sensitive? That's ‘cause this little pussy is mine."

He bucks up again, and then starts a steady rhythm while he keeps on talking. The Homelander thrusts into you so you're never wholly without his dick, and even as you feel him begin to swell inside of you, he doesn't pause for breathe. He doesn't break a sweat. His sinful voice breathes into your ear. "This tight little ass is mine. Understand me?"

It's hard for you to reply with how he's rutting up into you, and he rewards the delay with a pinch to your clit. You squeal. "Yes! I'm yours, Homelander. I'm yours."

He flips you with practiced ease so your stomach lands on the couch. You're not given time to reorient yourself before his cock is inside of you again, this time in your pussy. His hands, somehow removed from their gloves during the flip, both fall to your hips as he fucks you. The sound of him pounding into you is obscene - repeated, needy, and wet. He's done talking; he has a goal now, and that's making it so the only damned thing you can think of is him.

"H-Homelander..." Your voice is wheezy and desperate to your ears. "I'm gonna..."

"Oh, I know." He at least sounds breathless now, eager for a release only you can give to him. He moves a hand to your head. He curls his fingers into your hair and pushes the side of your face down onto the cushion. The strength flattens your body so he slides impossibly deeper into you. "Come. Now."

And you do. You come soundlessly, your eyes rolling back. You may even black out for a second, only vaguely aware of him pulling out to finish on your exposed back with a moan of your name that is near reverent. You are a mess of sweat and his seed, and he knows he’s done his job. Once again, you are thoroughly and exhaustedly and completely his.

He just looks at you for a long moment, and you’re too exhausted to comment. You eventually feel him shift off of the couch. His gloveless fingers stroke delicately through your hair, and you turn your head to see him kneeling beside you. His smile is now gentle. "And? How are we doing?"

You grumble and nuzzle the side of your face against the couch. "My legs are numb."

The Homelander chuckles and leans in to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. "I didn't hear a safeword..."

"Didn't need one, Mr. Gillman."

The sharp slap to your ass isn't a surprise. "You're lucky you're cute." He murmurs as he stands back up. "Alright, c’mon.”

He lifts you into a bridal carry like you weigh nothing. There’s an undeniable fondness in those blue eyes that reminds you as much as you belong to him, he’s yours right back. He smiles down at you.  "Let's get you all cleaned up, huh?"

You lazily lean your head against his chest. "Can you get milkshakes after?"

The Homelander chuckles and gives your naked thighs an affectionate squeeze. "Yes. I can get milkshakes after.”

[rootedinrevisions]

Better Late Than Never: Alternate Ending

SUMMARY: After one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. But proving he's ready to be the man you deserve proves to be harder than he expected.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the comments and feedback on this story. Here is an alternate ending where you (and your friends) make Glen work a little harder to win you back over.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think of this version! Did you like it better than the original? I'd love to see your opinion in the comments!

WORD COUNT: 7.8K

TAGS: In Comments.

**THE BEGINNING OF THIS STORY IS THE SAME. THIS ALTERNATE ENDING PICKS UP AT THE BAR WHEN GLEN SHOWS UP** - READ THE ORIGINAL VERSION -- HERE

The music thrummed through the bar, matching the energy of the group gathered around the high-top table. Glasses clinked together in a loud, boisterous toast, followed by laughter that was as unrestrained as it was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile, letting the warmth of the moment replace the earlier disappointment that had been gnawing at the edges of your birthday.

"To another year of dodging bad dates and drinking great cocktails!" Maggie shouted, raising her glass dramatically. The group erupted in cheers as you shook your head, laughing. She nudged you with her shoulder. "And to you, finally realizing what a catch you are."

You rolled your eyes, but the grin stayed plastered on your face. "Thanks, Maggie."

The group dissolved into casual chatter, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again. The sting of Glen cancelling dinner—the dinner you’d looked forward to all week—was starting to fade, dulled by the buzz of margaritas and the steady rhythm of laughter surrounding you.

“Okay, it’s your birthday, so spill,” one of your friends teased, leaning closer. “What’s the plan for your next year of life? New goals? Big dreams? New men?”

You were mid-sip, considering how to answer, when the door to the bar opened. A gust of air swept through the room, and instinctively, your eyes flickered toward the entrance.

And that’s when you saw him.

Glen.

Glen stepped into the bar, the low hum of conversation and the upbeat music doing little to calm the nerves rattling inside him. He scanned the room, searching for you, but all he could see was a blur of faces. His heart sank as he realized how crowded it was, and for a moment, he wondered if coming here was a mistake.

But then he spotted Maggie weaving through the throng of people, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him like she’d been expecting this. The relief he felt at seeing a familiar face quickly evaporated when he noticed the look on hers—unimpressed and unyielding.

“Glen,” she greeted, her voice flat as she stopped directly in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Maggie.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the urgency crept in anyway. “Where's she at? I need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

Maggie folded her arms, tilting her head in that way that made him feel like he was already losing. “Explain what? That you bailed on her—again? Or that you decided a party in New York was more important than dinner with her?”

He clenched his jaw, feeling the sting of her words. “I didn’t bail,” he said firmly. “I texted her. I told her I’d be late, but I’d be here. I just—things didn’t go as planned.”

