#then he lost his brother trying to save the girl he loves

[rereisstuff]

RUN DEVIL RUN !

summary: you been crushing on Mingyu since you saw him in the ‘Crush’ stage and he was crushing since…now.

pairing: dksister!idol!reader x idol! Mingyu

note: sooo run devil run is from a different band and 3gen and miss reader sings Jessica and Taeyeon’s lines.

Lee Seokmin loved his family, like all members do, so normally he was jumping around as his little sister performed last in inkygayo.

he had everyone watching the tv on the waiting room.

“that’s her!” he squealed manhandling Dino who was by his side.

and then Mingyu lost breath.

When I become more amazing

You'll pay me back, don't forget

as you sang loudly and sexy there was a lot of things going through his mind just there and then:

1. how come you didn’t reassemble your brother, just in the way you busted your lungs like him.

2. HOW HE NEVER NOTICED YOU.

“she used to have that emo fringe and was emo in general” DK answer to Seungkwan who inquired why he didn’t remembered her from any of the tours or other events with family.

the stage was over and soon voices could be heard from the hall and Dokyeom looked like a jumping ball.

a knock was heard and your brother rushed to open, finding you and your bandmates, using the opportunity as your brother suffocated you, Mingyu ran to the snack table but so did Jun.

“and what the hell you think you’re doing?”Jun whispered loudly and confused as he smacked Mingyu’s hand away from the last sandwich on the table.

“i’m asking Dokyeom’s sister out and you’re ruining it hyung” Mingyu muttered stressing the honorific as he tried to steal the sandwich from the others hand, failing miserably.

“i’m saving you, if it doesn’t work Seokmin would hate you” Jun started writing something on the napkin he was putting on the sandwich “thats why i should be the one asking that other girl with blue hair” he pointed at one of your bandmates.

Seventeen had your band sitting and talking about music and stuff, while Mingyu keep fighting for the damn sandwich.

Dokyeom didn’t seemed to find his best friend close so he started looking and suddenly found him, walking closer.

“i need the sandwich so Dokyeom doesn’t find out i’m interested in his sister!” Mingyu seemed to have lost his mind and was almost yelling at Jun.

Dokyeom heard it, screamed and giggled in silence and ran back to you dragging you out of the talk just to throw you in front of Mingyu and then dragging Jun out of there.

“you don’t need the sandwich!” he yelled as he left.

“so, nice to meet you, i’m Kim Mingyu” he looked like he was trying to make himself smaller as he extended his hand towards you.

“i know who you are Kim Mingyu” you laughed shaking his hand “i’m Seokmin’s sister”.

he laughed and you couldn’t help to sigh at the view, and just then…

“would you like to go out to drink something?”

“would you like to eat sometime?”

“it’s a date!” Seokmin popped out of nowhere.

[priceoftheduchess]

oh, father! where art thou?

part one.

highschool au, long lost lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, grumpy and sunshine-esque dynamics, simon riley & fem!reader.

cw) angst, use of 2nd person, allusions/vague depictions to intimacy eventually, drinking eventually, breakdowns, motherhood, simon riley is father, un-canon lore! all of it eventually

also! credits to the artists of the drawings and rendering used in the banner. they were reposted when i found them without credit, but i want to acknowledge them nonetheless. :(

also! to the one who started this all. @girl-lostconnection , everything i do , i do for you! entire thing inspired by this lovely person! :)

Simon Riley and committal didn’t exist in the same sentence. Not when he was a young lad — too underfed and too damn lanky with too many rough edges. Simon had never craved a permanent presence. As sad (and maybe a bit horrible) as it sounds, Simon wanted no one.

Even as his mother’s last wish was to meet her first daughter-in-law, and to meet her only son’s children.

I’m sorry, Tommy. She’d love you if she could bring herself to remember.

Even as he heard his mother’s last wish, he knew it was just another thing he couldn’t follow through with. Another thing he’d have chipping into his shoulder. I mean, Jesus, who’d want to marry and reproduce with the fucking freak that he is? Jesus.

So, at the ripe age of eighteen, after he’d buried his brother, and lost his father to the bottom of the bottle — like they’d never even fucking existed — he buried his mother.

Eleanor Riley. Gone too soon. Loving wife and mother.

Simon stared blankly as her body was lowered; the fact that he was the only one in attendance besides that fucking priest who will not stop talking burns like pure acid down Simon’s throat. Did she love no one? Was she loved by none, except this poor malnourished teenager, too stoic for his circumstances? Fuck.

Simon miraculously makes his way out of the cemetery, bile rising in his throat. His father was not home when he got there. Unsurprising.

Simon was unsure how to feel. But it seemed most logical to just . . . keep going?

And that, he did. He awoke to a silent home the next morning, all items untouched. His mother’s lipstick still on her wine glass in the sink. His father’s half empty bottle of scotch tipped over onto fabric, staining the couch. His brother’s room, unshaken by the sands of time. Toys strewn on the floor, action figures on the window sill, and comic books haphazardly strewn on the desk.

Let bygones be bygones, Simon.

Simon waited for the bus like normal. Well, like he usually would at this time of day. He didn’t even remember getting dressed.

When he got on the bus, he got nauseous again. Why was everyone looking like they knew? Like they were there, to see her blood dripping from the porcelain? Like they saw how Simon’s ribs were way too obvious to be normal? Like they knew where his father was? Fuck. There is suffering too terrible to name.

But he gets off the bus, and he’s aimlessly roaming the halls — trying to conjure where his first lesson was. Or, any lesson really.

And there you are, walking to orchestra. Dorky, round glasses perched on your nose and your violin clasped tightly in his hand. Buried in your own thoughts, just as Simon was, you two collide.

Your glasses fall onto the ground, clattering around somewhere and you clutch your violin case to yourself in the midst of the fall. Simon is almost unmoved by the collision, save for the backpack strap gone awry.

Apologize, Simon, you need to focus where you’re going. This wasn’t her fault, you were walking too fast and you need to apologize, hand her her glasses, Simon, do something. He thinks frantically.

“Seems like your glasses don’t work too well,” Simon snarks. No, not that something. He scolds himself for not apologizing or even handing you your glasses, and he doesn’t eat lunch that day to punish himself. Weeping over his own fucking lap in the bathroom. Grief is a fickle mistress.

But you are there. He saw your eyes when you stared up at him. Big, glossy and so beautifully colored. He couldn’t even describe it. And your cheeks. So pink, so full of embarrassment. And your legs as you leaned against the wall, trying to compose yourself. You are the sweetest girl in Year 11, and Simon has made a damn fool of himself.

Somehow, perhaps divine intervention, you find yourself at his lunch table a week later. And emphasis on his, because who would ever share a space with this man? You observe him, unabashedly, and ignore your friends as they give you strange looks because again, why are you sitting with him?

His eyes are sunken in, and he’s deathly pale. His arms are stick thin, and it’s a soul-crushing sight within itself. You roll him an apple. Why does he look so angry? You slide a granola bar across the table. His expression softens, but he is still apprehensive.

“Eat,” you order him. And disregarding what you’ve just said, he is sure you’ve spoken gospel with how soft your voice is. He shakes his head, however. Simon doesn’t take orders. He rolls the apple back to you, noticing your lack of any other food.

“Says you.” He says. But his voice is too gruff, and too weak for itself. He’s made a fool of himself again. You roll your eyes and roll the apple back.

“I’m fine. Eat.” You order again, but the bell for third lesson has rung and he’s gone. Leaving the fucking apple and the granola bar.

How will you ever get through to him?

You seem to answer your own question when you get to school thirty minutes earlier than usual, and you catch Simon smoking outside of the orchestra building. What the Hell?

You walk up to him, way too riled up for this early in the morning, and shove the granola bar against his chest.

“Look, I excused you runnin’ in’a me ‘cause maybe you were just zoned out. ‘N’ I excused your l’ttle snarky fucking comment ‘cause I felt bad for you, but don’t reject my food, mate. Bit disrespectful, innit?” You’re nearly as fucking British and Manchurian as he is.

Simon is almost bewildered. He takes the granola bar and shoves it into his pocket after a few beats of silence. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he chuffs, stomping his cigarette beneath his ratty shoe. “I’ll go ‘n’ eat the blasted thing, yeah?” He says before walking off.

Unbelievable.

next part

[smolangeryboii]

And what if i said that Travis deserves better both in the show AND from the fandom? What then?

[karmasloverrr]

godspeed - rafe cameron

pairings- rafe cameron x maybank reader, established relationship

SZN 4 SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!! you’ve been warned

this takes place in ep 10 right after everyone’s fighting and all that

———————————————————————————

The adrenaline was still running through your vains, like the hot, dusty sand you all found yourself in over the past couple of hours. Your hands are shaking, can’t fully grasp the weight of what you’ve just done.

“Baby?” You snap out of your shocked haze when a pair of comforting, familiar hands come to rest on the side of your waist , “a-are you ok?” His blue, stress ridden eyes bore into yours.

You take a shaky breath in, letting the gun you held drop to the ground below your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jump up into him. “He almost killed you, Rafe. I thought I was gonna lose you, I-I didn’t have any other choice, he was so close to-“, your rambling was paused by him shushing you quietly and rubbing a hand soothingly up and down your back, his other gripping the back of your head like his life depended on it.

“I know, I know, breathe Y/N, breathe” You were sobbing now. Not out of remorse for one of Dalia’s men, whom you had just shot dead out of defense for Rafe, but because you almost lost the love of your life.

Rafe pulls away, still keeping a hand on your back, keeping you close. “You just saved my life, Y/N. I’m so proud of you for being strong, it’s gonna be ok.” He was now using a thumb to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

You nod frantically in understanding, sniffiling and leaning into his palms touch. Bringing a hand to his on your cheek, you intertwine fingers. “Are you o-ok? I mean you almost just got stabbed, Rafe. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if-“. He places both hands on your face now, demanding your attention.

“Hey, listen to me. You did exactly what I would’ve done if you were just in my situation, ok? Hell, I would’ve beat that fuckers face in before I let him get the chance to even go near you so don’t overthink this for a second, do you understand? I love you so much.”

You licked your lips and nodded. After Rafe had told you to stay with Kiara when he went to bide JJ some time with the crown, he got into trouble with one of Dalia’s men and hadn’t come back. You couldn’t stay still knowing he was by himself.

Despite protest from Kiara and how your brother needed you right now, you ran to look for Rafe. You could hear the sound of distress and punches being thrown before you could see them. Even through poor visibility you knew it was Rafe, your Rafe, being attacked. As you got closer you could see that he was being held at knife point and without thinking you pulled the gun out that rested at your hip and fired at the man’s back.

With JJ’s constant tutorials and a little bit of practice over the years you hit your target dead on. Except this time it wasn’t a beer bottle or a teddy bear, it was a human being and nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

Rafe continued to try and work you down from the shock and complete panic, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hairline. He eventually brought a smile onto your face when he praised your accuracy and said how bad ass it was, “that’s my girl”.

“It was kind of badass wasn’t it?” He let out a laugh at your rebuttal. Even in your state of mind, the sound of it made your stomach tingle with butterflies.

“If I’m gonna be honest, after I realized what just happened and saw you standing there, I got a little turned o-“, you scoffed at his antics and pushed him away from you playfully. “Shut up.”

He pulled you back into him before you got any farther, wrapping both arms around your waist, in turn you grabbed his biceps, looking into the eyes that you love so much.

You let your smile fade a little when you saw his eyes glaze over, knowing he was about to get emotional.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You saved me and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, please don’t feel guilty or anything like that. I would do anything for you too, y’know that.”

“I know, and seeing you like that, in that danger, made me sick and I-I just blacked out.” He nodded slowly in understanding, “but I’d do it again if it meant that you were ok.” you continued.

You were now the one stroking his arms in comfort, his head nodding up and down telling you he was processing it all. Now putting yourself on your tip toes to reach his face, you placed your lips on his in a loving kiss.

Pulling away, you placed your forehead on his. “It’s you and me, Cameron. Always.” He pulled away and placed a loving peck on the crown of your head, “Damn right, sweetheart.”

Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk back towards the direction that Kiara and JJ were. “Let’s go see if J found this fucking thing.”

Rafe scoffed but followed your lead, “I’ve had enough of this fairytale pogue sh-“, you gave him a ‘really?’ look, to which he held his hand up in defense and shrugged.

“They’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta hand it to them and besides, this is a little exciting don’t you think?”

He frowned and shook his head, “Almost just got stabbed to death but yeah, sure, having a grand old time.” You giggled at his sarcasm, used to it by now.

Walking up the hill, you exaggeratedly began to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to which he protested against immediately stating “this isn’t a rom-com, please stop” but deep down, he loved seeing you make light out of a shitty situation.

He knows it’s due to you being so used to doing it because of Luke growing up, which never fails to make his heart beat in rage, but everything in his world is ok, perfect, when he gets to see you smiling like this.

When you both reach the top, there’s an absence of your little brother and Kiara that causes your smile and stomach to drop. The sandstorm passed yet they’re still nowhere in sight.

“JJ?” you call out, in hopes that they’re possibly somewhere in ear range. Nothing.

“J! Kie! Guys?” You let go of Rafe’s hand, heading to go circle around the statue.

“Woah, don’t go by yourself. If they’re someplace close by they sure as hell didn’t stick around here, let’s head back towards the buildings. They probably met back up with John B and Sarah.”

You shook your head, “No, if they got the crown and were ok, they would’ve just came and found us. Rafe, somethings not right.” You started to head more towards the statue in hopes that they went a different direction but Rafe steps infront of you before you can get any further.

“Hey, stop. I know you’re worried but incase you forgot, it’s not just them that Daria’s men are looking for, ok? I’m not letting you get hurt in the process of trying to find them.”

You took the arm that he held out to his side as a barrier and shoved it. “Rafe, that’s my brother, please we need to at least look around the area and see-“ He began to side step along with you so you couldn’t move around him.

“I understand that, Y/N/N, but let’s use the brain I know you have and think rationally, alright? They probably went back with the group assuming we were there too, ok? Let’s start there.”

You shook your head in annoyance, you’ve always been stubborn and you’re certainly not budging about this. “All I’m saying, Rafe, is that we check around the area first, m-maybe they didn’t hear me when I yelled.”

“Baby, please listen to m-“

“John B! Pope! Y/N!”

You whipped your head to the direction of Kiara’s wail echoing through the air. A sound of desperation like you’ve never heard and don’t wanna hear again. “Oh my god.” you whispered in fear.

Rafe looked at you with agony in his eyes, recognizing the same fret in her voice that you did. Without any hesitation you took off down the hill, not listening to Rafe’s protest to “wait for him”.

Your mind was moving as fast as your legs, you didn’t know where you were going but it’s like your body knew exactly where to take you.

Weaving down and through the same maze like corridors that you had escaped from earlier led you closer to the sounds of your friends, “Kie?”, you yelled out in despair, now acknowledging Rafe’s footsteps a few seconds behind you.

You felt the room before you saw it, your stomach already declaring that somethings wrong, very wrong. Before you could brace yourself, you saw the image infront of you. Blood. John B shaking him. Kiara with her head on his chest and hands on his stomach. JJ.

