#well maybe not my favorite but he knows I love it

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[slaytheday12]

you being a famous actress and walker gets caught saving edits of you

Caught in 4K

Being a famous actress at 16 was equal parts thrilling and exhausting. You loved acting, loved the magic of bringing stories to life, but the constant attention that came with it? That was something you were still getting used to. The interviews, the photoshoots, the premieres it was all a whirlwind.

But what you hadn’t expected was for Walker Scobell yes, the star of the Percy Jackson series and everyone’s favorite funny guy to get caught in the chaos of your fame.

It started innocently enough. You’d met Walker briefly at a comic-con event a few months ago. You were there promoting your latest film, and he was there hyping up his role as Percy. You were both part of a panel featuring young Hollywood stars, and you hit it off almost immediately. Walker’s goofy humor paired with his genuine kindness made him easy to talk to, and by the end of the day, you’d exchanged numbers.

Since then, you’d kept in casual contact—mostly lighthearted texts and the occasional comment on each other’s Instagram posts. You liked him. Maybe more than you were willing to admit. But with both of your schedules, it was hard to imagine anything more than a friendship.

That was, until one fateful Saturday afternoon when Walker decided to go live on Instagram.

You weren’t watching at first. You were curled up on your couch, scrolling through TikTok and eating a bowl of cereal. But then your phone buzzed with notifications. And kept buzzing.

The texts from your friends were frantic:

Erick: OMG ARE YOU SEEING THIS? Lydia: HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS ICONIC. CHECK TWITTER.

Confused, you opened Twitter and immediately saw your name trending. Clicking the hashtag, you were greeted with a flood of screenshots and screen recordings. Apparently, during Walker’s livestream, he’d been scrolling through his tabs, trying to show his fans a funny meme. But instead of a meme, he’d accidentally revealed his camera roll.

And there, for all the world to see, were saved edits of you. The internet had exploded.

“WALKER SCOBELL SAVING Y/N EDITS??? I’M SCREAMING.” “Not him being just like us 🥹😭.” “We lost him.”

You couldn’t stop laughing as you scrolled through the memes and reactions. It was embarrassing for him, sure, but also kind of… sweet? He’d always been one of your biggest supporters, hyping you up in interviews and talking about how talented you were. But saving edits? That was next-level fan behavior.

Your phone buzzed again. A text from Walker.

Walker: So… uh… about my camera roll. You: Oh, you mean the part where the entire internet found out you’re my biggest fan? Yeah, I saw it. 😂 Walker: In my defense, those edits were really well-done. You: Sure, sure. It had nothing to do with me being in them, right? 😉 Walker: …Okay, fine. Maybe I think you’re cool. And talented. And pretty.

Your heart skipped a beat. You tried to play it cool, though.

You: Walker Scobell, are you flirting with me? Walker: Is it working? You: …Maybe.

The conversation continued, playful and teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something real beneath the banter.

Later that night, Walker posted a follow-up story on Instagram, addressing the incident.

“So, yeah, I got caught saving edits of Y/N. And, honestly? I regret nothing. She’s awesome, okay? If you were me, wouldn’t you save those edits too?”

The fans went wild. The comments were full of people shipping you two, demanding you date, and creating even more edits.

What the fans didn’t know was that Walker had texted you again after his post.

Walker: So… dinner sometime? You: Only if you promise to make your own edits of me next time. Walker: Deal.

What started as an embarrassing moment turned into something far more exciting. Maybe the internet had caught Walker in 4K, but for once, you were glad they did.

A/N: HI thank u for the request.

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092

[emsdevs]

If you had "dragged" Jack to the Eras tour he would have pulled out a bracelet he made based on your favorite song. It's a little sloppy but it's the thought that counts. He maybe also got you a clear bracelet to signify your invisible string and held you extra close when she performed it.

a/n: so sorry for the wait nonnie! I hope you like it still because I had wayyy too much fun with this one 🫶

All Too Nervous (Jack's Version)

Jack had been quiet all day. Well, he’s been quiet for the past week or so really. You thought he was excited to go to the Eras Tour with you, but now you weren’t so sure. He’d sat through the grueling ticket-buying process with you, even made you use his card. He had let you buy him matching outfits as well. Jack didn’t want to do anything too crazy for his half, telling you it would be your night so you should be the star of the show. While you had gotten the cutest custom bodysuit, boots, and karma jacket (in Devils’ colors of course), he simply wore a t-shirt with “KARMA” across the chest paired with his favorite pair of jeans and his well-worn AirForces. The outfits were even his idea, taking inspiration from the line “karma is my boyfriend.” 