“Didn’t go as planned,” Maggie echoed, her tone dripping with disbelief. “That’s your excuse? Glen, she waited for you. She planned her whole night around you. And then you just...what? Text her last minute and think that makes it okay?”

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hadn’t planned for this confrontation, not tonight. Not with Maggie. 

“Look,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “I know I messed up, okay? But I’m here now. I just want to talk to her.”

Maggie didn’t budge. “And what? Tell her you’re sorry? That it won’t happen again? Because let’s be real, Glen—it will.”

Her words hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Was she wrong? He hated the doubt that crept in.

“She deserves better,” Maggie continued, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And I’m not going to let you show up now, just because it’s convenient for you, and pretend like you didn’t hurt her.”

Glen’s chest tightened, the weight of her words settling heavy on him. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want to miss dinner. I didn’t mean to let her down. I just...I screwed up. But I want to make it right.”

Maggie studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching his face for any sign of sincerity. “You say that,” she said finally, “but actions speak louder than words. And so far? Your actions suck.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He’d been so sure that if he could just talk to you, explain everything, you’d understand. But now, standing here under Maggie’s scrutinizing glare, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I just...I need to see her,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Maggie. Let me talk to her.”

She hesitated for a beat before shaking her head. “Not tonight, Glen. She deserves to enjoy her birthday without you making it about your mess. Go home.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the finality in her tone stopped him. Defeated, he nodded, stepping back. 

“Fine,” he said, though the word felt hollow.

As he turned to leave, he glanced toward the table where you were sitting, laughing with your friends. The sound of your laughter, even from across the room, hit him like a gut punch. He had no right to interrupt that moment, no matter how much he wanted to.

Walking out of the bar, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind already racing with ways to fix this. Maggie might have won this round, but he wasn’t giving up. Not on you. Not this time.

When Maggie returned to the table, she had that look—stern but protective, the kind of look that meant she wasn’t going to let you off the hook without saying her piece.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, nervous to hear her answer.

Maggie slid into her seat and took a deliberate sip of her drink, her eyes darting toward the bar. “He wanted to talk to you,” she said calmly, setting her glass down.

Your stomach flipped, a mix of hope and dread rising in your chest. “And?”

“I told him he couldn’t.”

Your heart sank, confusion flashing across your face. “You what?”

“I told him you didn’t need this tonight,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “That he can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for him and expect you to drop everything to listen to him.”

Your jaw tightened as you stared at her, struggling to piece together what she was saying. “What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to explain, that he felt bad about missing dinner. But I told him enough is enough. This isn’t the first time he’s let you down, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin your night with some half-hearted apology.”

“Maggie...” you started, your voice trailing off.

“No,” she cut in, holding up a hand to stop you. “You’ve had a crush on him for how long now? Years, right? And you let him get away with stuff because it's him. If I did half the shit he does you wouldn't be my friend anymore. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, fiddling with the condensation on your glass.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but let’s be real here—the crush is why you let him get away with it. If he were just some friend who bailed all the time, you wouldn’t make excuses for him like this. But because it’s Glen, because you like him, you let it slide. Every time.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled, though the weak protest did little to convince even yourself.

“It’s not about fair,” Maggie said, her tone softening just slightly. “It’s about what you deserve. And if he’s just your friend? Fine. Let him screw up every now and then, no big deal. But if you want him to be more than that? If he ever wants to be more than that? Then he has to act like it. And bailing on dinner to go to a party isn’t acting like it.”

You sighed, her words sinking in like weights tied to your chest. “He’s not a bad guy, Maggie,” you said quietly.

“I’m not saying he is,” she said gently. “But I am saying that you deserve better from a partner. You deserve someone who shows up, who puts you first. Not someone who expects you to rearrange your life around their schedule and call it love.”

Her words stung because you knew they were true. The hope you’d been clinging to—the idea that Glen might finally see you as more than just a friend—felt paper-thin now, flimsy and fragile under the weight of reality.

“I just...” you started, but your voice faltered. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

Maggie reached out, squeezing your hand. “I love you,” she said, her tone softening even more. “And I know how much you care about him. But you can’t keep letting him off the hook just because you want him to care about you the same way. He either steps up, or he doesn’t deserve to be the guy you’ve been waiting for.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you blinked back the sting in your eyes. “You’re right,” you whispered, though the words felt like they might break you.

Maggie gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Come on,” she said, giving your hand another squeeze. “It’s your birthday. Don’t let him ruin it.”

You forced a smile, nodding as you straightened in your seat. The night wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t ready to let Glen—or your own feelings for him—ruin it. Not tonight.

* * * * *

By the time Maggie pulled up to your place, the weight of the night was beginning to settle in your chest. The buzz from the drinks had worn off, leaving you raw and tired. You unclipped your seatbelt as Maggie parked by the curb, and she turned to you with a small smile.

“Happy birthday,” she said softly.

She then reached into her purse. She handed you your phone, and for a moment, you just stared at it.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your fingers curling around the familiar weight of the device.

“Get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day,” Maggie added, her tone light, but there was an edge of concern underneath.

“I will,” you replied, forcing a small smile to reassure her.

She lingered for a second, her eyes searching yours before she nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You stepped out of the car and watched her drive away before heading up to your apartment. The silence of your place greeted you like an old friend, but tonight, it felt heavier than usual. You kicked off your shoes and left them by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you wandered into the living room.