“JJ?” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as it barely came out of your mouth, cracking and whispery, desperate and defeated.

Stumbling to a halt against Rafe’s chest, you felt your legs giving out from underneath you, a pair of arms coming to catch you before you collapsed. No, not him, please God, don’t do this to me, no. Rafe’s arms were the only thing keeping you stable while you began to crumble, him collapsing down to the floor with you as weeps exited your mouth, shaking your whole body.

You didn’t have to look at him very long to know he’s gone, you could feel it. Sobs and pleads from the group didn’t register against your own. It sounded so foreign coming out of your body. “He’s dead” you sobbed, physically feeling your heart breaking. “JJ, no”, you wailed. Your head feels a thousand pounds as you slowly lift it off the ground.

Rafe has his own placed against the top of your spine, his forehead making a known presence on your back, still gripping your arms as if you’ll go too if he doesn’t. To the best of your ability you try to stand, legs still feeling mush as you feel Rafe’s touch disappear the closer you get to your little brother.

Halfway through, you give up on the poor excuse for walking and collapse back to the ground again, now crawling towards his lifeless body. “JJ, wake up, please!”. The only sounds you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your sobbing screams and your heart breaking.

Your palm meets his face, already feeling so cold and lifeless, the exact opposite of JJ Maybank. “Please don’t do this to me. W-wake up, JJ!”. You continue stroking his cheek, patting it lightly a few times, hoping, begging, pleading for your brother to wake up.

Stroking his hair, you shake your head out of disbelief. Hushed whispers exit your lips, trying to reach the deepest parts of him.“I can’t do this without you JJ, don’t leave me.” It’s been you and him against the world, the shit hand you’ve been given wasn’t too bad when you had each other to fall back on.

Growing up you found solice in each other, you didn’t need anyone to help you or comfort you, you had your little brother and he had his older sister. When Luke was to drunk to help JJ get ready for school in the morning, it was you brushing his hair, picking out his outfit, making his lunch. With your mother long gone, you took pride in being that figure in his life and it was your greatest achievement, seeing the man he had turned into, no matter how rebellious and defiant, you loved him like your own, and now that he’s gone, what’s left for you?

“Who was it? Kiara, who did this to him?” you now turned your attention from JJ to Kie, her looking just as horrified as the rest of the group. A look of disgusted rage took over your face, your stomach bubbling with hatred.

She sniffled before speaking, “Chandler, h-he stabbed him, I- JJ saved me and gave him the crown, I don’t know- I can’t.” She began to sob, recalling the traumatic moment.

Motherfucker. If the betrayal wasn’t enough, knowing JJ was just trying to save his loved one and this is how he’s repaid?

You can’t see or think straight, one moment you’re mourning the loss of your best friend and the next you’re taking all the strength you have left and standing up with the gun on your hip, reloading the clip and heading towards the direction Kie said he went.

You don’t get very far before Sarah and John B rush to your side. “Y/N. Stay. We need you right now. Don’t do this.” You shake them off of you, sending your elbow into John B’s stomach in the process. “Get the fuck off of me.”

You whip around and point the gun at the group, they look at you in shock, not processing what’s going on. Your breathing is uneasy as you lick the forming sweat off your lips. “If any of you touch me one more time, I swear t-to God. I’m going to kill Groff and none of you are getting in my way.”

Looking around you see the faces of your best friends, sad, confused, and angry. The gun pointed at them has your stomach dropping. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” The gun you have aimed at them is making you sick all over again.

Rafe takes a few hesitant steps forward when he sees you begin to rub your chest anxiously, knowing it’s your way of trying to work your way down from a panic attack.

“Sweetheart, put the gun down, ok?” None of his words are registering with you. He’s gone, he’s gone, JJ’s dead.

Rafe catches you just before you start to collapse again, this time into the comfort of his chest and arms. He takes the gun that’s hanging loosely from your hand and reaches it behind his back for John B to take.

“Rafe, he’s dead. He’s g-gone.” sobbing the dreadful words into his chest, his shirt catching your tears. You’re both on the ground now, him cradling you like a toddler as he rocks you back and forth in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes your hair and rubs your back, soaking in all of your pain. Your sobs begin to muffle as the others join in with you, still begging JJ to wake up, to open his eyes and to come back.

The weight of the air feels similar to your chest, no matter how much comfort and apologies Rafe whispers into your hair, it’s still not enough, your baby brothers gone and he’s never coming back.

The warmth of the fire fans your face. Emotionally and physically drained is where you and the Pogues have found yourself. Rafe keeps a steady eye on you as your head leans against his shoulder, knowing the last time you spoke was a few hours ago when he buried JJ, none of you being able to bring yourselves to do it.

Stray tears slip down your face, your expression remaining uninterested and dry. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional sniffing from the group and the cracks of the wood in the dying out fire infront of you.

You feel Rafe’s heartbeat against your back and his chest move when he talks. “I don’t know. If it was my friend I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him, yeah?” You take a steady breath in, getting ready to defend him when Pope tells him to “shut up”.

“You guys think that JJ would just sit here if it was one of us?” The whole group turns its attention to you, knowing you’ve been far too quiet for far too long, like JJ, you can be a ticking time bomb in moments like these.

John B is the first to speak up, “We all know what JJ would do. He’d get even.” You nod, still looking at the fire, kicking some sand as you stand up to begin pacing in rage.

Rafe watches your moves carefully, ready to defend you and back you up for whatever you’re about to say. He trusts you and he’s knows your best interest, you could tell him the sky was purple and he’d agree, while placing a loving kiss on your cheek.

You shake your head in agreement, feeling the never subsided rage bubble back up into your throat.

“Revenge.”

———————————————————————————

[algae-tm]

MATCH MY FREAK

Max Verstappen x Heiress! reader

You have a reputation for being high maintenance, Max thinks you’re perfect (oneshot)

Author’s Note: if you can’t tell I have major writers block on my kill bill series… this is why you plan folks! I’ve kinda written myself into a corner. However, I love doing these lil oneshots so here’s another :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

MESSAGES

yourusername just posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and 5,234,432 others

yourusername : mom, i am a rich man

view all comments

user1 : a rich man yet all your exes say you bleed them dry

— user3 : at that point it’s a skill issue… if they knew they couldn’t keep up they shouldn’t have started dating her

— user1 : you females will defend each other no matter how in the wrong you are. — user3 : not fighting with a dude who calls women females

—user1 : lmao cause you know you’re wrong

user5 : I think oomf on twitter was right, she likes lavish things so she buys them and the men in her life are threatened.

— maxverstappen1 : couldn’t be me I’m very secure in my masculinity!

— user5 : MAX VERSTAPPEN!!!!??????

— user6 : what is bro doing here

— user8 : y/n’s freshly single and brother decides to shoot his shot lmao 🤣🤣

— user1 : brother run away whilst you can she’ll only drain your energy and your bank account.

— maxverstappen1 : me and my bank account can handle it

carlossainz55 : bro @maxverstappen1 thank you for lending me that 5 million euros after I lost my job! — maxverstappen1 : the least I can do brother!

landonorris : Max Verstappen let me win the Miami gp! — maxverstappen1 : No bro it was all you!

georgerussell63 : hey dude @maxverstappen1 when do you want me to return that lambo you lent me?

— maxverstappen1 : of course you can just keep it!

charles_leclerc : max verstappen saved my mother and my dog from my burning yacht, then gave me his spare yacht cause he felt bad!

— maxverstappen1 : no worries say hi to pascale and Leo for me!

danielricciardo : Max Verstappen is the most passionate lover I’ve ever had!

— maxverstappen1 : bro what? — maxverstappen1 : this is not true!

— user6 : lmao Dan I don’t think you did this correctly…

—danielricciardo : I only speak the truth 🤭

maxverstappen1: oh what a coincidence I am also a rich man, we should talk about our similarities over dinner

lewishamilton : catch flights not feelings

— yourusername : so right lew 🖤

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

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yourusername : is somebody gonna match my freak?

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user23 : isn’t the saying like luxury whispers or something?

— yourusername : why should I whisper? My people deserve to be luxurious loudly!

lewishamilton : I actually have the perfect person to ‘match your freak’ he’s equally as weird as you

— yourusername : 🤨🤨🤨 I’m all ears

— maxverstappen1 : me me me!! He’s talking about me

MESSAGES

A YEAR LATER • INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1 just posted

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maxverstappen1 : I MATCHED HER FREAK!!

view all comments

yourusername : yeah you did baby!!

danielricciardo : that should be me 😔😔

— yourusername : stop trying to steal my man!

— danielricciardo : he was mine first!!

— user42 : this dynamic is everything

user44 : max actually bagged a baddie??

— user56 : they’re gunna divorce in like 2 years once he realises she’s too high maintenance…

— maxverstappen1 : NUH UH

lewishamilton : for the role I played any children you have should be named Lewis…

— maxverstappen1 : you extorted me!

— lewishamilton : I helped you get the girl!

— yourusername : yeah max, was I not worth the extortion??

— maxverstappen1 : what no, of course you were! I’d be extorted 1 million times for you!

— user65 : wow they really do match each others freak…

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TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[opiopal]

one thing that often crosses my mind, is the brothers watching mams fall in love with Mc and they just can’t bring themselves to be upset about it,

Because all of a sudden he’s getting lost in thought staring at them, he starts to actually save some money just to buy things for them, he gets bashful whenever they’re around and tries extra hard to tell a story or two were he seems cool.

At first they think it’s laughable(and maybe a little pathetic), but every time they go to tease him about it the only thing he can really manage is a simple “shut up” before continuing on, mostly because he knows they’re right. He’s inlove with a human.. and so what!? He’s the Avatar of Greed! One of the seven lords! The Great Mammon! He can do whatever he wants, however he wants, whenever he wants!

but as time passes he doesn’t even say anything back to them when they go to tease, maybe one day asmo leans over to ask what he could be staring at- only for mams to not even mumble anything back or look his way, because he’s just so occupied with staring at Mc who’s just across the room. Maybe they aren’t even doing anything, maybe they’re in class and the teacher called mc up to do a problem on the board- or maybe they’re at diavolos place and mc is chatting with someone. Whatever it is, the look in mammons eyes is enough to not make asmo offended from being blatantly ignored. Sure he knows he couldn’t understand what mams see’s in that human, but knows love when he see’s it. so, over time as asmo starts to watch his brother and the human, he gains a small appreciation for their dorky little relationship… though the appreciation stops being small since he fan girls whenever he see’s them holding hands or whenever mams rushes over to gift mc something small, only for mc to gush and act as if he just gave them the entire world! They’re both just the cutest together!! And he has no idea how he didn’t see it before!? Sure it’s funny to his older brother acting a fool,(when is he not?) but it’s adorable to watch him stumble over himself when doing something as simple as walking Mc to class! It’s just so cute!!

asmo then starts defending mams whenever the others say something or try to tease, maybe at first it’s a quick, “oh don’t say that,” “they’re cute! Don’t be so rude!” “Oh guys don’t tease,” But one day, when mc and mammon both leave the dining room, maybe to go grab something or to do a task that clearly doesn’t need two people, and asmo pipes up, ”you know, im serious,”

everyone turns to look at him a little confused,

“..as in they’re absolutely adorable together!”

“oh barf.” Levi says, not looking up from his phone, a few others mumble in agreement,

“what! You guys seriously can’t say you haven’t noticed how mammon is around them, it’s the cutest!”

There’s a moment of silence at the table and Asmo huffs,

“come on, when was the last time any of you saw him saving his money to buy someone ELSE something?? It’s clear he’s taking this seriously!”

they all take a second to think before exchanging looks with each other,

then from that point they all start to really pay attention- honestly, I could imagine mc and mams not really being quite open with their relationship when they finally do make it official, but they are REALLY bad at hiding it. so the entire household takes notice once the two start holding hands more often, giggling at seemingly nothing at all, running off together randomly at different points in the day, sitting much closer together during meals, and the two are always touching each other, from a full on grab to just leaning on each other. So of course instead of mocking mams for his feelings.. the teasing moves on to flustering the two about their very obvious not-so-secret relationship. Even luci joins in, occasionally asking mc when they’ll marry his little brother, which flusters the both of them. And unfortunately causes the others to join in.

at least they’re supportive<3

[heliads]

wouldn't you love to love her? - jack hughes

The New Jersey Devils have a new social media intern. Jack Hughes is determined not to care at all, except for the fact that he does.

masterlist

“We’re getting a new social media intern,” Luke remarks offhandedly.

Jack tries not to roll his eyes. He’s not sure he succeeds. For as long as he’s been at the Devils, there have been perhaps dozens of new social media interns, one after another in a chain of pretty girls shoving phones into his face. Every time, it’s always the same. Another girl, fresh from college or in between jobs, asking him and the others to learn dances or take part in trends. Luke will flirt with the intern. Dawson too, probably. Even Jack, when he gets bored. Then, the internship will be up in a month or two, and they’ll get another one. Prettier, maybe, or funnier. And the cycle will begin again.

It’s not like he can really blame them, either. The hockey industry is precious, even for people who aren’t playing. If these girls want in, an internship is a great way to start. Any entry post’s a good one if it gets you where you want. Only, social media’s a pain. Jack came here to play hockey, not be in a dozen new photos and videos a day. It drives him crazy sometimes, or all the time.

So, when his brother tells him they’re getting another intern, he really couldn’t care less. Luke, more prone to fits of passion over the latest girl in Devils red, is still staring at him wide eyed, waiting for a reaction, so Jack rolls his eyes and gives him one.

“Good,” he says dully. “It’s been too long since I saw a phone camera shoved in my face. Can’t wait.”

Luke groans. “Come on, man. They’re fun, don’t give me that bullshit again. Besides, I saw you trying to buy the last one drinks.”

Jack can’t argue with this. He had been trying. It was something to do. “Won’t do it this time. I’ll leave that for you.”

Luke heaves another dramatic sigh. Jack wants to do something to stop the oppressive judgment, so he does, snatching the hat off Luke’s head and shoving it towards his mouth. Luke, predictably, nearly falls out of his chair and starts squawking indignantly. Jack just chuckles and gets up from his seat, heading towards the door. They’ve been idling in one of the cafes in the massive arena where they practice, called there early for business stuff that ended up getting delayed. Meetings always run late, and now Jack has the rare feeling of tardiness not actually being his fault.

He heads down the hall towards the locker rooms, ready at last for practice. Luke follows a few paces behind him, still complaining, something about saving violence for the ice. Bullshit, obviously. Jack does what he wants, where he wants. Hasn’t Luke figured that out by now?

Jack steals a glance over his shoulder just to rub in the injury. Luke meets his gaze and glowers, still pissy from almost taking a nose dive off his chair, but all of a sudden his eyes widen at something in front of them. Jack whips around just in time to collide with someone exiting one of the offices.

It’s not an accidental almost-impact, either, this is a complete disaster. Papers go flying. Jack manages to keep his balance, but the victim of his distraction is worse off. He has to fling out both hands to steady them, catching at their arms at the elbow before they fall over. A dozen apologies rise to his lips, but Jack only gets through about half of them before he actually looks at the person he’s just bumped into– and look, indeed, he does.

