#to do what i was suggesting years before that... and when i tell her i said this years before she gets upset and starts yelling

[ktownshizzle]

Friends & Fools | One-Shot

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit?

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, reunion!au, best friends & roommates to lovers, grumpy x grumpy, when reader is more yoongi than yoongi himself

Warnings: cursing, smoking cigarettes, kissing, allusion to sex

Word count: 2.8k

Posting date: November 26, 2024

Notes: This is a one-shot to celebrate my 500 followers milestone for the blog! Just a cute little something as a thank you making this writer happy. The story was inspired by two asks: 1) lovely anon who wanted to talk about Yoongi at Jimmy Fallon; 2) kookiewithluv who sent me the softest, smiliest, fluffiest d-day Yoongi photos that I just couldn’t help myself.

Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Masterlist

MIN YOONGI 101 is a course you could’ve taught in school. It’s a subject matter you’ve mastered somewhere between the sandbox (when he was the kid hoarding plastic shovels in the playground) and the shoebox (the over-priced apartment that you both decided to rent together after uni).

It’s ‘cause you’ve always been good at watching him. You’ve picked up all his visual cues, his weird quirks, his tells.

Tonight is no different. From across the room, in the too-bright glare of your high school gym’s rented stage lights, you catch the tell-tale pinch of his brow, the mindless nodding that means he’s enduring yet another overly enthusiastic former classmate. Someone’s laughing too loud in his face, and he responds the same way he always does—with a small, polite smile and a glance at his drink like it’s his lifeline.

You’d know that look anywhere.

Yoongi catches your eye then, like he can feel your energy slicing through the crowd, and his lips twitch. The faintest ghost of a smirk, the kind he reserves just for you. He raises his glass, and you do the same from across the room. A silent message of we're too fucking sober to be in this joint.  He holds your gaze and you watch as he inadvertently inserts the straw up one nostril, giggling because that wouldn’t be the first time. He shakes his head and puts it back in his mouth for a sip.

It’s comforting, really. That tether between you and Yoongi.

Even if the two of you are apparently the only ones here who don’t see what everyone else does.

You are standing by the endlessly classy boxed wine on the buffet table, watching your old classmates get progressively tipsier under dim lighting. Yoongi stands next to you, unabashedly drinking whiskey straight from his flask. He looks real sharp in a tailored blazer, with a casual t-shirt underneath, mumbling earlier that day how he cannot be arsed to fiddle with a necktie, even though it’s always you who has been fixing it for job interviews, funerals, formal occasions etc. for him for the past years. Secretly you think he knew that wearing that t-shirt actually just made him look effortlessly cool.

Someone from across the room waves, and you recognize it to be Hyorin, your former lab partner who was also a cheerleader or something, making her way toward you. “Oh my God, you two!” she exclaims, beaming. “You finally got together, huh?”

Yoongi chokes on his drink, and you nearly drop your solo.

“Nooo,” Yoongi drawls, dragging the word out with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Hyorin frowns, tilting her head. “Wait. You’re not a couple?”

You both shake your heads so emphatically it looked rehearsed. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the P.

“Not even fucking?”

The audacity of this chick, though?

“Not even close,” Yoongi answers, but his voice sounded oddly tight. 

Hyorin gives you both a skeptical once-over before laughing. “Okay, sure. Whatever you guys say.” She leaves, shaking her head like you’ve just told her the earth is flat, didn’t you know that?

They’re really starting to piss you off, ngl.

“Okay, but seriously,” Jihyo, who was in the band with you and one of the few people you’ve kept some form of contact with (hence can tolerate), hisses. “You’re really still not together?”

It was your turn to choke on your drink. “Hajimaaa! Why does everyone keep asking me that? Y’all wanna shoot your shot with Yoongi, go! I don’t give a fuck.”

Jihyo gives you a look like you’re the most oblivious person on earth. “This is exactly why I think you’re into him. Not everyone wants to date him, girl. We’re just curious about you two.”

“I—fuck you, actually. Give me one good reason why you think we’re a… thing.”

“Because you and Yoongi have been attached at the hip since we were all kids? Because you practically morphed into the same person? Because he’s literally looked at you the same way since he had that awful mushroom cut in fourth grade?”

“It wasn’t a mushroom cut. It was…” You cringe. “Yeah, it was a mushroom cut.”

You both giggle, then she asks, swirling the remains of her wine. “But seriously. Everyone thought you finally figured it out. You two moved in together a couple of months ago, no?”

“Yeah, because rent’s insane, I hate people, and he hates people, so we’re perfect roommates.”

Jihyo raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Roommates. Sure.”

You roll your eyes, but the words stick with you as the night drags on, looping in your head as more classmates approach with the same comments. It’s exhausting. You’re about to grab your coat and drag Yoongi out of here when you feel a familiar figure at your side.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice low, his shoulder brushing yours. 

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “Just… everyone keeps asking why we’re not dating.”

Yoongi scoffs, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “What’d you tell ‘em?”

“The truth.”

He smirks again, but it’s sharper this time, laced with something you can’t quite name. “And what’s that?”

“That you’re a chronically unavailable workaholic and are too emotionally constipated to be anyone’s boyfriend.”

He huffs a laugh, shoulders bobbing. “Ouch,” he says, but his eyes are soft, the way they get when he looks at you sometimes, warm and wistful.

You look away first, clearing your throat, suddenly remembering what Jihyo said about how he looks at you. “Well, you’re not exactly ideal boyfriend material.”

Yoongi shrugs, mouth forming a straight line. “Fair.”

Anyway, you know you’re no dream girl, either. He is just way too soft for you to say it to your face.

Between the two of you, your combined dating history looks like a collection of UN flags, except they’re all red. 

Him with his too-whiny, needy bitches, who have far too high expectations of him and he is just not the guy to validate their feelings 24 fucking 7. He has things to do (produce) and places to be (his studio).

And you, with your love bombers and commitment-phobes that have got you questioning if there’s something wrong with you because they always lose interest down the line. (Yoongi says they're all assholes btw, and you are inclined to believe him, despite lingering self-doubt.)

You always joked that no one else understood either of you the way you understood each other.

But aren’t jokes half-meant?

By the time the reunion starts winding down, you’re tipsy enough that the edges of the night feel soft and fuzzy. You’re outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building with Yoongi, his jacket draped over your shoulders because he’s simply gentlemanly like that. Raised well by his eomma who you equally adore.

“You didn’t have to stay this long,” he says, lighting a cigarette.

You watch the glow of it as he inhales, the faint tremble of his fingers in the cold. “Neither did you.”

He shrugs, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “I wasn’t gonna let you suffer alone.”

Something warm pools in your chest. “Thanks. And, same.”

The quiet stretches between you, the kind of comfortable silence only Yoongi can manage. It’s strange how natural it feels, just existing with him like this. Like it’s enough.

You gesture to the stick, then he slowly brings it to your lips.

You exhale the smoke as you tilt your head back to look at the stars—or what few stars there are on this cloudy night—and ask the question that’s been sitting heavy on your tongue all night.

“Why do you think everyone assumes we’re together?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you like it’s settling on your shoulders.

“I dunno,” he says eventually, voice quiet. “Maybe because we act like we are.”

Hol’ up. “What do you mean?”

He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slow. “I mean… we know each other better than anyone else. We live together. Spend all our time together. Maybe they think it just makes sense.”

Your heart stutters. “Does it?”

Yoongi stills, blinks like he’s trying to suss out where you’re going with this. “What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice teeny-tiny. “Just… do you ever think maybe we’ve been—”

“Idiots?” he cuts in, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh, but it’s shaky. “Yeah. That.”

Yoongi looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like the ground might give out beneath you. There’s something in his expression, something raw and vulnerable and scared. Like he’s standing on the edge of something, just waiting for you to push him over.

“Sometimes,” he says finally, his voice rough.

It’s not an admission, not exactly, but it’s enough to make your pulse race.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the words catch in your throat.

He snuffs the cigarette against the wall and tosses it towards the can. Then, he steps closer, close enough that you can see the faint moles on his face, the curve of his lashes as he blinks down at you.

“You wanna go home?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You know what he’s really asking.

You say yes.

The walk to the subway station is quiet. Tense.

The back of his hand brushes yours as you walk along the sidewalk, and neither of you moves away.

The subway ride back to your apartment is also quiet. Tense.

Yoongi doesn’t say much, but his knee brushes yours every time the train sways, and neither of you moves away. 

By the time you’re back in your apartment, your brain is mushy and your head feels like it’s about to explode as you keep rewinding and replaying the events of the night, every classmate that alluded to your relationship, his lingering glance, sharing the cigarette, every half-formed word between you... Fuck.

Yoongi kicks off his shoes by the door, pushing it under the rack. You stand there awkwardly, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

“Tea?” he asks, already moving toward the kitchen.

“No.” Your voice comes out too abrupt, too sharp, and he freezes.

He turns slowly, eyes searching yours. “You ok?”

“No.” You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. “I think we’ve been avoiding this for a long time.”

Yoongi blinks, but you know he is just pretending not to understand what you meant. “Avoiding what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “Us.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then— “Mm.”

Mm. That’s all he says, like you haven’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of your tiny living room.

“Yoongi,” you say, stepping closer. “Do you—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, nodding as he bites down on his lower lip. “I do.”

The air shifts between you, and suddenly you’re not sure who moves first, but then his warm hands are on your face and your fingers are tangled in his shirt and his mouth is on yours, and—

Oh.

Damn.

His lips are softer than you imagined—not that you spent countless late nights pining, but if you had, this would surpass every hypothetical. He kisses like he does everything else: deliberate, unhurried, sure. His hands slide down from your face to rest on your waist.

The sigh that slips from your lips is involuntary, but it’s enough for him to push further. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you open, and when he deepens the kiss, tasting you, it uncoils the knot that’s been tight in your belly all night. Yoongi tastes faintly like whiskey, like cigarettes, and something else so distinctly him and you’re endlessly intoxicated.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing the nape of his neck, and the low, guttural noise he makes in response sends a shockwave through you. Heat settles in your core, spreading with an intensity that takes you by surprise. Because omg–this is not some hot stranger you met at a bar. This is your goddamn best friend, whose hand is now dangerously encroaching on the swell of your ass.

You hadn’t expected this—not the kiss, not the pleasure, not the way he makes you feel like you’re in some version of paradise.

You’re melting with every curl of his tongue, every shift in the way his lips move against yours. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes the rest of the world fall away, until the only thing you’re aware of is the feel of him—his warmth, his certainty, the way he kisses like he already knows this is how it should’ve been in the first place–a sureness you hadn’t expected. 

It’s not just passion—it’s belonging, the sense that every piece of you slots perfectly into place with him. Like the years of laughter, arguments, and everything in between have all been leading here. His hands now circling your waist feel steady, like they’ve always known where to hold you even though this is the very first time. 

And in that moment, kissing Yoongi feels like coming home—warm, certain, complete. A place you hadn’t known you were searching for, because you’ve always been with him, and now you can’t imagine ever leaving.

When you finally pull away, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are a bit moist, blinking blankly like he can’t fathom what just happened. His arms loosen their hold on you, just a bit, and suddenly, you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

And for a second, your stomach churns, worried that the wheels in his head are turning and it’s telling him that this was not it.

Finally he speaks. “Was that weird?” 

You huff out a breath, a cross between a chuckle and a sigh of relief, because God. Yoongi could be pressed against you, breathless and flushed, and he’d still overthink. You really belong together.

“Not weird,” you say softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Weirdly perfect, maybe.”

He exhales sharply, relief flooding his features. “Fuck, okay. Good. Because if it sucked for you, I’d have to move out. And in this economy???”

You swat his chest, laughing again, but then his arms tighten around you again, holding you close, and the teasing fades into something softer. It’s not lost on you that this is the longest you’ve ever touched each other. Two socially awkward fools who are secretly touch-starved now finally getting what they’ve been craving for but have been too shy to admit it.

“Seriously, though,” he says, a lopsided grin decorating his lips. “What happens next?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. You could still make tea if you want?”

He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

"Or…" you say, sliding your hands across his chest, your fingers lingering just enough to feel his breath hitch beneath your touch. You push his blazer off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. "We could… you know."

Yoongi lifts his head, and the look in his eyes makes your heart trip over itself. There’s heat there, sure, but beneath it lies something deeper, something that feels vulnerable. "Are we really doing this?"

And you know what he means. Because again, you know Min Yoongi inside out. And he’s known you. But now you’re ready to bare everything that’s left to discover.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything," you say, your voice steady in a way that surprises even you.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his last bit of hesitation melting away as he nods.

You step back, your movements slow, deliberate. Turning away from him, you reach for the straps of your dress and slide them down your shoulders, feeling the fabric loosen as you take a few steps toward his room. You glance back over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you coming?"

He grins, gummy and warm, and it’s so achingly Yoongi that your chest tightens. "I would hope so…"

You roll your eyes stifling a laugh, because he’s stupid, because he’s him. And because you’ve never loved (wait... what?) anyone more in your entire life. "C’mere then," you tease, the words soft, daring, as your dress slips to the floor and pools around your ankles.

He breathes out, a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost disbelief. "Okay," he says, his voice low, quiet, like he’s agreeing to something more than just this moment.

And maybe he is. Maybe this is the easiest thing in the world, the most inevitable thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

And now, finally, you’re both ready to admit it.

:)

A/N: EEEEKKKK Please tell me what you thought about the story! I'd appreciate feedback if you loved it, hated it, and if it made you feel a certain way.

Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo 

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.& If you want to be tagged for all future stories, you can sign up for the permanent taglist.

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[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 H.S.K.T huh yunjin x reader

🥣⊹ ❝have you seen a woman like this before? I got what you need❞ - lee hi

↳ warnings idol!au, katseye!yn, swearing, fluff, cuteness I promise no angst

yunjin would never admit to being a playgirl or bad at relationships, but anyone who’s been involved with her would likely tell a different story.

she just couldn’t bring herself to commit to anyone. being an idol meant constantly being on the move, and she never felt the need to be tied down. with that mindset, she’d definitely broken a few hearts along the way, earning herself a bit of a reputation.

and she never really cared about the reputation, why should she? at least people knew what they were getting into. so what if she’d broken a few hearts? that wasn’t her problem. it’s not like she was looking to commit to anyone anyway.

boy, did those words bite her in the ass.

when yunjin first laid her eyes on yn it was through her introduction for the dream academy, she was pretty, like idol pretty, yunjin knew right away that fans would be drawn to her and vote for her without a doubt.

and seeing yn in person? don’t even get her started. yunjin was mesmerized. she vividly remembers stumbling over her words every time their eyes met while giving the girls advice, earning confused looks from her members.

hybe idols weren’t allowed to vote for contestants, but that didn’t stop yunjin from secretly voting for yn in every mission.

she was drawn to yn, so drawn that she completely lost it when she found out yn had secretly swapped numbers with sakura to get advice from someone who’d been in the industry for years.

“give me her number,” yunjin demanded, glaring at the older member, who looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“no.”

“why?” yunjin whined, throwing herself face first into a pillow.

“because I know you,” sakura said firmly. “and I’m not letting you mess with this innocent girl.”

“wha—wha—” yunjin sputtered, lifting her head in protest.

“I said no,” sakura repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

yunjin needed another way to get in contact with yn. she spent weeks trying to figure it out, but every option seemed like a dead end. the contestants had their dms turned off on instagram, so that was out of the question.

but then the day finally came yn’s name was announced. the smile that spread across yunjin’s face in that moment was impossible to miss.

the plan was simple and smooth. she’d slide into yn’s dms, shower her with compliments, casually suggest that yoonchae and eunchae should exchange numbers and be friends, butter her up a little, and boom, yn would be on a plane to korea to visit her.

let’s just say it did not go as smoothly as she hoped.

she was hit with this.

sakura told me not answer you.

charming but now that I’m under hybe I’ve heard about you jennifer…

I’ll give you yoonchae’s number for eunchae tho 🫶

yunjin couldn’t believe it, her playgirl reputation was finally catching up to her, just as she was starting to see where something could actually go with someone.

nah.

she refuses to let this get in the way of her getting that girl.

she just needed another plan.

“unnie you sound crazy.” eunchae said watching yunjin pace in front of her.

“I sound crazy, genius,” yunjin shot back. “so here’s the plan you’re going to find out from yoonchae when they start doing promotions in korea, and you’re also going to slip in some nice things about me. can you do that?”

“uh…”

“if yoonchae approves of me, that’ll help. but I’m worried about sophia—she’s the one I need to win over. I’ll text her, make myself seem perfect... they all seem kinda protective of her, don’t they? I just need an in. I’m charming, I can easily win her over. and then there’s sakura unnie—she’s getting in the way,” yunjin rambled, already plotting her next move.

yunjin was determined to make her move. when katseye finally arrived in korea for their promotional activities, she wasted no time.

every day, she tried something new whether it was a flirty comment, a lingering touch, or a perfectly timed compliment but each time, someone would interrupt, and it always seemed like the universe was conspiring against her.

it started the very first day, in the hallway of the music show venue. yunjin was walking towards the stage when she spotted yn in the distance, standing by the snack table, talking to megan and manon. she couldn’t resist. she approached with a confident stride, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"hey yn," yunjin said smoothly, leaning in just a little too close, "you’ve been looking even more pretty since you got here."

yn raised an eyebrow but didn't seem fazed. "oh? is that so?"

before yunjin could reply, she heard a voice from behind her. "yunjin, stop bothering her," sakura called out from the other side of the hallway, arms crossed, her usual stern expression on her face. "can’t you see she’s busy?"

yunjin shot a frustrated look at sakura, who was already guiding yn back towards the group, while manon and megan followed, yunjin sighed and glanced at the floor, cursing under her breath.

later that night, after a long day of rehearsals, the two groups went out to eat at a popular bbq spot.

yunjin made sure to sit as close to yn as possible, her hand casually brushing against hers when she reached for the sauce. she smiled at yn, her usual flirtatious charm back in full force.