What you couldn’t understand is why he suddenly seemed so hesitant to go. He was much quieter than usual, and it almost seemed like he was avoiding you for the past week or so. Now, the two of you were in an Uber, heading to MetLife for the show, and it feels like Jack is somewhere else. He has his knees facing away from you, and the only reason you two are even touching is because you grabbed his hand.

————————————————————————

Jack was a nervous wreck. If he’s this nervous about something so small and possibly insignificant, how bad will it be when he proposes? He feels like he might throw up, and he’s not sure why. You’ve always made him a little nervous. He’s always wanted to impress you, but it had never been this bad, not even when he kissed you for the first time. The worst part is that he didn’t even know when he should do it. Should he do it when you two arrive at the stadium? Should it be in between sets? Should he do it during “Love Story”? No, that’s too much like a proposal. Does she perform your favorite song? He could do it then. No, then you would miss your favorite song. He was spiraling while you were excited to see one of your favorite artists. He should not be freaking out so much over a friendship bracelet.

He’d spent the last week and a half working himself to the bone to make a bracelet perfect. He knew trading friendship bracelets was a big part of the fan experience at these shows, and you had mentioned that you’d be making a few to trade and give out. That gave Jack the idea to make you a special bracelet, from him to you. He spent a concerning amount of money on beads and strings, and he listened to more Taylor Swift in that time than he had in his entire life. 

Every chance he got, he was sitting at his kitchen table, trying his best to make a bracelet he thought would be worthy of sitting on your wrist. In between practices, before games, after games, no matter the time it was, if he was free, he was making your bracelet. The first one he made broke two seconds after he cleaned everything up. The second one, he just hated. He couldn’t give a reason, but he did not like it. The third he thought was perfect until he noticed half the letters were upside down.

He set in on the fourth bracelet, really taking his time. He took little details from your favorite songs and added the colors of your favorite albums. Eventually, he had a bracelet he was proud of, mostly. He knew it wasn’t perfect, and that was the main cause of his worries. He had run out of time, unable to make a fifth like he wished he could. This one was okay. It was cute but simple, and Jack knew he could do better. However, this would have to be the one he gives to you tonight, so he could only hope that you’ll like it.

————————————————————————

You and Jack had finally arrived at MetLife. You were walking to the line, ready to inside, when he grabbed your hand, pulling you aside. Just when you open your mouth to tell him the line is the other way, you notice the nervousness on his face and the way he’s keeping his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“I umm… I wanna give you something before we go in. It’s not much, but I… I thought you might like it, and… yeah,” he felt like he couldn’t breathe, terrified you’d hate it. He pulls the bracelet from his pocket, slowly placing it in your now-opened hand. You weren’t saying much, only staring at the bracelet in your palm. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not the best, but I just wanted to do something for you. The beads are kinda of see-through, so you can see the string I used. It’s um… it’s one of the clear ones so it’s like all of our invisible strings. I tried to use the colors from your favorite album too since they’re all color-coded ya know? And-” he was stopped in his tracks when you looked up at him with that bright smile he loves to be the cause of.

“Jack, you made this for me?”  you look away from the blush that’s spread from his neck to his cheeks and the tips of his ears in favor of looking at the bracelet again. He wasn’t lying, you had seen and made better bracelets than this, but none of them meant what this one did. It had colorful, transparent beads in no specific order to pattern, and you could see the clear string he had used to tie them all together through them. In the middle of all the beads were three little white beads with letters on them, Jack's initial and your initial with a heart in between. Honestly, it looks like something an elementary school boy might give to his crush on Valentine’s Day, but you loved it all the same.

“Yeah! I uh spent a lot more time on it than I’m ready to admit,” he let out a chuckle hoping some of his nerves would go with it.

“I love it, Jack. It’s perfect,” you hug him tightly, kissing his cheek as you go in for the hug. You can feel the sigh of relief he lets out at your reaction.