Sinking onto the couch, you finally unlocked your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you in the dim room. Notifications lit up one after another, but your eyes landed on Glen’s name almost immediately.

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened his messages, scrolling through them one by one.

7:12 PM: Hey, I’m really sorry about missing dinner last night. My interview ran long, and I missed my flight. I had to stay an extra day, but I swear I wasn’t blowing you off. Can't wait to see you tonight!

You frowned, your thumb hovering over the screen. He hadn’t mentioned the missed flight last night—hadn’t even tried to explain until now.

8:07 PM: I’m running late, but I’ll be there. Just got back into Austin and hit traffic.

Your stomach tightened. The memory of sitting at the restaurant, checking your phone every few minutes, flashed through your mind. You hadn’t seen this message. By 8 you’d already given up on him.

8:46 PM: Where are you? I went to the restaurant, but I guess I just missed you.

You bit your lip, the weight in your chest growing heavier.

10:15 PM: I’m sorry. I know I’ve let you down, and I hate that I keep doing this to you. Maggie said you didn't want to talk to me. Please don’t give up on me. I’ll fix this. I swear.

You stared at the screen, your throat tightening as the words blurred. His texts were full of apologies, of promises you weren’t sure he could keep. You wanted to be angry, to hold onto the frustration and disappointment, but a part of you—a soft, stubborn part—wanted to believe him.

You sighed, setting the phone down on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You closed your eyes, the words from his last message echoing in your mind.

Please don’t give up on me.

Your fingers itched to respond, to demand answers, but instead, you grabbed your phone again and typed out a simple reply: We’ll talk tomorrow.

You stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

As you set your phone back down, a knock at the door startled you, echoing through the stillness of your apartment. Your heart leapt, and for a second, you considered ignoring it. But something—some quiet, nagging feeling—pulled you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Glen stood on the other side, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and an almost sheepish look on his face.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft but urgent. “But I needed to see you.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the door, your tired eyes narrowing. “Glen, it’s not a good time—”

He reached out, his hand gently pressing against the door to stop you from closing it. “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Just give me five minutes. Let me explain.”

You hesitated, the frustration and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. But something in his voice, in the way he looked at you, made you pause. With a resigned sigh, you stepped aside and let him in.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall near the door as Glen stepped inside. He seemed almost hesitant, like he knew he was walking a tightrope.

“Okay,” you said, your tone clipped. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I messed up. I know I did. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to let you down again. My interview ran over, and I missed my flight. By the time I got back to Austin, I figured you’d already left the restaurant.”

You raised an eyebrow, the heat rising in your chest. “And then what? You just decided to go to a party instead?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? No, that’s not—”

“Was your interview with Alanna Norris?” you interrupted, your voice sharp.

Glen froze, the color draining slightly from his face. “What are you talking about?”

You stepped forward, your phone suddenly feeling heavy in your pocket. “I saw the pictures, Glen. The videos. You at that party with her, laughing, smiling, looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. While I was sitting at home alone, trying to figure out you didn't show up for the birthday dinner you planned for me.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Then what was it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you bailed on me for some party for one of your Hollywood friends.”

He stepped closer, his hands out as if he were trying to reach for you but hesitated. “I didn’t plan to go to that party, okay? I only went because I realized I wasn’t going to make it back to Austin in time for dinner. It was a networking thing—work, nothing more. I wasn’t there to have fun, I was there because I thought it might help my career.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Work. It’s always about work with you, isn’t it?”

He sighed, his expression pained. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but it’s the truth. You know how important this weekend is to me. I didn’t want to miss your dinner, but when I realized I couldn’t make it, I thought at least I could make the most of the night professionally.”

You moved to the couch and sat down, arms still folded as you glared at him. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? You always have a reason, Glen. There’s always an explanation, but it doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t there. Again.”

Glen followed you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you, his eyes full of sincerity, and for a moment, you hated how much it pulled at your heartstrings.

“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. “Ever?”

Your lips parted, ready to counter him, but the words didn’t come. You wanted to call him out, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was, he wasn’t. Glen had let you down, canceled plans, missed important moments—but he’d never lied.

You sighed, looking away. “It’s not about lying, Glen. It’s about priorities. It feels like I’m always coming in second to everything else in your life. Your job, your career, your networking events.”

He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on his thighs. “That’s not true,” he said softly.

“It feels true,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly. “I waited for you, Glen. I was sitting there, hoping you’d show up, and you didn’t. And yeah, maybe you didn’t lie, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was alone on my birthday because you couldn’t be bothered to put me first for once.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve been there. No excuses. And I hate that I wasn’t. I hate that I keep screwing up with you.”

You glanced down at him, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his expression. He looked genuinely hurt, but that didn’t erase the ache you felt.

“I don’t know if an apology is enough,” you admitted quietly.

“I don’t expect it to be,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N. Just… don’t give up on me.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, but the weight of his past letdowns still lingered.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I need time, Glen. I can’t just pretend everything’s okay overnight.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at you one last time. “Happy birthday. I hope it was still a good one.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the faint echo of his words.

* * * * *

The next morning, you were still in your pajamas—a faded T-shirt and a pair of shorts—when the knock on your door startled you. Coffee in hand, you hesitated for a moment before peeking through the peephole.