Jack has just run into a girl his age, and a very pretty girl at that. He gets lost in her eyes without even meaning to, captivated by the way the light shines in them as she opens her mouth and says, “What the hell are you doing?”

Jack blinks in surprise, feeling like he’s just been abruptly pulled out of a dream. “Huh?”

The girl stares at him like he’s crazy. “Why are you holding onto me?”

Too late, Jack realizes he never actually let go of her when he was trying to steady her. He snatches his hands away, the sinking feeling settling in that he actually has no idea how long he was standing there, captivated. No wonder this girl thinks he’s insane. This random guy comes up, runs into her, then silently holds her in his arms for what’s probably more than just a second or two? Yeah, that’s crazy in anyone’s books.

“Sorry,” Jack says again. They look at each other warily for a moment longer, then collectively, both gazes drop to the papers spilled across the ground.

Immediately, Jack dives for them, trying to gather as many as he can. He springs up again, and, not trusting himself to say anything that isn’t stupid, just awkwardly holds out the papers until she takes them. The girl gives him one last disbelieving glance, then walks purposefully past him. Jack turns and watches her go, wondering why he feels vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t stopped to talk longer. He didn’t even get her name.

Raucous laughter breaks out the second the girl disappears around a corner. Belatedly, Jack remembers that Luke has witnessed the whole thing, which is just great. The last thing Luke needs is more ammunition for making fun of him.

“That was, like, the least smooth thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Luke chokes out. “What the fuck was that?”

Heat flares into Jack’s cheeks. “Shut up,” he says, turning back to continue walking down the hallway.

Luke, however, is unwilling to let go of the horrific blunder. He trots up to walk by Jack’s side, regardless of how much Jack tries to pick up the pace. “I mean, Jesus. Way to make an entrance. Poor girl’s probably going to log that with HR.”

“Shut up,” Jack repeats through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen you do worse in front of fans.”

“We’re not talking about me right now, we’re talking about you,” Luke says happily. “I’m so telling Quinn about this.”

“You are not,” Jack warns, but even after many threats of serious violence, he’s not entirely convinced that his older brother won’t hear about this.

Jack almost manages to put the whole thing out of his mind until he and the others are hanging out in the locker room later that day. They’re all dressed, but their coach wanted a few words before they hit the ice, apparently something bureaucratic that Jack can’t wait to forget.

Instead of being introduced to a new friend of the owner or some wealthy donor, however, Coach announces that they’ll be meeting their new social media intern. Online presence is crucial for sponsors, apparently, and the Devils need to up their game. So they say. Jack thinks it’s a lot of nonsense, and is fully prepared to treat it as such until their coach beckons the new intern into the room and Jack realizes he knows her. This isn’t a stranger, someone he can ignore without another thought. This is the pretty girl Jack just ran into earlier today, and she’s the one in charge of most of his Internet footprint.

Great.

Across the room, Luke is grinning ear to ear. This is so not what Jack wanted. The coach is saying something about how they’ll all be pulled one by one today for introductions and a few quick videos that can be parceled out during the next week or so. Usually, they would ask Nico first, captain rights and all that, but they need him to advise on some drills, so they go for the next best– Jack himself.

They’ll be filming TikToks or whatever a few halls over so as to not distract anyone, so Jack makes his way over with no small amount of trepidation. She hadn’t seemed so excited to meet him earlier, but maybe she’ll have forgotten who he was. It was a fast exchange. Maybe this means nothing at all, and they will have a great meeting, and he could even get her number or something. Yeah, not a problem.

The girl is setting up a phone on a stand when Jack shows up. She glances once at him as he approaches, then nods. “Oh, we’re starting with Mr. Observant. Cool.”

Jack feels his face turn a bright scarlet. “I’m not– I’m sorry about that. Honestly. I just didn’t see you.”

“That’s fine,” the girl says with a listless wave of her hand. “It was funny. I just thought hockey players would have more reflexes or something, I don’t know. Anyway, what’s your name, again?”

This is a simple question. It really is. Yet for some reason, Jack finds himself bothered. He’s been with the team for a while now, had that A on his uniform for a while now, and maybe he shouldn’t, but he’s gotten comfortable with his reputation. People know who he is. He’s recognized on the street, asked for photos while he’s getting coffee, all of that. And now this girl– this intern– is pretending like she doesn’t know who he is, and insulting his reflexes to boot?

“Jack,” Jack replies tersely. “Are you going to tell me your name, or should I just guess?”

“Y/N,” the girl answers him. “What do you do on the ice except run into people?”

“I play hockey,” Jack deadpans. “What else do you want me to say?”

Y/N just smiles at him, the picture of innocence. “Your position? This is supposed to be an introduction, isn’t it? I have to make sure I have a good picture of the team.”

Fine. Fine. Jack can be civil. He’s going to play along and then he’s going to leave and make somebody else deal with her.

“Yeah, position. I'm an alternate captain, a center. Left wing. That matters.” He feels like he’s rambling. This is stupid. He’s stupid. He never does this.

“Sure it does,” Y/N says, one eyebrow raised. “Do you have to tell everyone you’re cool or just the interns?”

“Huh?” Jack asks. “I’m not– I’m just talking.”

Y/N nods. “I’m sure you do. Talking and hockey, that’s impressive. I can see why the Devils wanted you.”

“Your team spirit needs some work,” Jack notes. “Why’d they hire you, your winning personality?”

“That, and I’m wonderful at making infographics,” Y/N informs him breezily.

“I bet they’re terrible,” Jack says on instinct. “Clashing colors and all that. Can you even draw a straight line?”

Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I don’t know, can you shoot on goal without getting injured?”

Jack takes a step forward on instinct before he remembers that he cannot fight social media interns and backs down. Still, the anger simmers in his head so bad he’s not sure if the red all around him is for the Devils or just the film of rage clouding his eyes.

This isn’t good for him. His team needs him out there on the ice with a level head, even in practice. Jack forces a smile and says, “I guess you’ll see at our next game, won’t you?”

Y/N meets his gaze with a mirror smirk, which bothers Jack more than if she’d tried to one-up him again. He grabs his stick with more force than necessary, making himself step past her and onto the ice before he does something he’ll regret. Once he’s out there, skating broad loops to warm up, Jack can almost put the whole exchange out of his head.

Almost. 

Luke finds him after practice, because of course he does. Somedays, Luke swears that little brothers must be born with an innate knowledge of how to stick their heads into other people’s business. Fleetingly, he wonders what Quinn would think about that, then moves on before that lesson can settle in.

“I love our new intern,” Luke says happily on the drive back to their apartment.

Jack scoffs. “Sure you do. You love rubbing this in my face.”

Luke glances at him, surprised. “No, honestly. I think she’s great. Super funny, too.”

Jack turns to stare at him with disbelief so abruptly he almost swerves the car into a telephone pole. Veering to correct course, Jack spits out, “Y/N? You think Y/N is great?”

Once Luke stops pretending like they’ve almost died– which they didn’t, by the way, Jack had everything under control– he calms down enough to say, “Yeah, I do. She was super nice to me. I need to ask if she’s local so we can hang after the internship ends.”

Jack feels as if he’s been dropped into an alternate reality. “You’re serious. You really do like Y/N?”

Now Luke’s looking at him like he’s the crazy one. “Like I said, yeah. Why, what happened when you talked to her? Was she still mad about earlier?”

“You could say that,” Jack grits out, knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Luke chuckles. “That’s kind of funny, actually.”

“It is not,” Jack mutters, but Luke remains in high spirits the whole drive back anyway.

To the great amusement of his younger brother, Jack and Y/N continue to be at odds the next time the Devils have to film social media videos, and the next time, and the next. Even when they start off a meeting on relatively stable ground, something will happen to have them sniping again, and they’ll be at each other’s throats by the time they leave the building in the evening.

What makes it worse is that Jack is apparently the only one suffering from Y/N’s cold shoulder. Everyone from the captain to the rookies seems to have gotten along just fine with their newest social media intern, yet Jack feels like he walks around with a target on his back every time she’s in office. They’ve started to ignore each other instead of purposely tossing insults, but that’s as close as he’ll ever get to a truce.

Jack has started counting down the days until she leaves. He would love some peace and quiet. Maybe the next intern will be normal, or they’ll all be poisoned forever just because Y/N L/N showed up and changed Jack’s life for good.

God, he feels like she’s crept into every part of his world. He’ll be scrolling on his phone and the videos she filmed will appear on his For You page out of nowhere. Jack swears he can sense her in every quick cut, every box of text, every song selection. Walking through the arena, he sees her everywhere– ducking into a meeting room, discussing potential videos with some of the PR agents, tucked into the bleachers so she can watch them practice and snap some shots. Jack is starting to seriously wonder if there has ever been a time when she hasn’t been wound around him like a loose thread come undone from his favorite coat.

Even now, he can see her. Jack has finally left a late-night practice, breath fogging up in the cold evening air. He’s glad for the warmth of his car when he slides in. Luke went back with some friends, but Jack had wanted to hang around a while longer to practice some skills before the next game.

Y/N must have been working late too, because he can see her now, walking out of the parking lot and towards the sidewalk leading into town. Jack assumes she’s waiting for someone to pick her up, but Y/N’s steps don’t show any indication of slowing down. Is she actually walking on a night like this? Jack is cold just thinking about the weather outside. Y/N has a coat on, but it won’t be enough to discourage the bite of the wind.

Before he can even think about what he’s doing, he’s pulled his car alongside her. Y/N looks panicked when he comes to a stop, but relaxes somewhat when Jack rolls down the window and calls out to her. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m walking back. Have a nice night.”

She turns back to the sidewalk, evidently expecting him to keep driving. Jack also expects himself to keep driving, but he doesn’t. “It’s awfully cold to be walking. How far is your apartment?”

“Not far,” Y/N says. “Twenty minutes, maybe?”

That settles it. “You’re not walking twenty minutes in the freezing cold,” Jack decides. “Besides, I thought you were dropped off. Isn’t someone coming to pick you up?”

Y/N pauses oddly, and it occurs to Jack that he probably shouldn’t be noticing how she gets to and from work each day. Still, when she speaks again, he’s pretty sure the annoyance in her voice isn’t directed at him, for once. “I was dropped off, but my friend canceled on me. Hence the walk.”

Jack’s mood immediately sours. That’s a shitty move for sure, and even if he doesn’t always see eye to eye with Y/N, he’d never leave her out here, shivering even after a few minutes of walking. And he won’t tonight, either.

“I can drive you, if you like,” Jack offers abruptly. He’s not sure why he does it. He never has before. They’ve never been in a position like this before, and maybe they won’t either. Still, he doesn’t take it back.

Y/N, apparently heedless of the gravity of this offer, just smiles and shakes her head. “That’s alright, I’ll just call an Uber. Thanks, though.’

Jack blinks and stares at her. It had taken such a rush to get the words out that it honestly didn’t occur to him that she would just say no. “Is this because you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” Y/N laughs. “I’m walking. You should get going soon, you’re going to disrupt traffic.”

“Fuck traffic, you’re cold,” Jack says disbelievingly. “Get in the car, Y/N. Please?”

She looks like she’s going to argue, but a particularly frigid gust of wind rips through that thin jacket and a moment later, Y/N is settling into his passenger seat. She turns to look at him, and Jack looks back at her, just a few spans apart. They’re close enough that he can see the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinks. Close enough that he could reach out and touch the slow bloom of cold on her cheek if he just tried.

“So?” Jack manages to pull himself together long enough to ask, “What’s your address?”

Y/N blinks, evidently startled out of some reverie, then pulls it up on her phone. Jack follows the directions, fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. The car is quiet, and it weighs on him like a burden until he finally blurts out, “Why do you hate me, though?”

Y/N looks baffled. “I don’t hate you.”

Jack snorts. “Of course you do. You get along with every single member of this team but me, it’s a little hard not to take that personally. Come on, just tell me. Is it because I ran into you that first day?”

Y/N laughs again. It’s one of the few times it’s with him, not at him, and Jack lets the sound wash over him like sunlight. It’s a good sound. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again, maybe.

“That was funny. No, it wasn’t that. It’s just–” Her voice drops off, suddenly serious. “Do you remember Emma? She was your social media intern last summer. She’s the one who suggested I take this program, actually.”

Vague memories appear in Jack’s head. “Kind of? We’ve had a lot of interns.”

“Yeah, well, she’s one of my best friends, and the most important piece of advice she gave me before I started was to stay the hell away from you.”

Jack almost misses his turn. “What? Why?”

He risks a glance away from the road and towards her, but Y/N is keeping her head perfectly straight, not allowing herself to look at him in the slightest. “Something about you breaking her heart. She seems to remember you flirting a lot, buying her drinks, then dumping her for someone more interesting the second the internship ended.”

Jack winces. “That does sound familiar, actually. Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

Y/N interrupts him with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, no, I get it. I love Emma, I really do, but she’s got a habit of moving quickly. Still, she was really hurt for a while. I figured anyone who could do that to my friend and not even remember was someone who didn’t need me to be nice to them.”

Guilt starts to pool in Jack’s stomach, icing him down to the core. “Still. I was a dick.”

“You still are, on occasion,” Y/N says, smiling slightly, “But I’ve been bad too, I think. I wanted to get revenge for my friend, but I’ve been more mean than needed. I’m sorry too.”

Jack comes to a slow stop in front of one of the notoriously long red lights of their shared city. As the scarlet of the traffic light washes over them, Jack takes advantage of the stopped traffic to hold out a hand to her. “How about a truce, then? If we’re both sorry?”

Y/N considers his outstretched hand, then nods at last and shakes it. “I’m good with that. Let’s start over.”

“Let’s start over,” Jack repeats. 

Her hand is still a little cold in his, even after the few minutes they’ve spent talking. It occurs to Jack that he could probably sit here for a while longer, warm her hands up with his, and then Y/N nudges him in the side and Jack realizes the light has turned green. He drops her hand hastily, turning back to the road in the hopes that she won’t notice the slow flush of heat to his cheeks.

The rest of the drive back is uneventful. Jack offers to walk Y/N to the door of her apartment complex, which Y/N jokingly calls creepy then smiles for real when he insists. They part with a promise to try harder next time, and Jack doesn’t think his feet have ever felt so light on the walk back from practice. He goes to bed that night like a little kid, practically giddy at the thought of the day ahead.

Looking back on it, Jack isn’t sure what he expected to happen with them after that. A celebration, maybe some fanfares? Or just a normal conversation in which she expressed how glad she was to see him and Jack could do the same? He doesn’t get any of that. In fact, they hardly see each other for most of the next few days. This isn’t too unexpected; although they love to complain, the players and media don’t see each other that often unless someone’s sworn on live TV or otherwise messed up their online presence.

Still, by the time Jack’s path finally crosses with Y/N’s, he’s really hoping for something special. He’s sort of crazy the whole time they’re filming videos, all raised eyebrows and hopeful glances, but instead of seizing the opportunity to make fun of him, Y/N just giggles a little and goes on with her life. It’s not bad, all things considered, but Jack– Jack wants more.

When hasn’t he, after all, wanted more? He wants to be better at skating. He wants to score more goals. He wants to stop getting brushed off by the commentators. He wants, more than anything, for some reason, for the pretty girl interning for their media department to do more than just look at him with a faint smile every now and then.