"you know, it’s funny," yunjin began, her voice low as she leaned in just a bit. "I’ve been thinking about you a lot. it's like you’ve got some sort of pull on me."

yn turned to her, playing with her chopsticks, a teasing grin creeping across her face. "oh really? and what kind of pull is that?"

just as yunjin was about to answer, a loud voice interrupted them. "yunjin, you’re blocking the sauce," kazuha said, not looking up from her plate, though she clearly noticed the interaction.

yunjin let out a long sigh, slumping in her seat. "seriously? can’t you guys let me have a moment?"

yn chuckled, clearly amused by yunjin’s frustration. "I’ve been complaining about you interrupting me all day but seems like you’re the one being interrupted."

"yeah, no kidding," yunjin muttered, but she didn’t give up. every glance she sent yn’s way was full of intent.

a couple of days later, they all went out to a late night cafe after finishing their schedule.

the atmosphere was more relaxed, all the girls scattered in little groups and yunjin took the opportunity to close in once again. she spotted yn sitting with manon and sophia laughing at something, and made her way over.

"sophia, you mind if I steal yn for a minute?" yunjin asked, flashing a bright smile at the girl, who seemed a little too amused by the situation.

"sure," sophia said, almost too casually getting up from her seat, she gave yn a knowing look before waving her off. "but remember, she’s not just anyone." manon added in a teasing voice, following behind sofia.

yunjin’s grin only widened as she slid into the seat beside yn. "I don’t need to be told twice," she said, her tone playful.

"wow, you’re persistent," yn teased, nudging yunjin lightly with her elbow.

"that’s because I know how to handle challenges," yunjin replied with a smirk. "and you are quite the challenge."

just as the conversation was taking a more flirty turn, eunchae wandered over, almost dragging yoonchae behind her. "isn’t it late?" eunchae asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. "yunjin unnie, we have practice early tomorrow."

yunjin rolled her eyes but stood up, a playful grin on her face. "I guess this isn’t meant to be."

yn watched her with amusement in her eyes. "maybe you’ll get your moment eventually," she teased, though her tone was softer, almost encouraging.

days passed, and yunjin’s frustration grew. she kept trying to get yn alone, but every time, something or someone would pop up. and then, just a couple of days before katseye was scheduled to return to la, it happened.

yunjin found herself alone with yn, just the two of them walking down the hallway, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

"yn," yunjin said, her voice suddenly serious. "I know my reputation isn’t the best. I’ve got this whole image.. but I want you to know... I want you. and I want this. I know it’s a mess, but I can’t stop thinking about you. since I first saw you on that introduction screen, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind."

yn paused, her smile faltering for just a moment. she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms “you’ve got quite the reputation yunjin, I’m kind of scared.”

yunjin’s heart raced. "I’m not playing games, yn. I’m serious. just... let me show you. let me prove it."

yn bit her lip, her eyes searching yunjin’s face for sincerity. after a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice playful but knowing. "alright, one chance, yunjin. but that’s all you get."

“one chance is all I need.” yunjin said a sly smile making its way to her face.

"just know, you're gonna be the one telling everyone about us," yn replied, her tone teasing. "no one actually thought i'd give in, it’s just been all fun and games for them.”

the smile on yunjin's face faltered, her confidence momentarily slipping. "what?"

yn's grin widened as she took a step back, glancing over her shoulder. "have fun telling sakura," she sang, her voice light with amusement.

and with that, yn turned and walked ahead, leaving yunjin standing in the hallway.

“shit.”

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain Part 2 (Eddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: You have decided 😈 I'll release this now then :) Enjoy the angst and the cliffhanger! *dances away in an angsty fashion*.

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer (Friend's Dad) Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy Kink, public-ish smut (quickie at work), FLUFF, Eddie really does love his daughter and is trying to be a better father. He also really cares about you which leads me to...

ANGST! Reader mentions that Eddie disappears for a bit and how it affects her (brief), mentions of worry when it comes to their relationship (both are aware they can only keep this hidden for so long which kind of fuels he choice at the end of this chapter), Eddie also kind of keeps his ex and marriage close to his chest (struggles to talk about it), we meet Paige's mom, Paige gets wasted and you take care of her, I think that's it. OH! Cliffhanger ending 😈 I LOVE YOU!

Word Count: 4608

Part 1/Donate to Me

2 weeks. 

It had been two weeks since you found out the man you had been intimate with was your roommate and friend’s father. Two weeks of silence even though you left him your phone number by his nightstand praying he’d call only to find out a few hours later that things were way more complicated than they should be. 

Two weeks of dreaming of his lips and hands roaming your skin while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you were. Two weeks of crying at night because you desperately missed the sound of his laugh and hated that life was so un-fucking-fair. 

Two weeks of misery. 

“I’m sorry, Paige.”, you murmured as you glared out the window. 

“Honey, it’s no problem. Your car was doomed to die sooner or later. I’m surprised it ran for as long as it has.”, your friend chuckles as she rubs your arm. “We’ll get through this, Y/N.”

Following the tow truck pulling your car, she lets out a heavy sigh as her head hangs seeing a face you both recognize as he steps out towards the vehicle and speaks with the driver before heading towards you both.

“What are you doing here? You’re normally off on Wednesdays.”, Paige growls as Eddie scans her over drying his hands on the rag from his back pocket.

“I’ve, um, been doing some overtime. What happened, sweetheart? Your car die?”

“No. My friend’s.”, she gestures towards you. 

Without looking your way, he nods and guides you both towards the garage before popping the hood.

“Go ahead and take a seat in the lobby. Y/N…was it? Can you stay and tell me what’s been going on with the vehicle?”

“Yeah, sure.”, you affirm, nodding towards Paige to assure her that you could handle yourself as she disappeared into the building. 

“Jesus Christ, I can already tell you this engine is shot.”, Eddie sighs as he leans under the hood. 

“Yeah, um, I’ve had it for years and it was my dads before that. It runs but sometimes if I go over a certain speed this part—”

“Careful!”, he shouts as he hastily grabs your hand before you can touch anything. 

Time seems to stop as his fingers connect with your skin. You didn’t realize how deeply you missed that feeling and when his eyes finally met yours you knew he felt it to.

“Don’t…don’t want you to get burned.”, Eddie mumbled as he let you go and turned back around. 

“I’ve been burned before.”, you sigh causing his head to hang. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“You’re right. I guess I don’t deserve an explanation or anything.”

His chocolate eyes glare your way before focusing on the parts in front of him once more. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, your fucking actions did.”, you growl. “I guess Paige was right about you.”

“Listen here, little girl.”, he grumbles as he stands up straight and points his finger at your chest. “You don’t know fucking anything about me or my family so I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Glaring his way, you take one step forward till the tip of his index was pressing hard into your skin. 

“You’re right, I don’t because you didn’t call and what you did fucking tell me was a lie.”

“I DIDN’T—“, he starts to shout before looking around, grabbing your wrist, and dragging you to an office in the back of the garage. “I didn’t lie.”

“You said you weren’t married.”

“I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

“Don’t play semantics with me!” As he starts to lift his hand to silence you, you shove his chest. “You said you were a boxer.”

“I AM a boxer.”, Eddie grunts with annoyance and as your eyes search his, you realize you’ve touched a nerve. 

“You made it sound like it was your career. You’re a fucking mechanic.”

“I’m working and training to make that my career. I work here to make money for my family.”

“That you left.”

The man steps towards closer till his nose is hover just above your own. 

“I said shut your fucking mouth. I love my daughter and I loved my wife before we separated. There are things Paige doesn’t know and I plan to keep it that way because what happened in our marriage should be between me and her mother. Even though she keeps dragging her into our business…”

Your gaze remains locked with his till a heavy sigh leaves your chest and an involuntary tear slides down your cheek. 

“You hurt me.”, your whisper causing his strong features to falter. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t even want to go on that stupid date but then I met you and we had a good time… I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. I hate that some of your cologne is still clinging to my fucking dress. I hate that I miss your lips and the way you made me feel—”

Abruptly, Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks and his mouth crashed to yours. Your arms circled around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, your fists clenching around his dirty jumpsuit. 

“I’m sorry.”, he murmured when he pulled back enough to allow you both to get some air. “I never meant to hurt you… I liked being with you to, sweetheart, and not just sexually, but this is wrong.”

“I know, Daddy, I know.” At your words, a strong groan leaves his lips as his forehead rests against yours. “H-Have you been thinking about me to?”

You knew it wasn’t right but you couldn’t help dropping into that headspace. You had felt so vulnerable these last couple of weeks and he had been the only man in a long time to make you feel cared for. To have him in front of you after missing him so much was making you needy and the desperate energy that was radiating from him wasn’t helping. 

“Why do you think I’ve been working so much overtime?”, he chuckles. “I needed a distraction because every waking moment I miss your face. I dream about you, Y/N.”

As he continues to speak, your hips grind against his allowing the prominent dent below his waist graze along your panty covered core. 

“I can smell your perfume on my sheets. When I’m training, I picture you watching me like you did when I first saw you. Sometimes—shit—sometimes I imagine I’m punching that fucking idiot that hurt you.” Eddie smiles when a breathy laugh leaves your lips. “When I’m on my bike, I wish you were holding me like you did on the ride back to the gym. Jesus, any chance to feel you’re your sexy legs wrapped around me…”

“Like this?”, you ask, lifting one of your legs around his waist. 

At the action, his head falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder, pressing himself harder against you as he rubs his crotch against your center. 

“Ah my god, baby.”, he whispers causing you to shutter as you try to pull him closer to you. “Fuck this.”

At Eddie’s abrupt grunt of annoyance, he pulls away enough to unzip his jumpsuit and push it down just below his waist. Your eyes take in the beads of sweat that cling to his muscular arms and chest, ready and willing to lick it off his skin if he wanted. After moving your panties to the side, he maneuvered his hips till his cock slid a bit roughly into your entrance. 

“Mmph—so big, Daddy. I missed having you inside me…so deep.”

His large palm gripped the back of your thigh, pulling it high up his waist while his open mouth kisses along your throat had your eyes rolling. 

“J-Just like that, baby, please. I need your cum. Please, cum with me.”

Rolling his hips, Eddie repeatedly slammed into that spongy spot inside at you, leaving you a trembling mess as you clung your arms around his neck and smothered your whimper in his shoulder as you came. 

It didn’t take him long to follow as he groaned and his fingers dug into your skin as his release coated your insides.

Neither of you moved as you panted in each other’s embrace. 

“Edward Munson!?”

At the sound of his name, you half expected him to jump away from you and adjust himself but when fingers gripped you tighter you were surprised. 

“Who is that?”, you whisper calmly.

“My boss.”, he replies in an equally lower register.

“Should you get back out there?”

When he nods, you begin to lower your leg but he just holds you tighter as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. 

“I don’t want to let you go.”, Eddie murmurs into your skin. “If I do…the reality of our situation comes back and…I don’t want that, Y/N.”

Your fingers tenderly thread through his hair as you duck your head so your lips can kiss his. 

“I know, baby, I know. I don’t know what to do though.”

“Me either.”

“EDWARD MUNSON!”

“YEAH! I’m fucking coming! Give me a goddamn minute!”, he shouts before backing away from you and adjusting your outfit. “Maybe…maybe we can just be friends…at least. I miss your voice…”

“Ok.”

Your eyes lock with his after watching him tie the upper half of his jumpsuit around his waist. 

“Ok.” Turning around, he grabs some paper off the desk behind him and writes down his phone number. “Text or call if you need anything or just want to talk. I’ll reach out to you later about your car. It’s going to take longer than a night to fix. Do either of you need a ride?”

“Oh, um, no. Paige and I followed the tow truck in her car so we can take that home.”

“Oh, pfft, that’s right. My brain sometimes...”

“I understand.”, you smile as you start to walk away but his hand around your wrist tugs you back as his lips lightly kiss yours again. 

“I just wanted to taste you one last time.”

“One last time.”, you repeat before turning to leave.

***

There were many “last times” over the next couple of months. 

You two couldn’t stay away from each other for long but you knew this was wrong so after every intimate moment or night spent together, you promised this would be it. Especially since, according to Paige, Eddie was trying to be more in her life.

“I’m trying to let him in more but with the divorce hearing and everything, my mom is flipping her lid. My graduate school is doing that exhibit for art students and I want them both to go but I don’t want it to be thing.”

“I understand, honey. This is a big deal for you and your work is amazing. All the attention should be on you. The few times I’ve talked with your parents, they seem like they can keep it together for one night.”

“Hm.”, she sasses as she rolls her eyes making you laugh. “You’ll be there right?”

“Of course. I’m taking the night off to be there.”

“Good.”, she sighs as she leans her head on your shoulder. “You can help be my referee.”

You smiled and nodded but that was the absolute last thing you wanted to be.

***

The smell of rubber and sweat promptly hit you as soon as you open the gym door with the key Eddie gave you. He had already moved into his new apartment but the metalhead liked to come by after work and train as much as he could. 

They gym itself closed around 8pm but the owner seemed to trust this particular boxer, allowing him to come and go at will. When you found him, you could vaguely hear the metal music that was blasting from his headphones as he punched the bag in front of him. 

Eddie’s eyes were zeroed in on his target as he continued to follow one swing with another. Sauntering to his phone on the edge of the ring, you couldn’t help but take in the picture of him and a much younger Paige on his lockscreen as he kissed her cheek while she smiled at the camera. They both looked so happy. 

Pausing his music, he angrily turned before realizing it was you and his gaze immediately softened. 

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you.”, panted as he removed his gloves and took out the earbuds. “Everything all right?”

With a half smile you flashed him his phone screen and he cautiously came over to sit beside you as he continued to try to get a read on what was going on inside your head. 

“I still remember when that was taken. Paige was about ten or eleven and the three of us went to a park to have fun. She lifted her arms in that boxing stance and took a couple of light swings.”, he chuckles. “That was a few months before I started training. I had mentioned to her how when I was her age I wanted to be a boxer. She encouraged me to try… I don’t know if she even remembers that after everything.”

“She’s worried about the exhibit this weekend. She’s afraid that you and your ex will fight and ruin a night that’s supposed to be about her.”

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut as he sighs and takes your hand in his. 

“I can understand why she would feel that way. My ex and I… I’ve tried so hard to…”, he stutters as he struggles to find the words. 

“I feel bad, Eddie.”, you whisper as his chocolate irises find yours. “She’s right. This should be about her but this is the first time I’m going to be in the same room with you two since my car broke down AND your ex, her mom, who I’ve met will be there…”

“Sweetheart, baby, come on. Everything’s going to be alright.”, he coos as he kisses your forehead. “Just be yourself and focus on Paige. I can handle the rest.”

############

“Calm down.”, you tease as you tug lightly on your roommate’s skirt as she dances in front of her artwork. 

“I’m calm! I’m calm. I’m just so excited.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie beamed as he sauntered towards Paige and reached down for a hug that she eagerly accepted. You knew she would be more open tonight because she was in such a good mood and the warmth that glowed from the metalhead as she wrapped her arms around him had you grinning from ear to ear. 

You liked seeing them both happy. 

“Hey there, Y/N.”, he greets politely as he tosses you a smile. “Geez, you both look gorgeous. I feel like I’m underdressed.”

Since you met him, you had never seen Eddie this dressed up and to you he looked as delicious as ever in his suit and tie with his hair pulled back out of his face. The man tried to control his eyes as they raked across you in your cute blue dress that rested just above your knees. 

“I think you look great, dad. Oh, there’s my professor. I’ll be right back! Y/N, show him my work.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he watched her excitedly bounce away before focusing on her art hanging on the wall. 

“Paige was always a really talented artist.”, he muses as he absorbs the image in front of him. “I, uh, I guess I see now why you didn’t make the connection that we were related.”, the man murmurs sullenly as he gestures towards her signature.

Paige Davis

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”, you whisper back wishing desperately that you could hold him. 

As the night wore on, you remained next to your friend while her father roamed the area occasionally sneaking glances at you from afar. He absolutely adored what a caring friend you were to his daughter knowing that’s exactly what she needed with everything going on in her life. 

He always hated that his ex insisted on telling Paige everything going on in their divorce even more so that he knew she was purposely omitting truths to make him look like that asshole. Eddie could do the same if he wanted to but he refused to stoop that low and not just because it was wrong to pull her into that but because he also knew how much Paige loved her mother. He knew how important it was to have her in his daughter’s life after losing his own at such a young age so he chose to allow the narrative to continue even if that made him the bad guy. 

He just prayed you didn’t see him that way either. 

The boxer hated having to hide you knowing a beautiful woman like you deserved to be lavished and seen. 

But what could he do?

Not only were you his daughter’s friend but he was going through a messy divorce, in-between careers, barely had an income, and he’d be lying if he didn’t say the age difference made him feel slightly insecure. 

Eddie accepted the way things were at the moment but he knew it couldn’t stay that way forever. 

“Paige, honey, oh my god, this is amazing.”, her mom squealed as you watched them both hug. “Hey, Y/N, how are you? You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ms. Davis.”, you awkwardly smile as she leans down to hug you as well. 

“Now, who do I speak with to buy this gorgeous work of art?”

“Mom. My professor has to review it first along with all the others.”, Paige whines.

“I mean, obviously, you’ll get a good grade.”

The smell of his cologne hits you before your friend’s nervous eyes do. 

“You know maybe Dominick would like it in his living room so we can show it off you know? Oh, hey Edward.”, her mother coos in a syrupy tone that has even you wanting to roll your eyes. 