Glen.

With a sigh, you set your coffee down and unlocked the door. As you opened it, your eyes immediately widened at the sight in front of you. Glen stood there holding a bouquet so large it nearly obscured his face. Roses, lilies, sunflowers—practically every flower imaginable—were packed into the arrangement, making it look more like a garden than a bouquet.

You blinked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. “What… are you doing?” you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Glen peeked out from behind the flowers, his expression impossibly earnest. “I’m fixing this.”

Your brow arched. “With… that?” You gestured toward the bouquet.

He stepped forward, undeterred by your guarded tone. “Partly, I remember you said a few months ago no one's ever bought you flowers for your birthday. So here are flowers for your birthday,” he said with a small smile, tilting the bouquet toward you. “But mostly, I’m here to show you I’m serious.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the flowers. “Glen, I don’t need a grand gesture—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know this doesn’t fix everything. But it’s a start. And I needed you to see that I mean it when I say I’ll do better.”

You let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. “You realize this is borderline ridiculous, right?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Absolutely. But I figured if I’m going to make a fool of myself, I might as well go all in.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face despite your best efforts to remain guarded. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Glen took the opportunity to step inside, setting the bouquet down on your coffee table. The oversized arrangement looked absurdly out of place in your small living room, but somehow, it felt… fitting.

He turned back to you, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Look, I know I’ve let you down more times than I can count. And I know flowers and apologies don’t erase that. But I want to make this right,Y/N. I want to show you that I can prioritize you the way you deserve.”

You studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to stay mad, it was hard to ignore the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” you asked, your tone cautious.

“For starters,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “I cleared my entire schedule for the next couple days. No interviews, no networking events, no work commitments. It’s just you and me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You did that?”

“I cleared my schedule,” he repeated, holding the notebook up as if to prove it. “I told my manager I needed time off. And believe me, she wasn’t happy about it. But I didn’t care, because I meant what I said last night. You’re more important.”

The walls you’d carefully constructed around your heart started to crack, but you weren’t ready to let them crumble just yet. 

“That’s a nice sentiment,” you said quietly. “But what happens when the next big opportunity comes along? Or the next party? Am I just supposed to hope you won’t drop me for that, too?”

Glen took a step closer, his gaze steady. “No. You shouldn’t have to hope,Y/N. You should know. And I’m going to make sure you do.” He paused, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not perfect. I know I’ll probably screw up again at some point, but I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. Because losing you isn’t an option for me.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you square in the chest. For all your frustration and hurt, it was impossible to ignore the depth of his sincerity.

“I don’t know, Glen,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I want to believe you, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“I know,” he said, his voice just as soft. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. I just… I want a chance to prove to you that I can do better.”

You looked away, your emotions a tangle of doubt, hope, and fear. After a long silence, you finally met his gaze again.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Glen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just give me one more chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing yours lightly. “Friends?” he asked, offering a tentative olive branch.

You exhaled, a faint smile breaking through despite yourself. “Friends,” you agreed, though the word felt heavier than it should have.

As Glen lingered near the door, his eyes swept over your living room, still filled with traces of your everyday life—blankets draped over the couch, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to the over-the-top bouquet he’d brought. He glanced back at you, his hands in his pockets again, and tilted his head with a small smile.

“So,” he began, his tone casual, “how about I take you to that coffee shop you love downtown? My treat.”

Your brow arched slightly as you regarded him, arms still loosely crossed. “You’re really laying it on thick this morning, huh?”

Glen shrugged, his grin widening. “I figured I needed to pull out all the stops. Besides, I owe you about a hundred coffee dates at this point.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “Give me a minute to change,” you said, turning toward your bedroom.

Behind the safety of your bedroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a long breath. The morning’s events played through your mind—his earnest apology, the ridiculous bouquet, his clear effort to show he was serious. It was all… a lot.

And yet, despite your lingering reservations, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him.

Shaking off the swirling thoughts, you crossed the room to your closet and pulled out something simple but presentable—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. As you changed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. There was still a guardedness in your expression, but beneath it, a faint flicker of hope was beginning to take root.

When you returned to the living room, Glen straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and the easy smile on his face sent a pang through your chest—equal parts frustrating and endearing.

“Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

You grabbed your bag and slipped on your shoes, nodding as you stepped past him. “Let’s go.”

The coffee shop was as cozy as ever, its familiar hum of chatter and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Glen had already ordered your hazelnut latte and a slice of coffee cake before you’d even had a chance to argue, his easy smile daring you to say he didn’t know you well enough.

As you both sat down, the conversation was brief but meaningful. Glen apologized again, promising to do better, and though his words carried sincerity, you held onto your guardedness. He didn’t press when you didn’t immediately forgive him, seeming to understand that trust would take more than words.

After finishing your drinks, Glen glanced at you as you walked toward the door. “What do you think about heading over to the old trail? You know, the one we used to run together?”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Sure. Why not?”

You stepped onto the familiar dirt path, the trail winding through a grove of trees that were barren but still beautiful in their stark simplicity. You tucked your hands into your coat pockets, your shoes crunching against the gravel as Glen matched your pace beside you.

“It’s been a while since we came here,” he said, his tone light. “I forgot how quiet it gets out here.”

“It’s one of my favorite things about this trail,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the path ahead.