The sheer wanting starts to consume him. Jack goes out of his way to be exceptionally funny, astoundingly clever, practically fantastic in every way, yet nothing seems to wow Y/N. They’re just talking, which is certainly more than he had a few weeks ago, but Jack doesn’t want to just be talking to her, he wants to be back in his car again, with her leaning over and laughing at his jokes, her cold hands in his, telling him that maybe she’d misjudged him after all. Jack doesn’t just want more, he wants her, and that is making him insane.

Worse still is the fact that he doesn’t have her. Jack has spent his whole life, it feels like, hating the ‘pretty boy hockey player’ persona. He’s certain it’s cost him deals or trades or something over the years with the way people refuse to take him seriously. Yet now, Jack isn’t cursing its existence, but rather wondering why the hell it hasn’t worked. He’s still the same guy, same face. That stubborn acne patch on his chin has been clear for weeks now. He got a haircut, and people said it was good this time. Everything should be in his favor, looks-wise. So why doesn’t it seem to have a single effect?

It’s baffling, honestly. Jack cannot stand it. Worse still, the internship period is starting to slip away, and soon enough Y/N will be gone for good, leaving Jack to reel in her absence and wonder why he couldn’t make her like him enough to stay.

His mood sours whenever he thinks about it, which is often. Like now, even, in between Jack’s hours on the ice. They’re swapping out players in shifts, and Jack won’t be on for another five minutes or so. He’s sitting on one of the metal bleachers, hoping that watching the others will help keep his mind off things, but it’s not working too well.

Someone sits down right next to him, and Jack is about to start asking why they couldn’t pick anywhere fucking else to sit when he realizes it’s Y/N.

“Oh,” he says, trying desperately to sound cool and not bone-tired from practice, “Hey. D’you need another TikTok or something?”

“No TikToks,” Y/N says, smiling. “We can do a bonus one if you want, though, I know how much you love them.”

Jack chuckles. “They’ve been growing on me.” No reason why.

Y/N grins like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “High praise. I hope you carry that spirit to the next social media intern, too.”

Jack sighs plaintively. “Do you really have to go? You fit in well, you know. You might as well stay a little longer.”

“That so?” Y/N asks, one eyebrow raised.

Jack looks away. “I don’t know. I heard some of the guys saying–”

Y/N cuts him off, lips twitching up into a smile. “I don’t care about the guys, Jack. What do you think?”

“I think you should stay,” Jack mumbles. He still can’t look her in the eyes. “With me.”

As soon as he says it, he knows it’s true. It doesn’t have to be through the Devils or not. He just wants Y/N with him for a while longer, to tease him when he’s being stupid and cheer for him during the games. He wants to hear her laugh longer than just the next few days. He wants to get coffee and buy flowers and match outfits and do a hundred things that would be special because he’d be doing them with her. That, more than anything, is what he wants.

A soft pressure on his hand; Jack looks up to realize Y/N has put her fingers over his, and squeezes slightly. He squeezes back by instinct.

“I want that too, Jack,” she tells him.

The smallest spark of luck is creeping back into his veins. “I thought you didn’t go for hotshot hockey players,” he says. “Especially not ones that flirted with the interns.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing slightly, so they’re okay. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. The idea was that I would try to avoid it.”

Jack grins. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Surprisingly badly,” Y/N confesses. “I’m not too mad about it, though. Something tells me we’re going to make this work out.”

“It will,” Jack promises. He’s going to make sure of it. Looking at Y/N, the light in her eyes when she smiles, Jack knows that he’s going to do everything in his power to keep her. He rubs his thumb over her hand, still in his, and cannot help but think about how lucky he is.

Y/N looks like she’s going to start blushing. “Let’s talk about this when all of your teammates aren’t watching,” she says suddenly.

Jack glances up and realizes that he’s on the receiving end of quite a few curious looks from the Devils still on the ice. Luke, especially, looks like he has several questions he wants to ask. Jack groans, mentally preparing himself for the absolute nuisance his little brother will become on the drive home.

Still, it doesn’t faze him for long. “How about we talk about it this Saturday?” Jack asks. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Y/N is breathtaking when she smiles at him. Jack might have to keep looking forever, just so he remembers. “I think that sounds alright to me.”

Jack opens his mouth to say something stupid like how he can’t wait, but the coach blows a whistle to usher him and some of the others back onto the ice, and Jack is saved from himself. “I’ll see you then,” he repeats somewhat needlessly.

Y/N nods, and Jack turns to leave. He’s still got most of his senses intact, despite evidence to the contrary, and Jack does know better than to kiss Y/N in front of his whole team and coach in the middle of practice, but– well, there’s a difference between what Jack knows and what Jack does, and today, he kisses her anyway. It’s good. Really good. Good enough to deal with the teasing when he finally makes it down to the ice. Good enough to keep him hooked until their date, and the next, and the next. Good enough for forever.

hockey tag list: @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[radfemsiren]

Remembering my Afghani American best friend from my islamic elementary and middle school whose dad would get drunk every night and beat the shit out of her mother. She begged and begged for sleepovers because strangers in the house would make him leave, and I never told my parents about the situation (I lied and said she had no father or brothers) because I loved spending time at her house and staying up the whole night doing all the things we weren’t allowed to do that was “haram”… watching rated r movies, playing horror computer games, dancing to music videos on YouTube, cat walking in heels and makeup, scaring ourselves with creepypastas.

I remember we had a million stupid ass discussions about who the purple guy from five nights at Freddies was, or what a slenderman proxy meant, or if there were illuminati signs in Katy Perry music videos, or if emo drawings of Jeff the killer were hot. We’d whisper fight if Beyoncé or Lana del Rey was a better singer, or if teen wolf or maze runner had cuter boys. She was team Beyoncé and teen wolf.

We had to constantly be separated in school for talking, and we hated the creepy janitor and would throw wads of wet paper towel on the bathroom ceiling for him to clean up later. We got into so much trouble together, and would always smirk at each other in detention when we got yelled at. We’d shoplift lipsticks from the mall, and throw away expensive Quran transliterations from school, and sneak into the teachers break room and steal handfuls of ice and throw them on the imam/principal’s desk when he was gone to ruin his paperwork.

I moved away like I always had to do with my constantly migrating family and we lost touch. The last time I saw her in person was when we were still kids at her brothers wedding. I was laughing while I tried to ask her why the bride kept changing into different brightly colored dresses throughout the night. She wasn’t listening, and she burst into tears and cried about how her brother was just like her father and did every horrible thing he did. I held her and squeezed her so tight I thought her bones would break.

I recently tried to reconnect with her again but she’s already married, pregnant, and has abandoned social media and texting because it’s “haram.” Trying to talk to her was like speaking to a stranger… she had no interest in any of the things we would spend hours playing with before. “Islam is important to me now, I’m a new woman. We were messed up kids, it’s time to grow up.” She told me to never contact her again and hung up the phone.

Sometimes I feel like I failed her, and sometimes I understand that I was a girl trying to survive too.

One day I’ll save money to travel back there and talk to her in person. I’ll snap her out of it. We’ll spend all night up together again doing every terrible thing our teachers and parents and religious leaders warned us against, and laughing the whole way through it. We’ll get kicked out of bars and get into trouble and snicker our way through it all, knowing we’ve already won. I still have her dirty, worn, my littlest pet shop horse she gave me when we first met. I hold it in my hands when I see news of the what’s happening to the women of Afghanistan, and I feel like I’ve failed her again. That I’ll forever be stuck an immature child and her a miserable adult, both of us doomed, unable to be saved from our fates in the end.

[cece693]

Bet (Klaus Mikaelson x M! Reader)

Summary: Thanks to your brothers, all you knew about the Mikaelson family was that they were dangerous and threatened your livelihood. However, when you're saved by the hybrid himself, he poses a bet to change your mind or be given insight into the cure.

link to part two

You paced the old parlor of the Salvatore boarding house, frustration bubbling inside you like an unwelcome storm. Damon had been shouting in your ear again, his usual rant about the Mikaelsons’ supposed evil nature still echoing off the walls. He was adamant: the Originals were nothing but a death sentence waiting to happen, and you needed to steer clear of them.

Stefan, meanwhile, had taken his usual route, trying to appeal to your emotional side. He claimed your search for the cure was pointless, a dangerous fantasy you needed to abandon. His eyes had softened, his voice dropping to that earnest tone he reserved for when he was about to say something ‘profound.’

“It’s over,” he’d said. “What we did centuries ago, what happened to you…it was for the best. We’re a family now.”

You'd barely managed to stifle your scoff. A family, he said. Easy for him to preach about family when he and Damon had been content to let Katherine turn them. You, on the other hand, had been set to marry Emily, a kind-hearted girl from town. All that was ripped away when your brothers decided to drag you into their mess, condemning you to an eternity you never asked for. You had lost everything. You hadn't chosen this life; it had been forced upon you.

“Look, little brother,” Damon had warned earlier that night, his eyes darkening as they flickered to yours, a flash of genuine concern slipping past his usual bravado. “Stay away from Klaus. He’s not the kind of enemy you can afford to make.”

“Damon, I’m not stupid,” you’d retorted, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I just want the cure. If Klaus has any knowledge of it, I’m not going to let your paranoid warnings stop me.”

And that was why you found yourself in the woods outside Mystic Falls, pursuing the rumor that Klaus was near. Your heart pounded, a mix of anger and hope driving you forward. That hope turned into a nightmare when one of Katherine's minions appeared out of nowhere, tackling you to the ground. The stake in his hand glinted in the sunlight, aiming straight for your heart.

You struggled, trying to push him off, but he was relentless. Just as you braced for the end, there was a blur of motion, and your assailant was suddenly torn away. You gasped, scrambling to your feet as you saw Klaus standing over the broken body of your attacker. His eyes were cold, yet his posture was relaxed, almost as if saving you had been a minor inconvenience.

"You—" your voice came out rough, disbelief dripping from every word, "you saved me?"

Klaus tilted his head, eyes dancing with amusement. "Don't sound so surprised, love. Surely you didn't think I'd let Katherine have all the fun."

Your pulse hammered in your chest, more out of confusion than fear. Klaus, of all people? The monster your brothers had warned you about? The hybrid who supposedly wanted nothing more than to tear the Salvatores apart? You glared at him, trying to ignore the nagging questions in your mind.

"Why?" you demanded, pushing yourself to stand straight despite the throbbing pain in your side. "Why would you help me?"

Klaus stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a piercing intensity. "Because," he said softly, his voice dangerous and smooth, "I have plans for you."

You tensed, instincts flaring again, but something in his gaze held you captive. There was a softness, a flicker of something deeper beneath the cold exterior. "Plans?" you repeated, the word bitter on your tongue. "Like what, adding me to your collection of enemies? Using me against my brothers?"

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver up your spine. "So much suspicion. Your brothers really have done a number on you, haven’t they?" He took another step closer, his presence commanding and overwhelming. "But I assure you, my intentions are far more…personal."

Your stomach twisted in knots, both from his words and the weight of your brothers' warnings ringing in your ears. Klaus Mikaelson is a monster. He’s dangerous. Don’t ever trust him.

But here he was. Standing before you, having just saved your life.

"You expect me to believe that?" you asked, your voice harsher than you intended. "That you’re just here to help out of the goodness of your heart?"

Klaus smiled, his lips curling with dark amusement. "No, I expect you to listen. I know what you’ve been searching for—the cure." You froze. He knew. Of course, he knew. Klaus always seemed to know everything. But this was different—this was something you had kept close, something personal, driven by a desperation to reclaim your humanity.

Your mouth went dry. "What do you know about it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know more than you think," Klaus replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming. "But that’s not something I’ll simply give away."

Of course, there was always a catch. You crossed your arms, defensive. "What do you want from me?"

"Simple," Klaus said, taking a final step until he was just inches from you, his voice low and measured. "Spend time with me. Get to know me and my family. Let me show you that we’re not the monsters your brothers make us out to be. If, after that, you still believe we’re nothing but dangerous beasts, I’ll tell you everything I know about the cure."

You scoffed. "So, what—this is some kind of bet?"

Klaus's smile turned predatory. "Call it a wager, if you prefer. If I can’t change your mind, you get what you want. But if I do…" His gaze flickered over you, something unreadable in his eyes. "Then you’ll owe me."

"That’s it? You’re not going to force me into anything?" You raised an eyebrow, your suspicion still very much alive.

Klaus chuckled darkly. "I don’t need to force anyone into anything, love. I think, deep down, you're already curious."

His confidence rattled you. But beneath the fear and doubt, there was a flicker of something else. A sense of intrigue. Curiosity. After all, hadn't you already begun questioning your brothers' stories? You hadn’t expected Klaus to be anything other than a brutal monster—and yet, here he was, offering you a chance.

After a moment, you sighed. "Fine, I’ll take your bet. But don’t expect this to be easy."

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

What began as a begrudging agreement quickly spiraled into something far more complex. Klaus introduced you to his family, and to your surprise, they were far more than heartless killing machines.

Elijah’s calm, noble demeanor immediately stood out. He was nothing like the vicious killer you’d imagined. And Rebekah—though quick-tempered and prone to impulsiveness—had a genuine vulnerability that reminded you of Stefan in a strange way. They weren’t monsters; they were people. Complicated, dangerous people, yes, but not the soulless creatures Damon had described.

Klaus...Klaus was the most perplexing of all.

He was still terrifying, no doubt about it—his temper as quick as ever, a constant reminder of the danger lurking beneath his every move. Klaus’s control over any situation was absolute, as though the world bent to his will, daring not to defy him. And yet, there was something about him that gnawed at the edges of the image your brothers had painted.

It started subtly, at first. His gaze would linger on you a fraction too long, his eyes softening for a moment before the familiar steely mask snapped back into place. In those rare, unguarded moments, you felt something shift—a crack in his unyielding façade, a glimpse of the man he might have been before centuries of betrayal hardened him into the creature he had become.

And then there were the nights when you found yourself alone with him, often under the most unexpected circumstances. Once, after a particularly brutal fight with Damon, you returned to the mansion bruised and exhausted. You had expected Klaus to gloat or mock your weakness, but instead, he was there, his presence both commanding and unexpectedly gentle.

You stumbled into the grand foyer, wincing with every step as pain radiated through your battered body. Klaus emerged from the shadows, his eyes sharp with concern. Without a word, he guided you to a nearby settee, his hands surprisingly gentle as he helped you settle.

"You should be more careful," Klaus murmured, his voice low and almost tender. He knelt beside you, his fingers brushing lightly over the bruise on your bottom lip. His touch was meticulous, almost reverent, and the contrast between his harsh exterior and this tender care was jarring.

You met his gaze, searching for the ruthless hybrid you’d come to know. Instead, you saw a flicker of something softer, an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t understand you,” you said, wincing as your words caused the sore area of your lip to tighten. “Why keep me around if this is all a bet? Why show yourself like this if I’m to be a pawn in your game? Don’t deny it, I heard my brothers speaking about how you plan to use Elena to get rid of your curse.”

Klaus’s expression hardened for a moment, the mask of his usual confidence slipping just enough to reveal the hurt beneath. He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he met your eyes. “You think of me as nothing more than a manipulator, but there’s more to this than you realize.” Standing up, you watched as Klaus turned his back to you, in an attempt to hide his weaknesses.