“Ava.”, Eddie greets. “How are you?”

“Great! Absolutely wonderful.”

As the night progresses, something changes. Paige, who had been spending most of the night in front of her artwork, had vanished and you promptly went on the hunt for her before finding her in a bathroom stall. 

“Paige? Oh my.”, you sass as you inhale the smell of liquor wafting from her lips when you open the door to check in. 

“Hey, Y/N! My bes fer-en.”, she slurs. 

“Ok, how much have you had, honey? Don’t you still need to talk to your professor?”

“Pfft, no. I done. Uh oh…”, she chuckles before throwing herself over the toilet to vomit.

“Alright, sweetie. You’re ok. Get it all out.”

“My-my mom invited her boyfr-en. I mean…I guess he’s not technically her boyfr-en…I don’t know. Ma dad is gonna be pissed.”, she giggles as you help her to her feet and guide her to the sink to wash her hands and face. 

“Let’s talk about that later. Like you said, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“I don know why he be so angry. I think he has a girlfr-en or something. Plus, they haven’t been together for a year.”

You try to block out her words but it’s hard especially when you walk her out the door and are suddenly bombarded by the sound of yelling. 

“Tonight was supposed to be about her, Ava!”

“HEY! I’m only going to say this one more fucking time. Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that!”

“You don’t have any fucking say in this as far as I’m concerned! Now excuse me while I talk to the mother of my fucking child.”

“She’s not a child, Edward, and she doesn’t mind that I bring him. You’re the one that seems to be causing the problem and putting attention on yourself.”

“That’s right. Make me the fucking bad guy even though you’ve been parading him around in front of me the last couple of hours.”

The sound of your grunt as Paige collapses in your arms grabs their attention as all eyes turn your way. 

“I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…she’s drunk. I was just trying to get her to my car…”

“No, um, no worries, Y/N, I can take her.”

As the other man steps forward, you spin your friend out of his grasp. 

“I know them. I don’t know you.”, you growl. “All I know is that you being here upset her so I’m not letting you touch her.”

“Dom, it’s ok, baby.”, she calls his way before glaring at Eddie. “This your fucking fault.”

“She didn’t want him here, Ava.”

“No, you don’t want him here.”, she hisses before taking her boyfriend’s hand and heading to their car. 

Angerly, he stalks your way and collects his daughter in his arms. 

“I’ll follow you to your place and help you get her in bed.”, he grumbles, buckling her in before heading for his motorcycle.

***

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room before.”, he sighs with a smile as he looks around at all your things.

After getting Paige in bed, he took the opportunity and followed you across the hall into your bedroom. Eddie took solace in the fact that you were a bit messy like him, taking note of all the clothes on the floor and your bed half made. You had posters of different movies as well as some of your friend’s artwork that he immediately recognized. 

You watch as he picks up random items on your dresser including your perfume that he inhales and smirks at the familiar scent. 

“My parents.”, you answer when he flashes you a photo in a frame. 

“You look like them.”

“Eddie, why does her boyfriend make you so jealous?” 

At your question, he sighs as he places the image back down and turns to face you leaning against the furniture. 

“I don’t know.”, he shrugs. “Maybe it’s because we aren’t even fucking divorced yet and she’s calling him her boyfriend while talking about him like he’s the love of her fucking life.”

“You two aren’t divorced and you’re fucking me.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

His large chocolate eyes meet yours before coming around and descending to his knees in front of you. 

“Y/N, I did everything and I mean EVERYTHING to make my marriage work. It was never enough. To her…I had failed as a husband and she was…is…going to whatever she can to punish me for that.” As your gaze shifts to the floor, his fingers quickly grab your chin to bring your focus back to him. “Talk to me.”

“I think…the reason it’s different is because she can parade him around and claim him. You can’t do that with me.”

“I want to.”, he whispers. “More than anything.”

“But…”

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. It would fucking kill Paige if she found out but I know it’s killing you, sweetheart. You deserve to be seen and shown off.”

“Eddie…maybe, we—”

“Don’t. Please don’t say we should stop.”, he murmurs as his head falls into your lap and on impulse your hand comes up to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you, baby.”

Hearing your sniffles, he lifts his head and his palms cup your cheeks as he catches your tears with his thumbs. 

“No, princess, no. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here, baby girl. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Collecting you in his arms, you allow him to hold you as he continuous to whisper soft words of endearment and adoration. After a while, you allow him to undress you and make love to you; his palm clasped over your mouth to silence the screams that are on the edge of your tongue with every orgasm he pulls from you. 

“Can I stay? I promise I’ll leave as soon as the sun comes up.”, Eddie murmurs as he continues to trail gently pecks along your skin. “I just don’t want to let you go right now.”

You nod knowing “right now” will eventually come. You fall asleep in his arms and wake up alone but unlike other nights where you both had done this…this time kills you. 

#################

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he slams the phone a bit to roughly on the table in front of him. It had been a few days since he had heard from you and he was starting to get incredibly worried. Usually if you couldn’t talk, you would leave a little emoji or tell him you’d reply “ASAP” but since that night after his daughter’s exhibit, you would read his messages but never reply. 

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey…hey, Paige, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”, he grins as he tries to hide his pain so he can enjoy lunch with his daughter. They rarely did this anymore and he savored every moment he got. “How are you? Tell me everything.”

One of the many traits she got from him was her gift of gab. Once she started talking, she could go on and on and Eddie loved it. He absorbed everything she said and laughed whenever she would make a little joke at her expense. 

“Ugh and then Y/N’s got her own bit of chaos.”

At the sound of your name, he tried not to let the concern show on his face as he casually replied, “Oh yeah? What’s going on with her?”

“I guess her and that boxer guy she liked split or something. She spent the last couple of days just completely broken and sobbing. We’ve had a lot of girl’s nights filled with ice cream and movies.”, she giggled before sighing as Eddie’s heart breaks. 

You hadn’t said you wanted to stop seeing him, not directly, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything to make you think he wanted your relationship to end. He cared about you very much and hated not being around you or hearing from you. 

“And of course, guess who calls like dog who can sense that she’s upset? Her fucking ex. Oh shit, dad! Are you ok?!”

Eddie hadn’t realized that while Paige was speaking, his grip around his glass had gotten tighter and tighter until she mentioned your ex causing it to break under his grasp. 

“Huh? Fuck. Yeah, I’m fine.”, he replies as he reaches for napkins to clean up the mess. “So did they get back together or what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s had dinner with him a couple of times but I don’t think they are. She said she wanted to go slow and hear what he had to say. I mean they were together for a while.” 

“Yeah…well, shit. Good for her, I guess.”, he seethes. 

“Yeah. I told her I was going to your match on Saturday with my boyfriend and that she should come so I can vet him. See what he’s up to but she seemed skeptical about going. Maybe she’s afraid the boxer guy will be there to. Do you know who he is? She’s never told me his name.”

“Uh, no I don’t but tell her they both should come. The more the merrier and if that boxer guy shows up, I can kick his ass. Maybe we can all have dinner together and I can help you vet him.” 

Paige laughs when he lightly taps her hand.

“Won’t it be weird? You’ll be like a fifth wheel.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I can find someone to bring along. If you’re ok with that, of course.”

“Ok! Sounds like a plan. This is going to be interesting.”

She had no idea.

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot @alphabetically-deranged @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @yesimabratandwhataboutot @idkwhattoputhere08 @gryffindorqueensworld @mewchiili @veemoon @heavenlyhorrors @twirls827 @jamiecb66 @chelebelletx @longpondlibrary @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellv1ra @utterlyinsanity

[glitter-stained]

Jason Todd Meta: My opinion on the csa headcanon

Does Jason's behaviour suggest he was a victim of csa?

There is very little, in terms of clinical signs, that’s going to point to csa specifically, because most symptoms, for psychiatric disorders, aren’t specific to one disorder or cause. One thing that’s usually a good hint would be children making very sexual statements/references/jokes/behaviours that are very inappropriate in context (a good example of this would be Roman Roy from Succession); night terrors are bed wettings amongst children/teenagers over a certain age. But that is absolutely not necessary: many, if not most victims of csa don’t display these specific signs, and a twelve years old that suffers from night terrors is not necessarily a victim of csa. The one thing that tells you for sure, in a person with trauma, that they have been a victim of csa, is that they’re telling you they have been a victim of csa. I’m insisting on that part because there’s a whole bunch of therapists (cough cough psychanalysts) that will tell you confidently that your psychiatric symptoms stem from a childhood sexual trauma (cherry on top of the shit cake if it’s incestuous) that you didn’t know about because you’ve repressed it. I repeat, that’s bullshit. If you meet a clinician who tells you that, RUN. So, a warning: this is probably the least “psychological analysis” of my “Jason psychological analysis posts”, because Jason’s symptoms do not allow us to conclude formally for or against a history of sexual abuse. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do some meta, make sure we're on the same page with what's analyzed here, some textual analysis, discuss what the csa headcanon does and does not imply in terms of his behaviour. I think it’s a good idea to start with it so we know where we’re standing with our analysis, regardless of the fact it’s maybe not the most interesting in terms of psychopathology and neuropsychology.

A couple of disclaimers:

I only talk about the comics I want to talk about. This is for two reasons, which are that 1) I do what I want and if I don’t like/don’t find something interesting, I’m not gonna waste time on it; and 2) I’ve been reading comics for a couple of months only, and there are, like, a lot of them. If there are comics you wanna see analysed under that lense, feel free to suggest them! I might not want to, but it also could be that I haven’t read them yet. Additionally, I'm not interested in questioning the morality of Jason's actions here. Ethics are fun, and I like talking about them sometimes, and morality sometimes has a place in talks about demonization but largely speaking this isn't the space for that. I separate talk about morality and psychology stuff as much as I can for a reason, so if you are looking here for excuses for his behaviour or arguments as to why he is a bad person, you're in the wrong place. Moral judgement is irrelevant here for the most part.

On the events of Red Hood: Lost Days:

Jason has, at some point in the comics, been a victim of csa. When Talia kisses Jason before pushing him off a cliff right after he got out of the Lazarus Pit, and when she initiates sex with him in Lost Days, that’s not consent!! That’s a grown woman taking advantage of a traumatized teenager who is, on top of that, deeply indebted to her. That’s a predatory act, with a steep power imbalance, it’s sexual assault, and on top of that there’s an element of suggested pseudo-incest. That decision was retconned, and thank god, because it was a brutal assassination of Talia’s character based on a good bit of racism, and also because the way it was portrayed doesn’t make it clear that Jason is a victim in a situation rather than that super annoying trope of “teenage guy gets to bang a hot MILF and hahaha lucky him”, writing a male character in a situation of SA without acknowledging it as SA or taking it seriously is one of the tropes I hate most, it reinforces stigmatisation and isolates victims. For all of these reasons, I’m not gonna include that element in my analysis, but it’s important to note that if you do include those scenes in your conception of it, then Jason is undeniably a victim of csa and everything discussed about it applies to him.

What if it were a lie?

I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), I deeply, violently hate headcanons/tropes where a character lies about being a victim of csa (whether it’s for manipulation, personal gain, any reason really I don’t care). It’s rare as fuck in real life, however it’s a common trope that feeds into fear of being wrongfully accused that causes push-back and increases social stigmatization. CSA is a painful thing associated with intense feelings of shame and already a deep fear of not being believed. Imagine making a considerable effort to seek help after something terrible happened/is happening to you, and you have to brave your fear of not being believed on top of that, and once you’ve made all that effort you get rejected and villainized because it’s just easier for the person you’re reaching out to not to believe it. So I’m awfully weary of this type of headcanon, and I think a general rule of thumb is “if your interpretation of what the character is saying is that he’s talking about how he was abused, especially if he’s talking about sexual assault, then it happened.” If you don’t like that, if you don’t feel like that’s good representation, then you can question the story, think it should be retconned, or rethink your interpretation of what the character says if it’s ambiguous, but hcing that the character lied about his assault is not a hypothesis we’re going to accept here no matter what. So we can start by scratching that one out: Jason never lies about being a victim of csa, or wilfully hints at it even though that’s untrue, at any point.

Two other ideas I’ve seen floating around that I think are worth mentioning:

No, just because Jason lived in the streets as a kid doesn’t mean the only way he survived was through underage prostitution. I genuinely don’t understand that idea, yes being a street kid makes you extremely vulnerable, yes it makes the risk of resolving to underage prostitution to survive higher but it’s absolutely not a fatality. That idea is, quite frankly, weird. Do you automatically assume if a real life person tells you they were in the streets for some time at a kid that they are a victim of csa? Also, I've seen the idea go around that because some people have a strong reading/hc of Jason as bi (which I have no problem with I love bi Jason), that would be an argument in favour of the csa hc. Please don’t do that. There’s no link between queer sexual orientations and childhood sexual abuse, that’s a harmful myth that we should work to deconstruct or, at the very least, not continue to vehiculate.

Another important thing to keep in mind: childhood sexual abuse =/= childhood sexual trauma.

Now, a traumagenic situation is a situation that might induce trauma (so development of, acute stress disorder, ptsd, cptsd, derealization, any traumatic pathology really). These situations exist on a continuum of probability to be traumatized by this situation. For example, a flood, a car accident, witnessing a murder and being sexually assaulted are all traumagenic situations, but the probability of developing trauma from them are very different. It hinges on personal, situational, social, and environmental risk factors (that have nothing to do with being weak, anybody can develop trauma). A definition for traumagenic situations can be found in the diagnostic criteria for ptsd in the dsm-5:

A. “Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

1. Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s).

2. Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others.

3. Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental.

4. Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains; police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). Note: Criterion A4 does not apply to exposure through electronic media, television, movies, or pictures, unless this exposure is work related.”

Note that the this last criteria has been added from the DSM-5 in order to explain cases of PTSD observed in at-risk jobs like cops exposed to repeated detailed child abuse, first responders collecting human remains, or, crucially, vigilantes repeatedly exposed to brutal crimes. This means that Jason, when he works on the Dumpster Slasher case, when he is horrified to find Gloria in the immediate aftermath of her rape (and later finds her dead body, because witnessing the consequences of these traumatic events is also an important component of that second-hand trauma), is being exposed to a very traumagenic situation. As I said before, that doesn’t necessarily mean you will experience trauma (thank fuck for that), but there are factors that influence that. SA related situations has an already pretty high probability of inducing trauma. On top of that, age is a big factor in that: the younger you are, the less resources, emotional regulation, development and coping mechanisms to face the traumagenic event you have (though there is such a thing as “too young to have PTSD" -when your memory is simply not developed enough for the memory to traumatize you because you will not remember the event.) At fifteen, with his memory fully developed but his brain going through so much changes because of teenagehood and his past history, Jason would be at risk. On top of that, you’re more at risk to get traumatized if you’re already stressed out when the event happens, so Jason’s mental state at this point in his robin run is also a risk factor. All to say, it’s very plausible for Jason to have sexual trauma without being a victim of sexual abuse in relation to canon events. Besides, in headcanon territory when it comes to Jason’s childhood before Robin, there are so many ways to be exposed to sexual violence : witnessing/finding his mother being a victim (considering the position of extreme vulnerability Catherine was in), witnessing assault in the streets, being the victim of attempted SA and escaping, watching street kids get picked up and later find their bodies/being told by other kids, as a cautionary tale, in excruciating detail, testimonies of their own assault… Or for example, if we’re thinking about Arkham Knight, being constantly threatened with SA, it being hinted and joked about and hanging over him like a sword of Damocles is something I could see Joker and other inmates do that could definitely induce sexual trauma even if it doesn’t happen ; what matters most, in trauma, is that the fear is real. Mechanically, when we’re looking at the way trauma works even on a biological level, the overwhelming fear is at the core of the pathology. (This is also why you can develop PTSD after a psychotic episode.) Like, my point isn’t that one of these things happened to Jason, or that he has to have sexual trauma from the events of the Diplomat’s Son or anything -mostly just that this is a possibility, something very serious that happens and an important nuance that I never see in discussions on the csa headcanon, and while it’s not exactly what the debate is about, I think it’s something important to ponder.

Do you consider the csa hc to be canon?

So, there are a lot of Jason stories, and I’m very pro “not take in account what is said in comics you dislike in your conception of canon” because if I did that absolutely no bat character would be readable, I have to believe that no character is defined by their worst writers. And boy, does Jason have a lot of bad writing… On top of the personal retcons, there are also the canon retcons: like Battle for The Cowl is retconned… Unless someone decides to reinject/revamp it into the narrative (please don’t please don’t it’s irrecuperable let it lay with the Flying Todds where it belongs). So, let’s see. There are three writers/arcs that imply/mention the csa hc: Starlin’s writing of Jason’s post-crisis Robin Run (canon though some stuff in it seems to have been retconned), Winick’s writing in Green Arrow: Seeing Red (canon as far as I know), and Battle for the Cowl (retconned). It’s worth noting that one of those are considered to be foundational works for Jason’s character (Jason’s post crisis Robin Run and Starlin’s part in it), and another was written by Winick, who wrote the other two foundational Jason stories: Under The Red Hood and Red Hood: Lost Days. On a personal level, I’m very mitigated about what I like and accept about it. I base my whole love and characterization of Jason about his post-crisis Robin Run, I love that little guy so much, Starlin’s take on Jason’s Robin Run is absolutely canon to me (which does not mean I like Starlin as a writer, thank you very much). On the other hand of the spectrum, the only reason Battle for the Cowl isn’t my least favourite comic ever is because The Killing Joke exists, absolutely not canon, get this thing away from me. And then in the middle, my feelings on Seeing Red (on the entirety of Winick’s Jason really) vary depending on the day, because I do like a revenge story that challenges the status quo with tropes of “bad victim” and it sets up Jason as a character based on love rather than morals which I adore, but there are also some elements of psychophobia in the writing that I (who approach stories through the filter of psychopathology first and foremost) can’t just look past, and also the way it intertwines with classist stereotypes. So do I consider Seeing Red to be canon? In good faith, yes, but whether I’ll accept it as such really depends on the day. In terms of the csa headcanon: it’s heavily hinted in BTFC but not outright said, it’s there as a undercurrent in Starlin’s run because of his intention (to make Jason die of AIDS). And then we have Seeing Red. Basically Jason lists elements about Mia’s life, including her past with underage prostitution (so, just to be very clear, csa), and says they’re very similar, having both lived on the streets, and understand having to do bad things when it’s necessary. This is not the same as saying “I was a victim of csa”, and what he’s saying could be interpreted differently (we know that he was stealing tires, and “only what he needs to survive”, so he could have been referencing small-time theft.) So, it could be a reference to something else, I totally understand why some people want to interpret differently. It just… Feels like such a weird and weak argument to be equating boosting tires to underage prostitution, to me it’s very ooc (in comparison to UTH Jason), and it would feel like weak writing from someone like Winick. Aka it’s not technically canon, and you don’t have to accept it as such(I understand the mentality of "I'm rejecting this interpretation because it feels like demonization of csa victims" perfectly), but personally I think it takes a lot from Jason’s character in Seeing Red and from this story in general.

