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It’s Always Been You
🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎
Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭
Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.
“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.
This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.
“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.
It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”
“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”
“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”
“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.
You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”
“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”
The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”
Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”
A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”
But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.
He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.
“C-Caleb…”
He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.
You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”
Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”
Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.
He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”
“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.
Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“This really isn’t the time for that—”
“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”
Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.
“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”
“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”
“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.
He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”
Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created
The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.
You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.
Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.
But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.
According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.
The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.
And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…
“Welcome home, I—”
“Who else has been here?”
“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”
“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…
His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”
Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”
Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”
“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”
A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”
His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”
“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”
“That night means everything to me!”
“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”
That stopped him short, “you mean?”
“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”
His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.
Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”
“Finally used your brain, did you?”
“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.
“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.
“Sweetheart—”
“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”
His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”
“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”
A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.
Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.
“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”
“Go away.”
“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”
You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”
The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”
“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”
“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.
Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”
A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.
“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”
“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”
“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”
“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”
“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.
“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”
Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”
The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”
“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.
Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”
“Did you like it?”
You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”
“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”
The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.
You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”
I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl
All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto
#caleb x reader#lads caleb x you#caleb x mc#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb smut#caleb fluff#lads x reader#lnds caleb#lads mc#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic
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Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)
Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33
cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words
The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner.
“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you.
He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.
“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?”
“For me or the car?” you joke.
“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.”
You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up.
It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.
“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.”
Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway.
His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?”
You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath.
“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.”
It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him.
James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.”
“You were at work.”
“I’d have left work.”
“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.”
James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.”
A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James.
After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?”
You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.”
“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?”
“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.”
“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”
“James. I will take your car home without you in it.”
“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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ch9 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)
tw: kidnapping. yeah...
masterlist | next
You feel like a teenager again.
Your first date is full of nerves and hormones, shy eye contact in the warm light of the candlelight dinner. That is, the candlelight dinner John organized in the back of a London bookstore you’d never explored, shut down early for the public so you could have a private dinner date. He takes you on a shopping spree after, setting you loose on the quiet store with no restrictions on time or money. You pick a few books to be sent back to your library in the country (what an extraordinary thought to have!), and a few for home. Home. Over the past weeks, almost two months, you now think of John’s home as yours. His bed as yours, his life entwined with yours.
“I would say you’re spoiling me too much, but honestly, you owe me.” You mention as John shadows your book search, his body heat searing into yours. He laughs, waves of sounds settling into your skin. “Glad y’r stayin’ true t’ y’r beliefs, sweetheart.” You nudge him with your hip and he takes advantage of your proximity, pulling you closer into the cage of his body. You grab the book you were perusing and tug it to your chest on instinct. “Hey! I said nothing sexual.” John nuzzles your neck, hands wrapping around your waist to rub at the pudge of your stomach. “‘S not sexual, jus’ comfort.” You melt like chocolate, conforming to the contours of his body.
“Tell me ya hate me.”
He whispers into the space between your ear and shoulder. You shudder at his words, pushing back into him to get closer. “I’m not answering that.” It’s the best you can give him without showing your cards. He hums in approval, sending a shock of electricity to your core. “Guess I’ll hav’ t’ take ya out again.” You turn in his arms, the book between you like a shield. “Someone’s presumptuous. Don’t you know it’s bad luck to plan a second date during the first?” He shrugs, the grays in his beard glinting in the lamplight. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” You gasp in faux-outrage, hitting him square in the chest with the book you’re holding. He barely moves, not having the decency to look hurt. If anything, he stalks closer with eyes like a tiger, a look at you like you’re prey. “Do tha’ again.”
That night, his words echo in your head. A little flower of insecurity grows in a hidden crevice of your heart. “Y’r a sure thing, sweetheart.” The memory of his smile, joking and lighthearted in the moment, warps into a smirk in your mind. In the bed you’re lying in, you inch away from John’s sleeping body as it replays over and over. Would all of this be happening if you weren’t married? How much of his hunger for you is fed by the fact that you’re the closest option? That you’re easy, letting him get you off within a few weeks of knowing each other. Sleep only comes hours later, when you’ve wrought your brain of all its thinking power.
John wakes you with sweet words and intimate cuddles, holding you against him as he tells you about all the places he wants to take you. Your earlier doubts, screaming and rioting, fade away into a whisper, letting his words wash over you. You forget about it.
Mostly.
-
Your own bookstore is getting along well. You’ve hired another assistant, a man named Arthur who was a referral of Phil’s. The extra help goes a long way, as he’s experienced enough to install the cafe you wanted in the front. In the next month, you order inventory and thrift furniture. You venture out to cafes to inquire about catering and post job listings for a cafe worker and bookseller.
On the weeknights you go on dates, John insists on picking you up from the store. It’s only one or two nights a week, where he’s free enough to do a late dinner or a drive around town. John shows London to you in bits and pieces, shyly peeling back the film of mystery that covers the town. You go to hole-in-the-walls, cuisines ranging from Jamaican to Indian to traditional British fare. The owners always seem to know him, giving him the best seats of the house and refusing to take his card. You’re starting to understand how much of an influence he holds, how the caring husband behind closed doors is also the feared mafia boss outside of them. It’s like you’re learning him anew, sharing childhood memories and terrible twenties stories every date. It’s a fantasy of what life would’ve been like if you’d met him naturally.
Speaking of his frightfulness, he’s not friendly with either of your assistants, but after a stern talking to, he becomes begrudgingly polite. He speaks in monosyllables and grunts, only offering you a full English conversation. Despite yourself, you find it a little endearing. This non-jealousy looks good on him and makes him handsier in car rides.
“Y’ look so fuckin’ good in these.” He’s talking about the overalls you thrifted, which appalled Gaz when he stopped by for breakfast this morning. You insisted they’re practical for the work you’re doing: going through newly delivered inventory and moving furniture around to your liking. “Thought you liked me in fancy things.” You murmur. He tells your driver to keep driving, then rolls up the partition to give you some privacy. John yanks you into his lap, a tight fit between his bulk and the ceiling of the car. It forces you to curl in tighter, your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Think y’re wearin’ these to our next gala.” Our. It grows roots and you hope it's poisonous enough to kill that flower of insecurity. He pulls you closer, and even through the denim of your pants, you can feel him grow hard under you. “John…” He kisses your exposed neck, then licks at the dust that’s settled on your skin. It’s so primal, like he’s reduced to base instincts when he’s with you. “We’re not doin’ anythin’. Jus’ want ya t’ know wha’ ya do t’ me.” He bites your earlobe, then soothes it with a lick. “So this has nothing to do with my all-male employee force?” He growls and you giggle at his annoyance. John pulls you back a bit so you’re off his cock, smirking when you groan at the loss. “Nah. Jus’ reminding you wha’ y’ve got at home.” You plant a quick kiss on his lips, then roll off and into the seat next to him. Despite the glaring safety violation, you tuck your legs under you and rest your knee on his thigh. Your hand runs through his beard, then moves up to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. “Consider me reminded.” He kisses your palm near his face. “Now take me to dinner, I’m starving.”
-
Weeks later, you’re home late from your favorite date yet. A private movie screening of a drama film you’ve been talking about for weeks. The set-up was thoughtful and sweet, with your favorite candies and popcorn set up with a comfy blanket. However, the movie was darker than you thought, with a primary focus on a father and his strained relationship with his daughter. Two hours of watching them on screen left you raw and bloody, silent on the car ride back home.
“Feelin’ ok?” You nod. He squeezes your thigh, but when he tries to keep his hand there, you cross your legs so it falls off. He seems to get the message, stroking the outside of your thigh before pulling his hand back.
When you get home, Gaz is at your kitchen table. You nod to him in greeting, then try to bypass him in favor of a hot shower, but he stands up and blocks your path. “We need to talk, ma’am.” His eyes flick up to John standing behind you. “Sir, you need to hear this.”
Gaz lays out building plans and tax documents that blur in front of you. Your tired brain can’t comprehend what he’s saying, something about “encroachment” and “buying up buildings.” John goes into work mode, shrugging off his jacket and sitting down to take a closer look.
“Am I really needed here? I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” John’s eyes are warm but Gaz’s aren’t, his smooth skin marred by a frown. “Shepherd's bought a building a block from your bookstore. From what I can tell, it’s empty, but it’s a safety risk. It’s got a basement that we can’t get our eyes on.” You drag a hand down your face, clearly not equipped for this conversation. “Look, it’s empty, right? So just keep eyes on it and up my number of guards. I bought my bookstore under a ghost LLC, so the only way he’ll know is if he sees me. I’ll start using the back entrance.” Gaz’s eyes flit to John’s, waiting for his opinion. You groan at being dismissed so clearly.
“You know what, you guys figure this out. I’m going to bed.”
You leave before they can say anything. A hot shower calls your name, but the water is abrasive instead of calming. The same thing happens with your skincare, sitting too heavy for comfort on your face. When you’re ready for bed, and John’s still not there, you pop a few melatonin and go to sleep, eager to delay any sort of conversation.
-
He wakes you by brushing your shoulder gently. It’s clear the sun’s been up for a while, a rare sleep in. “Hi, baby.” You grumble at his words, turning to smother your face in your pillow. He kisses your shoulder, where his hand was, and stays there for a second, dark blue eyes tracking yours. “We need to talk.” His tone switches from sweet to serious, enough of a change to warrant you turning back to squint at him. “No.” He did not expect that, eyebrows raising. “No to whatever suggestion you’re going to make about delaying my opening or shutting down my bookstore.” You push off the covers, rising to get ready, but he yanks your arm and tugs you under him.
“It’s not fuckin’ safe.” He growls out. You push against him, trying for once. He uses his strength against you, pushing you further into the mattress. “Then make it safer. I’m not giving this up. There’s not even a clear threat yet.” You spit. Your tactical knowledge of Simon’s security strategy come to the forefront of your mind. “I’m puttin’ Gaz on yer team.” You roll your eyes, finally pushing off him to go use the bathroom. He follows you like a hound, not stopping when you try to shut the door in his face. “You’re not putting Gaz on my team. He would hate it. I don’t need a babysitter.” John doesn’t trust you, doesn’t trust the fact that you’ve been in this life for decades and know how to analyze a threat. John doesn’t respond as you pee defiantly, even when you throw a roll of toilet paper at his head to get him to leave. It’s only when you’re done washing your hands that he responds.
“It’s gettin’ more violent everyday, sweetheart. I can’t be biased when I make this call. Might need to send you t’ the country.” You can’t even compute his sentence. “What, send me away like you did 20 years ago?” That was not what you wanted to say. That was not how you wanted this conversation to be, you washing your face in your shared bathroom while he stares at you through the mirror. “Spit it out, darlin’. ‘S clear you want to.” You don’t comment on how he’s never called you darling and how evil he is to whip it out in that deep accent of his now. You towel off your face, then whirl around to face him, exposed in so many ways. “I think it’s pretty clear. You send me away when I complicate things. You did it when I was a kid and you’re doing it now. I’m a fucking problem to you, John.” He runs a hand through his beard, agitated.
“Tha’ why you hate me? ‘Cuz I told yer old man t’ send you away when I was 16 and green in the gills, not knowin’ a damn thing?” You frown, turning back to rub lotion on your face. You take your time, rubbing the excess into your wrists. John tracks the movement with squinted eyes. “I know you were young, John, but I was too.” John pulls you into him by the fabric of your t-shirt (his t-shirt). He settles his hands on your waist, ensuring eye contact before speaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry f’ bein’ an idiot when I was young an’ not thinkin’ about the little girl’s life I was destroyin’.” Well. That was the apology you’d been chasing for months, if not years. So why weren’t you satisfied?