“I didn’t plan for this to be a game,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a trace of regret. “My initial interest in you was strategic, but it evolved into something far more complicated. Yes, I need Elena to break the curse, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you are any less real.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Your actions are so contradictory. One moment, you’re this ruthless hybrid, and the next, you’re kind. I can’t make sense of it.”

“I understand your confusion. It’s easier for people to see me as a monster because it suits their narrative. But the truth is rarely that clear." You wanted to look at Klaus, so with much bravery, you stood up from the settee and walked toward him. His back tensed, yet you stood in front of him, his blue eyes darkened with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"They call me a monster, a villain. And maybe I am those things. But I’m more than that. I’m someone who cares about the people I choose to let in." His hand hesitantly went to your cheek, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch.

"And you’ve…chosen me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

A ghost of a smile touched Klaus’s lips. "Against my better judgment, yes. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve lived a long time."

The intensity in his eyes made your heart pound. You wanted to hate him, wanted to cling to the stories your brothers had fed you, but something had shifted. He wasn’t just some ancient monster; he was a man with desires, hopes, and wounds he kept hidden beneath layers of cold indifference.

"Then tell me," you challenged "Tell me the truth. Is there really a cure, or was this just some elaborate game to win me over?"

Klaus’s gaze darkened with an intensity that spoke of deep emotions. He took a moment, the silence stretching between you as if he was weighing his words carefully. “There is a cure,” he confessed, his voice grave and earnest. “And if you still want it, I’ll help you find it.”

You searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you saw was an unfiltered sincerity that was both unsettling and reassuring. “And if I take it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What then?”

Klaus’s expression grew somber, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of his emotions. “If you take it, you’ll be walking away from your brothers, this life…from me.”

The pain in his voice was palpable, but he didn’t try to mask it or push you towards any decision. There was no manipulation, no hidden agenda. It was a raw, honest confession from someone who had been playing a complex game but now laid his cards on the table.

You were taken aback by the contrast. If this had been Damon or Stefan, they would have tried to convince you to stay, to forget about the cure and remain by their side. They would have manipulated your feelings, used every trick they had to make you change your mind. But Klaus—Klaus was offering you the choice without trying to sway you. He was hurt, yes, but his respect for your autonomy was genuine.

“I… didn’t expect you to be so honest,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re willing to let me go, even if it means losing me?”

Klaus nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I am. Because I understand what it means to desire something with every part of your being and to be willing to make sacrifices to achieve it. If the cure is what you truly want, then I will help you find it, even if it means saying goodbye.”

[holylulusworld]

Jealousy a la Bucky

Summary: He’s not jealous.

Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting

He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.

What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.

“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”

“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”

“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.” 

He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.

Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”

“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”

Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality. 

“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”

“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”

You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.

“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”

“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”

“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”

Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him. 

“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”

‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”

“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”

“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in. 

“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”

“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”

“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”

“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”

“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”

“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.

“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”

“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”

“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”

You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…

Tags in reblog.

[space-blue]

A complete guide to Blue Daddy's Girl (my) Arcane fics

Multi-chapter

Fathers and Daughters (My big hit)

Alternate AU set after S01E03, where Silco adopts both Vi and Powder. Large ensemble cast, multiple POVs, but mostly Vi.

100k words. Completed. Fanart chapters and art comms.

While the World Turns Around

Silco/Vander post betrayal reconciliation AU. Set before the show. POV Vander.

5.2k words. Completed. Entire chapter of gifted fanart at the end.

Our Love, That Flows Into the Sea is the same fic but from the POV of Silco. Unfinished WIP I don't plan on continuing.

The Shimmer Baron’s Family

Silco/Vander Regency AU. Estranged family, set during a ball at the Medarda estate.

10k words. Unfinished. No plans to finish it, stop asking lol or else make a serious request via my ko-fi.

A Stray

4.7k. Set in the "good verse". Silco and Vander adopt Viktor. One shot converted to WIP, has fanart.

Whatever I do, this is where we end

A dark Silco time loop, but told from the POV of Vander, who gets reset every time unknowingly. Strong themes of violence, suicide, despair and smut. Read the tags.

7.7k words. Completed. No fanart.

Science of the Soul

Ongoing WIP, Jayvik Avatar AU in which Zaunites are Na'vi and everyone from Piltover are humans. With art from me and others.

Cursed, by a brush of your hand

Silco/Vander soulmate AU where the soulmark is framed as a potential life ending curse. Aroace Silco, BFF with Renata Glasc. Basically an aroace perspective on soulmates.

7k words. Completed. No fanart.

What I wouldn’t do for you

Silco & Vander role swap. Silco adopts the kids and runs the Last Drop.

5.2k words. Completed. Open ending. No fanart.

The Darkin Child

Viktor, Singed and Silco are vampire-adjacent monsters, Vander is a werewolf. Married zaundads with Viktor returning to Zaun in hiding.

4.3k words. Unfinished, no plans to finish it.

The Centaur Breaker

Silly centaur AU with Silco as a rancher in a fantasy world (not a US Far West setting), rescuing captured centaurs. Vander, Sevika, Jinx & Vi as centaurs.

2.8k words. Unfinished. Only a single chapter and no plans to continue.

☆ Arcane Art Dump 

The home of all my Arcane fanarts worth saving.

One Shots

Those are sorted by kudos, from the most popular down to least.

Pretty Blue Puffs of Arcane Smoke

829 words. Silco and Powder discuss getting tattoos. Set in the Fathers and Daughters AU.

Worries, and ways to dispel them & Explosions, and their fallout

5k words total. Silco x Reader two parter, written in the week before season 1's finale. 2nd person gender neutral reader without body description.

Lost Child

3.7k words. Pirate Silco is back in Zaun and trying to avoid Vander. He runs into a lost child called "Cait" at Bridgewaltz market.

The Monster Within & The Monster Without

1.3k words for Monster Within. Post-betrayal Silco recovers and cuts his hair. Based on a fanart by @/Wish. 1.6k words for Monster Without. Set at the same time, but Vander POV as he deals with emotional turmoil after attacking Silco (probably my favourite one shot to this day).

Adoption

1.8k words. Vander and Silco are still brothers. They discuss adopting the girls in this no-betrayal AU.

Beer And Bribery

2k words. Vi & Sevika. Set in the Fathers and Daughters AU. Vi asks Sevika for help picking a present for Silco. Written for the Arcane parenting week event.

Let Me Try

4.3k words. Newest on the list! Arcane season 2 finale fix it. Timebomb... Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. She isn't, no matter what Vi may believe.

Not Dead Yet & A Friend In Need

3k words total. Jinx finds a dead body in Zaun, but Viktor isn’t quite dead yet. Jinx & Viktor, written prior to season 2 for Sicktember.

Without Questions

627 words. Written for a fanart that is currently down, but hopefully I'll fix it soon. Young Zaundads fluff. Vander doesn’t understand what Silco sees in him, but he’s not willing to question it.

Gun Nerds Of All Nations

3k words. Set in a similar AU to F&D but not actually. Powder & young Caitlyn bond at a fair's shooting competition. Written for the Arcane Parenting Week.

Memories of Sweetness

2k words. Set in the Fathers and Daughters AU. Silco discovers that a staple food of his youth, long thought to have disappeared from Zaun, is back on the streets. He has to share this with Powder and Vi, both born too late to have ever tried it.

No Favourite

1.2k words. Vander claims he doesn't have a favourite among his kids, but they don't see it that way. Written for the Arcane Parenting Week.

Hard Truths

3k words. Ren (Marcus' daughter) tries to find to meaning to her father’s death and ends up meeting Jinx in Zaun.

Blame

830 words. Jinx POV heavy angst. Jinx talks to Silco after his death, until Sevika comes to find her. Written for the Arcane Parenting Week.

A Lesson In Silence

3k words. Set in the Fathers and Daughters AU. Mek (now known as Gustove) takes Powder on a spying mission. Written for the Arcane Parenting Week.

Last Chance

1.3k words. Past Silco/Vander. Missing scene in the cannery, a private conversation between them. Generally bitter sweet and canon compliant.

Son of Zaun

2k words. One day, Silco's mother took him up-top, to see the sky, the sun, and the people who live above them all.

Sepia Smile

732 words. The photograph is faded, its sepia tones keeping the colour of the man's eyes a secret. Vi stares at it for a long time, perplexed. She doesn't understand what Vander saw in him. Written for the Arcane Parenting Week.

A Terrible Gamble

2.3k words. Jinx (and Silco whispering in her mind) set off to rescue Vander from Singed’s lab after the events of season 2.

On Your Head

2.5k words. Alternate retelling of Mel and the young princess' of her memories. In the Princess' POV.

Drunken Dreams

Comic fanart. Jinx brings a drunk Vi home.

Just a cough & Dramatics

685 words for Just a cough. The moment Silco wakes up with a sore throat, he knows he's in trouble with Vander. Written for Sictember. 1k words for Dramatics. Vander sickfic to match.

A Fresh Start

1.9k words. Second person POV where you are brought to a recovering Silco in secret, and give him a haircut and much needed comfort. Gen fic.

Eat You Alive

604 words. Dark!Vi kills Caitlyn as soon as they enter the Lanes.

Maintenance

1.6k words. Explicit. A smutty Mek/Marcus with power dynamics in Silco’s office.

A Haunting

754 words. Heavy angst Vander & Silco meet shortly after the betrayal.

A Touch of Memory

2.2k words. A self-indulgent Star Wars crossover set in the Old Republic with Sith Silco, Jinx and Sevika and Mandalorian Vander. Has links to fanart.

In the Jaws of the Fox

247 words. Mel/Jayce. Mel contemplates the man sprawled in her bed, sleeping insouciantly.

Who Saves The Boy Saviour?

1.3k words. Dark fic!! Jinx captures Ekko post season 1 finale and straps him to the chair Silco used on Vander. Timebomb.

Ragdoll

766 words. A look into young Silco and Vander's budding relationship. It's complicated. With art, made for the Zaundads Zine.

A New Tattoo

968 words. Set in the Fathers and Daughters AU. The story behind Mek’s tattoos.

Five Times Vi Got In Trouble

4.8k words. Vander & Grayson friendship fic done for a charity prize.

Bullseye

500 words. Mel Medarda/Grayson. Mel takes the sheriff with her to visit a progress day and asks her to show off in a shooting range.

My Ko-fi is open for tips, but I'm also open to discuss writing commissions. My DMs are open | Find me on Bsky

[uchinagai]

Your endless love - ningning

➢Synopsis: once, teenage sweethearts, y/n and ningning, now meet each other as full-grown adults, expect, one life had to take a different, much harder patch. will they reunite? Or did ningning only return for a different reason?

➢Pairing : CEO!ningning x artist!y/n

➢Genre: angst, fluff but maybe only past... slightly suggestive almost there but a man has to interrupt, I really wanna point out it's angst! but gets better ...?? maybe

➢warnings: heavy topics, such as - suicide, death, arranged marriage or self-hatred, miscommunications, blackmailing, suggestive/smut, mention of a corpse but not g0re, mention of murder/possible murderer, 18+.

➢wk: 5.1k+

➢note: well... kind of inspired by my childhood Turkish drama I forgot the name of but till this day remember the heartbreak my 10-year-old ass went thru. I think that's all I have to say, hope you guys will enjoy it. :3 I'm not the best writer, I do this only for MY pure entertainment. not proofread. will there be pt.2? maybeee...

You lost five years of your life to keep your younger brother free, to save him from going to jail after he accidentally took the life of a woman. Given the choice between covering up his crime and your own freedom, you chose him. You loved your brother dearly, but the cost was far greater than you ever imagined.

They married you off to a man you could hardly stand—a man who seemed obsessed with you, and not in a way that felt like love. Yet, he called himself your husband and flaunted you like a prize that made you disgusted each day that passed. Five years had passed with the weight of that ring around your finger that was more of a rope, tightening taking away air from you.

But now, staring at your brother's pale body lying on the hospital bed, you felt a hollowness eating at your insides. Is this what you meant to waste your five years to?

Your fingers trembled as they traced over the red scar on his neck, feeling your own throat tighten as though a rope was there, suffocating you, too.

He looked ghostly, eyes closed, lips an unnatural shade of blue. You gripped his limp hand, sobbing and begging him to get up. It was all for nothing; your life was ripped apart, sacrificed to save him, only for him to take his own life out of guilt. In his last words, he admitted as much. A note lay beside him, neat and careful, explaining everything. He couldn’t bear the weight of watching you wither under the demands of a loveless marriage, sacrificed to protect him. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry through closed doors as he walked by with food for you, feeling helpless to fix what he had caused. And he couldn’t stand to see your parents throw you away, to a man who saw you only as something to possess. And it mostly saddened him knowing you were only capable of loving a person you met on a bus.

You were just 19, running to a bus you were going to miss at any second. The door closed right into your face as you banged on the door, begging the driver to open it. He did, thankfully. You thanked him as you tried to catch your breath.

‘That was a hard run’ you thought.

You looked around for a seat, but there was none.

‘Great. Just my luck.’

You tried to take a breath as you clutched onto the pole next to you. You set your canvas to a safe place and look around the bus, trying to spot the next muse of your art.

There you lock eyes with a girl. A beautiful one, looking right at you, with slight interest written on her face.

‘Woah she’s pretty’ you thought.

The girl stared back at you, not breaking eye contact. Her blonde hair fell in sleek, straight as it could be, as sunlight hit her eyes from the window. The light color framed her features in a way that made her look effortlessly striking. Her eyes held an intense, yet steady gaze, focused onto you, like you’re the only one in this crowded bus.

Your eyes roamed around, taking in her appearance.

Her lips painted a rich, dark red, stood out beautifully against her fair skin. God, she was pale—not sickly pale, but pale to the point that it was beautiful and reflected light off of her body.

She wore a simple outfit, a denim cropped jacket, with a black tube top perfectly sitting around her body. Her jeans matched her denim jacket.

As you stared, you felt an unfamiliar turn to the left as you broke eye contact that felt like it lasted ages. You looked out the window and realized that the bus you got on was not the one you thought it was, so here you were—going off in the wrong direction.

All you could do was panic and turn to the driver, asking when the nearest stop was. He reassured you it was soon, but you were already late.

It did not take a while to get to the stop, as you rushed off the bus.

But fuck! The canvas!

You turn, seeing the bus already off.

‘What a horrible day to be alive’

You mentally cursed at yourself as you were about to break down till an unfamiliar voice, filled with a sweet tone to it, broke you out of your thoughts.

You open your eyes that you closed due to stress hitting your nerves to be met with the same beautiful face, looking at you with a smile.

“I think you forgot this,” says the stranger as she reaches out your canvas.

‘What a great day to be alive’ you changed your thoughts in a second.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much!!” you say as you grab it and hug the canvas.

The girl giggles at the sight as you sigh.

“I can’t explain how grateful I am”

“It's not a problem, really”

“It should be! You had to get off of your ride to bring this for me”

“Oh yeah…” she says as you both chuckle at her lack of thinking.

“Well, I wasn’t rushing anywhere, seems like you are tho, need help?”