He glanced over at you, his expression softer than you expected. “I missed this.”

You let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Missed what? Running?”

He shook his head. “No. Walking with you. Talking with you. Just… spending time with you.”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them making your steps falter for a moment. You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say. Instead, you kept walking, the silence between you not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts.

Glen didn’t push, letting the moment settle naturally as the trail stretched out before you.

The sound of your boots crunching against the gravel filled the silence as you walked side by side, the air between you and Glen thick with unspoken emotions. When you didn’t respond to his earlier comment, Glen glanced over at you, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Do you?” he asked after a moment.

You stopped walking and turned to him with a confused expression. “Do I what?”

“Miss spending time with me,” he clarified, his tone softer now.

You rolled your eyes and resumed walking. “Of course I miss you, Glen. You’re my best friend—when you actually show up.”

He winced but didn’t argue, nodding as if to acknowledge the truth in your words. For a few moments, the two of you walked in silence again, but Glen broke it this time with a different question.

“Are you still seeing… what’s his name?”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Evan? No, we broke up.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t really going anywhere anyway.”

Glen hesitated before glancing at you again. “So… are you seeing anyone now?”

You huffed a laugh and playfully shoved his arm. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

He grinned, rubbing his arm as though your shove had actually hurt. “I’m just trying to stay up to date on your life. You know, since it’s been a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, giving him a skeptical look but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Seriously,” he insisted, his grin softening into something more sincere. “I feel like I’ve missed a lot.”

You glanced at him, your footsteps slowing slightly. “Yeah, well… you have.”

The honesty in your voice made him stop walking entirely. He turned to face you, his expression filled with regret. “I know. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”

For a moment, you studied his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest tighten. You wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different. But after so many missed moments and broken plans, part of you still held back.

Glen glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “So… are you seeing someone?”

You let out a sigh, staring down at the trail ahead of you. “No, there’s no one.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you. You resisted the urge to look at him, instead focusing on the way the late morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. “What about you?” you asked, your voice more hesitant than you intended. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Glen chuckled, the sound light and almost self-deprecating. “Me? Come on. My life’s so crazy right now I don’t even have time to breathe, let alone have a girlfriend.”

You tried to match his laugh, forcing a lighthearted response. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You can barely make it to dinner—you’d probably be a terrible boyfriend.”

He laughed a little louder this time, and though it was meant as a joke, your words carried a heavier weight that neither of you acknowledged.

But deep down, his answer didn’t bring the relief you thought it would. Instead, it left a hollow ache in your chest, one you tried to bury as you pushed a stray hair out of your face and glanced at him.

“I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t try if the right person came along,” Glen said after a pause, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You looked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. But before you could say anything, he turned to you with his trademark grin, lightening the mood.

“Not that I’d have any luck. I’m pretty sure I’d forget our anniversary or something and get dumped immediately.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “You’re hopeless.”

The conversation drifted after that, the heavier moments giving way to an easier rhythm as you walked the familiar trail together. But even as you laughed at his jokes and teased him about tripping over a tree root, that small pang of sadness lingered, a quiet reminder of the distance still between you.

As you and Glen left the trail, he glanced over at you with a grin. “You up for one more stop?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me now?”

He just shrugged, keeping the grin firmly in place. “You’ll see.”

Before you could argue, Glen was already pulling out of the parking lot, his hand casually draped over the steering wheel as the radio played softly in the background. You tried to guess where he was taking you, but he didn’t budge, dodging your questions with playful non-answers until the car finally rolled into the parking lot of a small, familiar diner.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Rudy’s? Are you serious?”

“Hey, you used to love this place,” Glen said, parking the car and turning off the engine.

He wasn’t wrong. Rudy’s had been one of your favorite spots back in the day—a no-frills diner with red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and the best milkshakes in town. It was where you and Glen used to come after late-night study sessions or early morning runs, a place that held more memories than you cared to admit.

The familiar bell jingled as the two of you stepped inside, the smell of coffee and frying bacon hitting you instantly. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes scanned the space, everything just as you remembered it.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite troublemakers!”

You turned to see Donna, the waitress who used to wait on you two all the time, heading toward you with a knowing smile. She looked exactly the same, her blonde hair teased into a high ponytail and her pink uniform just a little snugger than you remembered.

“Donna!” Glen greeted, his grin widening. “Still holding down the fort, huh?”

“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on this place,” she said with a wink, before turning to you. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you two together. Thought maybe he finally scared you off for good.”

You laughed, glancing at Glen. “Not yet, but he’s been trying.”

Donna chuckled and led you to a booth near the window, promising to bring over your “usuals,” even though it had been years since either of you had been there.

As you slid into the booth across from Glen, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nostalgia. The playful teasing, the easy way you fit into this place together—it was starting to feel a little too familiar, a little too good.

“So,” Glen said, leaning back in the booth with a smirk, “I’m gonna guess she’s still got my milkshake order memorized.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean the chocolate monstrosity? Pretty sure that’s hard to forget.”

He grinned. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I did try it. Once. And I’m still recovering.”

The banter continued as Donna brought over your orders—his chocolate brownie shake, your classic vanilla shake, and a basket of fries to share.