“I’m so glad you like it. Let me help you put it on,” he pulls back grabbing your hand that had no bracelets on the wrist, ready to receive them in trades. He grabs the bracelet, moving to put it on your wrist when he notices something off. “Wait! Is the J upside down? Are you kidding me? I tried so hard to get all the letters the same way on that one,” he sighs as the bracelet finally sits on your wrist where it belongs.

“That one? Did you make more than one, J?”

“Let’s not talk about it. Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a bracelet now? That’s how trading works, Babe.”

You giggle before pulling the perfect bracelet off of your other wrist. You had made it with Jack in mind. It was filled with light green and a few light teal beads, the letter beads in the center reading “OUR SONG”. It was one of Jack’s favorite Taylor Swift songs, and although he’d never admit it to anyone, you two sang it to each other quite often. Well, it was more like you were yelling the lyrics at each other, but you two were having fun. You cherished the smile on his face when he realized what song the bracelet was themed after before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the line.

————————————————————————

That was easily the best night of your life. You were practically buzzing by the time the timer had counted down, and when Taylor popped up from the floor, Jack was wondering how well he’d be able to hear at the end of the night after all your screaming. You two had swayed together during “Lover”, singing to each other while your head lay on Jack’s shoulder. You sang “Fearless” to him, telling him it always makes you think of him (“You run your finger through your hair, absent-mindedly making me want you”? If that isn’t Jack what is?), and he sang “Love Story” to you. You both dramatically sang “tolerate it” to one another, pretending you could relate. When the “reputation” set started, Jack was sure he’d lose his hearing. Either way, both of you were jamming out to every song in the set, Jack being a little more excited for “Look What You Made Me Do” since it reminds him of his career. 

The “Speak Now” era began, and you both sang your heart out to the only song in the set. “Enchanted” had been on your and Jack’s shared playlist since you got together, so it was a little surreal to be singing it with Taylor. In the “Red” era you were lucky enough to get a song added to the setlist, “Nothing New” with Phoebe Bridgers. Soon, you were in “folklore” and singing and dancing to every song. Next was the era you had been waiting for, “1989”. The entire album made you think of Jack, and it was one of the first you were able to talk him into listening to. You screamed the lyrics of “Style” and “Blank Space” to one another, dancing to “Shake It Off” and adding more drama for the “Wildest Dreams” and “Bad Blood” mashup.

Finally, it was time for the surprise songs. Before Taylor even sang anything, she debuted the “Karma” music video with Ice Spice. When she grabbed her guitar, you couldn’t believe your ears. She had begun playing one of your favorite songs, “Getaway Car”, and Jack Antonoff came on stage to help her perform it. When she moved to the piano, she played a song that Jack loved, “Maroon.” When you two finally made it home, you were still reeling.

“Did you enjoy your night, Baby?” Jack asked as he knelt to take your boots off for you.“I had the best night, Jacky! Thank you so so so much! I can’t believe we got all the surprises that we did!” you were still bouncing off the walls, although exhaustion was starting to settle in. After Jack took care of your boots, you both began undressing so you could get ready for bed. Jack watched you carefully take off the bracelet he had given you, placing it in your jewelry box with all the nicest jewelry you own. He’s sure he felt his heart stutter at that moment, but he ignored it in favor of getting ready for bed. Soon, you were both cuddled up in bed, sharing your favorite parts of the night before falling asleep, still tangled up in each other.

tags: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @justxpaulina @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels

join the taglist

[ineffableaddiction]

Mirroring

I know, mirroring is not anything new in Good Omens. I highly appreciate the nuance it takes to build on the same theme through two (or more) seemingly (and sometimes actually) different stories.

There is one that has been stuck in my brain for awhile though.

Let me share….

The Final 15

This has been analyzed from millions of angles, so I’ll be brief. Crowley cleans the bookshop and plans to take Aziraphale to the Ritz. He attempts confession of some sort, only to be interrupted by the angel bringing him good tidings of great joy while looking like The Them when Adam made them smile. The two awkwardly talk, each thinking they’re making grand gestures (and they really are, in their own ways). Things go… not as either of them would have liked. And then… the kiss and aftermath that broke a billion hearts.