“Thank you. But it doesn’t change what you’re trying to do now.” You stand and look at each other, silent. His hands don’t move and neither do yours, akimbo at your sides. “‘M not sendin’ you away. I’m keepin’ ya safe.” He murmurs. You shake your head in disagreement. “London is my home, John. The bookstore is my life. Where would you even send me?” He looks away, uncharacteristically unsure. “The country.” You roll your eyes. “You said that. I’m asking where.” He grips your hips hard, startling you. “The library.” You bark out a laugh. “The library? What, am I gonna sleep on the couch and just haunt the place.” A realization dawns on you. “No way.”
“Baby-”
“You own it?!”
“It was my first real estate purchase.”
“When were you going to tell me? You just, what, invented an old, dying friend?”
He almost looks embarrassed, the blush of his cheeks hidden in parts by his beard. “I didn’t want ya to feel trapped and you hated me too much then to take it freely. Yer mad I did somethin’ nice?” You pull away out of his grip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I am trapped, John. No matter how I feel about you now, I didn’t pick this marriage. On top of that, you lied. You won’t let me go on trips with you, you’re trying to push these security decisions on me, and I can’t even tell if you like me for me or my proximity. I need to go to work before I say something I’ll regret.” You dodge his reach easily, shucking on the nearest nice clothes you can find before heading downstairs to find Terrance. The clothes end up being your recently worn jeans and one of his button-ups, white for a change. It smells like him, pine and musk and man. You sniff the collar discreetly when Terrance is arranging for the car. Quick steps thud down the stairs and when you turn he’s there in a suit, unruffled and polished. You dart out the front door as quickly as possible, but because you’re weak and shameful, you turn back right before you get into the car. You mouth ‘bye’, brows knitted in frustration, and a sliver of betraying warmth hits your heart as he mouths ‘bye’ back.
-
Kyle is going to ask for a raise next week. He’s been working twelve-hour days, tearing through Shepherd's finances non-stop. He’s finally gotten to Shepherd’s employee list, unofficial, of course. Bored with the bland names, he switches over to his tabs on the bookstore. In his perusal, a name catches his eye. Phillip Sorth. Where has he seen that before?
Kyle goes through the man’s file. Pretty standard, worked at a bar before this. Kyle didn’t create this report, handing it off to a person on his team. So he’s disappointed when he clicks on the bar name, The General, and is returned with a blank page. Whoever made this is getting fucking fired.
The bar closed down three years ago. Which is odd, because Phil’s resume says he only stopped working there six months ago. When Kyle runs the address, alarm bells go off. It’s one of Shepherd’s.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He dials Price’s phone, which goes straight to voicemail. Shit. While he waits, Kyle runs another test and sure enough, Phil’s NI number links to a Phillip Graves, not Sorth. Which, of course, is a name on Shepherd’s fucking list. A top name, actually. The man’s a high-ranking spy.
Kyle dials Terrance, who also doesn’t pick up. He bursts out of the security room and ensures his keys are in his pockets before heading out the door. “Shut this shit down. We’re at Level 5.” He barks out to the men guarding the door, emulating his Captain. They immediately start talking in their earpieces and out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees his men in the park close in on the Castle. Good. Someone needs to protect this place while he tracks down a fucking rat. Before someone harms the new angel of the Castle.
-
“Arthur, do you mind putting these away? I think my arms are going numb.” He takes the box from your hands with ease, winking as he walks away. You breathe out a sigh of relief, then trek to find Phil. He was finalizing the checkout desk, but now he’s nowhere to be seen. You really want to get his opinion on your ideas for wall decor. You head back to the office, thinking he might be there, but pause right before you walk in. Phil’s on the phone, and the walls are thin enough that you can hear his entire conversation.
“Yessir, copy that.” Who’s he calling sir? It’s like how Gaz addresses John, deferent and loyal. “Affirmative. Later today. We’ll get the van ready and-”, the rest of what he says is muffled, like he’s turned away from the door. Something isn’t right.
That’s when you realize you haven’t seen Terrance in over thirty minutes. He went to the bathroom, which he always tells you about, making you feel like a third-grade teacher, but he hasn’t come back. You dig in your pocket for your phone, then swear when you remember you left it on the cafe counter. When you turn to go find it, there’s a wall in front of you. A human wall. Arthur.
“Sorry ‘bout this.” You try to run but a strong grip captures your arms, holding you firmly in place. From the corner of your eye you see Phil, holding you tight as you struggle against him. “John will find you. My brother will find you. You’re going to-”, except you can’t tell him what he’s going to regret, as Arthur holds a rag over your mouth and everything goes dark.
-
Sorry this took so long! This semester has been crazy. Im thinking 3-4 more chapters and we’ll be done! I hope nothing happens to reader…
-
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HIM & I
rafe cameron x fem!reader
SUMMARY: rafe confronts the pogues after they try to get his girl to turn on him—big mistake.
based on this ask !! sorry it took a while anon, but i hope you enjoy it and it’s what you asked for :) got a couple request in the drafts stm, just editing them and i’m gonna’ start posting them one after the other <3
(check out my other drew starkey & rafe cameron works here !!)
WARNINGS: cursing, rafe threatening the pogues, mentions of murder, maybe a sliiightly toxic relationship (?), alcohol consumption. (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
THIRD PERSON +
The summer heat hung heavy in the air, thick with salt and gasoline, the scent of the Outer Banks. The island was split in two—the Kooks, who had everything, and the Pogues, who had nothing. And in the middle of it all stood Y/N, Rafe Cameron’s girl.
Not just his girlfriend. His obsession.
Rafe wasn’t known for being soft. Not with his father breathing down his neck, not with his so-called friends who only stuck around for the drugs and money, and certainly not with the Pogues, who were a thorn in his side. But Y/N—she was different. She was the only thing in this world that could make Rafe pause, the only thing he couldn’t bring himself to destroy.
He was still reckless, still dangerous, still a ticking time bomb—but with Y/N, he was something else too. Soft, almost. Not in the way that made him weak, but in the way that made him even more dangerous. Because if anything ever happened to her, he would burn this island to the ground.
They were inseparable, always tangled up in each other, whether it was his arm slung over her shoulders at a party, his lips trailing down her neck when no one was looking, or the way she fit perfectly against him when he finally let himself rest.
Y/N would do anything for Rafe. And he’d do anything for her.
So when the Pogues pulled her aside one afternoon, she already knew there was no world in which she would betray Rafe Cameron.
They had found her alone near The Wreck, waiting for Rafe to pick her up. Pope was the first to speak. “Y/N, listen, we need your help.”
She raised an eyebrow, already uninterested. “With what?”
“Proving John B’s innocence,” Kie said.
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “You’re joking, right?”
They weren’t.
“Rafe killed Peterkin,” Pope said, low and serious. “We know it. And we know you know it too.”
“Sarah saw him,” Kie added. “We just need something—anything—that proves it wasn’t John B.”
“You don’t have to protect him,” JJ said, his tone a little different from the others. He wasn’t pleading with her, wasn’t trying to reason. He was taunting. “I mean, come on, Y/N, you think Rafe would do the same for you?”
That made her blood boil.
“You don’t know anything about me and Rafe,” she snapped.
“Then prove it,” JJ challenged. “Help us, and I’ll believe it.”
Y/N let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You actually think I’d turn on him? That I’d betray my Rafe for you?” She took a step closer, her voice venomous. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not afraid of Rafe. I love him. And if you think for a second that I’d help you take him down, you’re out of your goddamn minds.”
She left them standing there, stunned, and walked away without looking back.
Rafe was waiting for her in his truck, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other tapping against his knee impatiently. He relaxed the second he saw her, his sharp features softening, his whole body exhaling in relief.
“Where the hell were you?” he asked as she climbed in.
“Talking to the Pogues,” she said, her voice laced with irritation.
Instantly, Rafe’s expression darkened. “What?”
“They tried to get me to help them prove John B’s innocent.”
Rafe went still.
It was a terrifying kind of stillness, the kind that came before a storm. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.
“They what?” His voice was calm, but she knew him too well to be fooled.
“They think I’d turn on you,” she said, shaking her head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “That I’d help them prove you killed Peterkin.”
That was all it took.
Rafe let out a sharp, bitter laugh, one that sent chills down her spine. “That’s fucking hilarious,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “They actually thought you’d betray me?”
His laugh faded just as quickly as it came. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and that familiar rage flickered to life behind his blue eyes.
“They think they can talk to my girl,” he said, his voice dark and dangerous. “That they can turn you against me?”
She could see the storm brewing inside him, the way his fingers twitched like he was itching to grab something—someone. His knee bounced violently, and his breathing was slow, controlled, like he was trying not to explode.
Y/N reached over, placing her hand over his. “I shut them down,” she murmured. “They’re idiots if they ever thought I’d turn on you.”
Rafe exhaled through his nose, his knee stopping its frantic movement. He grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “They don’t get to talk to you. They don’t get to look at you. They don’t even get to fucking think about you.”
Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing against his jaw. “Then make sure they don’t,” she whispered.
Rafe turned his head, his lips crashing against hers in a bruising, desperate kiss. He kissed her like he was staking his claim, like he needed to feel her, taste her, to remind himself that she was here, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
When he pulled away, his eyes were still burning with fury.
“They’re gonna regret ever coming near you,” he muttered.
Y/N didn’t doubt it for a second.
—
The Boneyard was alive with the pulse of heavy bass and the crash of waves against the shore. Fires burned bright, illuminating the faces of Kooks and Pogues alike, their rivalries momentarily drowned in the haze of alcohol and summer heat. But that peace wouldn’t last.
Not tonight.
Because Rafe Cameron had a score to settle.
He stood at the top of the dunes, looking down at the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom. His jaw was clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Y/N stood beside him, her lips curled into a smirk, arms crossed casually over her chest. She knew what was about to happen—hell, she’d been waiting for it just as much as he had.
“You ready?” Rafe asked, voice low, eyes burning.
She turned to him, expression playful. “Always.”
Rafe smirked, but there was no humor behind it. Just something dark and volatile, barely contained. Then he was moving, striding down the dunes with the confidence of someone who owned this entire island.
Heads turned as he passed. Kooks raised their cups, cheering for their golden boy, oblivious to the rage simmering just beneath the surface. But the Pogues? They stiffened the second they saw him.
John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie were gathered near the fire, deep in conversation, but the second Rafe and Y/N approached, they all fell silent.
JJ was the first to react, straightening up and rolling his shoulders back like he was ready for a fight. “Oh, look,” he drawled, taking a swig from his beer. “Kook Prince and his loyal queen.”
Y/N scoffed, but Rafe barely acknowledged the remark. His eyes were locked on them, sharp and unrelenting.
“Which one of you dumbasses thought it was a good idea to talk to my girl?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
John B tensed. Kie shifted uncomfortably. Pope kept his mouth shut.
JJ, of course, grinned. “You mean about you, uh, murdering someone?”
Rafe laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “That’s funny,” he said, tilting his head. “You know what else is funny? Thinking Y/N would ever betray me.”
JJ’s smirk faltered for just a second before he masked it with bravado. “I don’t know, man. She seems smart enough to know when she’s on the losing side.”
Y/N let out a laugh, stepping closer, brushing against Rafe’s side. “You’re delusional if you think there’s any world in which I’d choose you over Rafe,” she said. “I mean, come on, JJ. Are you really that desperate?”