Somewhere between stealing fries from each other’s side of the basket and arguing over who had the better milkshake, the tension from earlier seemed to melt away. You found yourself laughing more, leaning into the playful energy Glen always seemed to bring with him.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry into his shake with a mischievous grin, “I forgot how much fun this is. Just us, hanging out. Feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. But as you looked at him—his messy hair, his boyish grin, the way he seemed completely at ease in this moment—you couldn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kind of does.”

After finishing up at the diner, Glen walked you back to the car, the remnants of your milkshakes still in hand. The air between you was lighter now, filled with easy smiles and the kind of camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, your tone both skeptical and amused.

“Not just yet,” Glen replied with a mysterious grin. “I’ve got one more stop in mind.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a day of going down memory lane,” he said, his voice softening just slightly.

The drive didn’t take long, but the familiarity of the route had your curiosity growing. When Glen turned onto the winding road leading up to the old scenic overlook, your brows shot up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, a laugh escaping despite yourself.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“This is where kids used to come to make out, Glen.”

He smirked, pulling the car into one of the gravel spots near the edge of the overlook and turning off the engine. “Well, yeah. But it also has a great view.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as you climbed out of the car. The overlook hadn’t changed much—still the same grassy clearing that opened up to a breathtaking view of the valley below. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in warm hues of gold and orange.

Glen joined you at the edge, leaning on the old wooden railing as he looked out at the view. “You know, I remember finding you here more than once back in the day,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something almost nostalgic.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school,” he said, turning to look at you. “Whenever you were upset or needed space, you’d come here. Usually by yourself. I’d end up driving by and seeing your car parked here, so I’d stop to check on you.”

You frowned slightly, the memories flickering to life. “I wasn’t upset. I just… needed to get away sometimes.”

“Run away, you mean,” Glen teased lightly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t running away. I just liked the quiet.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But you’d always talk to me when I showed up. Even when you said you wanted to be alone.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t remember you being this sentimental.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees and the distant hum of cicadas filling the air.

“Why’d you bring me here, Glen?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

He glanced at you, his expression more serious. “Because I thought maybe you could use a little peace. And because I know this place means something to you.”

Your heart gave a small, involuntary flutter at his words, but you pushed the feeling down, turning your attention back to the view.

“This place is nice,” you said softly. “I forgot how much I liked it here.”

Glen nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I guess I just wanted to remind you of the good stuff. The stuff that hasn’t changed.”

You looked over at him, his profile outlined by the fading sunlight, and for a moment, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was hard to stay guarded when he looked at you like that—like he still cared, like he still wanted to be the person you could lean on.

The mood shifted slightly as you leaned against the wooden railing, the soft breeze brushing past you. Glen turned to glance at you, catching the way your gaze lingered on the horizon, a faint wistfulness in your expression.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I’ve never actually been out here with someone before.”

Glen frowned. “That’s not true. You’ve been out here with me.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a playful look. “Not like that, Glen. I mean… as a date. Back in the day, I was kind of the awkward kid. Nobody wanted to date me, let alone bring me out here.”

His frown deepened, and he turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “It’s true. Not everyone gets their rom-com moment, Glen. Not everyone gets swept off their feet or… gets to star in the big romantic scenes.”

At that, he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Rom-com moment? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gave him a knowing look. “You know what I mean. The big moment in every chick flick where the guy finally realizes he’s in love with the girl, and he makes some grand gesture to win her back. Like, he shows up at her house, or her job, or stops her at the airport to profess his love. And then they kiss, and everything’s magically perfect.”

Glen leaned on the railing beside you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’re saying you’ve never had one of those?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis. “Not everyone gets that kind of moment, Glen. Some of us just get… life.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You know, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“What, that sometimes life is just… life?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That you’ve never had a rom-com moment. I think you have. You just haven’t recognized it yet.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “Just that you’re kind of oblivious sometimes.”

You turned to look at Glen, his words catching you off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean, I’m oblivious?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

He met your gaze, and there was something in his eyes—something intense and vulnerable that made your breath catch.

You started to say something, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Let me say this...please,” he said softly.

You closed your mouth, your heart pounding as he took a step closer.

“You mean more to me than anyone else ever has,” he began, his voice steady but low. “You always have. And I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that I’m not enough for you, that I’ll never be enough. But I’m tired, too. Tired of not telling you how I feel, tired of watching you date guys who don’t deserve you.”

You blinked, his words sinking in, and your heart felt like it might burst from the mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Glen continued, his voice growing firmer now. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll keep showing you that. Every single day.”

The world seemed to go quiet around you, the only sound your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You stared at him, his words echoing in your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Then, with a slight smile tugging at your lips, you whispered, “Kiss me.”

Glen’s lips twitched into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah.”

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips pressed softly against yours. It was tentative at first, almost as if he were afraid to push too far, but when you leaned into him, his other hand settled lightly on your waist, deepening the kiss.

It was everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for—warm, electric, and grounding all at once. When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, his forehead resting against yours as his hands lingered on your waist.

“Was that rom-com enough for you?” Glen teased softly, his grin full of warmth.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “I’d say it’s a good start.”

Glen's grin widened at your response, and before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more certain, and filled with an unspoken promise that sent your heart racing. When he pulled back, his hands still resting gently on your waist, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“You do know we're not dating now, right?” You said firmly, though your voice softened as you met his gaze. “If you want this to go anywhere, you’re going to have to prove you’re serious. No more excuses, no more letting me down.”