‘Is she an angel sent from the heavens for me?’ you thought as you nodded at her request.

“I was trying to get to my house… but seems like I got on the wrong bus,” you say defeated.

“Where were you headed off to?”

“Cheong-dong..”

It felt like you were rubbing into her that you were from a wealthy family.

The blonde looked at you, slightly taken back but she covered it with a smile.

“And you were trying to take a bus… there?”

You nod.

“Well, I forgot my car keys…”

“Let’s get you there then”

She says as she grabs your wrist without thinking, dragging you along with her back where the bus made a turn.

“So what were you doing out here?”

“I was in my studio... Painting”

“Figured,” she says as she chuckles.

“Oh right, what’s your name… at least got to know what’s the name of a beauty that is about to kidnap me” you say as you both burst into laughing.

“Ningning, it's Ningning, and I'm not gonna kidnap you,” she says as she reassures you. “Yours?”

“y/n”

“Pretty name, just like your face.”

And that is pretty much how it all started. Was it too cheesy to say you both fell in love at first sight? Maybe. But god she had you whipped.

Every little thing she did made you feel butterflies all over. The way she looked at you, waited for you in front of your studio and surprised you with a bunch of balloons attached to your car. How she played music that she loved while doing her homework in your presence. It was a matter of time and you two were official.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. The way her blonde hair fell to her face, the way her nose would scrunch up when she couldn't get the answer right. It made you all fall for her, and she was just as much in love with you.

You would always sketch her at different times while working or writing music. She was beautiful every single time. You mostly loved sketching her while sleeping, that’s when she looked most relaxed and calm, without a care in the world. You were always at her place because you didn’t know how your parents would react to… someone from the lower class.

But it did not matter.

You were in love.

You decided it was a good idea to tell your mom about it since she was always supportive of your decisions in life - painting? She got you a whole studio and the best paints in the world. Music? She installed speakers in the studio to enjoy it. So you told her, and at first, she easily accepted you and supported you.

Till she wasn’t.

You remember it like yesterday, calming your little brother from what he had just done. You couldn't believe it either? Your brother, hurting someone? But before you could even process that, you were pulled by your parents into a security room.

There he was, again. With that smug of his that made you feel uneasy with everything.

He pressed space. And there was your brother, with a gun, laughing and giggling, pointed at the girl. He thought the gun girl brought along for ‘roleplay’ was just a toy till he fired.

He pauses the footage.

“I delete this footage and do not turn it to the police… on one condition”

“Whatever you want!” your mom pleaded.

Then he looked at you and it all clicked. He wanted you. Then you looked at your parents.

Your mom was looking at you full of hope but your dad… He seemed just as against the idea as you were.

“We will have to talk this out first,” Your dad says as your mom looks at him unpleased with his decision.

But there was no point.

Your life was already decided

Now here you stand, watching as they lower the casket as you can only think about Ningning.

Your ‘husband’s’ hand was holding u firm against him. Like he was holding u for support but it suffocated you even more.

You couldn’t even cry, you felt numb. All of those years for what? For him to kill himself because he felt guilty? Bullshit.

As the time passed after the death, you felt yourself grow angrier than sad and the only person to be able to shut it down was Ningning. You kept looking back to old pictures, missing her, her touch, scent, everything.

At some point, you would stalk her socials, and try to keep up with her till she completely vanished from all social media. Her account was up but her last post was when she left back for her home country - china, and that was years ago.

Was she still in China? Did she come back? Does she still live in the same house?

It was another day, staking her dead account which was too much for you because most of the pictures that were posted, were taken by you, so you just went on a night walk by Han River, after another argument with Kai He always found a way to drain you, was it either verbally, physically, or mentally.’

You put on your earphones as you enjoyed the specific scent the water had. It was pretty chilly, so you dressed up warmly, a puffer jacket with a black scarf around your neck, wore simple black baggy jeans, and went on the walk. It calmed you down for sure and music playing in your ears that distracted you from unwanted thoughts.

But you stop in your tracks.

As the music was about to switch and earphones went silent for a few seconds, you heard it.

Honey-dripped voice giggling. All too familiar.

You couldn’t have mistaken that. It was basically recorded in your brain.

You shut your music off in an instant as you start looking around, searching for the familiar blonde hair… but it is nowhere to be seen.

Were you just imagining it?

But there was no way… right?

And then you heard it again, you were not going crazy.

You tried to follow the sound only to be met by a black-haired haired turned away from you. What was going on?

Till you saw it.

That beautiful side profile of hers, her nose scrunched up in laughing.

She went black… you thought as you just stood there, looking but not moving an inch. She was with a bunch of three other girls that you paid no mind to. It was just her, standing in front of you to reach but being so unreachable. Everyone was out of the picture like the world had stopped where it was her voice filling it up.

God knows how long you stayed there, watching, but it definitely caught the other three's attention as they nudged the black haired whispering something to her as she turned her head right at you.

It was like a spark went through you as her smiley gaze landed on you, but it quickly died down as her face dropped.

‘She hates me’ you thought due to her facial expression dropping as you felt tears forming. You wanted to run, hide, and never show yourself but it was like you were stuck in a quicksand, unable to move from your spot.

She stared back right at you till she turned her head towards her friends. Saying something that made them all look at you and then back to her.

You wanted to reach out, call her, touch her, explain yourself, but the lump stuck in your throat made it all impossible.

“Ningning!!” you choked out as she was about to start walking away, making her pause in her tracks making her turn to you, standing what felt like kilometers away. You were at a loss for words… she changed, in a good way, but everything about her was different. The way dressed, the way she did her makeup… the way she looked at you.

The last one hurt the most. Her expression was almost unreadable but it was full of hurt and hatred, and you understood her more than anything. You had no idea what to say to her. You haven’t even planned out how to talk to her, thinking she was still in China.

“Can we talk?” you say after a decade

“What is there to talk about?” she says, almost mocking you. Her honey voice was completely replaced with venom. It hurt but you couldn’t blame the girl either.

But she moved against her words because the next thing you knew, she was walking towards you.

‘What the hell is going on right now?’

“What are you gonna say? I’m sorry I ghosted you? Or are you gonna tell me you’re married, because I already know that, everyone in South Korea knew about y/n l/ns marriage BUT me.”

God, it hurts so bad, you couldn’t respond to her. You just stood there while Ningning looked at you like she hated your guts. It made you feel like you were trapped, with the door right in front of you, but it was locked away.

“Answer me y/n!” She yells, demanding an answer from you, knowing you physically couldn’t utter a word. You choke on your sob as you start crying. All you could do was cry.

As she stood there her scent was right in front of you, all you wanted was to grab her into a hug bury your head into her, and never let her go.

For Ningning it almost felt like an instinct to reach out and cup your face, wipe your tears away, and tell you everything was fine when it wasn’t fine, but she would do anything to stop you from crying in front of her. It ate her from inside as she saw your hand reach up to your face, covering your tears away.

The ring.

It should’ve been her who you were married to, not some guy Kai that she knew very well was from a very well-off family.

“I never meant it to get this bad,” you say between sobs as you fall to your knees in the middle of the bridge.

Ningning instantly went down with you as she held your head.

“What do you mean y/n, for god's sake speak to me at least once. Tell me you don’t actually love me so I can let you go”

That was your biggest fear as you looked up at her and clutched onto her wrist “No! No, that's not true!” You yell, desperate for her as she looks at you. Her eyes slowly welled up with tears as she bit her lower lip.

“You’re making everything harder than it should be y/n…”

“I had to Ningning, I couldn’t pick…-” you say as the lump in your throat chokes you from saying anything else.

“What you couldn’t pick”

“My own future…”

Ningnings heart hurt. She didn’t know what you meant at all but one thing was clear to her - everything was against your own wishes. That was enough for her to grab you into a long overdue hug as she held you tight against her.

You melt into her arms as you wrap your arms around her neck, clutching onto her shirt as you sobbed into her. You two stayed this way for a long time till you finally calmed down and steadily started breathing, enjoying her arms around you.

It made you feel complete.

Like you were missing a part of you, and now that it’s back, you would give anything to keep it with you.

She took you to her new place—one that, to your surprise, was just a street away from your own house so near that you almost thought she got it on purpose to stalk you. You could step into the driveway and you were able to see your own house clearly.

‘Seems like she built herself up’ you thought as you stood out in the driveway, staring at your prison perfectly on display while having a blanket wrapped around you.

The younger girl stepped out with two cups of hot chocolate. As she reached one to you.

You guys left her friends behind as she drove you to hers, even though she knew where you lived. She wanted you to be with her only.

Only then you were gonna be able to tell her everything.

You grabbed the cup and held it with you.

“If you’re wondering, yes. I did buy the house to be close to you.”

You felt it coming. You knew it was her dream to live at least close to you, if not with you.

“It’s pretty”

“Yeah, it is.” She says as she slowly turns her head to you. “Care to tell me, properly?..”

“My brother is dead.” You said as you looked back at her. “He’s gone while I suffered for five years because of him.”

‘Suffered’ made Ningnings's ears perk up and feel uneasy.

“You know my… husband, kai. He threatened me that he would leak footage of my brother accidentally killing a woman. To stop him from doing so, I married him.”

“Y/n I’m so—“

“You didn’t know, nobody does, so don’t stress yourself” You smile at her as she sends you a weak smile back at you.

You take a sip from your drink as you turn your head back, now seeing movement in front of your house. It was Kai, slamming his car door and screaming at the staff.

“I couldn’t make sense why you would marry him when I saw him act like a spoiled male brat, but now it all makes sense,” she says as she giggles at his outburst as you crack a smile.

“He’s a boy, seriously. He might be leading his daddy’s company but it will go downhill with his outbursts in around 1-2 years.”

“Then another rival company down,” Ningning says as she turns back to her house and you instantly follow her in.

“CEO Ningning?” You question with a teasing smile as you lean against the kitchen island, next to her.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” She says as she leans on the counter, playing into your game.

“Maybe… you always looked… good working,” you say as you lean towards her now.

It was like something flipped in her as she grabbed your waist and trapped you between her and the counter.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you”

You looked at her, like a prey trapped with a predator. God, you missed her, the way she touched you, or looked at you. You couldn’t even answer her as you wrapped your arms around her smashing your lips on her, which she responded to immediately.

Her hands went down to your waist, placing herself between your legs as your hands went to her hair, thuggin' at it which caused her to whine into your mouth.

You break the kiss as you look at her with hooded eyes, telling her everything just by looking at her. In an instant you switched positions as now, you were trapping her.

“Let me make up for all the times we missed..” you mumble against her lips as you lay wet kisses from her jaw down to her neck.

The girl was sensitive and you were kissing all of her right spots so all she could do was whine and clutch onto the counter behind her.

Ningning was very impatient with you because it seemed like you were taking an awfully long time with her, so what could a girl do?

She positioned herself on your thigh before so now all she could do was grind against it, searching for some friction, but to no avail. You held her hips down, not letting her chase her desired feeling.

“Getting slightly impatient now are we?” You tease her as she looks at you with her.

At that, you both froze at an incoming doorbell, from the entrance of the driveway, which was guarded with a getaway. It causes both of you to groan as she looks at the security camera installed:

It was your husband, looking as if he's composed and calm but you can read him like an open book: a hint of anger in his left eye, a slight dent in his cheek on his right, which means he is biting on that side, clenched jaw and car in the background messily parked by him. He was mad, for whatever reason.

But how did he know you were even here? And what was he even doing here, in front of Ningning's house?

What confused you even more was, why was Ningning seemingly all okay with it?!. It was like she was expecting him so she opened the gate for him as he walked up the driveway, taken aback by seeing you from the ceiling-tall window.

“Mr. Kai,” she says as she greets him offering her hand to shake, but there is no point in it, he is staring dead at you, not even glancing at Ningning waiting for a handshake. She takes her hand back and chuckles seeing the staring battle between the two. You were staring at him, without any emotion showing, scared that he might suspect something between the two of you.

“We are childhood friends, Mr. Kai, no hard feelings”

“Oh are you guys now?” he says as he turns his head, eyes still on you, but then he looks at Ningning and sends her the psychotic smile that made your skin crawl every time you saw it. You knew he was mad and in an attempt to calm him down, you took a step towards him grabbed his upper arm, and looked at him. The touch was gentle, and that did not go unnoticed by Ningning. Now she was the one clenching her jaw as she looked away.

“Kai don’t cause a scene, she's my friend, we were catching up,” you whisper as he looks down at you. He glares at you but looks up masking it perfectly.

“And here I was, wondering where my wife went,” he says and giggles which Ningning can only manage to send him a fake smile.

‘My wife’ coming from his mouth made Ningning livid. She should be the one saying it. She should be the one you wake up next to but here she was, in front of him.

“We have to go back,” you say as you turn to Ningning “ We are having lunch, right?” you say to him as he nods and grabs your wrist.

“We will talk another time, Ning Yi Zhuo” It was probably your first time hearing her actual name from someone other than her or her parents. But the question was… why would Kai and Ningning even speak about and how did they know each other?

It didn’t take two weeks for you to figure out why would they speak - they’re basically rivals in their job.

Both your husband and Ningning were law firm CEOs and the rivalry between the companies was pretty much known to mankind. So here they were, standing, a drink between their finger at a dinner party, hosted by someone you did not care slightly about.

But what you DID care about, was that the invited person had a chance to bring a plus one. You, as Kai’s wife, were his plus one. But who was Ningning’s plus one? She would never go alone to these kinds of parties, so you hawked around the big room full of people, trying to spot someone you had no idea about.

Till your eyes landed on a familiar one from the day on the bridge with Ningning. The girl had pink hair - very unusual for this kind of dinner, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. You trailed her movements before she approached Ningning, making you clench your jaw.

The way she leaned in, whispered into her ear, backed away, looked at ningning, everything, made your blood boil, why the hell were they so close? But then again, you shouldn’t be the jealous one, you were the reason for the breakup, after all.

You looked away, not wanting to anger yourself with the scenery unfolding right in front of you, that you had no control of. It made you feel uneasy and uncomfortable.

And to top it all, Kai walked over. ‘Great’ you thought, as you mentally got ready to brush off his arm around your shoulder, a move you mastered he loved. But before you could do that, he leaned down to your ear, whispering:

‘Ning yi zhuo is approaching, act like a loving wife, for once, goddamit’

All this caught you off guard, and you looked straight ahead, seeing he wasn’t lying. Ningning was slowly making her way over you two, arms hooked with a pink-haired stranger, as you decided to use this moment.

Be lovely-dovey with your ‘perfect husband’.

So you put your arm up to your shoulder, Kai expecting you to brush him off, even after he asked but instead, you held his hand, as you looked up to him with a reassuring smile, that completely caught him off guard and softened up with his touch around you.

As that happened right in front of Ningning, she wanted to break a glass on his head that he was holding. But what confused her more was, why were you smiling back at him? Didn’t you hate him? Did you just lie to her?

She approaches you two as she reaches out her hand to shake Kai as she looks at him, trying to maintain her composure, that you saw right thru of. ‘It was working as you turned your head towards the couple in front of you two. You send them a small smile as a greeting and watch the two of them shake hands.