JJ’s jaw clenched, but before he could say anything, Rafe took another step forward, closing the distance.
“You don’t talk to my girl,” he said, voice dropping to something low and dangerous. “You don’t look at my girl. You don’t even fucking think about her. Understand?”
JJ, never one to back down, scoffed. “Or what?”
Rafe’s eyes darkened, his smirk returning, but this time it was cold, calculated. “You don’t ‘wanna find out.”
There was a pause, thick with tension.
JJ met Rafe’s stare head-on, but for the first time, there was something hesitant in his gaze.
Rafe had always been unhinged. Dangerous. But this? This wasn’t just some Kook/Pogue rivalry. This was personal.
And when it came to Y/N, there was no line Rafe wouldn’t cross.
John B finally spoke, stepping between them. “We don’t want any trouble.”
Rafe let out a short, mocking laugh. “Yeah? Then you should’ve kept your mouths shut.”
The Kooks were starting to notice now, whispers spreading, eyes darting toward the confrontation. It wouldn’t be long before the whole party knew.
“You think you’re untouchable,” JJ muttered, shaking his head.
Rafe smirked. “No. I know I am.”
Y/N chuckled beside him, slipping her hand into his. “You should’ve known better,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe isn’t someone you fuck with. And neither am I.”
JJ’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. Not when it was so obvious that they had lost whatever game they thought they were playing.
Rafe leaned in, voice just loud enough for the Pogues to hear. “This was your one warning. Next time? I won’t be so nice.”
And with that, he turned, dragging Y/N with him as they walked away, leaving the Pogues standing there, seething.
The night continued around them, the music blaring, the drinks flowing—but everyone knew.
Rafe Cameron had made his point.
Loud and fucking clear.
(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
i loved this request sm, thank you anon and i hope it’s what you asked for !! <3 i’ve had this a couple request in the drafts, just editing them so i can start posting them, so there might be a couple more posts tonight :)
as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) i’m gonna try my best to keep replying to reblogs and comments, because genuinely i am SO insanely grateful for all the love you’ve all given me :’) i’ve gone up by 400 followers since december and i’m so insanely grateful for the love on my page and my works <3
pls keep requesting my loves !! request are still open and i’m working through them until i go away on wednesday <3
#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#drew starkey#rafe cameron#bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#outer banks#fluff#rafe cameron x reader#obx#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x yn#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader
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i just know lu would make sooo many dirty jokes while ur supposed to be having a sweet moment cuddling or something lol
you’d be leaning against his chest on the sofa watching TV, talking about anything. ‘what do you want for dinner tonight, do you want me to make it?’ he asks you. ‘we can just get Thai takeout if you want, get a bunch of stuff and share it between us?’ ‘yeah, we’ll do that, pull up the menu on your phone’ and then he whispers in your ear ‘your tits look so good in this top baby’ as he grips them in his big hands and u fall back further into his chest at the feeling and giggle: ‘luigi, mm’ and then his hands are softly caressing your torso up and down, continuing to talk like normal as if he didn’t just grab your tits out of nowhere and make ur panties damp
or you’ll be eating a banana or something that shape lolll and he’s sat there smirking at u, he’d say something that would nearly make u choke on your food: ‘not as good as my cock, no?’ - ‘luigi, shut up just let me eat this’
imagine lu with an academic gf who’s doing her phd and he’d make soooo many jokes - he keeps saying ‘u already have a phd, u get it for free inside you every night in this bed’
in the shower too :’) you’d have so many sweet, cosy showers just washing each other bc i think he’d love to shower with u as much as possible, and i can imagine him just making little comments: ‘i can see you staring at my cock baby’ he’d tease. ‘you had it in your mouth just last night, you want it again huh?’ ‘lu, shut up i swear, i need to get to work i can’t do this right now’ u roll your eyes playfully, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as u wrap yours around his neck, the two of you pressing soft kisses to each other’s neck and shoulders
cuddling completely entangled together and kissing each other’s faces softly during conversation - you’re discussing something about the night before. ‘lu i swear i told you about this literally last night, how do you not remember’ - ‘i don’t think you did baby there wasn’t much time you spent last night without my cock in your mouth’ - you gasp, taken aback looking at him, and you both start laughing. ‘baby, you’re ridiculous’ u giggle into his neck. ‘just telling the truth, bellissima’ he chuckles, and his deep voice dropping that word in italian on u so casually like that sends a rush of heat to your core that u have to ignore bc you’re so exhausted and just wanna lay in his arms
& imagine you’re spooning just talking about ur day and suddenly he just bucks his hips up into you and starts fake fucking you through your clothes, laughing as he does. u reach your arm back to push him back playfully: ‘luigi oh my god why do you always do that out of nowhere, stop it’ ur giggling as he pulls u tighter to him and peppers kisses along the side of your neck
i just think he’d fake fuck u so much because he’s so cocky w the phd jokes and size kink😖 even feeling him soft against u would turn u on so much bc he’s so big
and don’t get me started with how often he’d be smacking ur ass and grabbing it. he’d smack ur ass lightly out of nowhere and then knead it in his big hands >.< like while ur cleaning your room or making food he’ll come up behind u
and when ur sitting on his lap so comfy, turned to the side a lil because you’re tucked into his chest so your ass is facing upwards slightly and he has room to give it a light smack and just grab and knead it while u giggle and bury your head in his neck
also in bed if ur sleeping position is cuddling facing each other and u have one leg hooked over his thigh he’ll like hold u by your ass and gently squeeze it every so often. ‘mm, lu, you’re gonna make me horny, i need to go to sleep’ - ‘alright, baby, i just love touching on you’ he laughs softly, giving your ass another tight squeeze and a smack before moving his hand up to grip your waist. ‘love you baby, you can fuck me in the morning’ you whisper to him
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He’s a player 230
Requested Nam-gyu fluff~
Warnings: Death, cursing, mentions of: blood, bruising, and drug use.
Summary: Your boyfriend Thanos dies and Nam-gyu tries to give you his Cross necklace to remember him by, but what if you don’t want to remember him ?
P.S. The dog bread Shiba sounds very similar to the Korean curse word Shibal, that’s important for later in the story, okay enjoy💞
————
“…Player 230 eliminated.”
A shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open now as you sat up in your bed. Thanos was the last player announced dead as the men came back from the bathrooms.
You were trying to take a nap before dinner time and so now you don’t know if you were slowly drifting off to sleep and dreamed that they announced your boyfriend dead or if he was actually gone.
The men were yelling, cursing, and shoving each other. Trying to place the blame for what had happened in the men’s room. You spotted Nam-gyu in the midst of it, dazed and lost. There was specks of blood splattered on his face and jacket.
What really caught your attention was Myung-gi, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was bruised with colors of black and blue with a coating of blood covering almost half his face.
“Hey y/n.”
You gasped, flinching away from the man beside you, “Oh, fuck, Nam-gyu hey-“ You placed your hand over your chest, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
He tried holding back his smirk, “My bad, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine, what’s up ?”
“Do you mind if I-?” He gestured to the end of your bed and you gave him a small smile, nodding your head.
He sat down on the bed and exhaled, “I’m sure you heared already…”
You held your breath and when he didn’t saying anything else you finished for him.
“…about Thanos ?” You said.
He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on your bed, “Yeah.”
“What happened ?”
He closed his eyes and used two of his fingers to rub his eyes.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, if it’s too hard- the last thing I want is for you to cry…”
He ran his hand down his face, “I couldn’t cry even if I wanted too.” He grumbled, letting out a fake chuckle, “I’m way too fucking high right now.”
“Oh ok… um- what did you want to talk to me about then ?”
He raised his eyebrows, “Right.” Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a cross shaped pendant. It was attached to a necklace that was around his neck.
He took it off handing it to you, “I think you should have this.”
You starred at the cross in your hand tracing the outline with your finger.
Nam-gyu bit his lip nervously, “I figured since you are the only person who knew him outside of this place and like really knew him as a person, not as a fan, you should be the one to keep it.”
You popped open the cross and was not surprised to see a different assortment of pills in it. “This is fucked up.”
His head snapped up, “Huh ?”
“Putting narcotics in a peice that is supposed to symbolize our lord and savior, that’s kind of fucked up, no ?”
He blinked a couple of times, not really sure what to say.
“I guess we know where he’s currently resting, not that I’m surprised.”
Nam-gyu just starred at you, half smiling, not sure if your way of coping was to joke around or if you were being serious. You closed the pendant with a snap and tossed the necklace back to him, one of his hands catching it against his chest.
“Thanks, but I don’t want it.”
He looked down at the cross in his hands, “Wouldn’t you want something to remember your friend by ?”
Your eyes narrowed at him, “Friend ?”
Now Nam-gyu was beyond confused, “Yeah… Thanos said you guys dated in college but broke up and have remained good friends ever since.”
You let out a humorless chuckle, “That’s what he told you ?”
“No, we didn’t really talk about anything when we were together, besides-“ He held up the cross, shaking it, making the pills rattle inside. “I overheard him tell Se-mi that one time.” He said placing the necklace around his neck once again.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, well it started off as a giggle and turned into you full out laughing like a maniac. Nam-guy’s eyes shifted from left to right, like at any minute a camera crew would come out of nowhere and say, “You’ve just got pranked.”
“Am I missing something ??” Nam-gyu asked, “Were you guys not friends ?”
You stopped laughing, “No, he was my fucking boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I just said that, in college-“
“No. Ugh.” You pinched your nose bridge, “Nam-gyu, we’ve been dating since college, we never broke up. Well I guess now we are… until death do you part right ?”
Nam-gyu’s eyebrows furrowed together as he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “That doesn’t make any sense… he’s been flirting with every girl since he’s got here. Also why would he tell Se-mi that-“
You interrupted him, “-Because he’s a fucking asshole, that why.”
“Wait. If you guys have been dating since college, which would be majority of his rap career, how come I’ve never heard of you ? Or seen you and Thanos together in pictures ?”
You looked down at your hands as you picked at your fingernails, “Because his label thought it wouldn’t be right for his branding… especially since I’m not famous, I’m just a random person.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
“So you were his secret girlfriend ?”
You shook your head, “I wouldn’t phrase it that way. Everyone knew: my family, his family, our friends… it was just hidden from the public.”
He nodded his head, “And he just started acting like this when you guys got in here, why ?”
You snorted, “Fuck no. Ever since his label told him he couldn’t publicly have a girlfriend, he’s been acting like that; but I learned rather quickly that it wasn’t just an act.”
Nam-gyu’s mouth was agape, “He cheated on you ?”
You shrugged your shoulders, trying to be non-chalant about it. This asshole already pissed you off when he was alive, now that he’s dead you were no longer going to give him that power over you again.
“I’m not sure. I never actually caught him in the act, but he’d come home smelling of perfume and his lips would shine of lip gloss.” You shook your head, looking up, “He didn’t even wear fucking chapstick that lying bastard.”
“That sounds really complicated.”
You sighed, “Yeah.”
He placed his hand on top of yours, which was resting on your leg in front of you. “I know you most likely don’t want to hear this, because I know I didn’t, but I’m sorry that happened to you and you deserve better.”
You looked at his hand then made eye contact with him. “I’m sorry- I was just trying to comfort- I didn’t mean-“ He pulled his hand away but you reached for it and held it in yours.
“It’s fine.” You assured him, “You’ve been cheated on ?”
“Yeah.” He bit his lip, “It’s uh- not the best feeling in the world.” He swallowed, “It led me down a really dark path.”