Glen nodded, his expression earnest. “I know. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“And,” you added, raising an eyebrow, “you’re going to start by taking me on an actual date. None of this ‘showing up with flowers and hoping for the best’ stuff.”

A smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “I already know where I’m taking you.”

“Oh, do you?” you asked, crossing your arms and giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah,” he said confidently, his eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and warmth. “But I’m not telling you. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Fine. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his tone soft but sure.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the night air cool around you, the stars scattered across the sky. It wasn’t a perfect ending, but it felt like a beginning—one filled with hope, potential, and the possibility of something real.

“Come on,” Glen said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You took his hand, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: this time, things were going to be different.

[delightfulhidingnook]

His Best Knight, The Queen

(Dark Cacao Cookie x Reader)

Chapter 9

While Dark Cacao, Golden Cheese, and Pure Vanilla were out and about searching for where you stomped away to, you were busy downing your 8th mug of juice, much to the dismay of the others, Hollyberry didn’t even want to admit she was a little impressed. Affogato was making you laugh as he brought up several memories from before he had made his disappearance and in turn you spilled some memories of your own of your time here in his absence.

“So what was this about him barging into your quarters?” Affogato asked.

You laughed and explained, “It was an honest mistake, hiccup he was wanting to ask me about what he should hiccup wear for the coronation, and to be fffffair, we’ve barged into each others quarters plenty of times, it was o-only a matter of time before one of us was gonna hiccup see the other.”

You laughed as you remembered the situation, but somehow the recollection, despite its hilarity, caused tears to fall from your eyes, you were crying, and it wasn’t tears of joy. The thought of being abandoned once more enveloped your mind like an approaching fog, your heart began to race and you started to sweat a little.

“Deep breaths Y/n.” White Lily says as Hollyberry rubs comforting circles on your back.

“H-He’s not gonna hiccup think l-less of me is he?”

Hollyberry sighs, “Of course not dear, you’ve cried to him many times and I can tell you with passionate confidence that he thinks the world of you, do not confuse his concern with condescension, he cares so very much Y/n, chin up, look at me.”

You look over at her, the tears beginning to cease as you took some deep breaths.

“I know, Dark Cacao can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes, but you must understand, care involves resolution, you have become so precious to him, he is determined to make sure no harm can come to you the best he can.”

“Th-then why make me hiccup his knight?”

“Because he can see how happy you are when you are defending something you love, in fact, between you and me, I think he finds it attractive.”

You manage a smile and even a small laugh, “Do n-not say such things, you know hiccup how I feel about him, I cannot be excited by such r-rumors.”

White Lily chimes in, “It’s no rumor Y/n, how can you not notice that he is more at ease next to you, you’re the only one he argues with, the only time he speaks in multiple full sentences is when you are present.”

“Coincidences. . .I think I’m hiccup ready tooooo get hiccup back out th-there hiccup and have fun.”

You try to stand up, Affogato catching you as you stumbled a bit, he helps you out of your seat, your arm around his shoulder while Hollyberry took your other arm.

“I think she needs some ice cream, let’s get her to the bar and grab her one.” White Lily laughs.

“N-no, I don’t hiccup want ice cream.”

As the trio was doing their best to carefully walk you over to get some ice cream and sober you up, Dark Cacao had managed to find Sweetie during his search for you, he had been laying in the plaza caring for a few of the local children. Some were petting his face and others were sleeping on his stomach, the twins could be seen sitting on Sweeties back and plucking out detached fur that had already been shed from his undercoat. Dark Cacao approached the dog, greeting people here and there who approached and congratulated him, Sweetie perked up, wagging his tail which swept the snow beneath it.

“Twins, have you seen Y/n?”

“Maybe we have, maybe we haven’t.” Shrugged Almond Milk.

“She looked upset, what’d you do?” Asked Oat Milk.

Dark Cacao wasn’t really in the mood for the antics of these oddball children, “Where are your parents?”

“You must’ve done something pretty bad to have committed such a terrible attempt at changing the subject.” Said Oat Milk smugly.

“If you must know, our parents are at the tavern just further down the street, Y/n walked in there too with a couple of friends, she looked very mad, hopefully she doesn’t have an axe, she might not feel like missing this time.” Laughed Almond Milk.

“How do you know-? Nevermind, thank you.”

Dark Cacao met back up with the others before heading towards the tavern, surely enough, there you were at the bar, eating an entire tub of ice cream. Hollyberry and Affogato patting your shoulders while they, as well as White Lily, were consoling you.

Before he could walk up to you, Pure Vanilla grabbed him by the sleeve, “Remember friend, be gentle.”

“I know.” Replied Dark Cacao.

As he approached you, the others in the group stepped aside to give you both privacy, before you could ask Affogato where he and the others were going, you were met with those amethyst eyes, filled with remorse.

You quickly turn away from him, “Your highness, I must ask you to not look at me when I’m in such a state of distress.”

“I’ve seen you like this many times.”

“Dark Cacao has seen me like this many times hiccup and you’ve made it very clear that you are not him, he would trust me, that crown has taken away my dearest friend.”