[lunajay33]

Why Me? Part.2

•🤎🐺🪵🍂🌑•

Summary: Bella and Y/n are twins but when Bella and Renee moved away you stayed with Charlie always growing closer with the people around La push, but when Bella comes back it’s like everything is flipped around, Bella becomes distant obsessed with the cullens, you find solace with the guys at the beach but things change after the first year and suddenly you’re all alone, will anyone come back, will Paul your best friend, your forever crush come save you from depression

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

Warnings: Depression

Part.1

•Masterlist•

Song Suggestion: Heartbeat by Nessa Barrett

Hopping down from the wolf I make my way closer to the house but before I can enter strong warm arms wrap around me I know who it is instantly

“Paul” I choke out before crumbling to the ground in tears for the second time this night , the cold ground meeting my knees his arms still secure around my hips hind chest pressing against my back hearing his cries along with mine

“Why did you leave me” I scream letting myself feel everything I’ve gone through the last month

“I’m so sorry Angel, please give me a chance to explain”

“But you hurt me so badly” my cries settling a bit seeing Sam and Emily come out the house worried

“Please I’ll do anything please” he was begging and he never begged, I nodded warily, he picked me up effortlessly and brought me into the house setting me back on the couch Emily and Sam lingering near obviously knowing what’s going on

“Is this normal Sam? For the bond to cause her these emotions to such an extent?” Paul asked from over his shoulder as he was kneeled infront of me his hands never leaving mine

“The bond can cause despair when separated but to this extent for her to be physically ill must mean you have a much deeper connection than just the bond, you can’t leave her again Paul we don’t know what could happen” the talked like I wasn’t right here and they made no sense

“What’re you guys talking about, you said you’d explain”

“I will but…….y/n how could you try to kill yourself, that would’ve devastated everyone, to lose the most precious being to walk this town”

“It was too much Paul, with you gone and Bella being preoccupied by Edward and Jacob with Bella I was alone and it just grew the pit in my heart” I sighed feeling the emotions of the day finally drain me

“Never again, I’ll never leave but what I’m going to tell you is gonna be a lot”

He told me everything, how he and Sam were wolves how it ran in their blood and only came out when vampires appeared, their truce with the cullens how I had to keep everything a secret, but most of all how I was Paul’s imprint and why he had to stay away to protect me

Everything suddenly made sense but it didn’t make it hurt any less

“Are you okay Angel?” Paul asked after the long pause that lingered in the air

I sucked in a quick sharp breath just registering everything

“But what now, will I get better, what about us what’re we now?”

“You’ll get better in time as long as we keep seeing eachother, and like I said I’ll be anything you need, your best friend, your protector, your boyfriend”

“I wanna be with you Paul, I can’t lie about it anymore, it’s always been you since day one” his warm hand caressed my cheek making some of the pain go away

“I knew it would always be you, but you have to promise to never do what you almost did tonight, even though I hate those blood suckers I’m glad he saved you in time, cause I’m never letting you go again” his head pressed against mine our lips so close

“I love you Paul”

“I love you too always”

Get home at 12 am felt different, my conscience was clear once again, me and Paul stand in the back yard as he walked me home I guess, I rode on his back as he walked in his wolf form, it was all crazy really, my best friend a shapeshifting wolf

“Can you stay the night maybe? I just don’t want you to go just yet” i ask fiddling with his fingers

“You go up to your room open the window I’ll be up”

I ran up the stairs as lightly as I could in hope to not disturb dad or Bella who was probably accompanied by Edward, then being vampires didn’t scare me atleast not them they were nice especially alice Jasper and Emmett

I flipped on my lamp and opened the window looking down to see Paul quickly climbing up the house and right through the window

“So you’re super human too”

“Still got your humour” he smiles as he huffs spreading out in my bed like usual when he comes over

Changing into pajamas and joining him in bed, it wasn’t weird we’ve been doing this kind of thing since kids

“I’ve missed this” I sighed curling up into his radiating warmth compared to the cold sheets that replaced him when he was gone

“You have no idea how much I wanted to come to you every night and make sure you were okay, it killed to have to stay away from my mate, my best friend” he sighed running his hands through my hair

“You’ll be here when I wake up right?” Worried he’ll be gone and this was all just a dream

“Always”

And he was for the rest of my life he was there every morning

Taglist: @lilredcamaro14 @cvmtitss @larissa01-blog2 @evanpetersmood @xocellyy @sbrn0905

[pixeltwix]

⚠️Emma May & Ciphertology⚠️

-Backpacking off of my theory from yesterday!! Very long text post incoming-

I’m of the mind where not only do I believe Emma May’s family was in a cult, but that they continued to practice its teachings after being disbanded. From here this is just my own personal ramblings as I have a very long and personal take on Emma May and Fiddleford’s lives and history as a whole and separately. Today will be dedicated to Em’s side (ft her families designs as well :3 )

Emma May’s father, Dale Dixon, is the older brother of Madeline Dixon- the teenage girl who was one of the first to be swayed by this Silas Birchtree. It’s implied she fell for him in place of her boyfriend at the time, but I choose to believe this was a lingering affection she’d keep for life in her worship.

Being a young man at the birth, peak, and end of Ciphertology already with a wife and children, Dale was too closely wooed by the teachings of Silas and the inter-dimensional being that was Bill Cipher. He was a bit of a cult kiss ass, if you will. He’d be the first to do whatever Silas would suggest or order of the cults people and the man was happy to do it. Be it shaving his head and painting on an eye or attempting to build the portal he had zero qualifications for alongside everyone else.

Naturally after the cult was disbanded and everyone was put into witness protection, while Dale accepted the state relocation for his family (to Virginia) he refused any government aid beyond that. Instead dragging his young family and sister into the woods where he constructed a shabby little home for them. A home where no one would contradict his word and he could continue the teachings of Ciphertology.

Emma May was born only a few short years later. And while her father had already named one of her older brothers as a namesake to his idol, Silas, her mother named her in turn for her secret idol, Emmaline Butternubbins. She knew Dale would never accept the original name, so she did what she could to compromise- it was a cope of sorts. Thelma Lou, Em’s mother, unfortunately has no say in her husbands madness and is slowly being broken down to the cult. While she had some resistance when Em was born it wouldn’t last too terribly long as soon every adult figure in the family believed in Ciphertology.

Growing up in the middle of nowhere Appalachia’s, Emma May didn’t have much outside influence other than the mini cult community her father had created over the years within neighboring people. She knew no different than the madness and basic cult ideas of ‘have as many kids and wives as you want just so we can create more followers’ sort of mindset. The only hiccup was that Emma May was never dumb, she wasn’t so easily swayed by the triangles teachings, she always internally questioned everything- no matter what adult was telling her things she always was left with a feeling of ‘is that really true though?’

She kept such thoughts to herself, assuming she wouldn’t have to actually do anything notable within the cult, she was shocked and horrified when at the age of 15 her father was bringing her before an older man to marry. An older man who already had a handful of wives. She knew even if she was older she wouldn’t want this life, seeing upfront her mothers decay in the cult and the mass of siblings that she had..she didn’t want that. She wanted an education, basic rights, and just? Freedom from this. She didn’t know if the outside world would be different, but at that point she didn’t much care. She wanted out and she needed out fast.

Running away from home before the official marriage ceremony she remains on the run until she makes it to Fredericksburg, VA. A bustling friendly town that otherwise left her feeling like she was in an alien world. She looked straight out of the early 1900s in a wave of hip and groovy late 1960’s styles. While she couldn’t read anymore than simple words she skimmed through the phone book of a nearby cafe, and while unable to find any Dixon outside of her indoctrinated family she found hope in searching for names under her mothers maiden name, ‘Finch’. 

Discovering a man in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey, by the name of Benjamin Finch she manages to find her mothers estranged brother. A man her mother was forced to shun and block out the second he expressed concern over her involvement in a cult. Thankfully upon learning who she was he was more than happy to shelter her, albeit he only lived in a trailer as he practically lived in the museum he worked at. Making her way up the East coast, Emma May finds herself in Jersey, her uncle slowly acclimating her to modern life. Teaching her how to read, to write, and most importantly teaching her the reality of the world. Luckily he wasn’t a religious man of any sorts and rooted her in modern thoughts of science, feminism, and other new age ideas of the time.

Once he felt she was ready he let her attend Glass Shard High, getting the education she always wanted despite struggling to understand the basics. This didn’t get her down though as she was determined to graduate someday. Instead she tracks down local nerd and idea enthusiast, Stanford Pines, someone she hardly finds to be ‘a freak’ considering her cultish upbringing was beyond bizarre (plus she learned from an early age to find beauty in the ‘odd’ or ‘weird’) Befriending a young Ford and learning from him she also befriends Stan, someone who was more than willing to help her break out of her docile and dainty shell. Stan’s girlfriend at the time, Carla McCorkle was equally happy to teach her the modern idea of feminine rather than beaten to death old book concepts. Living in Jersey, in short, was slowly thawing her from the confines of her upbringing- developing into the life she always wanted and frankly? She was thriving!

She was also gaining her own beliefs in this time. Such as ‘marriage is stupid’ and ‘having kids is stupid, I’m never going to have them’ sort of mindset. Thanks to her upbringing she swore then and there that she would never have a family of her own. So, that’s what makes her next phase of life particularly ironic.

After the science project incident in senior year between the Pines brothers the friend circle would face a brutal falling out, the only one keeping in touch with everyone being Emma May herself. Stan is kicked out and the brothers aren’t talking, Carla breaks up with Stan and refuses any more connection to the Pines, and Em is left in limbo to comfort and appease everyone whilst ignoring her own feelings about it all. Between the late night girl talks with Carla, keeping Ford off the edge, and letting Stan stay with her in the trailer it was only a matter of time before her juggling attempts would fall.

And that’s exactly what happened- after Ford discovers she’s been harboring Stan he can’t help the rush of anger, insecurity, and betrayal that someone he considered his only friend left to hide that from him. Also afraid of losing a friend who’s done so much for her in her cult unlearning she’s quick to prove her loyalty. Packing her bags after graduation she joins Ford to Backupsmore to continue supporting him, taking up a diner job beside campus and shacking up in a cheap apartment. She continues secretly offering Stan money when she can as she still feels guilt for her decision, but it becomes less frequent as she’s now supporting herself financially on her own.

But of course her sole company of Ford wouldn’t last forever. Especially when all she tends to hear from him is how cool his roommate is and how’s he’s thrilled to be around another intellectual mind for once. And while he was hesitant to introduce his two friends to one another it was quick history after that-

Em absolutely deals with a lot of survivors guilt and general fear (lots of ‘I can’t believe I left my younger siblings behind, what if thEY were forced to marry that man in my place?!’ and ‘what if the cult tracks me down and forces me back home?!’) and on top of that I already feel she’s got some religious based ptsd and some bpd in there as well, but I think that would make her more endeared to Fiddleford when they first meet. A man who was pretty open about his own anxiety and ocd (idk if that’s a popular hc, but him having ocd makes so much sense to me) definitely helped her understand herself better and the two of them absolutely developed ways to help one another with it. They become each other’s safe spaces essentially <3

I feel like all of this is something I could talk about for hOURS, but I feel I’ve already typed up enough for today. So take this all as you will :) it’s just been super fun rewriting the story I had for her. I always envisioned her to be a teen runaway and living with her estranged uncle in Jersey, but now it makes even more sense plugging in my cult theory. But anywho, I hope this was an enjoyable for y’all to read as it was for me to type

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[wcnderlnds]

something about you | draco malfoy

Summary: After a rough week, you have one two many butterbeers and get help from the last person you’d expect. Warnings: being tipsy?? Word Count: 1.4k Authors Note: this is a repost from my old account. i wrote it in 2020 so its not the best but i wanted it on this account to keep all my best fics in one place <3

Weekends meant Hogsmeade trips which were your favourite part of the week. There was nothing like getting out of the school grounds for a bit after a hectic week of classes. As much as you loved Hogwarts, it was nice to get away from the chaos of the castle sometimes even if it was only for a few hours. It was even nicer after a stressful week and to say this week had been stressful was an understatement. Right from the get go everything had seemed to be going wrong. You’d managed to forget your potions homework which had resulted in detention then, because of that, you’d missed your date with Seamus. It hadn’t been that big of a deal — it wasn’t like your relationship was serious but you had liked him. It wasn’t enough for you to be upset when he asked if you could just stay friends instead but it did put you in a foul mood. It seemed that every time you had something good planned the world tried it’s best to disrupt it. So, the trip to Hogsmeade was needed. Very needed.

Usually, you tagged along with the golden trio but you decided to go solo today telling them that you’d meet them for a drink later on before you all headed back to the castle. As you walked through the main road, you spotted Draco Malfoy and his goons harassing some third year. You and Draco hadn’t really interacted much other than the casual ‘hello’ here and there but he’d always been rather polite around you so why couldn’t he be like that with everyone else? You knew your friends had an issue with him and couldn’t blame them but you had nothing against him. So far he’d done nothing to you but it did annoy you to see him bullying a poor, defenceless boy just trying to enjoy a day out.

“Hey, come on. Leave him alone,” you said walking up to where the incident was happening. Goyle was the first to hear you, turning to face you with the ugliest sneer on his face.

“Back off. This is none of your business,” he said gruffly.

“What exactly has he done to deserve you bothering him? Just leave him alone. You’re a sixth year and he’s a third. Pick on someone your own size.”

“I said back off.”

“Goyle! That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Draco had finally spoken up, glaring at his friend. “Since you asked so kindly, we’ll let little Roger here be on his way.”

“Thank you,” you gave Draco the tiniest of smiles as little Roger ran past mouthing a ‘thanks’ to you.

With that all sorted out, you went on your way not noticing the youngest Malfoy watching you as you did. He’d always found you intriguing. Honestly, he’d always wanted to strike up a conversation with you but since you were in two completely different houses and he had a reputation to maintain, he opted for mostly ignoring you and trying to be civil. Part of him really hated the fact that he couldn’t just do the things he wanted to but he couldn’t take any chances of his father hearing about him doing such things. Befriending someone outside of Slytherin house was frowned upon so keeping his distance was his only option but little did he know that was about to change.

“Barkeep, another!” You yelled out earning funny looks from Harry, Ron and Hermione as you slammed your glass down on the table. You’d been sat with them for half an hour now and had already thrown back about four butterbeers. They didn’t even know how many you’d had before they’d arrived but it was safe to say that with the way you were acting, you were pretty darn tipsy.

“Maybe you should make this your last one,” Hermione suggested, reaching out to place her hand on yours in a comforting manner. “I know you’ve had a tough week but if you want to talk then I’m here.”

All you did was shoot her a big, toothy grin in thanks as your new drink was placed in front of you. “It’s not like I’m sad or anything. I just… need to blow off some steam, you know? When have you known me to get tipsy off butter beer anyway? It’s just one time. It’s fine.”

After another half an hour, Harry declared that he wanted to go back to the castle — Hermione and Ron agreed. They tried to get you to go with them but you refused telling them you’d make your own way back. Harry had tried to pull you up and drag you with them knowing you weren’t exactly sober but you were too stubborn to budge. Ron had somehow convinced them you were smart enough to know what you were doing and with that they left.

It was one drink later when you’d finally decided you’d had enough, getting up out of your seat. But, you’d stood up too fast and with the butterbeer in your system it didn’t help one bit, the whole room spinning. You gripped the chair with one hand to steady yourself.

“You doing okay?” A familiar voice asked you. Your eyes glanced up to meet none other than Draco’s.

“I’ll be honest, blondie, I might have drank a little too much,” you said and couldn’t help but grin at him.

“I can tell.” He pondered for a moment almost having an internal battle with himself before he decided he had to be a decent human being and help you out. “Here,” he said, grabbing your jacket nd helping you put it on. He held his arm out for you. You didn’t even argue lacing your arm through it so he could help you back up to the castle.

The first few moments were silent until you spoke up curious as to why Draco Malfoy of all people was helping you out. “Got a feeling you don’t really do this much especially when I caught you bullying a poor innocent boy earlier.”

“You’d be right but contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a decent guy. I have manners and know when to not leave a lady alone in your state,” he mumbled.

“I’m not that drunk, you know. Just tipsy.”

“Tipsy enough for me to be concerned and it takes a lot to concern me. Why’d you even drink that much anyway? It takes a lot of butterbeers to get anyone drunk. Rough day?”

“Try rough week.”