“Mr. Kai, so nice to see you,” she says with a smile, you noticed how the left side of her cheek slightly shivered which was obvious she was not having any of the things that were unfolding in front of her.

“Same goes for you, Yizhuo,” he says as he smiles, which you knew was genuine, probably due to you letting him hold your hand. He shifts his gaze onto the pink-haired girl. “Who is this girl? First time seeing someone with hair like… that. Here” he paused, wanting to point out it was not normal to have hair color as bright to a place as honorable and noble as this dinner.

“This is Aeri, my friend,” She says, annoyance visible in her tone. “I think we should go somewhere private, No?” she suggests as you notice the change of posture and stiffness of your husband around you.

Was he always like this?

You didn’t know, you never let him close enough to feel his emotions thru touch.

He slid off hand from your shoulder as he grabbed both of them and turned you towards him, gently as he layed kiss on your forehead, whispering ‘don’t go too far’ as you nodded and smiled up to him. 

What were you even doing?

You watched to walk away, as you let out a breath you did not know were holding in as you turned to the aeri girl, sending her a smile as you excuse yourself but you stop when you hear someone call out your name.

You turned realizing it’s Aeri.

“y/n!”

“Yes?” you say as you smile at her, to be polite.

“Be careful.”

“What?”

“I said, be careful”

“Okay? Thank you?” you say confused as you turn on your heel and walk away, replying her words over and over. You walked mindlessly as you arrived to womens restroom and by the corner you hear muffled sounds, what seemed like two persons talking, but they sounded angry at one another. You didn’t wanna be involved but it was right near the bathroom so you walked over, clearly hearing the conversation.

The low whisper-yelling made it obvious to you, who was one of them.

Ningning.

But who was she arguing with???

“Yizhuo stay out of my fucking business!” another whisper yell, but louder.

Kai.

What the hell is going on?

“Your little precious ‘wife’ needs to know the asshole and murder you are, kai.”

Murderer.

It rang in your head, the same feeling of air slowly being taken from you came back, just like when you heard about your brothers passing, but before you process all of that you hear him bite back.

“And you need to stop messing with her head. You only came back to get revenge on me, leave her alone, we both know you don’t care about her, Yizhuo!”

Things just kept getting worse.

She only came back for… revenge? That’s what you only were to her?? A plaything for her to get revenge on your, alleged murderer husband??

What was going on, you had no idea but need to get away was huge so you ran.

You ran out, crying, causing everyone to look at your running figure, confused and taken aback. 

You ran till you own legs couldn’t support you.

You fell on the street sidewalk, staring at your own hands, hands that held his in your own.

hands that touched Ningning.

‘She was just using me’ is all you could think and repeat over and over.

Till your own mind shuts off on you.

finished.

god, this has been in my drafts for a while, heh..

[blegh-110]

iii. "im not a princess, this aint a fairytale"

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: Older brother’s best friend!Sam Monroe who was the first to break your heart when you were 14 and he was 16.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.5k

Next Part

You were ecstatic when you entered high school, there were more opportunities for you to see Sam instead of only seeing him when he came over. The night before your first day you imagined all the ways you could possibly see him; in the hallways, having lunch together, maybe and hopefully just one class together. 

And your first semester didn’t disappoint. The first few weeks were equally nerve-wracking and exciting. As you were entering a brand new, bigger school, you didn’t know where your classes were. And you got lost often, getting swept away by the larger crows in the narrow halls into some part of the school you had never been in. But Sam was somehow always there to save you by grabbing your heavy textbooks in one hand, your hand in the other and quickly leading you to your class. 

“I know it’s hard, but you have to push your way through these assholes. Especially the ones who stand right in the middle of the fucking hall.” And he gestured to the group who were indeed standing in the middle of the hall and walked right through them, taking you with him. You apologized to the girl you shouldered.

“Sam, we could’ve just gone around them!”

“Yeah, we could’ve. But what do they expect standing there?:

“I don’t think it’s that serious.” 

“Yes it is, now's the time to learn how to put your foot down or they’ll walk all over you.”

Or when he helped you learn how to open your locker because you just couldn’t get it, “It’s clockwise, then counterclockwise but skip the second number, then go directly to the last number clockwise.”

Maybe the lockers were just old, but you remember the time when he was sure he got the combination right but it just wouldn’t open. And he kept trying, whispering “fuck you, fuck you.”

“Sam, my class is about to start, hurry!” You were only half serious, the other part of you couldn’t help but find his frustration and growing panic funny. You covered your laugh with your hand as he looked at you with wide eyes, “it’s not fucking opening.”

You burst out laughing when he finally got it open because it took him aggressively pulling at the lock and a fall to the ground.

And you loved walking to your third hour because the two of you would cross paths, and not a day would go by where he wouldn’t say hi with a small wave, and a gentle ruffle to your hair if he was close enough. You felt special because out of all the people and his own friends he’d see, you were the one he’d acknowledge. 

But your favorite times together was when he would walk you home and carry your extremely heavy backpack for you. It was the best way to end the school day, the two of you recapping your days. How hard a test was, what you had for lunch, how annoying a particular teacher was, and any other anecdotes. You thought whatever the two of you were would only grow.

-

You weren’t exactly when it began happening, all you knew was that the boy you once got all starry eyed about was turning into the ones you didn’t like.  

Maybe it was when he got into the wrong crowd, the ones who always stunk of smoke and ditched school. You found it strange when you saw him being friendly with a few of them since he was always the one who turned you away from them, “Promise me you won’t end up like one of those morons, (y/n). That stuff is too fucking vile for you.” 

Or when he slowly stopped walking you home to go hang out with them. It made you sad but you understood that he couldn’t dedicate all of his time after school to you. He had his own friends and hobbies. But were you right to be concerned when you noticed he started cutting classes and skipping school to be with said friends? You caught him one time, trying to sneak away and he seemed surprised to see you had seen him. 

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Hi, Sam. Where are you going?” You asked softly, not wanting to anger him. He just seemed so angry and jumpy these days. 

“We’re just… gonna get an early lunch,” He could tell you didn’t really believe him when all you gave was a small, tight lipped smile and single head nod, he came closer and dipped his head down as he whispered “I’ll be back, I promise. And I’ll get you something if you keep quiet, okay?”

You felt like you didn’t have a choice, you obviously weren’t going to say no and force him to stay. And the bribe just didn’t seem right, it gave you a strange feeling in your gut. 

“No, that’s okay. I, um, I really have to get to class.” And you left with a small smile and quick turn, wanting the entire interaction to be over. It was weird to see him this way, and it left a weight on your shoulders to just let him go. Should you have at least tried to stop him? You looked out the window and were even more upset to see your brother with that group as well. Maybe it was seeing both of them this way, but you had the sudden urge to cry. 

Sam did end up getting you a large Dr. Pepper, but you just couldn’t will yourself to drink it and you threw it away.  

With each passing day he was getting further and further away from you, but you continued to push through it, hoping that the boy who taught you how to ride a bike and saved your winter dance night was still in there. He had to be. 

So you kept trying to talk to him. Which included helping him cut classes, reminding him of tests, telling him about your day. And maybe you were doing too much, and maybe you were embarrassing him in front of his cool friends. And maybe you should’ve expected such a response. 

“Jesus, you are so fucking annoying. Don’t you have any of your own friends?”

That one hurt the most. It wasn’t just the fact that he knew you weren’t the most sociable girl. In fact, it was hard for you to talk to others and to keep a conversation going. So the answer was no. 

It was also the angry look he gave you. The furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and the eye roll he gave when you didn’t answer. You’d never seen him this way. It was always playful smiles and soft words. The closest you had seen him this angry was when you didn’t bother to look both ways before crossing the street and you almost got run over, “you could’ve gotten killed, I shouldn’t have to tell you to look both ways when crossing a street.”

But that was tough love if anything, and he hugged you right after to calm you down because you were pretty shaken up and close to tears, “alright, that’s enough, you’re fine.”

You stood there in front of him, eyes wide and chest rising and falling rapidly, willing yourself to stay collected and calm while it felt like your whole world was crumbling in front of you. 

“Just… stay the hell away from me.” And he left. 

The rest of the day was a blur since Sam’s words left you dejected and shattered. You weren’t focused in your classes and didn’t pay any mind to what the people around you said. It was a constant replay of what he said to you and a constant fight to keep your emotions in. Who were you supposed to turn to for this?

You cried the entire night. You thought you were only being helpful, and to know that he actually saw you as a burden made you panic. For every little problem you had, you did end up going to him for help. For every stupid, little story you had, you ended up telling him. And when you felt lonely, you ended up going to him. But you couldn’t help it. Sam always seemed so happy to fix whatever issue it was you were having, and he looked like he was deeply interested in your trivial tales, and he was just so fun to be around. He was funny and kind and gentle and where is he now?

Or did he always feel that way and put up a good front? No, it couldn’t be that, it was too genuine. Did you happen to read too much into his actions? Possibly. Then you thought if the roles were reversed, kind of. If there was a younger girl in your life you certainly wouldn’t treat her meanly. You would always have a helping hand extended out just in case she needed it. Like a big sister. 

These thoughts and questions swirled in your mind until you came to the conclusion that you were just a young girl very in love with the older boy who only saw you as his best friend's young sister. And that he was done entertaining her and moving with his own crowd.

It was this that finally opened your eyes and made you go to sleep. It was your turn now to grow up and move on.  

divider by @dollywons

[86espresso]

can i get character B yelling character A’s name while they’re hurt for quinn hughes or nico hischier? i just found your blog and i am LOVING your writing. thanks for sharing your gift!!

I love you sososo much thank YOU 🥹 ty for requesting! so sorry it took that long 🩷

☯︎ character B yelling character A’s name while they’re hurt

idk if this means character A is hurt or character B is hurt so I just made something up

warning wounds, blood, almost drowning, pls take swimming lessons guys :)

You’d lost count of how many times Jack had whined for you to get into the water with the other guys, and how many times Quinn had told him to leave you alone.

Your relationship with Quinn was a relatively new development, but everything was going right and his family loved you enough to persuade Quinn into bringing you over during the summer.

You finally give in to Jack’s pushing and sit up, taking your cover up off. You catch Quinn eyeing you shamelessly the way you were doing with him earlier and half-smirk as Jack bounced happily towards you and yanked you in the direction of the steps of the boat.

Now, you weren’t exactly the best swimmer in the world. You could float and tread in shallow waters, but by no means were you trained enough to save your life. You were about make Jack aware of that fact before he gathered you in his arms and sent you flying into the water.

A scream ripped through your throat right before you hit the water. “What the fu-”

You land horizontally and painfully in the water but your body was bending in on itself and you didn’t have the strength to upright yourself.

Above the surface, Quinn hadn’t yet noticed that you’d taken a little too long underwater and was still shoving Jack for intimidating his new girlfriend.

It was a good 15 seconds since you jumped before Trevor spoke up from a few feet away.

“Yo, where’d your girl go?”

Quinn froze, feeling his blood run cold when he sees nothing in the water at first glance but then sees the top of your head bob to the surface, your body terrifyingly still. What makes him yell out your name, though, is the small pool of blood around you.

The last thing he registers is the blood draining from Jack’s face as he dove into the water, opening his eyes and trying to locate you. Quinn sees you a short distance from him, and grabs a hold of your body, pushing both of you to the surface.

You’ve properly passed out with the almost-drowning and large scratch on your back from one of the spiky plants underwater. The next few minutes, Quinn worked as if on autopilot. His movements robotic but frantic as he first brought you to consciousness, instructed Trevor to drive back to the docks, and tried to console Jack as he apologized his ear off.

He felt like he was in a haze when the ER discharged you after making sure you didn’t have an infection and had enough blood, your lungs weren’t full of water, all the important stuff.

You laughed watching Jack scrunch his nose in disgust when Quinn offers to teach you swimming with a suggestive smirk on his face, rolling your eyes as he leans in to peck you again, his lips lingering as if he still isn’t over the way he nearly saw you drown.

Quinn watched as you comforted Jack even though it was you who almost lost your life. He didn’t know he could feel so strongly; fear of losing you, comfort and contented by watching how you were with his brothers. He’s falling for you hard and fast and he isn’t scared because you looked at him the same way; with a gaze full of love and affection.

[louisupdates]

INTERVIEW: Lottie Tomlinson: we lost our mum and sister. Louis saved me

At the age of 20, the sister of One Direction singer Louis had already lost her mother, Johannah, and sister Félicité. Now 25, the social media star has written a book about how they coped

Alice Thomson | Tuesday July 23 2024, 5.00pm BST, The Times

Losing Mum was so hard. I was only a teenager but at least I knew that her death was a possibility, even though she didn’t accept it. She was 47 and had cancer. But when my sister died three years later, I was on this hotel balcony in Bali and I was screaming, ‘No, my baby sister, no.’ The pain was indescribable. I kept thinking, ‘Why me? This can’t be happening again. When is this going to end?’ ”

We are sitting on Lottie Tomlinson’s immaculate white sofa in her pristine white house in Chislehurst, southeast London, where she is curled up in tiny shorts with a perfect tan and impeccably applied make-up. But her French manicured nails are digging so hard into the sofa I think they might snap, the heart tattoo on her minuscule wrist is throbbing and her eyelashes are clogged with tears.

Her life sounds blessed. The influencer has 4.8 million Instagram followers waiting for her to dispense advice on how to apply mascara; the fake tan brand, Tanologist, that she launched at 19 has gone global; and she has a devoted fiancé, Lewis Burton, who runs a luxury concierge business and whose former girlfriend was the late Caroline Flack. They have an adorable son called Lucky, who is dripping ice cream on her marble counters. Her new book is also called Lucky Girl; her older brother is Louis Tomlinson of One Direction and she was touring the world with the band as a make-up artist at 16.

But after her mother died when she was 18, Tomlinson was left looking after her younger sister and two sets of twin siblings, aged eight and two, while creating her businesses, and trying to process her grief. Her father had left their home in Doncaster years before after a battle with alcohol. “Dad had a drinking problem. We’d see glimpses of his good side but he let us down,” she says. “I ended up trying to take care of him rather than the other way round.”

When her mother died, life felt bleak, “I lost the one person who loved me unconditionally, and then when my sister Fizz [Félicité] died of an accidental overdose, I thought I could never be happy again,” she says. “I found the lead-up to Mother’s Day devastating without my sister as well. It was a constant reminder that I was now different from my friends. In my dreams, my mum was still there; she was alive. I woke up feeling comforted, only to realise that she’d gone.”

Tomlinson, who is now 25 and a patron of the bereavement charity Sue Ryder, moves easily between telling you how to apply the best tan and how to talk about death. She cares passionately about both subjects and takes them equally seriously, worried that I’ve never tried a bronzer or used foundation before asking how I coped when my mother died during the pandemic. Her soft Yorkshire accent is both reassuring and no-nonsense.

Born near Doncaster, she was only two when Fizz was born and six when the first twins arrived. “I’ve always been the big sister — Fizz and I each got one and then more twins six years later.” While Louis had his own space, the girls all shared one room with bunk beds. “It was chaos, but my mum, Johannah, was a midwife and loved being pregnant and having so many babies,” she explains. “I used to be in awe of the way she could feed the twins at once, one on each hip. She would do the night shifts, while I held the fort at home.”