Using his free hand he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a popped vain, “There’s other factors that played into it and I’m not blaming her at all, it’s my doing, but I’m still trying to find the old me again.”
Your eyes were transfixed on the huge black/blue scar located on the inside of his arm. You pursed your lips as you felt your eyes gloss over.
You hated Thanos for treating you like a groupie instead of a girlfriend. You guys would constantly argue and yell at each other. Especially when he’d come back with unexplained scratches on his back and red marks on his neck you would even slap him, shove him, do anything to take your anger out on him and show him how much he was hurting you on the inside.
Nam-gyu didn’t do any of that, he internalized her wrong doing as something he did wrong. He took his anger out on himself and for that you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to comfort and be there for him.
“Nam-gyu…” You whispered.
He pulled down his sleeve, “It’s fine, that was a couple of years ago.” You looked into his eyes, they were enlarged to the point you couldn’t tell where his pupil started and his iris ended.
“You’re high right now, aren’t you ?”
He licked his lips, looking off to the side, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I had mentioned that earlier.”
You held his hand with both of yours now, “You can’t swallow poison and expect the other person to die.”
“What if it’s not the other person I’m trying to kill ?”
You looked at him with concern in your eyes, “Don’t talk like that.”
“Dinner is now being served.” The loud speaker spoke, “Please line up to receive your meal.”
You got up from the bed, still holding on to his hand with one of yours. “C’mon.”
He slipped his hand away, slouching more into your bed, “I’m not hungry right now.”
Your concern only increased, “That’s just the drugs talking.”
He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding eye contact with you. “I’m also a skinny guy, I don’t eat a lot of food.”
“Even if you’re not hungry you should still eat.” You calmly replied, “They only feed us three times a day and the portion sizes are getting smaller and smaller each day. You’ll need your strength, plus you won’t be able to eat anything for another twelve hours after this.”
You outstretched your hand, he nodded before taking your hand and standing up. You walked side by side down the stairs and lined up behind everyone else. Once you both got your food, you headed back towards your bed.
Nam-gyu took a bite of his food and then cleared his throat, “Let’s talk about something light while we eat.”
You nodded, “Okay. You start us off.”
He pointed his fork at you, “What are you going to do with your share of the money ?”
The end of your fork rested on your lips as you pondered your answer, “I’m going to get a dog.”
He grinned, wiping away food from his mouth, “A dog ? What breed ?”
“Hmm, that’s a good question… I’ll probably get a Shiba and name it Thanos, you know to honor him.” You smiled sarcastically.
It took Nam-gyu a second to realize the joke you just said but once he did he spit some of his food out laughing.
“Eww.” You giggled, “You almost got some on me.” You playfully told him, wiping the bits of food off your bed.
“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to say something like that- but don’t get me wrong it was funny.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” You shrugged your shoulders, “I probably shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
You tilted your head, “Okay, what about you ?” You asked.
He made eye contact with you for a second before quickly looking back at his food, a tint of blush on his cheeks. “At first I was thinking of buying myself a new gaming console, I have the PS3.” He rolled his eyes while chewing his food, “I’ve had it for years, the graphics suck ass, I need a new one.”
You giggled, “So what are you thinking now ?”
“Mmm, I’ll probably switch over completely and get the Xbox One.”
You shook your head, “No I mean, you said at first that’s what you wanted. What do you want now ?”
“Oh.” The blush on his cheeks deepened, “There’s this restaurant in the city I’ve always wanted to try, it’s not that I couldn’t afford it, I just never had anyone to go with.”
He scratched the back of his head, “Would you by chance want to go with me ?”
Your heart beat sped up a bit, “Like a date ?”
You guys made eye contact, “I mean that’s up to you, we could just go as friends if-“
“It’s a date.” You beamed.
He smiled while biting his lip, “Cool.”
You nodded your head, “Cool.” You couldn’t suppress the smile that formed on your lips.
#player 124 x reader#nam gyu x reader#player 124 fluff#nam gyu fluff#thanos angst#t.o.p#kpop#squid game#season 2#netflix#thanos x y/n#thanos x you#thanos x fem! reader#thanos x reader#thanos x fork#player 320#player 124 x y/n#player 124 x you#player 124 angst#player 124 x fem! reader#player 124 imagine#player 124#nam gyu x fem! reader#nam gyu x y/n#nam gyu angst#nam gyu x you#nam gyu imagine#nam gyu fanfic#nam gyu#se mi
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Amongst Demigods
Between The Gods And The Unknown
f1 x reader
or... the one where you find home one a new place
word count : 780
warning : none, english is not my first language!!!
🏛️🏎️
you stepped into the clearing, camp half-blood stretching out before you like a world entirely separate from everything you’d known. the cabins were scattered around in a horseshoe shape, each distinct in design, representing the different gods of olympus. as a new arrival, though, your place was in the hermes cabin - at least until you were claimed by your godly parent.
the hermes cabin was crowded, filled with unclaimed demigods just like you. the chaotic energy was almost overwhelming, but there was something comforting in the way everyone was thrown together, no one quite knowing where they belonged yet. you dropped your bag next to an empty bunk, taking a deep breath. this was your new reality, and you’d have to get used to it quickly.
the first day passed in a blur of introductions, camp orientation, and a somewhat chaotic lunch in the dining pavilion. you sat by yourself, unsure where to fit in among all the cabins and their clearly established groups. that changed quickly when a group of demigods approached your table, trays in hand, looking as if they’d been at camp for years.
“you must be new,” a boy with curly brown hair and a bright smile said as he slid into the seat across from you. “I’m lando, son of poseidon.”
his casual introduction made you blink in surprise. lando radiated an air of laid-back confidence, but something about him reminded you of the ocean - restless and ever-changing.
“nice to meet you,” you replied, offering a small smile. “I’m… well, unclaimed.”
“ah, don’t worry, happens to the best of us,” another boy said, dropping into the seat next to lando. his features were sharp, his hair tousled like he’d been in the sun all day. “I’m charles, son of apollo.”
lando and charles introduced you to the others at the table. carlos, son of hephaestus, had a calm and sturdy demeanor, much like what his father was known for. oscar, son of athena, was quiet but sharp, clearly always thinking two steps ahead. george, son of hermes and counselor of the hermes cabin, gave you a warm smile, recognising you from earlier. he made sure you felt welcome, cracking jokes and assuring you that not being claimed yet didn’t make you any less of a demigod.
“if you ever need help with anything, just ask. we’ve all been there,” george said, his grin easygoing as he took a bite of his sandwich. “besides, we hermes kids take care of our own.”
“thanks,” you said, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a little.
over the next few days, you started to settle into the rhythm of camp life. mornings were filled with combat training and lessons on ancient greek history. afternoons were for archery practice, where charles proved he was as good a shot as his father, and sparring sessions, where daniel, son of ares, always managed to turn every fight into a competition. max, the son of artemis, was surprisingly quiet, preferring to stick to the woods, but when he was around, you noticed he had an air of focus and intensity that set him apart from the others.
you often found yourself hanging out with lando and george between lessons. lando had an infectious energy, always dragging you into some adventure or convincing you to race him by the lake. george, on the other hand, was the one who kept things organized, making sure no one got into too much trouble - though with hermes as his father, that wasn’t always an easy task.
“you’ll get used to the chaos,” lando said one afternoon as the two of you sat by the campfire. “it’s kind of what camp is all about.”
as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn into the camp’s tightly-knit group of demigods. there was lewis, son of zeus, who seemed to command attention without even trying, and ollie, son of hestia, who had a quiet warmth about him, always making sure everyone felt included. kimi, the son of demeter, was constantly tending to the camp’s gardens, while lance, son of hera, had an air of calm and authority that balanced the group. yuki, son of hecate, often practiced spells on the sidelines, a grin on his face as he perfected his craft. alex, son of asclepius, was always offering healing tips after sparring matches, and franco, son of eros, had a way of charming everyone he spoke to.
every night, as you returned to the crowded hermes cabin, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your place. being unclaimed wasn’t so bad when you had friends like these.
————————————————————————————
@briefkittenearthquake @colpenter
a/n : finally got to writing this!! turned out good in my opinion, stay tuned for the next parts!!
#folkwhoreberry#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russell x reader#kimi antonelli x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#max verstappen x reader#ollie bearman x reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#alex albon x reader#franco colapinto x reader#lance stroll x reader#x reader#f1/pjo!au⭐️
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Aching Love
Pairing: Henry Winter x Fem!Reader
Summary: In an all-consuming love, Henry and you are trapped in a cycle of yearning and obsession, knowing you're bad for each other but unable to break free, while the rest of your friends watch helplessly as your bond deepens into something both devastating and inevitable.
a/n: i believe that if henry were to love, it would be tragically beautiful, he would be obsessed and consumed and see absolutely nothing wrong with it
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
The first time Francis says it, it’s almost a joke.
"You two are like a car crash I can’t look away from."
It’s late, too late, and you and Henry are tucked into a corner of his dimly lit apartment, whiskey glasses resting half-empty between you. His fingers are curled loosely around his cigarette, the smoke curling in the air between you, and your hand is on his knee, idly tracing the fabric of his trousers. It’s not even a conscious touch—it’s a habit, like the way you breathe, like the way you watch him when he isn’t looking.
Francis is drunk enough that his words are slurred, but not so drunk that he doesn’t mean them. His gaze flickers between the two of you, then he shakes his head and exhales a sigh, amused and exasperated all at once.
"You do know you’re going to destroy each other, right?"
You should deny it. Maybe once, a long time ago, you would have. But now, you just glance at Henry, and his eyes meet yours, and something unspoken tightens between you like a noose.
"Probably," Henry says, taking a slow sip of his drink.
Neither of you seem particularly concerned about it.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐥
It starts as a mistake.
Or maybe, it starts long before that.
A glance too long, a touch that lingers, the way you always seem to find yourselves alone together, even when you weren’t supposed to be.
The first time Henry kisses you, it’s not gentle.
It’s months after Bunny’s death, the weight of everything pressing into your ribs like something you cannot remove. You’re standing outside the house, the night thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, and your hands are shaking from something you can’t name.
"You’re unraveling," Henry says, voice low, but not unkind.
"So are you," you murmur.
There’s a beat. A hesitation.
Then—
His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your chin up just slightly, and suddenly you are too close, too much, too desperate.
It isn’t sweet.
It’s ruinous.
It’s the kind of kiss that steals the air from your lungs, that presses into the hollow places of you, that makes you realize, suddenly and terribly, that there is no going back from this. His hands are cold, his fingers threading through your hair, his grip tight, like if he lets go, you’ll slip through his fingers.
The thought of stopping never crosses your mind.
The thought of ever stopping doesn’t even exist.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐡
You fight like you love. Violently. Desperately.
"You left with him," Henry says one night, voice edged with something darker.
You roll your eyes, tossing your coat over the back of a chair. "So what?"
Henry is across the room, standing near the fireplace, one hand braced against the mantle. His grip is so tight his knuckles have gone white. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks.
"You know why."
"Do I?"
The moment stretches, taut and thin. Then—
Henry crosses the room in three measured steps. His hand lands on the back of the chair, bracketing you in place before you can move away.
"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, voice low.
"Like what?"
"Making me say it."
Your heartbeat slams against your ribs. His breath is warm against your cheek, his presence swallowing all the air in the room.
"Say it, then."
For a long, stretched-out moment, he doesn’t. Then—
"I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else."
The words settle between you like something tangible, something sharp enough to cut.
You don’t move.
"Neither can I," you admit.