“Is this about that imbecile Seamus? You can do much better,” Draco pulled a disgusted face at the mere sound of his name coming out of his mouth. At your confused look, he went on to explain. “I was walking past when you two were having a chat. Complete idiot he is if you ask me.”

A little laugh passed by your lips. “Don’t hide how you really feel. But, yeah and no. He and I weren’t even really together. It was just an culmination of things coming together all week. I’m fine, though.”

He looked at you to examine your face for any signs that you were lying but he couldn’t find any. You really did seem okay which was a relief to him. The last thing he wanted was to have some deep hearted conversation. It was a shock to him and you that he was even talking to you as much as he was.

Silence took over again as you reached the castle. Although, you didn’t want to admit it being in his company felt nice. Natural, even. You felt comfortable even when it was silent. There wasn’t any awkwardness. If you didn’t know any better you’d think you actually liked being in Draco’s company. He liked being in yours too but he was nowhere near comfortable enough to admit that.

“Thanks for walking me back. You’re alright, Malfoy,” you gave him a playful nudge with your shoulder causing a slight grin to form on his face. Funny, you’d never really seen him smile before. It looked good on him.

“You too. I meant it, by the way. You can do much better than most of the boys in this retched school.”

“Are you about to make some overly dramatic speech and ask me out?”

This time a large, hearty chuckle came from him and you couldn’t help but feel a little hint of butterflies start up that you’d been the one to get that out of him. Draco shook his head. “You wish but who knows what the future holds, eh? See you around.

With a wink, he headed on into the castle. Well, now you couldn’t wait to bump into your new favourite Slytherin more often.

[simpxmachina]

NEW BOT

╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker

🔪 + 🫀 = ☆ bloodthirsty ☆

cai

harper spiller - OLIVE BRANCH

Growing up, you had always looked up to Cameron. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you believe that, despite his occasional harshness, he was a model of success and strength. He was your older brother, after all. To you, he seemed invincible, someone who commanded respect without ever needing to demand it. You admired him, respected him, and above all, you wanted to be seen by him—not just as his younger sibling, but as someone worthy of his attention and approval.

The earliest memories you had of him were filled with laughter, and the smell of barbecue drifting up from the backyard where your family would gather. Cameron, back then, would toss a ball your way, not really playing but letting you chase it as if you were his shadow. He never treated you with overt cruelty as a child. Instead, it was more insidious, the way he would, just by his silence, make you feel small and insignificant. He never said anything outright that would hurt, but when he did speak, you could tell that his words, always carefully chosen, were meant to remind you of your place.

You didn’t understand it back then. How could you? He was your brother. You were supposed to look up to him, follow his lead. And for years, you did.

The first crack in the illusion came when you started to carve your own path, when you began to make something of yourself. Modeling was never something you planned for, but the moment the opportunity came, you leaped at it. It was exhilarating—meeting powerful people, being part of campaigns that made headlines. At first, Cameron seemed supportive, like a proud older brother, but as your success grew, so did the distance between you.

He began to dismiss your career. Instead of congratulating you on your achievements, he made little comments, casual remarks that carried the sting of contempt. "Is this really what you want to be known for?" he asked once, his eyes narrowed over a glass of whiskey, the slight wrinkle between his brows deepening as if the idea of you becoming a successful model was somehow beneath him. "How long are you going to keep doing this?" It wasn’t about the work, though. It was about the fact that you were no longer the naïve younger sibling who followed in his footsteps, no longer the person he could easily look down on.

But you didn’t notice the shift immediately. At first, you didn’t see it at all. You were still blinded by the love you had for him. You wanted him to be proud of you, wanted him to see you as an equal. But Cameron never saw you as anything but an annoyance, something he had to tolerate.

You began to notice the little things. The way he dismissed your ideas, the way he never included you in the important decisions, the way he referred to your modeling career as “just a phase.” But there was one thing that really struck you—the way he talked about Harper.

It started slowly, a comment here and there, usually disguised as a joke. "You really think this... woman’s going to be the one?" he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "She’s nice enough, I suppose, but how much longer before she realizes that she could do better?"

But it wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t funny. It was an insult. And it became apparent that, in Cameron’s eyes, Harper—your wife, the woman you loved—was something beneath him. To him, she was an obstacle, an intrusion into his carefully constructed world. As you became more serious with Harper, the cracks in your relationship with Cameron grew. He began to openly dismiss her presence, make snide comments about her background, and even go so far as to suggest you were settling for someone "low class."

And you? You were too naïve to see it at first. You thought it was just sibling rivalry. You thought maybe he didn’t understand, that he was just being protective, but you couldn’t see that his disdain for Harper was a reflection of something much deeper. Cameron didn’t just dislike Harper—he resented her. Resented the way she had something he never would: your undivided attention, your loyalty, your love.

The invitation to Italy came with promises of family bonding, a chance to repair old wounds, to bring the family back together. It seemed like an olive branch from Cameron, but you couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it. A part of you sensed that his motives weren’t as pure as they appeared. You had long suspected that Cameron never really wanted a true reconciliation, but instead, he was looking for something else—something that had little to do with family and everything to do with control.

You and Harper arrived at the White Lotus Hotel in the heart of Italy, a place so lavish and beautiful that it made everything else feel insignificant. The sprawling gardens, the sparkling pool, the endless vistas of the Mediterranean—everything here screamed opulence and wealth. Everything, except for the tension that you and Harper couldn’t shake.

Cameron and Daphne were already there when you arrived. They greeted you with a certain air of cold politeness, their smiles just a little too practiced. You could feel the difference between how they treated you and how they treated Harper. With you, there was a strained familiarity. With Harper, there was the kind of insincerity that made you wonder if they even truly wanted her there at all.

Harper, of course, noticed it immediately. While you were busy taking in the sights and sounds of the hotel, Harper’s perceptiveness picked up on the subtle slights, the barely-there glances, and the tight smiles. She could feel it—the weight of being treated like an outsider in a place that should have felt like home. She had always been the type to put on a brave face, to swallow the harshness of people’s words, but here, in this hotel, surrounded by your family, it was different. Cameron’s eyes, as cold as ever, were trained on her, as if analyzing her every move, every word. Daphne’s insincerity was palpable, a smile that never reached her eyes, a politeness that never felt genuine.

"Y/n, darling, come here," Daphne called from the patio as she gestured for you to join them. You were standing a few feet away, talking with Harper, and immediately noticed her discomfort at the invitation. You shot her a glance—an unspoken question in your eyes. She simply nodded, her lips curving into a tight smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

You smiled back at Harper, wanting to reassure her, but there was a growing ache in your chest. You didn’t know how to make it better. You didn’t know how to fix this, the gap that was forming between you, the way Harper was withdrawing into herself more and more, the way Cameron and Daphne seemed to be pushing her away without so much as a second thought.

"You’re fine, go ahead," Harper said, her voice soft but firm. "I’ll be here."

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded and made your way to the patio. The conversation shifted immediately, from lighthearted to calculated. Cameron’s voice was sharp, like a blade wrapped in velvet, as he casually commented on the beauty of the location.

"I’m glad you could finally join us, Y/n. This place is perfect, don’t you think? Not that it’s your style, Harper, but I’m sure you’re doing fine here," he said, his words loaded with double meaning. Cameron was a master of subtle insults, and he was very good at pretending to be the perfect host while undermining those he deemed inferior.

You could feel the atmosphere grow heavier with each passing minute. The elegant beauty of the White Lotus, the luxury, the perfection—all of it felt suddenly hollow, like a facade waiting to crumble.

Harper, from a distance, watched. And though she said nothing, you could see it in her eyes—the way she tried to hide her discomfort, the way she tried to smile through the pain. She didn’t belong here, not in the way Cameron and Daphne wanted her to. To them, she was an outsider. To you, she was everything.

---

The days at the White Lotus drifted by like a dream dipped in venom. The sunlight sparkled on the cerulean waves of the Mediterranean, and the scent of salt and lemon blossoms hung heavy in the air. Every corner of the hotel promised indulgence, from the infinity pool that melted into the horizon to the lush gardens bursting with color. It should have been paradise. But for you and Harper, it felt like something else entirely—a trap, carefully laid by Cameron and Daphne, and you were only beginning to sense the snare tightening around your ankles.

Cameron had always been a master at veiled manipulation. He never attacked outright, not in a way you could call out. Instead, he worked in the shadows, planting tiny seeds of doubt, the kind that took root in the quiet spaces of your mind and sprouted when you were most vulnerable.

It started over breakfast, the morning sun pouring in through the arched windows of the dining terrace. You had risen early, craving the coolness of the morning air before the Italian heat became oppressive. Harper had stayed behind in the suite, enjoying a rare moment to herself. When you arrived, Cameron was already there, lounging back in his chair, a casual arrogance in the way he sipped his espresso. Daphne sat beside him, her hair a perfect cascade over her shoulders, her smile wide and warm—too warm.

“Y/n,” Cameron said, leaning forward slightly as you took your seat. “We were just talking about you and Harper. How’s everything going between you two?”

There was nothing inherently wrong with the question, but his tone set you on edge. You reached for the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup as you tried to gauge his intent. “Good,” you replied simply. “We’re doing great.”

“Of course you are,” Cameron said, his grin sharp as a knife. “I mean, look at you. Successful career, beautiful wife. You’ve really... come a long way, haven’t you?”

The way he said it made your stomach twist. It wasn’t a compliment; it was a reminder. A reminder of the pedestal he had always put himself on, and the shadow he believed you’d always live in.

Daphne chimed in, her voice light and melodic, but her words carried their own weight. “Harper’s such a strong woman,” she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. “It must be hard for her, though, being around people like us. I mean, we’ve just... lived a certain kind of life, haven’t we, Cameron?”

Cameron chuckled, a low, smug sound that made your teeth clench. “True. It’s a different world for her, isn’t it? But, hey, credit to Harper for trying to fit in.”

“She doesn’t need to fit in...” you said in a small voice but still heard. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, both Cameron and Daphne stared at you, their expressions unreadable. You felt your heart racing, the blood pounding in your ears.

But the damage was done. The seed was planted. You didn’t want to admit it, but their words lingered in your mind long after breakfast. They weren’t wrong—Harper was different. She didn’t come from the kind of wealth or privilege that you and Cameron had grown up with. She didn’t have the polish or the connections that Daphne wore like armor. But that was part of why you loved her. Harper was real in a way they could never understand. So why did their words make you feel like you had to defend her?

And that evening, the four of you gathered on the terrace for dinner, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Harper sat beside you, her hand resting lightly on your knee, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. She had been quiet all day, her responses clipped and her smile forced. You couldn’t blame her. Cameron and Daphne had a way of making her feel like an outsider without ever saying it outright.

“So, Harper,” Cameron said, swirling his wine in his glass. “How’s work going? Still doing the whole... legal thing?”

“It’s going well,” Harper replied, her tone measured. “I’ve been focusing more on pro bono cases lately. It’s fulfilling work.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Pro bono, huh? That’s... admirable. Not very lucrative, though, is it?”

“It’s not about the money,” Harper said, her voice firm. “It’s about helping people who don’t have anyone else to fight for them.”

Daphne leaned forward, her smile saccharine. “That’s so noble of you, Harper. I don’t know if I could do that. I mean, I’d want to help, of course, but it must be exhausting. And, well, not everyone has the luxury of giving up a big paycheck, right? You’re so lucky, Y/n, to be able to support her like that.”

You saw the flicker of anger in Harper’s eyes, the way her grip on her wine glass tightened ever so slightly. But she didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she gave a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of her wine.

The rest of the dinner passed in a haze of thinly veiled insults and polite conversation. You could feel Harper withdrawing, pulling further and further away, and you hated it. You hated that she had to endure this, hated that you couldn’t protect her from it. But most of all, you hated the little voice in the back of your mind that whispered nonsence.

---

As you lay in bed beside Harper, the silence between you felt heavy, oppressive. She had her back to you, her shoulders tense beneath the thin sheet. You reached out, your hand hovering over her back for a moment before you let it fall.

“Harper,” you said softly. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond right away. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten. “Do you ever think about why Cameron invited us here?”

You frowned, propping yourself up on one elbow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel like he actually wants us here,” she said, turning to face you. Her eyes were dark, shadowed with hurt. “It feels like he’s testing us. Testing me.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, you knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Cameron had always been competitive, always eager to prove his superiority. Inviting you and Harper to the White Lotus wasn’t an act of generosity—it was a power play. But admitting that felt like a betrayal, not just of Cameron, but of yourself.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said finally, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them. “He’s just... Cameron. You know how he is.”

“Exactly,” Harper said, her voice sharp. “I do know how he is. And I know he’s trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“That’s not true,” you said, sitting up. “Cameron wouldn’t do that. He’s my brother.”

Harper sighed, running a hand through her hair. “That’s the problem, Y/n. You’re so blind when it comes to him. You don’t see the way he manipulates you. The way he manipulates us.”

The argument hung between you like a storm cloud, threatening to break. You wanted to defend Cameron, to tell Harper that she was wrong, but a part of you knew she was right. And that part of you hated her for saying it.

The morning was unusually quiet. The villa’s golden light seeped in through the open shutters, casting soft patterns on the crisp white linens of the bed you shared with Harper. The faint sounds of the waves lapping against the shore drifted through the room, mixing with the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. You had always found this particular time of day peaceful, a pause before the chaos of human interactions began.

But this morning, the silence between you and Harper felt anything but peaceful. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling a light sweater over her shoulders despite the warmth of the room. You were still lying down, watching her from the corner of your eye, unsure how to bridge the invisible gap that had grown overnight.

Last night’s discussion about Cameron had been more charged than either of you anticipated. Harper had been firm, her words sharp but laced with genuine concern: “You don’t see it, Y/n. He’s manipulating you, like he always does. And it’s affecting us.”

You, in turn, had tried to defend him, even as doubts gnawed at the edges of your mind. “He’s my brother, Harper. He wants what’s best for me.” But the words had rung hollow, even to you.

Now, in the daylight, you couldn’t ignore the weight of her arguments. Cameron had a way of getting into your head, of twisting situations just enough to make you question yourself—and Harper.

“I’m going down to breakfast,” Harper said, breaking the silence. Her tone was calm, but distant. “Are you coming?”

You hesitated, feeling the pull to stay wrapped in the comfort of the bed, away from the complexities waiting outside the door. But you nodded, swinging your legs over the side and reaching for your clothes. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

The four of you sat outside on the terrace, where the late morning sun warmed the stone tiles. Daphne was already animated, sipping an iced coffee and recounting a story about a boutique she wanted to visit in town. Cameron lounged beside her, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the carefree husband.

Harper, sitting across from you, was quiet, her fork absently moving scrambled eggs around her plate. You could tell she wasn’t truly listening to Daphne’s chatter, her thoughts likely still circling last night’s conversation.

“You okay, Y/n?” Cameron asked, his voice cutting through the clatter of silverware. His grin was as sharp as ever, and you could feel Harper stiffen beside you.

“Fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“Well, you’ve got to perk up. We’re in Italy, for God’s sake,” Cameron said with a laugh. “Not every day you get to live like this, huh?”

Harper finally spoke, her voice low but steady. “Not everyone feels the need to remind people how great their life is, Cameron.”

The table froze for a moment, Daphne’s laughter trailing off into an awkward silence. You looked at Harper, willing her to meet your gaze, but she kept her eyes on her plate.

Cameron chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Always so fiery, Harper. I guess that’s what keeps things interesting.”

You cleared your throat, desperate to diffuse the tension. “Maybe we should head into town after breakfast. Get some fresh air.”

Daphne jumped at the suggestion. “Yes! There’s this adorable piazza I’ve been dying to see. We can grab gelato, wander around. It’ll be fun.”

Harper gave a noncommittal shrug, and you felt a pang of guilt. The cracks in your relationship were becoming more visible, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Cameron was widening them on purpose.

The walk through town should have been idyllic. The cobblestone streets were lined with colorful buildings, their shutters painted in vibrant hues. Flower boxes overflowed with blooms, their scent mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery. But the beauty of the surroundings did little to ease the tension that clung to your group.

Cameron and Daphne led the way, their laughter carrying through the narrow streets. You and Harper lagged behind, walking side by side but barely speaking.

“You’re quiet,” Harper said eventually, her voice soft but tinged with frustration.

“I’m thinking,” you said.

“About what?”

You hesitated, glancing ahead at Cameron’s broad shoulders. “About us. About him.”

Harper stopped walking, forcing you to pause as well. “Y/n, if you can’t see what he’s doing by now, I don’t know what else to say. He doesn’t care about you, not really. He cares about control. And he’ll use whatever means necessary to get it—even if it means tearing us apart.”

Her words hit harder than you expected. You wanted to argue, to defend Cameron, but deep down, you knew she was right.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been letting him get to me, and it’s not fair to you.”

Harper’s expression softened, but only slightly. “I don’t need you to apologize, Y/n. I need you to see him for who he really is.”

The confrontation with Cameron came just after noon, back at the villa. The four of you had returned from town, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. It boiled over when Cameron made another casual jab at Harper during lunch.

“You know, it’s funny,” Cameron said, leaning back in his chair with the casual arrogance that had always grated on Harper’s nerves. “When we were kids, Y/n used to get in so much trouble. Mom thought she’d end up running some bohemian art collective in the middle of nowhere, not gracing the covers of magazines. It’s... surprising, really.”

The backhanded compliment was aimed directly at you, but it felt like a dagger meant for Harper. You managed a tight smile, hoping to deflect the brewing storm. “People change,” you said, your voice light but your grip on your fork tightening. “And I think I’ve done pretty well for myself.”

“Oh, no question,” Cameron said, his grin widening. “You’ve exceeded all expectations. And now, with Harper by your side—” He paused, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, it’s... unconventional, sure, but who am I to judge?”