Within a few years, Tomlinson would be touring America, Asia and Europe, flying first class with Louis, part of the biggest boy band in the world, but until she was 15, the family had only ever gone to France once a year all packed into a seven-seater car, with her mother’s new partner, snacks laid out in the middle. They stayed in a caravan park. On a Sunday, a treat was to go to their mother’s hospital to see the babies.

While Louis just wanted to sing, play the guitar and listen to Oasis, the girls were obsessed with make-up. “From the age of 12, I struggled academically, but I loved cropped clothes and my mum’s highlighters and mascaras.” She learnt how to apply everything from YouTube tutorials, rather than doing algebra. “We didn’t have much money — we sometimes couldn’t afford to top up the electricity meter so used candles — but everything my mum earned she spent on us. We all looked immaculate — I remember her being horrified when I dyed my hair orange. So it was lovely later when we could treat her.”

Saturday nights were spent watching The X Factor. “My mother and brother kept applying; in 2010, he got in and the whole family went for the audition. We believed in him, but we never thought it would go that far.” One day the family were going to the live shows, the next the boy band was formed with Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan and Liam Payne. “He was 18. For my mum it was a big shock. It was all so sudden. The press and fans were in our front garden every day.”

The older twins had already made their first TV appearances — they sound like Doncaster’s Von Trapps. “My mother was gently pushy,” Tomlinson says, smiling at the thought. “When I didn’t get good enough GCSEs to stay at school, she sent me off to join Louis on tour as work experience. I was so scared. I remember her ringing up Lou [Teasdale], their hair and make-up artist, and saying, ‘Lottie has not got through to sixth form; she’s going to come and assist you.’ I was in the car going, ‘No, please don’t.’ But it ended up being the best thing that happened to me. I went for a week and stayed two years. Lou and I are still so close.”

Suddenly, the two eldest Tomlinson children were circling the world, eating room service and ducking the paparazzi hanging out of helicopters taking snaps. “At first Louis didn’t really want his little sister gate crashing his new rock-star life, but now it feels like the best time of our lives — we experienced that craziness together,” she says.

The teenage Tomlinson found it harder to cope with being photographed wherever she went. “I had some puppy fat which made me very self-aware, and the filler culture was coming in and I felt I had to look perfect.” She had her lips done first at 17. “Then I became addicted: cheek filler, jaw filler, more make-up, blonder hair, slimmer and more tanned. My mum thought I looked perfect, but I was always searching.”

Five years later, when she became pregnant with Lucky and her lips started to swell and crack, she realised she didn’t need the enhancements any more. “I had everything removed, the false eyelashes too. It was liberating.” She kept her boob job, however. “That was just enhancement,” she says laughing. “The rest radically changed the way I looked. My breasts also got huge when I was pregnant and it was a bit painful. But I still breastfed. I loved carrying my child. I felt fantastic even when I was sick and exhausted.”

She leans forward, wraps her bronzed arms around her stomach and whispers, “I am pregnant again. We don’t know yet if it’s a boy or girl. It’s only 13 weeks, so this is the first time I’ve said it publicly. I think I want a big family. I loved having Lucky but after a year I wanted to give him siblings.”

Tomlinson’s influencer career began once she established herself on tour. Soon everything she did, even dying her roots rainbow-coloured, went viral and fashion companies from Asos to Dior wanted in on it. “I was just going for it. I couldn’t believe the money I was making and spending — money I didn’t know existed as a child.”

Then suddenly her mum came home from holiday with flu. “She didn’t want to get out of bed. The doctors quite quickly told her she had leukaemia and she went straight to London for treatment. It all happened so fast. I remember being in London at work and getting a call from her partner — she couldn’t say the words herself, it was too hard for her.” The family were told it was treatable. “We kept so much hope.”

Her mother asked the family to keep her illness secret. “It was hard because you feel so isolated, but I understood. Louis was in the public eye and she didn’t want him questioned. She was determined to fight it and didn’t want everyone pitying her. My friends noticed I was acting differently for a few months. But I wanted to respect her wishes. It was her one request.”

She also dropped everything to go back to Doncaster to help her grandparents with the twins. “The younger ones were two and I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible. I can’t imagine what my mum was feeling leaving her kids to go to hospital.

“I would take them down and treasure seeing her — we tried to keep it light, no serious conversation. The only way Mum could cope was to keep it normal. Then, when the doctors said the transfusions hadn’t worked, she came home to die.”

Tomlinson tries to sound matter-of-fact. “We went to see her in hospital in Sheffield and the next morning we woke up and were told she had died. We felt numb. We didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Now I am involved with the Sue Ryder charity, I am surprised we were offered no support or counselling at all, from the GP, the teachers, the professionals. They all kept away.” Her nan and grandad picked up the pieces.

It’s not surprising she can’t remember the funeral. “I just remember getting really drunk to numb the pain. I couldn’t come to terms with it. I can’t even remember how we organised it. My instinct was to take over as the eldest girl and step into my mum’s shoes so that is what I did.” Meanwhile, her older brother, who was launching his solo career, ensured there was enough money. “He’s incredibly generous. We looked after each other.”

Tomlinson returned to London months later, after her grandmother said she needed to become a role model for her siblings. Her younger sister Fizz worried her most. “She was very academic — she got straight A’s without trying — but she always said she felt different. She was bottling her grief for so long; it was too much and made her turn to other things. I think Mum’s death destroyed her. Only my mum seemed to understand her. If she had been offered some help at the start, things might have been different.”

Meanwhile, Tomlinson’s self-tanning brand was soon being sold in Los Angeles, New York and Australia, while her own fanbase grew; she hardly ever needed to pay for drinks, meals or holidays. However, she finds the term influencer obnoxious. “I don’t want to act like I tell people what to do. I am more of a content creator,” she explains. “I get paid by brands to create content for their clothes or beauty products and promote that to my followers. I also wanted my own business. I was quite aware that, at the end of the day, I was just working with an app. That’s why I started Tanologist with my business partner. I was always using tanning treatments that would end up turning my sheets orange and my face would break out in spots — this is more natural.”

Louis was also forging his career as a solo artist, eventually creating the song Two of Us about his mother’s death. “We were always so proud of Louis and what he was doing. We were not going to match up to being a global superstar, but we didn’t want to — ‘successful’ looks different for everyone,” she says.

But her sister Fizz was slipping and struggling. “She was old enough to do what she wanted at 19; she was partying and taking stuff to numb everything. She did go into rehab but to me it didn’t feel like an addiction problem, but a way to blank out her grief.” When Tomlinson was invited to Bali, she asked Fizz whether she wanted her to stay behind. “She said she was OK, and then it happened while I was away,” she says. (Fizz accidentally overdosed on cocaine, an anxiety drug and painkillers, her inquest found.) “Louis called me…” She stops talking.

The shock of a second death must have been devastating. She doesn’t speak for a minute while she twists her huge diamond engagement ring. “We weren’t mentally prepared,” she eventually says. “I can’t even remember if the two funerals were in the same church. I think grief has affected my memory a lot and that’s quite common. Grief is such a powerful emotion; it takes up a lot of your brain.”

Five years later, she now knows how to remain positive. “I had an amazing mum for 18 years. I have the most amazing family, my little boy and my career, and that is because of her. The same with Fizz — I had an amazing sister. It’s heartbreaking they aren’t with us any more, but they are together and they are looking out for me,” she says, sounding as though she is repeating a mantra.

Having a baby made her feel closer to them both. “He was a boy — it’s funny, he actually looks a lot like Louis did — and I thought, this is what my mother must have felt. But then I had so many questions I couldn’t ask, even more because she was a midwife.”

Her biggest problem was her terror that something terrible would happen to her son. “I became fixated [on the idea that] something bad would happen to him, so I couldn’t sleep. You go to the worst-case scenario, because that’s happened to you twice, to two of the closest people in your life. I couldn’t turn the lights off at night; I needed to see him all the time. Luckily, it calmed down quite quickly.”

We are still flitting between her story and advice on make-up, exercise and clothes.

“I like sharing advice. If a child lost their mother, I would say there is no magic answer. But the point of this book is to show that you can have tragic things happen and still keep going.”

What would the 25-year-old now say to her younger self, struggling at her second funeral at the age of 20? “I would say, ‘You are going to be OK; you will live a nice life.’ I didn’t think I could. I thought this will be a really sad, lonely life without my mum and sister. I wouldn’t have believed then that I could be happy again. But it would have been nice to hear.”

Lucky Girl by Lottie Tomlinson (Bonnier, £22). To order a copy go to timesbookshop.co.uk. Free UK standard P&P on orders over £25. Special discount available for Times+ members

[callieisto]

HAPPY (LATE!) BIRTHDAY RO MY LOVE!!! Have some of the softest birthday sex with Sam I could cook up <33 @ivysangel

⊹˚₊‧꒰ა𓆩✧𓆪໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹

Usually, Hunters didn’t have partners. Hunters didn’t live long enough or safe enough to love someone properly, maintain anything the way a relationship needed to be maintained.

Clearly, Sam never got the memo.

“Missed you,” Sam said breathlessly, kissing you as soon as you opened the door to your apartment. Long distance was hell, especially when he was away for your birthday. It just made him feel like the shittiest boyfriend ever, just the worst. He could save you from a stalker vampire, but he couldn’t convince Dean to leave him in a town the week of your birthday.

To be fair to Sam- in many, many ways, dealing with a stalker vampire was much easier than dealing with his brother.

But Sam would find his way to you if the world was ending, if the sky was spitting fire and the seas turned to lava. He would crawl over broken glass to see you smile. He loved you more than he loved the idea of saving the world.

He pulled away to study your face, to just soak you in. God, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He leaned in again to nuzzle against your nose, the smile on his face infectious.

“You got your hair done,” he whispered, taking one of the braids between his fingers and twisting it slightly. “It looks good. You look good. God, I missed you.”

He kisses you again, crowding you back into your apartment, cradling your face in his hands. To say he’s desperate would be an understatement. He’s starving for you, he’s been going through withdrawals, and the simple feeling of your mouth on his feels like coming home.

He always wanted a normal life. And meeting you had been just the most amazing thing in the world. Falling into bed with you the first time had felt like… god, like something had clicked in his brain. Like the universe had finally righted itself. He’d been so lost, been living outside his body since uprooting his entire life, and you brought him right back.

Right now, though, he needed you so bad it hurt.

Curling over you- god, you’re so small in comparison to him, so beautiful- he smiles that crooked little smile down at you, hands moving from your face to your hips.

“Let me make it up to you,” he begs plainly, because Sam Winchester is not above begging for the woman he loves. “Please?”

“Okay,” you giggle, and he nearly cries with relief because god, he just loves you so much.

He picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, his hands supporting your thighs, and carries you down the hall to your bedroom. It’s cute, it’s so you, and he can’t help but remember the first night he ended up tangled in your sheets. You had just moved in, and there were boxes everywhere, and you had been so scared when the brothers broke your door down and basically camped out in your living room until that scummy vampire had showed his face.

Dean, who had apparently met another girl in the same city, decided to spend the night with her. Which left Sam without a car, and, well…

It was history.

He crawled over you when he softly dropped you on the bed, trailing his hands up and down and up and down- just feeling you, because it’s been so long, because he loves you, because he wants to be close to you in a way he never wants to be close with anyone else again.

“Happy late birthday, baby.” He whispered, kissing down your throat. Your giggle makes him smile, makes his cheeks flush. God, he’s so whipped for you it’s embarrassing.

Pretty soon, you’re naked. And he’s naked too, but he’s using your thighs as earmuffs as he presses sweet kisses to your clit.

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he murmured like a prayer, licking a stripe up your folds. He moans, trying not to rut his cock against the bed like a loser. He sucks on your clit, pulling you further down on the bed and laughing when you squeak out in surprise.

“Sam!” You chide breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows with an affectionate look on your face.

He just smiles, and shrugs, and goes back to eating you out like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs against you, hitching your legs higher so he can tongue fuck you deeper, can slurp at you like you’re a fucking soup, his nose bumping against your clit all the while. “You’re so fucking pretty, taste so good, lemme have it, give it to me please…”

When your legs tremble around his head and you buck your hips into his mouth, cumming with a little cry of his name, he swears he’s never tasted anything sweeter. He could spend hours between your legs, and has, but the way you’re squirming makes him think that maybe, just maybe, you missed him just as much as he missed you.

So he leans back once you’re limp on the bed, kissing his way up your body until he reaches your mouth. “You’re so perfect.” He said, his voice tight. “God, you’re so perfect baby, I missed you so much.”

He kissed you slow, soft, big hand cupping your breast in his hand, tweaking the nipple just to hear you squeak.

He pulls back, a string of spit connecting his tongue to yours. He lets go of your boob, reaching for the bedside table to dig around for a condom. He found one, sitting back on his haunches to tear the little foil packing open with his teeth.

It is unfairly sexy, especially considering how you’re pretty sure you look like a mess. He rolls the condom on, running two fingers through your wetness to lube up his cock a little bit. He leans back over you, carefully, kissing your forehead.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, notching his tip at your entrance very carefully. “I missed you so much, baby, god… love you, love you s’much…”

He groans when he pushes in almost annoyingly carefully, like you might break, like he’s been away for so long that you might have forgotten what he feels like inside you.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours when his hips are flush with yours. “Hi pretty girl.” He crooned, peppering your face with kisses. “Oh, you look so pretty, all full of me. Good god.”

You squirm under his careful kisses, whining impatiently. “Sam,” you whimper, trying to kick at him to knock him out of the little lovey dovey haze he’s in. “Sam, move! Mnh-”

The little sound you make drives him crazy, and he starts moving, slowly, carefully. He picks up the pace when you let little moans slip out, because that has got to be his favorite sound in the world. The little whimpers, the way your eyes flutter, the way your lips part sweetly.

His hand snakes down your body to rub at your clit, because when you seize up with a cry of his name and soak his cock, he wants to cry because he’s so happy.

He keeps working at it, thrusts getting faster and harder as you squeal out a little “Sam, sensitive!”

“Just one more,” he croons down at you, his voice tight. “Just give me one more, sweetheart, one more, please, ‘s your birthday present, gonna make you cum at least one more time…”

And, true to his words, he makes you cum again. You cling to his bicep, manicured nails digging into his skin, crying out weakly as tears of pleasure smudge your makeup and trail down your cheeks. He groans as his hips stutter to a stop, the condom filling as he leaned over her, panting weakly.

He kissed your tears from your face, smiling softly. “Hey, pretty girl. You did so good. You made me feel so good, baby, god, I missed you.”

The two of you lie like that for a while, sweaty and sated. After a few minutes of gentle kisses and sweet praise, he pulled out, chuckling when you whimper at the empty feeling. He took the condom off, tying it before he tossed it into the trashcan by your bedside table. He grabbed his boxers, hiking them back up before crawling into bed with you.

“I missed you.” He whispered again, while you busied yourself settling against his chest. “I’m in town for the week. What do you say we go out and get you some birthday presents tomorrow?”

Your hum makes him smile. He kisses your forehead, gets comfortable, and the two of you fall asleep tangled in your sheets.