This scene has always seemed very Crowley to me. Bold. Grand gestures. Blatantly emotional. (My evil demon drama queen). This scene has an in-your-face impact. There is a reason that almost everyone that saw this had a visceral reaction to it.

NOT the Final 15

But if we pull back, we see a parallel story. A grand gesture. A declaration of love. A missed opportunity to work together.

And…

One of them choosing to go to Heaven.

Think about it. Aziraphale plans a ball in the bookshop, one he’s quite excited about. But, in true Aziraphale fashion, he hides his emotions away and lets the Nina and Maggie coupling attempt to explain away his excitement.

I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me.

Our favorite angel has plans. Is he going to declare his love? Possibly, but maybe not. Will Crowley be invited to live at the bookshop? This seems likely, given the previous ��our car” and “our bookshop” banter. Whatever it is, it’s a step forward.

I would like to spend…

Just look at Aziraphale’s excitement as he asks Crowley to dance.

But…

Hell decides to bust up the party. Not Crowley’s fault, but disappointing.

This is where some things seem to get overlooked.

A group of the two of us

At one point, before Crowley escorts the humans out, Aziraphale asks Crowley to hear his idea. He didn’t say plan - he wanted Crowley’s input. After all, it worked so well when they put their heads together when they were trying to protect Jim.

You can’t leave this bookshop

But Crowley doesn’t listen.

He moves the humans to safety, basically just walking them across the road.

And he doesn’t come back. Instead, he goes to Heaven. Because he thinks it is the way to help everyone.

During the time Crowley was in Heaven, Aziraphale didn’t know where he was. There were demons outside the bookshop. The human-shaped being he loves might be discorporated. Maybe even erased. And he had two humans and an amnesiac archangel to help him protect his and Crowley’s home.

That makes this scene tug violently at my heart:

So, to recap….

1. Heart eyes plans something special

2. This is ruined by occult (or ethereal) beings

3. Heart eyes tries to get their object of affection to stay at the bookshop and work together

4. Object of affection leaves the bookshop anyway

5. Object of affection goes to Heaven because they think it will solve/protect something

Then….

6. Object of affection comes back. They always come back.

We have Aziraphale’s quiet, understated version. We have Crowley’s flash bastard version.

Season 3 will hopefully bring us their version. For them, together is beautifully better.

[nightghoulz]

Headcanons for the Primarchs and tattoos

I’ve wanted to do this for a bit! Some are stereotypical. Some are my guesswork if it’s characters I don’t know as much on. :’)

Lion El’Jonson: oh fuck every time this guy comes up I’m clueless. Like I just know he’s secretive. I’m sorry to the big Lion fans. I either want to be funny and say he has a lion/clock/rose thing or somewhat serious and say a star map of some sort. Or something with a hidden meaning. Someone else can probably give him something better than I can lol.

Fulgrim: His wing pauldron thing is on him in some way, folded over his shoulder. Also has a snake somewhere on him, arm or a leg. Maybe both! He also gets the same tat as my OC so laurel wreath on his collarbones. Fulgrim also has a matching tattoo with Ferrus. It’s something smaller, like a little heart or smiley face on an ankle or wrist. His are all perfectly done with a ton of love put into them.

Perturabo: I don’t know him as well, but he probably has something for Calliphone. A flower or something more ‘delicate’ hidden on his chest so no one else sees it. Has those cool cybernetic sleeve things. I’d want to say the ruler tattoo on his thumb as well, but Dorn has that same one so they can argue over who was first.

Jaghatai Khan: Totally has a super decked out sleeve with all his legion symbols and meaningful things to him. Also probably has American traditional and/or wabori (or anything more bold like that) just for the fun of it.

Leman Russ: Huge wolf back piece I’m so sorry. But it’s really well done. I like making fun of him. Also has those Nordic runes on him. Maybe a moon as well but a certain someone else will get that too.

Rogal Dorn: I think he’d be really into it. I’m not sure if tattoos hurt primarchs, but this could be like his pain glove but more artistic. Someone talked him into it at some point and it stuck. I see him having sentimental things for the family that raised him as well as his legion. Also has some blueprints or functional thing. Has the same ruler tattoo as Perty which causes fights. I think it would be awesome if he’s just covered in them near the end.