Harper’s eyes flicked up from her plate, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Unconventional?” she asked, her tone measured but carrying an edge that made your stomach tighten.

“You know what I mean,” Cameron said, with the kind of faux-innocence that made your blood boil. “It’s just that Y/n comes from... well, let’s face it, a certain level. And your background—no offense—doesn’t exactly scream ‘power couple.’”

You felt the words like a punch to the gut, not because you agreed with them, but because they hung in the air, unchallenged. Harper’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Cameron,” you began, your voice firm but wavering just enough to betray your unease.

“No, let him finish,” Harper said, her gaze never leaving your brother’s face. “I’m curious to see how much lower he’s willing to go.”

Cameron chuckled, spreading his arms as if to say he was harmless. “Hey, I’m just being honest. Isn’t that what family’s for?”

“Family,” Harper said, the word dripping with disdain. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said, your voice louder than you intended. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable.

Harper pushed her chair back abruptly, standing and tossing her napkin onto the table. “I don’t need to sit here and listen to this. Enjoy your family bonding, Y/n.”

“Harper, wait—” you called after her, but she was already walking away, her footsteps echoing on the stone tiles of the terrace.

You turned to Cameron, your face hot with anger. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” he said, feigning surprise. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. You deserve someone who matches your level, Y/n. Harper’s... fine, I guess, but let’s not kid ourselves. She’s not one of us.”

The words stung, and for a moment, you hated yourself for not immediately defending Harper. Instead, you stood, muttering something about needing air, and followed the path Harper had taken.

You found her on the beach, her arms crossed as she stared out at the water. The moonlight caught the edges of her silhouette, highlighting the tension in her shoulders.

“Harper,” you said softly, approaching her cautiously.

She didn’t turn around. “Don’t,” she said, her voice cold. “Don’t come out here and pretend to make it better.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m trying to fix it.”

She let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “Fix what, Y/n? The fact that your brother disrespects me every chance he gets? Or the fact that you let him?”

“That’s not fair,” you said, though the words felt hollow even as they left your mouth.

“Isn’t it?” she shot back. “He talks down to me, insults our marriage, and you just sit there. You don’t defend me, you don’t stand up to him—you just let him win.”

Her words hit you like a slap, each one cutting deeper than the last. “It’s not about him winning,” you said, your voice cracking. “He’s my brother, Harper. I can’t just—”

“You can’t just what?” she interrupted. “Risk upsetting him? Risk losing his approval? Newsflash, Y/n—he doesn’t respect you either. He never has. And if you can’t see that, then maybe he’s right. Maybe I made a mistake thinking we could make this work.”

Her words left you stunned, your mind reeling. “You don’t mean that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She sighed, her expression softening just enough to let you see the hurt behind her anger. “I don’t want to mean it,” she said. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep fighting for us when it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

You stood there in silence, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a physical force. For the first time, you saw the cracks in your relationship not as something caused by Cameron or Daphne, but as something you had allowed to grow by putting your need for your brother’s approval above your commitment to Harper.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, the words barely scratching the surface of what you felt. “I’ve been... stupid. I let him get in my head, and I let him hurt you. That’s not okay. You’re what matters to me, Harper. Not him, not his opinion, not any of it. Just you.”

She looked at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I need to believe that, Y/n. I need to know that you’re in this with me, not just standing by while your family tears us apart.”

“I am,” you said, stepping closer and taking her hands in yours. “I’m with you, Harper. Always.”

---

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred first, blinking sleepily at the peaceful sight of Harper beside you. Her face was calm, her lips slightly parted as she slept. For the first time in days, you felt grounded. This woman—the one who had weathered so much by your side—was your anchor. You weren’t about to let Cameron or anyone else jeopardize that.

Instead of brooding over how to handle your brother, you decided to focus on Harper. Small gestures, ones that reminded her how much she meant to you, were long overdue. You slipped out of bed quietly, letting her rest, and wandered downstairs to arrange breakfast on the terrace.

By the time Harper joined you, her hair tousled and her steps slow, the table was set with fresh pastries, fruit, and coffee. She paused, her eyes sweeping over the spread, then landing on you.

“You did all this?” she asked, her tone guarded but touched.

“Just wanted to do something for you,” you replied, gesturing to the seat across from you.

She hesitated for a moment, then sat down, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

The meal started quietly, both of you still tentative in the aftermath of the night before. But gradually, the conversation eased. Harper told you about a strange dream she’d had involving dolphins in tuxedos, and you laughed harder than you had in days.

“I missed this,” she said softly, her gaze meeting yours.

“Me too,” you admitted. “I know I’ve been... distracted. I let him get in my head.”

Her brow furrowed. “Him?”

“Cameron,” you said, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to live up to his impossible standards, Harper. But last night, I realized it’s a losing game. He doesn’t want me to succeed—he wants me to fail. And I’ve been playing right into it.”

Harper leaned back, her arms crossed. “I’ve been saying that since day one.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know you have. I just didn’t want to see it. I thought if I could prove myself to him, he’d finally respect me. But I’m done chasing that. I don’t care what he thinks anymore. The only person I care about is you.”

She studied you for a long moment, her expression softening. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ve been so focused on Cameron that I almost lost sight of what matters. But I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m with you, Harper. Always.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, but you could see the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “Good,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reached across the table, gently taking her hand in yours. “Harper, I’m serious. I know I’ve screwed up—more times than I can count—but I want to do better. For you. For us. I’m not perfect, and God knows I’m slow sometimes, but I love you. I really, really love you.”

Harper raised a skeptical eyebrow, though her lips quirked into an amused smirk. “Really, really love me, huh? Is that the official declaration?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice unwavering. “Really, really. Desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in mock contemplation. “Hmm, let me think... You did mess up a lot this trip.”

“Harper...” Your voice softened, and your grip on her hand tightened.

Her smirk widened as she leaned forward just a little, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, begging might help your case. Maybe you should try that.”

You blinked at her, momentarily stunned by her playful challenge, before rising from your seat and lowering yourself to your knees right there on the terrace. “I’m begging,” you said earnestly, tilting your head like a desperate puppy, eyes locked on hers. “Forgive me, Harper. I’ll do anything.”

Her eyes widened for a split second before a laugh bubbled out of her, soft and disbelieving. “Oh my God, Y/n, you’re ridiculous,” she said, though her cheeks were flushed, and her tone was far from annoyed.

“I mean it,” you insisted, looking up at her with a sincerity that made her chest tighten. “You’re everything to me. I’ll get on my knees a thousand times if it means you’ll forgive me.”

Her laugh softened into something warmer, a mixture of affection and amusement, as she leaned down to stroke your cheek gently. “You know,” she mused, her thumb brushing along your jawline, “maybe you should be wrong more often. I like you on your knees for me.”

A soft, bashful smile tugged at your lips, but you didn’t move, relishing the feeling of her touch. “Whatever you want,” you murmured, voice barely audible. “Just tell me what to do to make it right, and I’ll do it.”

Harper’s teasing faltered slightly as her fingers lingered on your face. For all your silliness, she could see the depth of your love, the sheer desperation in your eyes to fix things. It made her heart ache and swell all at once.

She leaned back with a small sigh, tugging at your hand to coax you back to your feet. “All right, puppy. Get up. I don’t need the waitstaff thinking I’m torturing you out here.”

You rose obediently, though your gaze never left hers. “Am I forgiven?” you asked, hesitant but hopeful.

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head fondly. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said softly. “But yes. You’re forgiven.”

Relief washed over you, and without thinking, you leaned forward to press a kiss to her hand, earning another quiet laugh from her.

“You’re such a dork,” she said, her voice lighter now, full of affection.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” you said, grinning, “as long as it’s with you.”

“Careful,” Harper teased, her tone still laced with playfulness, “I might take you up on that offer.”

“Good,” you replied, settling back into your chair but still holding onto her hand like it was a lifeline. “Because I’m not letting go. Not ever.”

For a moment, Harper just looked at you, her smirk softening into something almost shy. “You really are hopeless,” she murmured, but there was no bite to it.

“And hopelessly in love with you,” you shot back, earning one more laugh from her as the tension finally melted away.

And for the first time, you weren’t thinking about Cameron or Daphne or anyone else. All you could see was Harper, and that was more than enough.

[robotpussy]

when you express your feelings to one of your parents and they take it as a personal attack..................

[cherrymoonvol6]

oh.

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3 

[hxxsxxng]

Past Wounds, Present Hearts P.SH

「Pairing」 : exbully!sunghoon x fem!reader

「Word Count」 : 10.5k

「Genre」 : smut, angst, somewhat fluff, college au

「Summary」 : you have felt resentment for sunghoon ever since the hell he put you through in middle school. now you find out he goes to your university.... and he's kinda hot?

「Warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! mentions of bullying, lower quality of life due to bullying, self doubt, mentions of drinking alcohol, implied intoxication in some scenes, college parties, sunghoon calls reader petnames, kissing, sharing a bed, nipple play, fingering, titty sucking, handjob, sunghoon turns out to be a sweetheart, cum eating, falling asleep together, and more

「Authors Note」 : i originally intended for the story to have a different ending but i changed my mind half way though and it would have been too fast paced for the word count given, i will definitely make a part two if enough people ask! not proofread

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I hate him. The smug look on his face when I walk pass him in the main campus hall. All of the girls clawing on to his shoulder, begging for his attention without knowing what fucking loser he is. The way all of the professors are so impressed with him for doing practically nothing in class. Getting a full ride scholarship for basketball to this school. I have grown sick of it.

Park Sunghoon. The name still twists my stomach after all these years. Middle school was when my hatred started for Him. He was my middle school bully. Always teasing me in front of the whole class, or making comments behind my back. What hurts the most is that he doesn’t seem to care that he used to act this way, or maybe he thinks I have forgotten. The truth is, I will never forget. It sits at the back of my mind all of the time. The people who know me from middle school still view me as this ���disgusting’ girl who was unlikeable, because of the things that Sunghoon would do to me.

It took years for me to build myself back up, so when I saw that he was planning on going to the same university as me last fall, I was more than worried. But this wasn’t middle school anymore. I can’t let him get away with treating me like an outcast who doesn’t deserve friends.First semester of university is always scary, I was always afraid to come out my shell and meet new people. I wanted to stay on top of acedemics. My best friend Yuqi was the complete opposite. Any opportunity she got to go out and party, she would be there. And, she would surprisingly maintain decent grades as well. Now that I think about it, I have never been a party goer, not even in highschool. Then again, there weren’t too many parties that either sounded interesting, or that I was invited to.

“Kappa Alpha is having a party this Friday, you in?” Yuqi suggested. She always gets the same response. “No, you already know I can’t, we have finals next week” I shrugged. “But Kappaaaaaa!” Yuqi whined, her voice getting higher every passing second. We were walking down the hallway towards our classes. A few students looked over, but quickly decided that they didn’t want to look any further. “I hear that Kappa Alpha has the best Christmas parties every year. You have to come” Yuqi insisted, grabbing onto my arm. I rolled my eyes. “Yuqi… You don’t actually think I’m going to attend one of their parties?” Yuqi gave me a confused stare, trying to read through my expression. “Why not?” “Sunghoon is in that frat, I’m pretty sure he lives in the frat house as well. You would catch me dead before seeing me step foot into that trashy hell hole” I explained, crossing my arm defensively. She knows how he treated me in middle school, she was there to witness it.

“What? He can’t be, out of all the parties I have gone to there, I have not seen him a singular time” Yuqi said with her eyebrows furrowed, putting emphasis into each word.. I tried to tell her that yes, he is the type of guy to hide out in the frat house and not attend, but she had no idea. After some debate, she eventually gave up asking me.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above me. Yuqi's words echoed in my mind, mixing with memories I'd rather forget. The Christmas lights strung across my dorm room cast a soft glow, but they did little to brighten my mood.

I rolled onto my side, hugging my pillow close. Why did Sunghoon have to be here, at my university, in my space? It wasn't fair. I'd worked so hard to leave that part of my life behind, to become someone new. Someone stronger.

But was I really stronger if I was still letting him dictate my choices? I grabbed my phone, thumb hovering over Yuqi's contact. She was probably out somewhere, living it up like she always did. I envied her sometimes, her ability to just… exist without all this baggage.

"Maybe I should go," I whispered to the empty room. The words felt foreign on my tongue. Me? At a Kappa Alpha party? It was absurd.

I sat up, running a hand through my messy hair. Yuqi would be ecstatic if I went. And isn't that what college is supposed to be about? New experiences, stepping out of your comfort zone?

But then I imagined walking into that frat house, the pulsing music, the crowded rooms. And somewhere in there, Sunghoon. Everybody loving him not knowing the kind of cruel person he is on the inside. My stomach clenched at the thought.

"This is stupid," I muttered, flopping back onto my bed. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone."

But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't true. I did need to prove something - to myself. That I could face my past, that I could exist in the same space as Sunghoon without falling apart.

I picked up my phone again, this time opening my messages to Yuqi. "Hey," I typed, then paused. Was I really doing this? My finger hovered over the send button as doubt crept in. But then I thought of Yuqi's excited face, of the possibility of actually enjoying myself for once.

Before I could change my mind, I quickly typed out the rest of the message and hit send. "Hey. About that Kappa Alpha party… I think I might go after all." I set my phone down, my heart racing. What had I just agreed to?​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Yuqi didn’t see my message until the morning, but I can only imagine her physical reaction after reading her written one. “Really???? I never thought this day would come. I promise you will love it!!!” my screen read. Her overuse of punctuation was telling enough about she felt. It was Friday morning, meaning that the party was going to be later in tonight. If I plan my time correctly, we can leave my dorm around 8pm, and I would have had all of the studying done that at I needed to do for the night.

I couldn’t help feeling nervous at the thought of attending a party with Sunghoon, but I decided that this may be the perfect chance to get to know him better. Okay, not ‘get to know him better’ but maybe this could finally give him a chance to clear the air between us, to apologize properly for everything that he did to me. But the chances of him apologizing are slim to none. When I see him in campus he seems to be the snobby type, unable to admit that they are wrong. Trust me, I have heard the stories going around campus.

I spent the rest of the day in a fog, my mind drifting between lectures and study sessions. The impending party loomed over me, a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

By the time I returned to my dorm, the sun was already setting. I sat at my desk, attempting to review my notes, but the words blurred together. My phone buzzed - another excited text from Yuqi about outfit choices. I sighed, closing my textbook. There was no point in pretending to study anymore.

~~~~~

At 7:00, a knock at my door announced Yuqi's arrival. She entered with her usual whirlwind energy, arms full of clothes and makeup. "Okay," she said, dumping everything onto my bed. "Let's make you look amazing."

I eyed the pile warily. "Yuqi, I'm not trying to impress anyone. Especially not Sunghoon." She paused, giving me a soft look. "This isn't about him. It's about you feeling good about yourself. Now, let's start with this sweater."

For the next half hour, we sifted through outfits. Yuqi was patient, letting me veto anything too revealing or flashy. We finally settled on a soft, cropped sweater and high-waisted jeans - comfortable, but still party-appropriate.

As I changed, Yuqi chatted about her day, her excitement for the party. Her casual banter helped ease my nerves, reminding me why I'd agreed to this in the first place. This was about spending time with my best friend, not about Sunghoon.

We left my dorm at 8:15, the cool night air a welcome relief for my flushed cheeks. The walk to the frat house was short, but with each step, the butterflies in my stomach intensified. Music pulsed in the distance, growing louder as we approached.

Outside the house, we paused. Yuqi squeezed my hand. "You okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah. Let's do this."

We stepped inside, and I was immediately overwhelmed. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and too many bodies in too small a space. Yuqi leaned close, "I'm going to get us some drinks. Will you be okay for a minute?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As she disappeared into the crowd, I stood there, taking in my surroundings. Groups of people clustered around, laughing and dancing. I recognized a few faces from classes, but no one I knew well.

And then, across the room, I saw him. Sunghoon, leaning against a wall, surrounded by his usual admirers. He was laughing at something someone said, his head thrown back. For a moment, I was transported back to middle school, hearing that laugh directed at me, mocking and cruel.

Our eyes met for a brief second, and I swear I saw something flicker in his expression. Surprise? Recognition? But before I could process it, someone bumped into me, breaking the moment.

I turned away, my heart pounding. What was I doing here? This was a mistake. I was about to head for the door when Yuqi reappeared, pressing a red cup into my hand.

"Here," she said with a smile. "It'll help you relax." I took a small sip, the unfamiliar burn of alcohol hitting the back of my throat. As we stood there, Yuqi chatting animatedly about the people around us, I felt myself slowly start to unwind. Maybe agreeing to come here wasn’t too bad of an idea.I was just starting to relax, the music and Yuqi's chatter creating a comfortable bubble around us, when I saw him approaching. Sunghoon, weaving through the crowd, his eyes fixed on... us? No, it couldn't be. But it was.

He stopped right in front of us, that infuriatingly perfect smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Yuqi," he said, his voice smooth as ever. Then his eyes slid to me. "And Y/N,… it's been a while, hasn't it?" I felt my body tense, my grip tightening on the red cup in my hand. Yuqi glanced between us, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of concern. "Sunghoon," I managed to say, my voice coming out colder than I'd intended. But then again, why should I care? He seemed unfazed by my tone. "I didn't expect to see you here. You're not usually the party type, right?" The casual way he said it, as if he knew me, as if we were old friends catching up, made my blood boil. How dare he act so nonchalant after everything? "People change," I replied curtly. "Not that you'd know anything about that." I avoided eye contact. I saw Yuqi wince beside me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Sunghoon's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of... something passing across his face. Confusion? Hurt? Good.

"Right," he said, recovering quickly. Looking down at the ground with a half smile, he takes ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​my snarky response as a que to leave. “I’ll see you around, (Y/N)” he scoffs and walks away.

“He is such an asshole” Yuqi complains, rubbing my back as a way to try to comfort me. “You responded well” I watched Sunghoon's tall, muscular figure get lost in the crowd, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me felt satisfied with how I'd handled the encounter, but another part felt... unsettled. I took a long swig from my cup, hoping the alcohol would dull the conflicting feelings. "Thanks," I mumbled to Yuqi, grateful for her support. She gave me a reassuring smile, but I could see the concern in her eyes. "Do you want to leave? We can if you're not comfortable." I considered it for a moment. The idea of going back to my dorm, burying myself in my blankets and pretending this night never happened, was tempting. But then I thought about how that's exactly what the old me would have done. The me that let Sunghoon's actions dictate her life.

"No," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "I'm not leaving. I have just as much right to be here as he does." Yuqi's face broke into a wide grin. "That's my girl!" she cheered, linking her arm through mine. "Let's mingle a bit, shall we?" As we made our way through the crowded room, I couldn't help but notice Sunghoon's gaze following us. Every time I glanced in his direction, he looked away, but not before I caught a flicker of... something in his eyes. It wasn't the cruel amusement I remembered from our school days. It was something else, something I couldn't quite place.

Yuqi introduced me to a few of her friends, and I found myself actually enjoying the conversations. It felt... normal. Like maybe I could do this whole college social scene thing after all. But then, over someone's shoulder, I saw Sunghoon again. He was looking right at us, his expression unreadable. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt a jolt of... something. Before I could analyze it further, he quickly averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Wait, was Sunghoon blushing? I shook off the thought. It was probably just the alcohol playing tricks on my mind.

As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The alcohol helped, but it was more than that. Every minute I spent here, laughing with Yuqi and her friends, was a minute I was reclaiming for myself. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every so often, I'd catch Sunghoon looking in my direction. But it wasn't the mocking stare I was used to. There was something almost... wistful about it. Once, when our eyes met, he even offered a small, hesitant smile before quickly turning the other way. I don’t understand why he is trying to smile at me. It was confusing, to say the least. This wasn't the Sunghoon I remember. The Sunghoon who had made my life miserable. This Sunghoon seemed... different. Unsure. Almost vulnerable. As Yuqi and I were preparing to leave, I excused myself to use the bathroom. On my way back, I quite literally bumped into Sunghoon in the hallway. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, steadying me with a hand on my arm. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me. "You okay?" I nodded, unsureness in my voice. We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. "Listen, Y/N," he started, then paused, running a hand through his jet black hair. "I... I'm glad you came tonight. It was good to see you."

Before I could respond, he quickly walked away, leaving me standing there, completely baffled. It wasn't until much later, as Yuqi and I were stumbling back to our dorms, arms linked and giggling about nothing in particular, that I realized something. For the first time in years, I'd spent an entire evening in the same space as Sunghoon without letting it ruin my night. And more than that, I was left with the strangest feeling that maybe there was more to Sunghoon than I'd allowed myself to see. As I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted but oddly content, I couldn't help but feel like something had shifted. I wasn't naive enough to think one party had erased years of hurt and resentment. But maybe it was a start.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