The words taste like surrender.
And when Henry kisses you, slow and punishing, it doesn’t feel like forgiveness. It feels like destruction.
And you welcome it.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫
The others start to notice before you do.
One night, Camilla drapes herself across the couch, watching you and Henry like animals in a cage. "You two are going to drive each other insane," she says, her voice a little too casual.
Francis snorts, flicking ash from his cigarette. "I’d say that ship has sailed."
Charles frowns, shifting uncomfortably. "It’s not normal."
Camilla sips her wine, eyes narrowing slightly. "It’s like they think they’ll die if they’re apart."
Richard doesn’t say anything, but his silence is weighted.
You ignore them. Henry does too.
But later that night, when the party has died down and the world has quieted, you find yourself sitting on the floor of Henry’s apartment, knees drawn to your chest. The weight of it all presses into you, settling heavy in your chest.
"Are we really that bad?" you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.
Henry is leaning against the wall, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He’s studying you like a problem he can’t solve.
"Does it matter?" he asks, his voice quiet, detached.
You don’t answer.
Later, when he pulls you close, when your hands tangle in his shirt and his breath is warm against your temple, the truth is painfully clear—you almost laugh. Of course it doesn’t matter.
The next day, the others start to notice again.
Richard, watching you more closely than usual, frowns. "You’re different," he says, his voice laced with something that sounds almost like concern. "You never used to—"
He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to.
"It’s like you’re not real unless he’s in the room," he adds, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
You don’t answer. Because he’s right.
Camilla is the first to try to talk to Henry. She cornered him the next morning, arms crossed and gaze sharp. "You know this isn’t healthy," she says, her voice more serious than usual.
Henry doesn’t even blink. He flicks the ashes from his cigarette and exhales slowly. "I don’t care."
She studies him for a long moment, then exhales sharply, frustration lining her features. "Do you love her?"
Henry looks at her like she has asked him the most foolish question in the world, as if he could never answer it in any way other than the truth.
"What else would you call this?"
Camilla doesn’t answer.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞
You try to leave. Once.
It lasts four days.
Four days of silence.
Four days of feeling like you are choking on the absence of something vital.
Then—
A knock at your door.
And Henry is there.
His tie is loose, his hair unkempt, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes—
"I can’t," he says.
And you know exactly what he means.
Because neither can you.
And suddenly, none of it matters—not the warnings, not the whispered conversations, not the worry in their eyes.
Nothing matters except this.
You step aside.
He walks in.
And the door closes behind him.
𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
One night, after everything has unraveled, you ask Henry if he ever regrets it.
"Regret what?" he asks, watching you through the candlelight.
"This," you say. "Us."
He studies you for a long moment. Then, voice steady—
"I’d rather burn with you than fade without you."
You don’t answer.
Because you already know it’s true.
Because obsession is not love.
But love was never what you wanted.
And when Henry kisses you, slow and devastating, it feels like the end of the world.
And neither of you care.
Because if it is—
Then at least, you’re ending together.
#henry winter#henry winter x reader#henry marchbanks winter#tsh fanfic#the secret history#donna tartt#camilla macaulay#charles macaulay#francis abernathy#richard papen#melancholyfool
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TANGLED THREADS [Noah Sebastian x fem!reader, Nick Ruffilo x fem!reader]
COLLEGE!AU
CHAPTER TWO: TAKING THE LEAD SUMMARY: Nick knows. And he won’t let it slide. PAIRING: Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader; mentions of Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ [unprotected p in v, degradation, rough sex, …], no mentions of reader’s name, angst, reader is toxic, toxic dynamics, nick is a meanie but he kinda is right, mentions of nick and reader thinking about noah during intercourse, swearing, its not entirely proofread (ill do it eventually, pinky promise …) WORD COUNT: 2.2K A/N:Holy hell. My brain hurts after writing this. Nick finally made a proper appearance!!! I don’t even know what to say. There is one part left, but don’t ask me when it will come out. Hope you enjoy! Bye bye. READ PART ONE HERE.
You knew it was stupid. You knew you were incredibly stupid for doing what you were doing these past few weeks. You were so deep in this tragedy that the thought of calling your mom had slipped your mind for a reasonable amount of time, but you quickly realized that you were not quite ready to tell your mom that you had slept with two guys in the span of four weeks who, to make matters worse, were also best friends.
You wanted nothing more than to leave what had happened behind you, but for some reason you kept coming back to that one particular moment. Your thoughts revolved around that one night that changed everything. Nick had called you that night to catch up on your day, and you had asked him outright if he was in love with you. You wanted to be the bigger person, wanted to show Noah that you were really just casual with Nick, but when he did not answer right away, you felt something crack inside of you. You liked Nick. Maybe a little too much for your own good.
On the other hand, you really didn't know where to put Noah. You had noticed the way he looked at you before something had even happened between you. You saw how he always seemed a little too close to be just friendly with you. You had noticed the way he looked at you when you were with Nick, and somehow you understood how he felt.
It must have felt similar to the first time you saw him and Nick in that bar. They felt like this unbreakable team. Like a duo that really cared and loved each other no matter what. You had sworn to yourself that you would not try to challenge their bond, but when Nick kissed you just a few days later, you knew it was too late. You were already far more invested than you should have been.
You liked to think of yourself as rational and collected, but you really couldn’t understand the actions you had participated in, these past few weeks. You had sworn to keep your distance, even skipping classes to avoid Noah, but somehow he kept slipping right back into your life. Or literally… into you.
Not once had the two of you talked about Nick as if his name was a curse. But you soon realized that you were stupid to think that Nick would just let it go.
The air in your room was tense as Nick stormed in angrily. There had been weeks of silence and tension since your breakup, but this night would be different.
You sat on the bed, your legs crossed and your eyes fixed on the papers you had to finish soon. You knew exactly why he was here, but you weren't quite ready to face it.
"Please tell me you're joking." Nick hissed, his eyes glittering with anger.
"What?" You asked, your eyes still glued to the screen. Then he threw something at you. You jumped at the impact before examining the piece of cloth. A small piece of black lace with a little heart on the waistband. It was your panties. You vividly remembered the last time you had worn them. You had stood outside Noah's room that night like a desperate little shit.
Your eyes darted to Nick's angry face and back to the garment. Inside you were screaming, but there was also this intense anger bubbling up inside you.
"Could you explain to me why you think it is necessary to snoop through people's things and then barge into my room like that? I have things to do." You exclaimed as calmly as possible while throwing your panties to the floor.
"You know exactly why I'm here. You slept with him, didn't you?" It wasn't really a question, but an accusation that dripped from his lips like poison.
"So, what? The last time I checked, we weren't serious or exclusive." You answered him, the annoyance you felt lacing your words. It still stung. Thinking about how he had gotten to you and how pathetic you were to think he really wanted a real relationship with you. With Noah, things seemed easier. You knew something was there, but neither of you felt the need to talk about it, and you liked it that way.
"He's my best friend, for fuck sake." He said, his eyes cold and distant. If you weren't so sure that this had to do with his ego being bruised, you might have misinterpreted it as some kind of vulnerability.
He took two big steps to stand in front of your bed and leaned down slightly, causing you to close your laptop. "You knew it was wrong. You knew how he felt about you."
You quickly got up from your bed and looked him in the eyes with a fake smile. "And now? It's not like it stopped you from fucking me anyway, knowing damn well how he felt."
Nick clenched his jaw as he studied your face. Neither of you dared look away.
"To be honest, it sounds to me like you are jealous that he actually had the courage to show me how he felt." You almost spat the words in his face.
His gaze darkened, but that only made you ramble on. "Or maybe you're angry that he can get me off a lot faster than you can."
"You're a fucking whore, you know that?" He whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't flinch at his words, but leaned forward, his warmth radiating off your body. "And you're a fucking hypocrite, Ruffilo."
His eyes traveled to your lips for such a brief moment that you almost missed it. Anger was written all over his face, but there was something else you noticed that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise.
"Wait." You murmured, a small and mocking grin finding its place on your features. "This shit turns you on, doesn't it?"
Nick didn't say anything, but didn't dare to move away from you either, while you started to snicker bitterly. "You're seriously calling me a whore when you get all aroused at the thought of Noah and me together? "You're pathetic."
Nick was silent, breathing heavily through his nose as he stared down at you with such intensity that you could almost feel the weight of his eyes as they bore into you. His hands were clenched into fists and before you knew it, he had grabbed your wrist and was pushing you against the wall next to your bed.
“Noah just doesn’t know how to deal with your fucking attitude.” Nick hissed, bringing you so close that your lips almost touched. You met his eyes, the warmth spreading through your body, while your heart still leaped with pride.
"Noah has a bigger dick than you." You answered him, knowing it was childish, but you wouldn't let it go.
"Yeah, that's a lie." He breathed. "Maybe you need a reminder."
"Noah has a bigger dick than you." You answered him, knowing it was childish, but you wouldn't let it go.
"Yeah, that's a lie." He breathed. "Maybe you need a reminder."
With a quick move, he had turned you around. You leaned your hands against the wall for support as you felt Nick's breath against your neck. You tried to stifle a moan as his hand traveled over the curve of your body, but failed miserably. You cursed yourself internally for wearing only your thinnest shorts, making it harder and harder to ignore his touch against your lower abdomen.
“You still wanna tell me about Noah?” He asked as his hand slipped through the waistband of your shorts, teasing you.
“As if you wouldn’t like it.” You tried to say as confident as possible, while his hand slipped into your panties.
“Aw, look at you. You’re so invested in Noah that you’re already soaking wet for me and I didn’t do shit.” He mocked you as his finger teasingly flicked over your clit. A stuttering breath escaped your mouth.
“Fuck you.” You hissed, but you also weren’t thinking about stopping him in the slightest.
“Don’t be like that, princess. We both know you love this.” He snarled in your ear before retrieving his hand, causing you to shiver. You were about to push away from the wall, when you heard him hiss: “Don’t you dare.”
It merely took seconds for him to get you out of your shorts and also get rid of his pants. He kicked your feet further apart, one hand placed on your waist, the other lining up his hard dick at your entrance. You felt precum leak onto your leg, causing you to suppress another moan and you felt how you arch your back in his direction, without even realizing it.
“Look at you. All of the sudden, all desperate for my cock.” He said, as he slowly pushed inside of you. “You can brag about Noah all you want, he still can’t fuck you like I can.” With that he bottomed out, groaning quietly.
You clenched around him. Of course, he was right. But you would rather run into an open fire than admit that to him. You bit down on your lip when he started to move, his pace immediately as brutal as his emotions.
You wanted to say something. You desperately wanted to put him into his place, but you were too busy trying to lower the pleas that left your mouth, while your pussy throbbed with the burning need to come.
You gasped for air, fighting to speak up under the intense pressure of his cock, but nothing besides whimpers came out.
“I see why Noah couldn’t resist you. I think we both like it a little too much to see you fall apart like this.” Nick tried to hiss, but his words came out as a moan. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to moan out his name, as his right hand dropped from your waist onto your swollen clit.
“You sound like the desperate little slut you are.” Nick mocked you as heavy breaths left your mouth. You sputtered, one of your hands leaving the wall to grasp onto his wrist as if it would save you from falling apart.
“Tell me… Who do you think makes you come harder?” Nick whispered in your ear and your mind betrayed you. For a split second you thought about the two of them together. You wondered if they would try to compete against each other. You remembered how Noah’s tongue felt against your clit and with what precision he carried out his acts in comparison to Nick.