He looks around at the bustling tavern, no doubt there were people listening in on the conversation, surely there was a way to coerce you somewhere more appropriate, people may get the wrong idea, there are already rumors.

“Would it not be better to discuss this somewhere more private?”

“I have no need to leave with you anywhere.”

“You’ve been shivering since I have arrived, you require a hot meal or beverage, the ice cream is only making you colder and while your armor is a marvelous sight. . .” He pulls at the neckline of the armor beneath your hooded cloak, revealing a bit of redness, “. . .its irritating your dough, a change into some soft garments will do you well, I understand if you still do not wish to leave with me after the things I have said, but it is clear you are not comfortable and I do not wish to see you in pain. . . .please Y/n.”

He places a hand on top of yours and you turn your hand over to hold his, “. . .okay.”

You get up and stumble a bit, but he catches you, helping you regain your balance, you barely notice every gaze within the tavern, all staring at the sight before them, the king and his knight, it will only make the rumors worse. You stare at the ground, there was no point in hiding your face but at least you could turn away from all the watchful eyes as you stepped toward the exit of the tavern.

“Turn your gazes and do not mistake friendship for romance, the king is helping his friend who is very obviously in distress, it is not anything more or anything less of kindness, be grateful to have a king with such a heart!!” Shouted Affogato to the other customers of the tavern, all of their eyes immediately going back to their drinks and meals as you and Dark Cacao made your exit.

Once in the citadel, you change into some softer clothes, Dark Cacao waited outside of your quarters in case you fell over and required assistance. Once you came out, you both went over to the kitchen, you checked the fridge for ingredients but your friend had insisted that he would make a meal for you as you have done many times for him. You smiled and nodded before heading to the dining room and taking a seat, the chairs were so comfy and you could hear the soothing waves of the licorice sea. You feel your thoughts drifting, the peace lulling you into a state of rest as your eyes gently closed.

You wake up in the same spot, except it was practically pitch black within the citadel, you must have overslept, you shiver, your breath like smoke as you exhale, trying your best to navigate through the building. You find yourself in the center of a hallway and it’s only when you see the shadowy figure ahead you realize you had to run, this nightmare had only one ending. But despite how fast you felt you were moving, your pace was like that of a snail, soon the other figure appeared and you finally braced yourself. First came the sting of being impaled, the jam flowing down your body, you managed to capture a sight of one of the shadows gazes, it seemed upset, almost hurt.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Y/n. . . .Y/n!! . .” You heard the shadowy figure, it sounded angry.

“Y/n, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”

You gasp as you awaken in your seat, Dark Cacao wraps his arms around you in a hug and you immediately reciprocate, grabbing onto him as you catch your breath.

“Was it the same one again?”

“Mhm. . .”

“The shadows cannot reach you here, you will be alright.” He slowly releases you, his gloved hands drying your eyes as they have done many times before.

In front of you was a steaming hot plate of candy pasta, you had only ever had the dish a handful of times at the Hollyberry Kingdom, it’s especially popularly ordered between couples. You pick up your fork and twirl it into the pasta, the taste was immaculate, it was even better than the times you had eaten it before.

“You made this?”

“I. . .learned a bit from the elderly woman at the inn I had been staying at.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

You enjoyed the rest of your meal before washing up, much to Dark Cacao’s protest, then you both walked out onto the citadel walls. You look out to the sea, it was peaceful, the breeze sent a chill down your spine, Dark Cacao removes his cloak, wrapping it around you. As he slowly pulls his arms away, you grab onto the one wrapped around your shoulders, he keeps it around you and you stare into those precious gemstone eyes once more. The only thing that mattered was this moment, your friend, your secret crush, how you wish he shared your feelings, but you couldn’t dare to risk this. As long as his beautiful eyes, so full of determination, stayed in your life, then there was nothing more that you would wish for. Little did you know, he shared in this romantic sorrow, looking into your eyes, at your face, and you were wrapped in his cloak, you looked breathtaking, you were always breathtaking, but he too could never risk your discomfort should you not reciprocate these feelings.

“Dark Cacao. . .” You whispered.

“Yes.” He replied quietly.

“It’s getting late, perhaps we should turn in for the night.”

“Perhaps. . .would you mind if I walked you to your chambers? Please, do not hesitate to refuse me.”

“I could never refuse you my dear friend.”

You both walk back into the citadel, side by side, his arm never leaving you, once at the door, you turn to him to say goodbye but he stops you.

“I had been meaning to apologize for my actions earlier, I did not mean to cause you emotional distress by coming off as condescending, I view you as a fierce and unshakable warrior, nothing will ever change that, but as your friend I also wish to protect you, but I understand you want to make your own decisions and with that you will also face your own battles, such is life, could you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“It is I who should be asking for forgiveness, you had your reasons for being protective, what happened was not okay and you were merely concerned with me going through that pain again, I could never stay angered at you when your heart was in the right place, I accept your apology, could you ever accept mine?”

“Of course, I shall leave you to get your rest then, have a good night Y/n.”

Before he leaves, you walk up to him and get on your tip toes to reach his face, before he can ask what you were doing, you kissed him on the cheek, “Have a good night Dark Cacao.”

You head back to the door and retreat into your quarters, Dark Cacao held a hand up to his face where you kissed him, could there be a chance you felt the same? He savored the moment with every step he took towards his quarters as he retired for the night.