~~~~~

The next morning I woke up disoriented, borderline hungover. Roll over to the side to check the time on my phone. 11:09AM? It honestly felt like I slept for three days with how many drinks I consumed. I look further down the screen to see the notifications:

1:18 AM: @prksnghn02 started following you!

1:19 AM: @prksnghn02 Liked your post!

I must have fallen asleep to quickly too see this last night, but that was definitely right after we left the party.

I scroll through the conversation, smiling slightly at the messages

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 Hey! You still here?

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 I get it if you don’t want to speak to me.

Why was he messaging me. What gives him the right? I igonore the message and delete the message request. All that before my thumb hesitantly hovered over the follow button on his profile, eventually turning it grey. I spent the weekend as usual, going to my job at night and studying in the mornings. Though I had the awkward interaction with Sunghoon at one party, I think that I could see myself going with Yuqi to another party some time. Not soon though because finals start on Monday and I have to pass to keep my financial aid. That’s another thing that pisses me off. I work day and night to pay for my schooling by myself, and Sunghoon gets it all handed to him for being okay at basketball. He teased me for growing up less wealthy than him, but if he were in my shoes, he wouldn’t have thought it was so funny.

Monday morning I was walking through the main hall on campus, where they have to coffee shop that I occasionally stop by. Of course this time when I went, Sunghoon was standing at the bookstore across the walk way, talking to his girl-toys. It took everything in me to not make things awkward by looking in his direction, but for the split second I looked that way, he was already eyeing me down. I pretended to not notice, continuing into the coffee shop line as I would do normally. The line was fairly short. I looked down at my phone to distract myself until it was my turn to order. “I am sorry (Y/N)” a familiar voice says behind me, him lightly grazing my shoulder.

My eyes immediately snap to the owner of the voice. His brown eyes were staring directly into mine as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking just by looking at me. And I know he can. ‘Hey’ he seems to say, flashing me the smallest of smirks as his hand rests on the counter to my left. I scoff in disbelief. He really is serious now isn’t he. I try to ignore him and continue with my order, but Sunghoon stops me in my tracks. My heart starts hammering harder in my chest as I glance around to make sure no one overheard. “Hey (Y/N),” he repeats, giving me his infamous smirk. “I really am sorry” he continues. He’s watching me with a curious tilt to his head as he waits for my response.

“Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we can talk some more?” For a fraction of a moment, it’s hard to believe what’s happening.

“Whatever you are trying to do, I don’t want any part of it” I said sternly, trying to shoo him away. I know he could see the annoyance on my face but that wasn’t enough to get him to leave. “Please, I want to make things right” he begged with a hint of charm in his voice. He reaches out to hold my wrist but this time instead of swatting him away, I let him. If anyone deserves an apology it should be me. He takes a step closer to me, tilting his head slightly. “Fine I guess, but do not expect to get anything out of me” I agreed hesitantly. His facial expression completely changed from worried to… relieved? We ordered together in line while I tried my best to ignore him. His scent was a distraction. It was captivating. It was comparable to mohagany and mint. Admittedly, he is tall and handsome, even when we were in middle school he had always been cute. But I would never say that out loud. Eventually, his named was called and we both went up to grab our drinks. “Thank you Sunghoon” I said while looking down, trying to get out of the situation as soon a possible. “Wait” he says before I get to far away. “I will text you” he added. I half way smiled and walked away.

~~~~~

At lunch, I found myself leaning against Yuqi as we sat at one of our tables outside. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Better” I admitted. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I’m doing better” She nodded, seemingly satisfied by my reply.

“Yuqi?” I spoke again once I had my full attention back on her. She turned her attention towards me expectantly.

“Why don’t you give him another chance?” she sighed, rolling her neck around. “I mean, he seems like he is genuinely trying to make it up to you.”

“Yes he is putting in the effort now, but the pain that he put me through doesn’t just go away in an instant, it will take time for me to trust him”

“I understand” she muttered.

~~~~~

A few days had passed but I had never received a message from Sunghoon. Maybe he forgot or maybe he was scared…. I don’t know. But I can’t help but to think that I was maybe looking forward to that message. Yuqi was right, maybe he does deserve another chance. The library was my number one studying location. It was quiet, I could focus, and nobody bothers me. I actually have some time to myself. I have tested out every study area here and the to floor is by far my favorite. I press the 5 on the elevator control pad, and as the doors start closing, someone’s hand is placed between the doors, causing them to shoot back open. It was Sunghoon. I awkwardly scoot to the edge of the confined space to make sure there was more than enough room between us. His eyes light up when he realizes I was the one in the elevator.

“Would it be a problem if I rode with you?” he asked hesitatingly with an awkward smile.

“No, why would there be a problem?” I replied quickly. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds after my answer, and then I heard the elevator ding and the doors slowly start closing again. God, being around him gave me mixed emotions. His aura is so captivating, but his personality is the opposite. And not to mention that mohagany scent again. We rode to the fifth floor in total silence and exited the elevator once it stopped. When we both made way out of the elevator to walk our own directions, He gently grazed my shoulder and said “Good luck with finals” and walked the other direction.

-

Later that same evening while I was still on the library, my phone pinged with a new notification.

prksnghn02: Hey are you available?

prksnghn02: I know I said I was sorry but I really want you to know how I feel. I can’t do it over text.

I think this is the message that I have been waiting to see. I would appreciate to see him and have him fully apologize, though I don’t think this is the right time. It’s the middle of finals week and lord knows I am already struggling as is. I look up from my phone, observing my surroundings, and spot Sunghoon across the almost empty room lounging on a library bean-bag. Alone. That’s a first considering his royalty equivalent status on campus. He was clearly looking at me when I opened his message.

yourusername: Hey, sorry. I really need to study for this Sociology final. I can definitely carve out a time to meet next week.

I look up at him and point at my phone, making a frowny face and his expression mirrors mine.

prksnghn02: Who is the professor? I aced my sociology class I took over the summer. If you need any help lmk.

He looks at me with a thumbs up. His offer seems tempting, but what would I do? Sit there and hear him lecture me? It would already be hard enough to pay attention given how his arms are looking in that black fitted top.

yourusername: I will think about it.

I try to focus on my sociology notes, but my eyes keep drifting back to Sunghoon. He's still lounging on the bean bag, but now he has a textbook open on his lap. Every so often, he glances up, catching my eye before we both quickly look away. The tension is palpable, even from across the room. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This is getting ridiculous. I'm here to study, not to play this weird game of cat and mouse with my former bully turned... what? Potential friend? The thought makes me uncomfortable. I make a split second decision on impulse and grab my phone, maybe regretting my decision later.

yourusername: Okay fine, come help me.

I witness Sunghoon look at his phone and shoot up out of his seat within the span of 3 seconds. Impressive. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as Sunghoon practically skidded to a stop in front of my desk. It was a stark contrast to his usual nonchalance. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, I was back in middle school, his laughter echoing in the halls, the same laughter that used to sting.

“So, sociology huh?” he said with the most awkward tone possible. “What do you need help with” he continues, signaling his hand towards my messy notes. My notebook has definitely seen better days. I sighed, shoving my phone into the abyss of my backpack.

"Everything feels like gibberish. Professor Ramirez throws these massive lectures at us, and it all just blends together." Surprised laughter rumbled out of him.

"Ramirez? Yeah, he can be a bit much. But trust me, sociology isn't actually that complicated. Let's see your notes." Tentatively, I slid my well-worn notebook across the desk. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing in concentration. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of turning paper. I snuck a peek at him. His features were softened by a focus I wouldn't have expected. "Okay," he finally said, looking up. "This isn't so bad. You've got the basic concepts down. I think you're just getting overwhelmed by the details."

Relief flooded me. Maybe I wasn't completely incompetent after all. He settled into the chair across from me, his arm brushing mine for a moment as he reached for a pen. He continued to sort through my notes, trying to piece together what I may not be understanding. He was surprisingly patient with me, and even created examples for me to try and understand better. Not to mention that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as he spoke. His black hair falling loosely in front of his dark brown eyes and black glasses was so sexy.

"So basically, social stratification is like the ranking system within a society?" I summarized, feeling a flicker of accomplishment. Sunghoon grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Exactly! See, you were getting it all along." He paused, then reached for a specific page in my notes.

"Now, let's talk about power structures and how they influence social mobility…" Time melted away as Sunghoon patiently guided me through the sociological knowledge. I peppered him with questions, surprised by my own comfort level.

He answered them all with good humor and a surprising depth of knowledge that made him seem worlds apart from the bully I knew in middle school and the jock he is now. I looked at his face once again, admiring the way he furrowed his eye brows when he concentrated. I am snapped out of my trance with

“What?” Sunghoon questioned me, tilting his face to the side. I couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until a second or two later.

“Nothing! It’s nothing. Go on with what you were saying” I averted my eyes towards the table to try and hide the blood in my cheeks. “Heh, Okay….” he chuckles fiddling with the ring on his finger. He pauses for a few seconds and picks up with “You should get home soon. You don’t wanna have late nights, right?”

He looks me dead in the eye as he says this, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. I glanced at my phone, startled to see it was already 1 AM. We'd been studying for hours without realizing it. The library, usually bustling with stressed students, was now eerily quiet.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize how late it got," I mumbled, hastily gathering my notes. Sunghoon stretched, his shirt riding up slightly. I pretended not to notice.

"Yeah, time flies when you're having fun with sociology, right?" he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "Right, because power structures are just a barrel of laughs." As we packed up our things, Sunghoon hesitated, then asked, "Hey, um, would you like me to walk you back to your dorm? It's pretty late." I paused, considering. The old me would have immediately refused, not wanting to spend an extra second with him.

But now... "Sure," I found myself saying. "That would be nice." We stepped out into the cool night air, the campus very quiet around us. For a moment, we walked in silence, the only sound our footsteps on the pavement.

"So," Sunghoon started, breaking the silence. "Did you find the study session helpful?" I nodded, surprised by my own honesty.

"Yeah, actually. You explain things... differently than I expected." He raised an eyebrow.

"Different good or different bad?"

"Different good," I admitted. "You're more... patient than I thought you'd be." Sunghoon chuckled softly. "Well, don't sound so surprised. Im not just a handsome face ya know.” I felt a retort forming on my lips, but bit it back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” As we walked, I couldn't help but sneak glances at him. In the soft glow of the street lamps, he looked... different. Softer somehow. Less like the arrogant boy I'd built up in my mind and more like... well, just a guy. "You know," he said suddenly, his voice quiet. "I meant what I said before. About being sorry." I felt my body tense. "Sunghoon, we don't have to-"

"No, please," he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. I turned to face him, surprised by the earnestness in his eyes. "I was a jerk in middle school. More than a jerk. I was cruel, and I've regretted it for years. I just... I want you to know that. I am sorry." I stood there, stunned. This vulnerability was so at odds with the Sunghoon I thought I knew.

"I... thank you," were the only words that were able to come out of my mouth. - I turned to face towards him as we reached the enterance of my dorm building. “Okay, I guess I can take it from here” I said, grabbing my key card out of my backpack.

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.” I entered the building and the door was already halfway closed before Sunghoon grabbed it and called out behind me, "Wait!” I stopped mid step and turned to meet his curious gaze, confused by what he could possibly want to say. I gave him a questioning look as he approached me slowly. His hands fidgeted nervously, and he took one last glance around, making sure no one was watching before reaching up to touch my cheek hesitantly. His thumb brushed the area under my eye lightly, his hand moving downwards slowly until he rested his palm flat on my jaw. I was somehow okay with this, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