The image alone of Nick and Noah sent you flying over the edge. “Nick - I…” you stuttered, your voice strained. “I’m gonna…”
“Come on.” He almost ordered, his finger flicking over your clit in fast motions while he hammered into you. “Come on my dick just like you did on his.”
You let out a sharp cry as your head hit the wall, thighs shaking violently as Nick’s hips went on in his brutal pace. You tensed up, your vision becoming blurry as you moaned out his name in a repeating and pleading manner. Nick, in the meantime, didn’t stop, fucking into you in overstimulating manner.
You felt how his nails dug into your hips, causing you to gasp for air immediately. It felt like something was missing to tip him over, when an idea shot in your head.
“The night…” You breathed out. “when he first fucked me, I was wearing your Limp Bizkit hoodie.” Your voice was so hoarse and quiet, you first weren’t sure if he heard you, but all of the sudden, he let out a groan.
“F-... Fuck you.” He cried out, his hips stuttering ever so slightly, while his grip on your hips became bruising. Without another warning he spilled into you so violently, you could feel each hot splash painting the walls of your pussy.
With a deep breath, he leaned against your back, his head resting on your shoulder.
It took the two of you a few long minutes, before anyone dared to move or talk. You were sure if he suddenly decided to move, you would simply collapse to the ground.
“You know, Noah would-...” You wanted to annoy him even more, but he quickly cut you off. “I swear to god, if you say his name one more time.”
Something in his tone had changed though. He wasn’t as angry anymore as he used to be. If you had heard right, he even let out a small snicker.
It took another minute, before Nick slowly pulled out of you, causing you to take a deep breath. You felt how his cum slowly started dripping down your thighs, but you couldn’t care less.
You silently cleaned up and got dressed again, before facing each other.
“Noah told me, by the way.” Nick confessed, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “He did?”
“Yeah, and we both think the three of us have something to talk through.” Nick then exclaimed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. You started to pick the skin on your index finger, not knowing what was about to come, but you slowly began to nod.
“Text us when you’re ready.”
That was the last thing Nick said, before stepping out of your dorm without looking back.
There was no way you could ignore that now.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens rpf#noah sebastian smut#nick ruffilo x reader#nick ruffilo fanfiction#nick ruffilo smut#collapsedglasshouseswrites
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We Listen and We Don’t Judge
Pairings: Nico Hischier x OC
Warnings: Spoilers for That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice but just a lot of fluff.
Summary: You are a viral booktoker and after seeing the we listen and we don’t judge trend with couples, you put your own twist.
—————————————————————————
It’s not a joke that you are mildly addicted to TikTok. After all, by day, you worked for the New Jersey Devils as a social media girl but by night, you are one of the most viral booktokers on BookTok.
Currently you were doomscrolling on TikTok, waiting for your boyfriend, Nico, to come home from hanging at Jack’s and Luke’s place.
You suddenly come across a video of a couple doing the We Listen and Don’t Judge trend which you weren’t that completely unaware of because you had seen it on your for you page for the last few days.
“We listen and we don’t judge.” The couple both said before the woman started to talk.
“I sometimes don’t wash our fruit because I feel lazy.” She said, trying not to laugh.
The man burst into laughter. “Jesus we’re gonna get worms! We probably have worms in our bodies!”
“Well we listen and we don’t judge!” She clapped back and you began to laugh.
After about three minutes of watching that video, an idea popped in your head. You walked to your massive bookshelf that Nico assembled for you for Christmas last year and got out your copies of That Sik Luv, King of Wrath, King of Sloth, God of Wrath, and God of Malice from your shelf before walking back to the living room.
As soon as you walked back, you saw Nico walk in, taking his shoes and beanie off.
“Hey Schatz.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, giving you a kiss.
You pulled away to greet him back, Nico pouting a bit. “Hey baby. How was the hangout at Jack’s and Luke’s place.”
“Same old same old.” He said, his Swiss German accent being prominent.
You chuckled. “Why don’t you get changed.”
“Okay.” He gives you a quick kiss before walking into your shared bedroom before walking out in grey sweatpants and a devils hoodie.
“Hey Nico?”
“Yeah?” He asks.
“You love me right?”
“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked and you look at him gobsmacked.
“Okay no. I’m not breaking up with you-“
“Thank god.”
“I was literally gonna ask if you wanted to be in a TikTok baby.” You say.
Nico has been your biggest supporter and even though it was a mutual decision to keep your love life private, along with the occasional post of each other on your birthdays, anniversaries, and reposting posts of you guys in them.
“Oh okay. What TikTok?”
He plops down on the floor and looks at the pile of books on the coffee table. “What TikTok is it?”
You get your phone and open TikTok, going to make a new video, propping your phone on the little fake bonsai tree.
“Okay so we’re gonna do the we listen and we don’t judge trend except it’s with the books I read last month.” You say to your phone before stopping the recording.
“I say we listen and we don’t judge and tell you something about the book.” I explain.
“So I sit and look pretty?”
“Pretty much.” I answer.
I get out the first book, That Sik Luv, from the pile before clicking the button to record.
“We listen and we don’t judge,” you say, trying so hard not to laugh. “In this book, she’s in a religious cult, she doesn’t know that she is. Either way, the church that runs their town are trying to kill her so they hire this mercenary dude who becomes obsessed with her and stalks her and shows just how corrupt the church is. So one day, when she has to go to confession and he’s waiting for her in where she’s supposed to sit and they get their freak on when she’s giving her confession to the deacon and when he pulls back to curtain to pew pew her, he acts quickly and pew pews the deacon and they continue to get their freak on in front of the deacon’s now dead body.”
Nico mulls over what you said before saying, “I would read this book Schatzi.”
“What?!” You look at him horrified. “Like you’re not playing with me are you?”
“I mean I would skip over these kinda scenes but it seems interesting.”
“Oh my lord.” You muttered before grabbing King of Wrath.
“We listen and we don’t judge,” you said, forming her thoughts. “So in this book, both the characters are in an arranged marriage situation for reasons I can’t say. Anyway, one thing leads to another and he’s,” you mime fingering to him and he raises his eyebrows, “her and calls him an asshole and he replies with ‘I’m an asshole, yet youre dripping for me.’”
“Is this what you’re reading when your jaw is dropped?” He asks.
“Well like, you signed up for this.” You say.
“I love you too much.” He said, pulling you into him.
“I love you too.” You say and you grab King of Sloth.
“We listen and we don’t judge. So for context, her ex cheated on her-“
“He’s a dead man.” Nico fumes, his Swiss German accent becoming even more prominent.
“If you’ll let me finish.” You say, trying not to laugh at his outburst but you crack a smile. “Anyway, because of that, she has trust issues and when she’s telling him, so the mmc, her trust issues, instead of reassuring her, he sits her on her desk and goes to town with his mouth on her. He then proceeds to bend her over and goes to town on her and he puts duct tape over her mouth because she’s apparently loud.”
A beat of silence passes before Nico says, “If your ex cheated on you and you said that, I’d do the same.”
You whack the book on his head. “No you won’t.” You reply, both of you laughing.
“What, I need to remind him what he missed out on.” He responds chalantly.
You roll your eyes before grabbingGod of Wrath.
“We listen and we don’t judge. So in the first chapter, she wants to kill herself because her best friend killed himself and she on the edge of the cliff and she jumps, but then the mmc grabs onto her and he said that the only way he can save her life is if she performs a certain sexual act down there.”
“Like what do you mean?”
“He’s holding on to her and he’s like oh the only way I will save you if you do this certain sexual act down there for me.”
“And she does.”
“Well yeah. If we were in this exact situation, I’d do it because I value my life.” You respond.
“Okay true.” He says.
You get out your last book, God of Wrath, trying not to laugh.
“We listen and we don’t judge. In this book, she’s walking home at night with her headphones in and these two creeps are like following her but then, the mmc, who was stalking her, bears the guys up because in his eyes, he’s the only one that allowed to stalk her.”
“Oh.” He says. “That’s kinda stupid though.”
“What is?” You ask.
“Walking alone at night with headphones in. Like does she not have any sense?”
You burst into laughter at his words. “Literally the mmc asked her the exact question and it is pretty stupid.” You look at your phone before saying, “Guys, remember to not walk alone at night with headphones in. But also let me know if yall want a part 2.”
You hit the stop button and he pulls you further into him. “You know I love you, but this is the weirdest TikTok you made me do.”
You chuckle and kiss his jaw. “I know babe.”
#nhl#nhl imagine#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier smut#n. hischier#nh13#new jersey devils#nj devils#nhl fanfiction
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Patriarchy is not merely a system of thought, but a way of being. It’s not “culture.” It’s people. The tragedy of patriarchy, like capitalism but even more so, is that it is realized in relationships. Both sky and earth are silent. Only humans talk to each other. Only humans can create these systems via their beliefs, and these beliefs are shaped by their sense of self, and this sense of self is created by patriarchy, i.e. the people around them.
So both the loving father and abusive father can be patriarchs. Both the loving mother and abusive mother can be misogynists. Really, misogyny isn’t unique to men in our world. It can’t be. Every person borne under patriarchy has internalized the rhetoric of male supremacist ideology. The question of “Do you think your man (be they brother, father, partner, etc) is unique(ly different from other misogynist men)?” can be a loaded question for many women. Because we intuitively recognize that we all have a measure of misogyny in us, but that does not make us exempt from growth or doomed to (what we perceive as) great harm. Our mothers are misogynists, but we don’t fear them. Our sisters, brothers, fathers and friends are misogynists, but we’d never suspect them of physically harming us because of it. There seems to be, according to what we observe, benign and malignant forms of misogyny.
And so two kinds of feminists find themselves at a stalemate. One feminist sees patriarchy, misogyny as the unforgivable injustice it is. Whether it shows itself in words or fists, it is violent to the soul of every woman and girl. It reinforces her struggle. Her sense of inferiority. It alienates her from herself so early, so badly, that she begins self-destructing on their behalf. She knows she is justified in hating the misogynists around her, be it her father, male friends, herself, her mother or female friends. Or even just hating the misogyny in them. She honors her sense of justice and allows herself anger at all of them. And she is not wrong.
The second feminist sees within misogynists their simple humanity. Their limited resistance and will toward the ever-present coercive force of patriarchy. It leaves no one untouched. And all people are born into it against their will. Surely if it can be learned it can be unlearned? How can she hater her father/husband/boyfriend/friend for merely drinking from the first cup he was offered? He tries, like she does, to do good by all people. But no one is constantly vigilant over their own minds. And they have lived in privilege, and so, in their imaginations, there exist “benevolent prejudices” otherwise called “common sense.” Your father may laugh at jokes about women being sassy or emotional, and still defer to her in the home. Still be her friend. Still participate as both a husband and father. Still want to alleviate all her burdens. Still love her. The second feminist knows love and prejudice often co exist within the same individual. And she is not wrong.
What both must recognize is that patriarchy is people. All of us are misogynists fighting our way out or acquiescing. And that this conditioning does not manifest identically for men and women. The first feminist is right to fear and distrust men, to whom patriarchy awards unjustified power, and the second is justified in hoping for their growth and escape from the hierarchy, while recognizing that few will ever truly want to leave their cushy positions. Still, some have. Some will.
Both are right. Sometimes, both are one person.
Fundamentally, patriarchy is a broken relationship. Misogyny, a thing that poisons every relationship we have. Be it with our parents, our peers or ourselves. Navigating that is a lifetime ordeal. And it requires patience. We must be patient in this work. And we must be hopeful. And we must be angry and hurt. And we must struggle together. We must recognize all of it.