Konrad Curze: oh no. I could make fun of him so much but he’s free (for now). I don’t think it’d be a huge focus for him, he has much bigger issues, but he’d have his legions symbol (skull with bat wings) on his chest, just like his armor. Probably has a few more things in the macabre style to cover up anything he’s impulsively done to himself cause idk what happens in those visions. Also they look cool as fuck so it’s cool for the sake of cool.

Sanguinius: Laurel wreath carefully by the base of his wings. Detailed tattoos that look almost like pretty jewelry draped over his shoulders. Everything is symmetrical. And since I heard he took the time to meet every one of his sons, he gladly shares a more symbolic thing with them. Also wondering if his blood would spread his gene flaw around lol (probably not but whatever) so every time it’s super sanitized.

Ferrus Manus: Dude has some cool hands that can change shape so I’ve decided that he can also make them have engravings. So he gets some cool engravings on his forearms/hands that are basically metal tattoos. As for the rest of him, there’s some callbacks to his favorite projects. Probably has a dagger or hammer or something on his back. Matching little heart or smiley with Fulgrim of course.

Angron: Are his red markings on his face tattooed on? I think they are painted but it would be cool if they were tattooed. As well as other marks like them on the rest of him. If he has a more artistic thing, it’s that stereotypical skull and smoke and knives sleeve that every character that serves gets lol. Maybe it would be a distraction from the nails.

Roboute Guilliman: He also has the laurel wreaths since I never ever see him without them. They get to be a tramp stamp since that’s fun. He’s too busy for a lot of this. Has the Latin/high gothic ribbons on him, also probably his collarbones and symmetrical. If any of his sons are bald enough, maybe they get the laurels on the sides of their heads (totally stealing that for a character later) as another badge of honor.

Mortarion: still don’t know him as well so perhaps I’ll just be stereotypical again and give him a bunch of skulls and stuff. Since he’s a smartie too, he has those things tied in as well. Like what plants kill people in a bundle. Maybe those snapdragons that look like emo skulls.

Magnus the Red: nerd ha ha. Okay for realsies, he has cool sorcerer spell stuff on him. And then some in the style of ancient Egyptian art (think hieroglyphics) that you’d see on monuments and tombs. He’s like a monument himself tbh. They look almost like jewelry at points.

Horus Lupercal: This is the astrology dude that has the moon phase tramp stamp or stereotypical spine moon one. His Mournival all some some variation of this too lol. Aside from that, like Lion, has star maps on his skin. Maybe they are subtle. They track his journey through the Great Crusade. Imagine tracing the paths between them (maybe I’ll have to write my first fic later uhhh whoops Ive given myself an idea!)

Lorgar Aurelian: dude is already decked out. There’s no space. He went bald for more space. If he does have space, he gets the gold laurels somewhere too.

Vulkan: bones. Either the dragon skull on his shoulder or something else, but it’s like a whole dig site. Also has flames going up his forearms and they seem to magically glow.

Corvus Corax: emo raven ha ha. But for real, everything with him is some poetic reference. He has a raven, but what is it holding or where is it looking? Towards East where the sun rises for fresh starts? What do the symbols on his arms mean?

Alpharius/Omegon: the tattoos seem to never stay the same. There’s always some slight difference, almost like it’s more than one person…. A line is slightly more jagged on the serpent monster up the arm.

Okay that took me an hour and I’m left with a bunch of ideas now.

[dock57]

[A shorter post. Monkey Wrench has a few continuing gags/jokes I would say. Mainly with Shrike.

My favorite so far is how Shrike keeps getting bind in episodes. I think EP 3 is the only one where he doesn’t get tied up, but he gets tied up in EP 1 by Kara.

In EP 2, by the Lythops (Probably spelled it wrong- don’t have time to look it up, sorry) which has one of my favorite jokes as well.

And of course in EP 4, Shrike is well, cuffed up in a backroom of the Strip Club on Thicc Chick Casino. Ya know for someone who sure doesn’t experience sex- he sure does get wrapped up in a lot of scenarios.