My heart thudded loudly against my chest as I stared at his hand resting gently on my skin, unable to tear my gaze away from his. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into me with an intensity I have never felt. “Have a good night, (Y/N)” he said softly, grazing my bottom lip with his thumb. He leaned down slowly while gazing into my eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. My breath hitched as he brought his other hand up and cradled my cheek, brushing some loose strands of hair out of my face. “You too, Sunghoon”

~~~~~

The end of finals week had finally come and I am not exaggerating when I say that this is the most relieved I have ever been in my life. I was lounging on my bed scrolling through tik tok and I saw a message pop up at the top of my screen.

prksnghn02: Hey! A few of us are having a small get-together at the frat house to celebrate surviving finals. You and Yuqi should come.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. A month ago, I would've immediately declined. But now… things were different. The study session with Sunghoon, our late-night walk, the way he'd touched my face before saying goodnight - it all swirled in my mind, a confusing mix of old resentment and new… something.

yourusername: Let me check with Yuqi. What time?

His response was almost immediate.

prksnghn02: Around 8? It's just a few people, nothing crazy. Promise it won't be like last time.

I couldn't help but smile at that. The last party had been a turning point, in a way.

yourusername: Okay, I'll let you know.

I rolled over, dialing Yuqi's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Please tell me you're calling to drag me out of this post-finals funk," she groaned.

I laughed. "Actually, yeah. Sunghoon invited us to a small thing at the frat house. You in?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Sunghoon, huh? You two seem to be getting along better."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "We're… working on it," I admitted. "So, you coming or what?"

"Obviously," she said. "I'll be at yours in an hour. We need to talk about this Sunghoon situation, by the way."

I groaned. "There's no 'situation', Yuqi."

"Uh-huh. Sure. See you soon!"

She hung up before I could protest further. I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

An hour later, Yuqi was sprawled on my bed, watching me rummage through my closet.

"So," she said, drawing out the word. "You and Sunghoon, huh?"

I threw a shirt at her. "There's no 'me and Sunghoon'. We're just… I don't know. Not enemies anymore, I guess."

Yuqi sat up, her expression serious. "Look, I know he was awful to you in middle school. But people change, you know? And he seems to be really trying."

I sighed, sitting down next to her. "I know. It's just… complicated."

She bumped my shoulder with hers. "Life's complicated. Doesn't mean you can't give it a chance."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Yuqi always had a way of cutting through my defenses.

"Now," she said, her tone lightening. "Let's find you something cute to wear. Just because it's not a 'situation' doesn't mean you can't look hot."

I rolled my eyes, but let her pull me back to the closet.The frat house was quieter than I'd ever seen it. No pulsing music, no crowds of people. Just the soft murmur of conversation and laughter drifting from the back patio. Sunghoon met us at the door, his face lighting up when he saw us. "Hey! You made it." he said, ushering us inside. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I felt a flutter in my stomach. "Drinks are in the kitchen, we're all out back."

As we followed him through the house, I couldn't help but notice how different he seemed here, in his element. Relaxed, open, a far cry from the popular Sunghoon I was used to seeing on campus. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly attractive. The back patio was strung with fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the small group gathered there. I recognized a few faces from classes, but it was indeed a much smaller crowd than the usual frat parties.

Yuqi immediately gravitated towards a group she knew, leaving me standing awkwardly by the door. Sunghoon appeared at my side, two red cups in hand. "Here," he said, offering me one. "It's just punch, but fair warning - Heeseung made it, so it's probably stronger than it tastes." I took a sip, the sweetness masking the unmistakable burn of alcohol. "Thanks for inviting us," I said, surprised by how much I meant it. Sunghoon's smile was soft, almost shy. "I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure if you would." "Honestly? I wasn't sure either," I admitted. He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. Come on, let me introduce you to some people." As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The punch was indeed strong, but the warm buzz it provided was pleasant.

Sunghoon stayed close, always making sure I was included in conversations, laughing at my jokes, his hand occasionally brushing against mine in a way that seemed both accidental and deliberate. I found myself studying him when he wasn't looking. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gestures he made when he was explaining something he was passionate about. It was hard to reconcile this Sunghoon with the boy who had tormented me in middle school. At some point, Yuqi caught my eye from across the patio and gave me a not-so-subtle thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at her, but I couldn't help the smile that subtly appears on my face.

As the night progressed, people started to drift away in twos and threes. Yuqi had gotten into an intense discussion about some TV show with a guy from her psych class, leaving Sunghoon and me alone on a small bench near the edge of the patio. The fairy lights cast a soft glow on his features, and I found myself staring longer than I should have. "You know," Sunghoon said, his words slightly slurred, "I never thought we'd be here like this." I raised an eyebrow. "What, drunk on your frat house patio?" He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "No, I mean... talking. Like friends."

His hand found mine on the bench between us, his fingers intertwining with mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, but I didn't pull away. "I was such an ass to you in middle school," he continued, his voice dropping low. "I... I didn't know how to deal with how I felt about you back then." I froze, my heart suddenly pounding. "What do you mean?" Sunghoon turned to face me, his eyes intense even in their alcohol-glazed state. "I had the biggest crush on you," he admitted. "But I was too stupid and insecure to know how to handle it. So I lashed out instead." I sat there, stunned.

The Sunghoon I knew in middle school, the one who had made my life miserable, had a crush on me? It didn't make sense, and yet... "That doesn't excuse what I did," he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "Nothing excuses that. But I want you to know how sorry I am. And how glad I am that you're giving me a chance to make it right."

I looked at our intertwined hands, then back up at Sunghoon's face. The vulnerability in his expression took my breath away. "I... I don't know what to say," I whispered. "You don't have to say anything," he murmured, leaning in slightly. "I just wanted you to know." We sat there for a moment, the air between us charged with possibility. Then, without thinking, I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our lips met softly, hesitantly at first. Then Sunghoon's free hand came up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

It was sweet and a little clumsy, tasting of punch with a hint of alcohol. His lips were softer than I'd imagined - not that I'd been imagining it, of course. When we broke apart, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Sunghoon's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite name.

"I... wow," he breathed, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. Before I could respond, the patio door slid open and Yuqi's voice rang out. "Y/N? You out here?" Sunghoon and I sprang apart, but not before Yuqi caught sight of us. Her facial expression completely changed, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone teasing. I stood up quickly, nearly losing my balance. Sunghoon steadied me with a hand on my arm, the touch sending another jolt through me. "We were just... talking," I managed to say, knowing how unconvincing it sounded. Yuqi's grin widened. "Uh-huh. 'Talking.' Got it. Well, hate to break up this... conversation, but it's getting late. We should probably head out." I nodded, suddenly feeling very sober. "Right. Yeah. Let's go."

As we made our way back through the house, I could feel Sunghoon's eyes on me. At the front door, he caught my hand. "Text me when you get home safe?" he asked, his voice low. I nodded, words not being able to leave my mouth. He squeezed my hand once before letting go. - The walk back to the dorms was quiet, Yuqi mercifully holding back her questions until we were safely in my room. "Okay," she said, flopping onto my bed. "Spill. Everything. Now." I sank into my desk chair, my mind replaying the kiss over and over. "I... I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

Yuqi's expression softened. "Start at the beginning. And don't leave anything out."

~~~~~

Going over to Sunghoons frat house became a frequent thing over the winter break. About twice a week I would go with Yuqi and kick back with a few of his friends, the same ones that were there the first time.

During those times, we'd always end up hanging out in Sunghoons backyard, or playing in his pool. He definitely acted a lot different around his friends than I expected. More relaxed, open, less guarded. In turn he opened up to me a bit too.

“If I beat you in a round of pool, you have take a shot with me” Sunghoon said chuckling, nudging his elbow against my arm. “Come on, that’s fair!”

“I guess, but what do I get it I win?”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know what, I can think of something…” He moved closer to me, the tip of his nose inches away from mine. A shiver ran down my spine as I tried to resist the urge to pull away. Instead, I remained still, watching nervously as his mouth slowly drew closer and closer. “I think you might like it” he said teasingly.

“I guess I should just let you win then” I sighed sarcastically, trying to ignore the butterflies built up in my stomach.

He scoffs “I promise, sweetheart, I don’t bite” he said, moving back just enough so he could meet my eyes. His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of heat through my body.

“So, what kind of shot?” I asked lightly, trying to ignore the way my voice shook as I spoke.

“I think I have some Don Julio” he mused, running a hand along the back of his neck.

Sunghoon it first to break all of the pool balls apart, declaring him as solids. Drinking beer between each of our turns and chatting about family and work, Sunghoon was a lot better at pool than he originally let on, because soon enough he had only 2 solid balls left, while I still had 5 stripes.

I was expecting him to have already won at this point. When he set his cue on the edge, lining up to hit one of the solids into a hole, the 8 ball shoots across the board, into the hole closest to me.

“Aw shit, I guess you won” He said with a fake defeated look.

I laughed, setting my bottle aside. “Looks like it. Thanks for letting me have a couple extra rounds” I said, winking at him. I missed my cue stick by mere centimeters, but didn’t care. My eyes were locked on Sunghoon; his hair stuck up everywhere, his skin glistening with sweat after his game, his shirt clung tightly to his frame.

A loud bang echoed off the walls, making us both jump slightly. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped towards the window behind me, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Someone just slammed the garage door shut” he whispered. “Did they close up for the night?”

We had spent so much time playing pool, we didn’t realize that slowly, one by one, people started to go home. This meaning that Yuqi probably caught a ride home with someone and the only people left here are the 3 frat guys staying in the house over the break.

“It’s getting late, I should probably call an Uber” I said, rubbing my eyes for focus.

“Why leave so soon? Doing Uber this late at night could be dangerous, you never know what kind of people could be out there.”

“What other option do I have? Yuqi went home already” I replied, grabbing my phone.

“You can stay here, you can sleep on my bed and I will set up a bed on the floor” he offered.

“I don’t know if that is the best idea” I muttered, staring at my feet.

“Just sleep here. Don’t waste money on an Uber, and I promise I can take great care of you.” he urged me, placing his hand under my chin so that I would finally look at him. “Do you really believe that I would let you get into a strangers car right now?”

I hesitated before nodding. “Fine, but only because I trust you.”

~

We pack up all of our stuff from outside, including my purse and all of the extra alcohol. There are so many room in the frat house and I have never been upstairs, I have no idea which one is Sunghoons. As the two of us climb the stairs up to his room, we both silently agree not to mention the previous events from the other night.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why I kissed him, And I don’t know why he kissed me. Even though he did tell me a little about the reason behind our relationship, it wouldn’t matter, he was too far gone for it to change anything anyway.

The moment we step into his room, he tosses his backpack onto the floor and gestures to the large queen sized bed sitting in the corner of the room.

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in, I can’t sleep wearing jeans and a tank top” I said, gesturing to my jeans.

“Don’t worry about it, I can lend you something” he said, walking over to a laundry basket of clothes lying on the floor near the wardrobe. “I haven’t gotten the chance to put up my laundry, let me find something” he explains, rummaging through the basket.

He pulls out a large black t-shirt and some basketball shorts. “Here, try these on” and walked over, handing them to me, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Look away!” I playfully shouted while waving my hand to shoo him. “

“Oh my gosh, okay” he covers his eyes like a cartoon character.

Luckily I was wearing some spandex shorts and a sports bra underneath, so even if he did sneak a peek, which I’m sure he did, nothing too important would have been exposed. On him the clothes look normal size, but on me, the shirt fit like a dress and the shorts touched half way down my shins. “I guess I have no choice” I shrugged.

I crawl into his bed while he went to fetch an extra blanket for me out of his closet. At this point, he was already in his sleep attire. No shirt and some basketball shorts. It was hard to concentrate when he was standing there wearing nothing but shorts. I admit that maybe I was staring a bit longer than appropriate.

“You like what you see?” he says in a cocky tone, chuckling at my embarrassment.

“Shut up, you are so annoying” I scoff and roll my eyes, laying back down on the bed.

“Haha okay…” he smirks as he stands up from the closed with the blanket in his hand. “Hopefully this will keep you warm enough” he said, covering me with the big piece of fabric.

“Thank you, Sunghoon” I said, turning over to attempt to catch some sleep. He set up a little bed on the floor with a blanket and a pillow right next to the bed and layer down as well.

After sometime of just listening to the sound of the crickets outside, the quiet noises of the street, cars passing by, the occasional chirp of a bird. The atmosphere was rather peaceful, comfortable almost. I couldn't help the small smile forming on my face as I lay my head on my arm.

My brain kept drifting away from sleep, my thoughts constantly drifting back to Sunghoon. My heart rate was rising with every second that passed, I tried desperately to calm myself down, not wanting to give any indication that I was starting to get aroused. The more I listened to the sounds outside, the more I felt the overwhelming desire to be wrapped up in his arms. Just to feel him hold me.

I sigh deeply, rolling over onto my side and facing him. The soft glow of moonlight illuminating the entire room, casting light patterns on his sleeping features. If this was any other day, I would definitely stare at him until dawn, taking in every minute detail of him.

I scooted over to the edge of the bed, just close enough for me to nudge Sunghoon with my foot. “Hoon, are you awake” I whispered.

His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the moonlight leaking through the blinds. “Yeah” he clears his throat. “Why?”

“Can you lay with me?” I whispered again.

He stared at me for a second, trying to understand what was going through my mind. Eventually, he crawled onto the bed, lying down next to me. His body was hot against mine, making goosebumps erupt throughout my skin, but the feeling was comforting nevertheless. We laid like that in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Eventually, it became too awkward and I had to move closer into Sunghoon, cuddling up next to him. “I like this” I say quietly, resting my head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his faint scent. He chuckled slightly, positioning himself to where his fingers could comb though my hair.

I mumble, wrapping my arm around his torso. His fingers stopped their ministrations then, hesitating for a moment. I looked up at him from my position on his chest, curious as to what made him stop. I met his deep brown eyes that were focused solely on me. His gaze was soft, yet intimidating at the same time. Slowly, carefully, he lifted my head off his body and held it between his hands. Then he brought his lips to meet mine softly.

He pulled me in closer, gently running his fingertips along my jawline, making my heartbeat pick up in pace. His kisses were slow and sweet, the most tender kiss I've ever had. After several seconds of pure bliss, he pulled away slowly, watching me as if waiting for some sort of reaction. When my eyes fluttered open I met with his eyes, gazing deeply into each others’. A smile formed on my lips, making Sunghoon lean in to reconnect our lips again.

He placed his hands on the sides of my neck, holding me close to him, deepening the kiss, our tongues intertwining in a passionate dance. Our bodies pressed closely together, moving together rhythmically. His hands lifted up my oversized shorts and began roaming across my bare thighs, tracing up the hem of my shirt. We kept getting tangled in each other’s clothing as we continued kissing.

He reached my breasts, pushing up my sports bra to give them an affectionate squeeze, causing me to gasp in response. My hands moved down from his shoulders and ran up the backs of his arms to his neck, pulling on his short hairs slightly. Pulling on the strands of hair caused him to release a low growl and deepen the kiss, pulling his tongue into my mouth. Suddenly I felt his teeth graze my bottom lip, causing me to whimper slightly at the unexpected pain. When he released my lower lip, he sucked on it, sucking on it harder and harder with his sharp canine teeth. “Fuck…” I moan, gripping tightly onto the ends of his dark brown locks.

He took the opportunity to slide his hands under my shirt, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples lightly, causing my stomach muscles to tense up involuntarily. A slight smirk crept onto his lips as he noticed this, but then he proceeded to push the crop top further up on my shoulders before placing soft gentle kisses along my collar bone. He sprinkled kissed on my shoulders and chest and then moved down towards my waistline, placing soft soft kisses along my belly button. His hand started to work its way downwards, slowly caressing the insides of my thighs.

He latched one of my nipples into his mouth, gently suckling the tight swollen bud of flesh with his teeth and tongue. As his hand reached down and slid his middle finger along the underside of my left thigh, causing me to grind against his hand.

He trailed his hand back up to the bottom of my shirts and bunched it up in his hand “Can I take this off?” he leaned next to my ear and whispered. My breath hitched at how sensual he sounded.

“Please” I managed to speak out. He didn’t reply immediately, only gave me a reassuring smile before pulling it over my head, only leaving my bra. His lips found their way back up to mine, sending a surge of electricity through me. His hands worked their way to bottom of my bra, lifting it up and throwing it to the side as well. The cool air on my bare stomach and chest suddenly sent tingles all over my body, sending shivers down my spine and goosebumps all over my skin. He smiled at my reaction, continuing to caress my inner thigh.

“Is it okay if I take these off too?” he whispered, grazing the waistband of my shorts.

I let go of his arms and nodded my head yes, watching his expression change from relaxed to excited. I watched him pull those off and discard them as well, leaving only my thong on. “I hope this is okay” he smiled. He was still looking at me with those intense eyes, making it difficult for me to breathe properly.

He removed the last piece of clothing from me, both my spandex and the shorts he gave me, revealing my beautiful skin and perfectly plump curves underneath. He took a few seconds to appreciate every inch of my body before sliding his slim fingers between my legs. Instinctively my knees fell apart slightly, allowing him access to my core which caused his eyes to darken even more. As he gently traced circles around my bud, sending me into complete ecstasy, I moaned loudly, moaning in pleasure as my hips began grinding into his finger tips.

“God, you’re so pretty” he whispered, trailing kisses along my cheek. I bit my bottom lip to suppress the moans coming out of my mouth as he continued to stroke the wetness inside of my thighs. “So perfect.”

He spread my wetness all over his fingers and slid one finger inside of my desperate hole. At first, he started slowly, his thumb circling my clit while his middle finger slid in and out of my warm opening, slowly increasing the amount of pressure until I was gripping down onto his fingers with all of my strength. He increased the speed of his movements, adding another finger, pumping them hard into me. I closed my eyes and arched my back, trying my best to keep a good grip on his fingers.

“Shit, you’re so wet angel” he groans. He took his hand away to pull off his own shorts, with his boxers. His dick spring free, tip raging and dripping with precum. It was big, a lot bigger than I had expected.

I take all of his length into my fist as he continues contact with my folds. “Fuck, that feels good, baby” he says under his breath. I collect spit in my mouth and layer his tip and slide my hand up and down slowly.

I feel a familiar knot forming in my stomach as he keeps a consistent pace pumping his finger into my gushing pussy. “Agh yess” I moan on his cock, feeling the burning sensation building up. He leans down to place a tender kiss on the back of my shoulder, his warm breath fanning my sensitive skin, causing my back arch even higher. "Let go babygirl"he murmurs against my shoulder.

I let my hand rest against his erection, stroking him slowly, feeling the tip get longer by the moment. Soon enough, I can no longer contain myself as I let the orgasm rip out of me. His name came spilling out of my mouth, followed by a loud moan “Fuck Sunghoon, just like that.” I continue to hold on to him as the wave of pleasure takes over me, feeling my muscles start to seize up and my vision starting to blur.

As I'm regaining my composure, he pulls out of me, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. “You taste so good, princess” he praises, with sweat droplets forming in his forehead.My face turns red with embarrassment. I cover my face with my palms as I try to control my breathing. Sunghoon chuckles and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my blushing face and places them on his cheeks instead. “Don’t be embarrassed, babygirl. That was hot” he says. My blush gets stronger by the second.

“Let me get you cleaned up” he suggested, getting out of the bed to go to his bathroom where he kept his extra cloths. He came back with a small smile on his face. He runs the rag between my legs and said “I am really happy you decided to spend the night”

“Me too Sunghoon” my smile only visible by the moonlight. He went back into the bathroom to put the cloth into the dirty clothes hamper.

“Now come here…” He brings his lips to meet mine once more. He wraps his arms around my sore body, making my face bury into his chest. Our bare skin resting against eachother was so relaxing. His skin was soft, and he was perfectly toned to my liking. He runs his fingers through my hair and begins to massage my scalp, making my whole body tremble. “It’s really late, sweetheart, let’s get some rest” he whispers and kisses my forehead, then rests his chin on the top of my head. As I lay there in Sunghoons embrace, feeling the warmth radiating off him, my eyes gradually fall shut.

-

「Taglist」 : @sngleehee - @capri-cuntz - @namdeyuoi - @jaysupremacy - @tobiosbbyghorl - @hoonie-zzz - @jayhoonvroom - @mumeimei - @skaterhoonie - @nat123c - @branchrkive - @simpjay - @parksunghoonsgf - @jakeflvrz - @alienqbrain - @mitmit01 - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyun - @sumzysworld - @rikislady - @heeheeswifey - @chlorinecake - @flwrhoes - @hollyoongs - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @sjyunnsworld - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @fatalwon

[httpsserene]

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

join the taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well. 

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason. 

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed. 

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers. 

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib. 

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year. 

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan. 

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today. 

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

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user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

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user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

© httpsserene2024

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)