Because patriarchy is people, hence patriarchy is deeply human.
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Being best friends with Changbin:
Being best friends with Changbin would be an absolute rollercoaster of fun, chaos, and deep emotional support. From the outside, people might assume that he’s just the tough, confident rapper with a powerful stage presence, but as his best friend, you’d know the real Seo Changbin the softhearted, hilarious, and endlessly caring person behind the music
Endless Roasting Sessions & Playful Banter
One of the biggest parts of being best friends with Changbin would be the constant banter. He’s known for his quick wit and playful teasing, so expect to be roasted on a daily basis. But don’t worry it’s all out of love. Whether it’s making fun of your outfit, calling you “short” (even if you’re taller than him), or mocking your pronunciation of certain words, he’d always find a way to keep things entertaining.
Of course, you’d have to give it right back. Changbin loves when people match his energy, so if you clap back with an equally sassy remark, he’d just laugh and high-five you. The banter never crosses the line into anything mean he’d never want to hurt your feelings. Instead, it would be a constant game of who can come up with the funniest insult or the most dramatic reaction.
Gym buddies for live
Changbin is known for being one of the most dedicated gym-goers in Stray Kids. If you were his best friend, he would absolutely try to drag you to the gym with him. Even if you weren’t into working out, he’d encourage you to at least try it “Just come with me once! I promise you’ll feel amazing afterward!” (Spoiler: you might be sore for days.)
If you actually enjoyed the gym, you’d be his ultimate workout partner. He’d hype you up constantly “LET’S GO! YOU GOT THIS! LOOK AT THOSE GAINS!” and probably challenge you to random competitions like “Who can hold a plank the longest?” (He’d win, but you’d pretend you let him win.)
If you weren’t a fan of the gym at all, he wouldn’t force you, but he’d still send you random gym selfies with captions like “Guess who’s getting stronger while you’re still in bed?” just to mess with you.
Late-Night Deep Talks
Despite his energetic personality, Changbin is actually very sentimental and introspective. As his best friend, you’d get to see that side of him a lot. He’d be the kind of person who randomly texts you at 2 AM like, “Hey, do you ever wonder what life would be like if we made different choices?”
Whenever one of you was feeling down, he’d be the first to check in. He’d insist on meeting up whether it was going for a drive, grabbing late-night food, or just sitting on a park bench talking about life. He’s the type to listen carefully and give thoughtful advice, but he’s also really good at making you laugh even in your worst moments.
Likewise, he’d trust you enough to open up about his struggles too. He might joke around all the time, but he carries a lot of responsibility and pressure. As his best friend, you’d be one of the few people he could truly be vulnerable with.
Studio Hangouts & Exclusive Song Previews
Being best friends with Changbin means spending a LOT of time in the studio. He’s constantly working on new music, and he’d definitely invite you to hang out while he writes, produces, and records. He’d play you unreleased tracks and ask for your opinion “Be honest. Does this verse sound good, or should I change it?”
If you had any musical skills (singing, rapping, writing lyrics, etc.), he’d absolutely hype you up and encourage you to join in. Even if you didn’t, he’d still make you feel involved, maybe by letting you mess around with the soundboard or teaching you how to mix a track.
And of course, there would be plenty of silly moments too freestyle rap battles, making weird beats just for fun, and singing the most random things dramatically just to make each other laugh.
Food Adventures & Late-Night Snacks
Changbin LOVES food, so a big part of your friendship would revolve around eating. Whether it’s trying new restaurants, ordering way too much takeout, or late-night convenience store runs, he’d always be down for a food adventure.
He’d probably make fun of your food choices (“Ew, why would you put that on your pizza?”) but still end up stealing bites from your plate. If you ever cooked something for him, he’d dramatically rate it “This is a 10/10 meal. You should open a restaurant.”
And if you both stayed up late (which would happen often), you’d raid the kitchen together and eat snacks while watching random YouTube videos or talking about life.
Protective Big Brother Energy
Even if you were older than him, Changbin would still act like your protective big brother. If anyone upset you, he’d be the first to step up “Who do I need to fight?” (half-joking but also kind of serious).
If you were feeling anxious or insecure, he’d be the first to hype you up “Are you kidding? You’re amazing. They just don’t have good taste.”
And if you ever got lost in a crowded place or had trouble with something, he’d go full Problem Solver Mode, making sure you were okay.
The Ultimate Concert Hype Man
If you ever went to a Stray Kids concert, Changbin would go out of his way to make sure you had the best experience. Even if you were in the audience, he’d find a way to acknowledge youpointing at you, making silly faces, or hyping you up from the stage.
After the show, he’d text you something like, “Did you see how cool I looked? Be honest.”
If you were backstage, he’d be even more dramatic running up to you after the performance like, “DID YOU SEE THAT?! I KILLED IT, RIGHT?” and expecting you to shower him with compliments.
Nonstop Laughter & Unforgettable Memories
At the end of the day, being best friends with Changbin would mean never having a dull moment. He’s funny without even trying, and his energy is contagious. Whether it’s laughing until your stomach hurts, making up weird inside jokes, or having completely ridiculous conversations, he’d always make sure you were having fun.
But more than that, he’d be the kind of friend who sticks with you through everything the good, the bad, and the chaotic. He’d be your biggest supporter, your partner in crime, and your safe place all in one.
Being best friends with Changbin wouldn’t just mean having fun it would mean having someone who genuinely cares, who listens, who hypes you up, and who always, always has your back.
#stray kids headcanons#stray kids comfort#stray kids#stray kids fluff#changbin fluff#changbin x reader#changbin#skz headcanons#skz#skz changbin#seo changbin#changbin headcanons
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Apple picking and Feline Company
₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Young John x Young reader — John and reader are around 15! (. Can you tell I like writing herbalist reader)
𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Word count: 888 (short sorry…..)
Content warning(s): First time writing John !!
₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Soft complaints from John had been all she had heard for the past fifteen minutes. She grunted, adjusting her position on John’s shoulders, her delicate hands reaching for apples as she searched for the best ones. After all, she wanted to bring back enough to please everyone at camp.
“Can you be any slower?” John grumbled, his hands gripping her thighs as he held her up. His gaze flickered around the field, scanning for any guards.
She glanced down at him, unimpressed. Shaking her head, she began tossing apples into the sack they’d brought.
“C’mon, Johnnie, just a little longer, pleaaaase?~” she teased, ruffling his hair.
John let out a dramatic sigh, kicking a rock against the tree. Reluctantly, he didn’t complain further, though he still had plenty of snark left in him.
“You’re gonna get us caught. I ain't need that right now.” He barked before jerking the sack from her and gently helping her down from his shoulders.
“H-Hey!” She squeaked, stumbling slightly before steadying herself. She shot him a glare before yanking the sack back from his hands.
“What’s your deal, Marston?” she whined, glancing inside the sack to check their loot.
John furrowed his brows, glaring at her like he wanted to snap back — but he held his tongue. He couldn't stay mad at her for long. With a sigh, he started to speak,
“I ain't mean nothin’ by it—”
Before he could finish, an angry voice rang out.
Aw, hell.
Without hesitation, John ripped the bag from Her and grabbed her wrist, dragging her along as they bolted from the scene of their little apple-picking fiasco.
They ducked behind a crate near the farm’s exit, crouching low and holding their breath. John’s frustration only grew — he’d been too damn loud whining at her, and now they were nearly caught.
She placed a hand on John’s knee, peeking out from behind the crate. Once she was sure they had a chance to escape, she sighed and snatched the bag from him, giving him an unamused look.
“You almost got us caught!” she whispered dramatically, though there was a teasing lilt in her voice.
John shot her an incredulous look.
“Oh, don’t you go blamin’ me!” he snapped, standing up and storming off toward his horse.
She scrambled to her feet, frowning as she hurried after him. She hadn't meant for her joke to actually upset him.
“Johnnie—” she called softly.
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder at her. Seeing the guilt in her expression, he sighed before reaching out and ruffling her hair.
She beamed at the small gesture and continued following him, swinging the sack of apples over her shoulder.
“You’re always so dramatic. I’m surprised Dutch ain't hung you himself.” She nudged him playfully, giggling.
The words lingered for a moment. John’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not amused. His next words were sharper than before.
“Yeah? Well, I’m surprised you ain’t tripped over your own damn feet and got yourself hung first.”
She halted, puffing out her cheeks. She wanted to be mad, but after a long moment of tense silence, the corners of John’s lips twitched into a smirk. Her cheeks quivered before she broke first, a giggle escaping her lips. Within seconds, both of them were laughing, shaking their heads at each other.
For all their differences, their friendship somehow worked.
As they neared John’s horse, She rambled on about ways the gang could use the apples.
Then, she suddenly stopped. Her head snapped toward a small bush, ears perking at a soft, high-pitched meow.
“Oh!” she gasped excitedly, shoving the bag of apples into John’s arms before hurrying over.
John sighed, watching as she crouched by the bush.
There, covered in mud and looking downright pathetic, was a tiny white kitten. She giggled at the sight, reaching her hands out to it.
John knelt beside her, eyeing the kitten with a grimace. “You ain't seriously about to—”
Too late. She scooped the kitten up, whispering sweetly to it as she checked. A boy!
Humming happily, she held the kitten up so John could see. Muddy little paw prints now decorated her dress, but she didn’t seem to care.
“You think Dutch will let us keep a cat?” she asked hopefully.
John huffed. “Maybe — kinda doubt it.”
She nodded, scratching under the kitten’s chin as it let out a tiny purr. She was already attached.
“I’ll name him Fern!” she declared proudly.
John raised a brow. Fern? Of course, she’d name the damn cat after a plant.
Rolling his eyes, he let out an amused chuckle before standing and offering Her a hand.
“You better hope Dutch lets you keep that thing.”
She pouted, cradling the small cat against her chest.
“He let Arthur get a new horse — it’s only fair.”
John scoffed. “Uh-huh. That’s totally not different.”
She playfully nudged him before securing the sack of apples to his saddle. Then, wrapping one arm around John and holding Fern securely in the other, she grinned.
“You’ll see.”
The ride back to camp was filled with their usual bickering — John teasing her about the cat, She stubbornly defending her case, and her pointing out every flower they passed, listing off facts John already knew.
Still, he couldn’t help but smirk. Her and her damn plants.
And now… that damn cat.
#writing#red dead redemption two#arthur morgan#rdr x reader#john marston#john marston x reader#rdr#rdr2#meow#fanfic#oneshot#cowboy
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first day jitters
summary: you and marcello meeting each other while auditioning for snl. requested by anonymous.
“you got this baby, you’re gonna do amazing. and no matter what happens, i’m so proud of you.” your mom said to you over the phone. you were currently on your way into NBC studios for a cast member audition for SNL.
“thank you. i love you.” you said before exchanging your goodbyes before walking into the building. you were met with a small group of people who you presumed were there as well, falling into line behind a young guy, who looked to be about your age.
you watched as he scrolled through a note on his phone, going over the jokes you presumed he was going to tell for his audition. you listened as he honed in on his cadence and focusing on landing the punchlines. his jokes were funny, and you hoped that his audition went well.
you focused on your material as well, perfecting your bits and impressions. you noticed out of the corner of your eye, the guy in front you watching you, huffing a small laugh after your delivery of a punchline.
“your stuff is good.” he said to you.
“thanks. so is yours.” you said with a smile.
“i’m marcello.” he said with a smile, extending his hand to shake.