Really this scene killed me. Shrike is so done. He’s trying to fight for his life in the most awkward position and place. Yeah, no wonder Beebs thought something was going on at first- I love how the moment Beebs saw it was Shrike, Beebs is just like “wait- hold up, if Shrike’s involved, this is definitely not what I’m thinking it is.” Either cause he knows that Shrike is usually caught up in trouble or well, maybe knows that Shrike is well, not compatible in that department…

Man though, of all adult shows, I really love how settled the sex humor is in this show. Its not in your face, offensive or feels like it needs to be dragged out or the punchline to every joke or situation for it. I always just wanted an adult show that doesn’t feel like it needs to depended on the typical adult humor or tropes to be entertaining. I just never found those appealing when shows are depended on repulsive behavior, language or jokes, to keep it interesting. I wish there were more adult cartoons that don’t have to be the typical adult cartoon- one that also has a compelling story with interesting characters and plot, but really-

Really is not dependent on what makes a cartoon an “adult cartoon.” Does that make sense? Eh what do I know. Maybe I’ll talk more about it another time.]

[obscureother]

ok one of the two horsemen of the f/o-pocalypse.

What do your f/o's hugs feel like? tight toO TIGHT- but i love them. Very protective hugs. Theyre spooky ghost hugs -v- he doesnt want anyone else to have the hugs but him either. he is stingy for love.

What are your favorite dates to have with them? riding horsies through the forest :D or halloween dates!! i love those <33 keeps him from beheading people or getting too bothered by other demons who mock him sometimes.

What are their favorite dates to have with you? i think he also likes to just go wandering through the forest. he prefers the quiet time together. . doesnt necessarily have to be on horseback, he likes going for walks together on foot. he just prefers, wherever they go, for it to be nighttime, quiet, and no one around for some far ways away that he and his partner can be themselves.

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you? well, the headless horseman song, obvi 👀 all the variants i have and hold for the headless horseman song are all for him. but outside of that. . Elvis "Pocketful of Rainbows" has a lore behind it for him. I would like to find more songs for him tho. . Bing crosby ones maybe, cos thats the guy who narrates the whole thing.

What's the height difference between you and your f/o? with or without the head? /j (sorry i like to goof on him too. dfsd0-)if he had his head tho, i would think he's right below 6-foot, so maybe 5'11" or so. That would make him 8 inches different. His stump is right above eye level for me and s/i 1.

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you? Aethelwolf is very private about affection. . I would say like. . 4/10, cos he'll hold me or s/i 1 so others know not to come close but he won't really be very "affectionate" other than polite gestures like helping off the horse or opening doors before going in after us. Arm around my waist, standing close to me. . sometimes i can get him to hold hand, but ill save that for the later question.

What's your favorite feature about your f/o? i like his laauugghh <33 i set his laugh as my alarm, my ringtone, my notification sound, brr. . i love his laugh so much.

What do you think they smell like? forest -v- like pine trees. . and dust. and dead leaves that are wet. :)) probably horse sometimes.

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love. he is very quiet overall, but he can be very tender in how he holds you. him being gentle in any way is his love language, and giving little things like flowers in your hair or silent good hugs that you know are him trying to tell you "i love you" but he cant get the words out so he squeezes you instead. He also would trust you with his horse. . cos his horse is his beloved. Her name is Rose, she's very sweet <: somewhere in there, there is sort of. . knightly behavior. he will scoop you up and whisk you away into the forest of spooks to take care of you.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them? Aethelwolf doesn't sleep normally lol. He stands guard. Once in a while he will lay down and rest his exhausted ghost energy from riding horses. Where he used to slump by his horse, he now leans on the door frame of the room to keep me or s/i 1 safe, but he does come over to s/i 1 on the bed if she wants to cuddle with him or hold him for a while. he'll hold her until she falls asleep, and then goes back to his self-made "post."

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o? that he carves pumpkins for himself or leaves them for the one he loves or cares about. -v- he's really good at them. he can either slap something together scary, or he'll make very intricate carvings that are like freaking sculptures man. . its so cool. that and he also has a secretly very nice singing voice. . one you could, say, compare to old crooners. . but he doesnt use it hardly ever other than with s/i 1 or through very blue moon occasional humming to them. ok one more- his cape acts as expression for him. it will perk up, deflate, stiffen, etc. . ghost magic lol.