“y/n.” you said, taking his hand.
the two of you chit chatted while you stood and waited for your turns to audition. marcello was up first, and you wished him luck as he walked into the studio. since it was getting close to your turn, you felt your heart start to race as your nerves started to set in. you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, twiddling your thumbs while you waited.
just then, the doors opened, marcello walking out of the studio.
“how did it go?” you asked as he walked back over to you.
“i’m not sure? i thought i was doing well, but it was dead silent in there.” he huffed.
“god, that’s bringing my nerves all back.” you sighed.
“oh no! i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to freak you out. you’re gonna kill it.” he said, squeezing your shoulders. just then, the door opened and a PA was calling your name.
“y/n l/n, you’re up.” they said.
“you got this.” marcello said, flashing a smile. you took a deep breath before walking through the door.
you were led to the stage and suddenly the nerves came flooding back. you took a deep breath, introducing yourself before diving into your audition. you told your jokes and performed your bits. even though it was five minutes, it felt like forever. but, once it was over, you said your good byes, thanking everyone for their time, before walking out of the studio.
you felt tears start to welling in your eyes as you walked down the halls and made your way back out onto the street. as soon as you walked out, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, your mom calling you again.
“hey mommy.” you said softly, taking a deep breath, trying to keep yourself from crying.
“how’d it go?” she asked.
“um, kinda weird? i guess. i thought i was doing well, but there were hardly any laughs. it made me feel like i was doing awful.” you sighed.
“maybe that doesn’t mean what you think. don’t get too down until you hear back from them. you’re so funny, and you’d be a perfect addition to that show.”
“you’re just saying that because you have to. you’re my mom.”
“well, yes. but it’s true. and you know it too.” she said.
“i love you.” you said softly. just then, you felt a tap on your shoulder, and you turned to find marcello standing behind you. he waved, flashing you another smile. “mom, i gotta go. thank you for everything, always.”
“okay sweetie. keep your head up. i love you.”
“i love you too, bye.” you said, hanging up the phone. you focused on marcello, smiling back at him. “hi again.”
“hey. you wanna go get a drink? there’s a good bar around the corner.” he suggested.
“sure.” you said. you walked with him down the street, making your way to the bar. you ordered drinks before moving to a table.
“so, did you feel like shit after your audition too?” he asked.
“oh yeah” you laughed. “i almost started crying.”
“dude, me too.” marcello laughed. “i’m scared this isn’t gonna end well.”
“alright, i don’t wanna dwell on this. let’s talk about something else.” you said, ordering you and marcello another round as the waiter came to your table. “do you live in new york?” you asked.
“i moved here after i graduated college to really start making moves in the comedy scene out here. i met some people online who had connections here and they introduced me to some people.” he began, taking a drink from his fresh glass. “then the pandemic hit, and i moved back home for a little bit. i started posting some of my jokes on tiktok, and gained a bit of a following, which was nice. then as we started to be able to travel again, i was able to start performing again and moved back to new york.”
“i was in the same situation, but out in LA. i was doing stand up mostly, and dabbled just a bit in improv with some friends of mine. then, like you, when the pandemic hit, i started posting on tiktok, just little sketches and telling jokes.” you explained.
you and marcello spent the rest of the afternoon, getting drunk together and getting to know each other. you were glad that you were hitting it off well, and you hoped that you’d get to work with each other.
after a few hours, and after running up your tabs, you and marcello exchanged numbers before you went your separate ways.
about a week later, you were back in LA, visiting your mom. you’d just got back to her house after lunch, and were lounging in the living room when your phone started ringing.
“oh my god, it’s a new york number.” you said, immediately shaking from head to toe.
“answer it!” your mom cheered. you answered the phone, taking a deep breath before a shaky hello left your lips.
“y/n? this is marci klein with saturday night live. i was there for your audition, and i just wanted to let you know that we think you’d be a perfect addition to the show.” she said.
“that’s so great! thank you so much!”
“you’re so welcome. we look forward to having you!” she said. she gave you a few more details about the show, when they were expecting you, and other information about the onboarding process. you thanked her again before hanging up the phone.
“oh my god! i can’t believe this!” you said through tears.
“baby, i’m so proud of you! i knew you would make it.” your mom said, standing to give you a hug.
“thank you mommy.” you said through tears. just then, your phone started ringing again, marcello’s name flashing on your screen. “did you hear?!” you asked as soon as you answered.
“yeah.”
“and?”
“i made it!” he cheered.
“oh, that’s so great! congratulations!” you said to him.
“thank you so much. what about you?” he asked.
“i made it too!” you said excitedly.
“y/n! that’s great! i can’t wait to get to work with you.”
“same here.” you said. you were lucky you were on the phone and he couldn’t see you blushing. you and marcello talked for just a little while longer before hanging up.
“it’s hard to believe that that was almost three years ago.” marcello said to you, a smile on his face. you were out at dinner with some new friends who asked how you met. after you moved to new york, and you and marcello started working together, you started hanging out more and more, and eventually began dating. it was hard at first, adjusting to working together while starting to date. but, you made it work, and the two of you ended up being great together.
“one of the best days of my life.” you said with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.
“mine too.” marcello smiled, kissing you again.
“you guys are too cute.”
“thank you.” you said, blushing.
later that night, after dinner and once you were back home, you and marcello were in the kitchen putting away your left overs. you heard the faint sound of salsa music coming from the living room speakers, marcello dancing into the kitchen. he took you into his arms, spinning you around the kitchen.
“i love you so much.” marcello said to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
“i love you so much.” you repeated. “i can’t believe it’s been three years since the day we met. it feels like yesterday, but also like a lifetime ago.”
“best three years of my life.”
“mine too.”
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Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Fluff Headcanons (JYP Idols Edition
How You Two Got Together:
You and Chan met as trainees, growing close over the years. Even after debuting in different groups under JYP, you remained best friends, always supporting each other.
The feelings were mutual, but you both hesitated due to your careers. Eventually, Chan, being the bold leader he is, confessed first during a late-night studio session.
Since you’re both idols, you kept the relationship private at first, but the members of Stray Kids and your group caught on quickly.
Dating as Idols Under JYP:
Chan always finds ways to see you despite busy schedules, whether it’s sneaking into your practice room with snacks or FaceTiming you when he’s composing.
He makes sure you’re taking care of yourself, often nagging you like a true leader. "Did you eat?" "Don’t overwork yourself!" You do the same for him, and the members love how you keep their leader in check.
Matching couple bracelets or rings that fans speculate about but can’t confirm. You both tease them by wearing them during interviews and pretending it’s a coincidence.
Late-night studio dates where Chan lets you sit on his lap while he produces music, occasionally pressing kisses to your temple when no one’s around.
If your groups are on the same music show lineup, he tries to act professional but can’t help sending you secret glances or smiles.
Straykids Reactions:
Lee Know: Pretends to be indifferent but actually teases Chan constantly. “Aish, our leader is so whipped,” he says before smirking when Chan blushes.
Changbin: Third-wheels a lot. "Hey, you two going on a date? Mind if I tag along?" He secretly finds your relationship adorable.
Hyunjin: Dramatically sighs about how he’s single while lowkey gushing about how cute you two are behind your backs.
Han: Constantly jokes about how Chan used to be "married to music" before you came along. Also loves making you both flustered by bringing up fan theories.
Felix: Your biggest supporter! He’s always saying how happy you make Chan and loves taking secret pictures of you two being soft together.
Seungmin: Relentlessly roasts Chan. "Wow, so you really found someone who puts up with you? Impressive."
I.N: Admires your relationship and sometimes asks for dating advice, even if he doesn’t need it.
Fans’ Reactions:
Fans start noticing the little things—Chan subtly looking for you during award shows, both of you reacting to each other’s performances, and the matching accessories.
“WHY DOES CHAN ALWAYS SMILE WHEN Y/N’S GROUP PERFORMS??”
“Not me analyzing their interactions like a detective…”
“The way Y/N and Chan interacted in the JYP family concert… THEY’RE SOULMATES.”
When you finally go public, fans freak out but mostly in a supportive way. Many admire how respectful and private your relationship was.
Bonus:
When your relationship is finally confirmed, Stray Kids post a chaotic TikTok with the caption: "Our leader finally has a life outside the studio!"
Chan, ever the sweetheart, writes a heartfelt Bubble message thanking fans for their support and promising to continue giving his best as both an idol and a boyfriend.
Your group members tease you just as much as Stray Kids tease Chan.
Felix and Hyunjin are the honorary members of your ship's fan club.
(Heyyy my lovleys,it's been a long time, but I'm back, and I do apologise for my absence, but I hope you enjoyed this post regardless. Love you bye xx)
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Tina was caring, in my book she cared more about pleasing others, than herself. All the times she kept her mouth shut, fought the urges to complain how others were holding a spotlight, I knew towards the end of my senior year it was taking a toll on her, and yeah back then we did get in a fight a brief one how Rachel was hogging the spotlight, that she craved that solo. And I defended Mr. Shue choice based on us seniors that my girlfriend would have her lime light to shine, and this year was her year.
But even I was taken back at the accusation that the brunette aired out. “ You selfish? Now who do I have to beat up for you?” I was joking and my tone said it all. As if Mike Chang was able to beat up a fly. He had good muscles, but he believed in the method of talking over using the use of your fist. But he would sacrifice himself for Tina. and man her being told not everything revolves around her, I had to wonder did they mistake Tina for Rachel, enough as I quipped up a reply. “ Are you sure Rachel wasn’t visiting?” We both knew how self centered, serving the tiny brunette was. The pair continued on their little walk of town. Each building was full of wonder, a small shop of clothing, of home detector came into view. A nod towards the door. “ Want to take a look around?” Us getting along, us finding a common ground of us again it was refreshing and nice to sink in.
‘ maybe, I don’t know, obviously you had the right to go with someone else, we broke up.” Even uttering those words left a pit in my stomach. “ But I definitely would’ve wished it was me on your arm.” As sheepish grin played at the corners of his lips. He knew it was distance, I had let Tina down, but standing here with her; it didn’t feel like our futures, our love and care was that far away.
@oficantsing
{I smiled across the table at Mike when he enthusiastically agreed to the chocolate chip pancakes selection for our shared breakfast. Of course Mike was getting his own choice of side dish, while I was obviously getting an extra large helping of crispy bacon to go with mine, but regardless, it felt like old times that the two of us were sharing a meal together again. Even better though that the meal didn't have anything to do with the words, "chicken feet" in it, cause if I never saw chicken feet again, it would still be too soon for me. Anyway, that was a bit of a touchy subject for us, considering chicken feet served its part in breaking Mike and I up. Recalling Mike recommending us going to "Asian Couple Counseling" due to my constant complaining about our every meal involving chicken feet. All in all Mike deciding I was a terrible Asian, because I seemed to be against everything Asian's typically liked. Of course we got beyond all of that, and in the end, it was distance that broke us up. Still, I was happiest if the topic of chicken feet remained off the table for us. I silently considered as Mike responded about his showcase. I felt relieved hearing him tell me he would want me there. That was a relief, since I knew that could have gone either way} No, I'll be there. And you know, it's not far from prom, so what if I take a bus here for your showcase, and then we can drive back to Lima together for prom preparations and stuff? {I suggested. Not knowing if Mike would want to be in a car with me for that long, but hey, if we were going to consider the chance of "us" again, down the line, then we would need to work through some of the communication boundaries and walls we currently have between us, in lieu of our time apart and lack of any and all conversation. At least that's my take on it though} I mean, we don't have to though. It's just an idea. The roadtrip could be fun, right?
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