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have? he's sort of. . guardian ghoul to me or s/i 1. quiet, stoic, spurned protector. . and then there is baby. s/i 1 who just thinks he is so cool and spooky and goofy, and the only one he lets tease about his headlessness /sometimes/ because she will kiss his stump. he's the "very temperamental" who gets the "soft cuddlebug" s/o to keep him from blowing his top.

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day? he's very quiet comfort. . he helps un-stimulate, if you will, lol. He'll take me outside to sit under one of the trees and hold me while i empty thoughts or go deeper into them, fiddle with sticks on the ground, sometimes he hums to me. . sometimes he'll get rose to come over to pet her or love on her, brush her mane, things like that. Rose would be the greatest emotional support horse tho.

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like? ah, this. . ok. so, Aethelwolf expresses physically because that is kind of the only way he can. He cannot give kisses or nuzzle into you, so he does hold around your body. Holding hands, tho, is a little. . soft for him. He doesnt mind it, but he's a little awkward to. He gets used to it over time with only s/i 1 or me, but for a very long time and even then, he is not used to having his hand. . held. its been forever since anyone held his hand even when he was alive. Sometimes he fumbles of which way to hold, but once its settled, then so is he. You can feel his nervousness in his grip, but he can be gentle and usually is. Unless he gets mad, then you can feel it getting too tight. . but he doesnt mean to. He gets very soothed if you run your fingers over his knuckles, it kind of. . slows him down before he can get aggravated at whatever is over there.

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) He would give kisses if he could sometimes, i think. What he does instead is make a little. . muppet mouth with his hand, and he'll hold it up to touch on face, my hand, or on occasion to lips. . If he "kisses" hand, he is more vulnerable to holding hands then even tho he is kind of bashful about it. He was very awkward the first time he did this as he felt rather silly. . but because s/i 1 got what he was trying to do and ended up "kissing" him back, he kept going with it. should s/i 1 have not done that, he would have never done it again and probably been embarrassed about it for the rest of his undeath hsbjksf-

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them? i love to give him kisses on his stump, but you gotta be gentle on him there cos its very sensitive. he got his head blown off by a canonball after all. but he loves the stump kisses, they make him soft and mushy -v- I also like giving kisses to his hand, especially if he does the muppet kisses. They make him flustered sometimes when i do it first to him even tho he's used to it a little bit now. i also give him lots of chest and shoulder kisses, sort of like how one would the front of or side of the face if he had one. i do give him kisses when he has a pumpkin head. i kiss him everywhere on the pumpkin head. he gets a little exasperated by it, but in a good way even tho sometimes it knocks it off his shoulders then he has to pick it back up again. 💜

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o? i also like to carve pumpkins with him or we eat candy :0 i can poke the little ones down his throat. its odd, but we make it work. i also like building little twig forts with him outside :0 he gets me outside the most i think tho. . or we collect leaves and show them to each other, or things like that. fall is our time bro. .

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one? he does get very fixated on. . faces, and things like hair. part of it is his own longing for a head yes, but he focuses on them in general. he's oddly very sweet about it when he talks about things, caressing very tender and just. . very lovely. he's not one for words, but they somehow come to him when he is being entranced by one's features. i like the little German pet names he calls me, those are cute. . something different from what i normally hear, and he calls me them more often than Conrad does even though Conrad tends to be the "more German-sounding" of the two in his outbursts. He calls me things like "my fox" or "my vixen," though in German. He does this more often towards s/i 1 personally tho.

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them? i like to call him pumpkin uvu he gets soft about it, sometimes even a little embarrassed, but he doesnt mind it. given i cannot focus on his face like he does me, i usually talk about how good he is with his sword or his horsey, tho sometimes. . i do mention his very black, very fitting outfit. . on occasion. . uvu

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[rosylix143]

sweet as sugar | l. felix

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

synopsis: your boyfriend is coming over to pick you up for a date, and you baked cookies—well at least you tried your best.

cw: MDNI, established relationship, felix is such a tease (woof woof grrrrr), he calls reader a “good girl" and "sweet girl," light grinding, he is very touchy lmao (let me know if i’m missing anything)

wc: 2627

———————————・❥・———————————

The kitchen was a mess. Your frilly pink apron was covered in flour, the ingredients were still scattered all over the kitchen island, and you were just placing another tray of cookie dough in the oven because your first batch got burnt to a crisp. You told yourself to not dwell on your first failure of the day and move on to cleaning up the kitchen. You quickly threw away all of the scraps into the trash, put all the leftover ingredients in their respective places, and wiped down the kitchen island clean. While cleaning and sanitizing the kitchen, your phone suddenly vibrated in your jean pocket. You jolted a little and grabbed your phone to check what it could be. Your eyes widened at the ringing alarm, and you were rushing to get everything all nice and clean as the clock continued to tick.

Fuck, I have fifteen minutes. This is what I get for waking up late.

The kitchen was now clean, but the only thing you now have left to deal with was the tray of burnt cookies. Oh how you hated looking at them. The sight brought tears to your eyes a little. You wanted to throw them out, but you also hated the idea of just wasting food. Maybe the burntness added some special flavor. You would never know. Before you were reaching to grab one of the burnt cookies, your phone buzzed again. You opened your phone once more, and all you got was one singular text. It was the kind of text you typically loved receiving, but only this time, it sent you to another frenzy.

Lixie: i’m on my way, angel baby. see you soon <3

Oh fuck, he’s on his way. You quickly snatched your apron off, and immediately rushed to your bedroom to change into your clothes for the evening: a simple and cute off-the-shoulder baby blue minidress with white knit stockings, a white ribbon to put your hair up in a half ponytail, and of course a pair of baby blue ballet styled shoes. You planned this whole outfit for weeks but couldn’t figure out the right time for it. Well, this was the day for it. After putting on the outfit, you rushed back to the kitchen to check on the new batch of cookies in the oven. The oven started to ring, and that was your queue to take the cookies out. You put on your pink oven mitts, opened the oven, and gradually took the tray out. However, as you were doing so, your doorbell rang.

Felix!!

You quickly put the hot tray and oven mitts down on the kitchen island, closed the oven, and approached your front door—all while trying to stay as composed as possible. You opened the door, and in front of you was your boyfriend standing in the most lethal outfit he could ever put together. First of all, that damn black turtleneck, which fitted him like a glove. You could even see the little sliver of his skin if you looked down at his waist. He was also wearing a pair of black jeans to go with his shirt, and black leather dress boots. He looked like he just walked out of a VIP event or a business meeting or whatever thing rich people do in their free time. Second of all, his sandy blonde hair looked so soft and fluffy that you just wanted to play with it all day until your heart’s content. And finally, his hands were of course occupied with a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, which made you swoon all over again.

“Hey, Handsome,” you giggled.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle too. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in how utterly adorable you looked in your outfit. The way the dress fitted on you, along with the cute stockings made you an enticing sight. Not to mention, all the baby blue: his favorite color, no doubt

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek before handing you the bouquet. “I got these for you.”

“Awww you shouldn’t have,” you took the bouquet in your hands and sniffed it, already entranced by the strong floral scent. “Mmmm it smells wonderful.”

“So does your house,” Felix walked in through the door, already hungry from the smell of freshly bake cookies. “Did you make cookies?”

“Yep, I made some. I just took them out of the oven, so they’re still a little hot.”

Felix nodded and walked to the kitchen, while you went to your living room to put the bouquet in the empty glass vase that was on your coffee table. You realized that you forgot to get water for the flowers, so you went back to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Once you entered the kitchen, you saw Felix enjoying the cookies you made—the burnt ones. Your heart stopped, realizing that you totally forgot to take care of the burnt cookies.

“Felix! Why are you eating the burnt ones?!”

“I didn’t know you were a talented baker, Baby,” he teased, wiping the black crumbs off his lips.

“Oh shut up,” you retorted, walking up to kitchen island and pushing the burnt cookies aside. You then grabbed the tray of perfectly baked cookies and put it in front of Felix. “Why have those when you could have these instead?”

You put your hands on your hips and gave your boyfriend a sassy expression. Felix laughed a little, loving how your pouty lips looked. He grabbed one perfectly baked cookie from the tray and took a bite. His heart immediately melted at the first bite, and his eyes rolled back in pleasure, shamelessly moaning. You couldn’t help but laugh at his honest reaction, all while your cheeks were heating up with that pink glow. He chewed on it softly, intending to savor the warm, delicious, and gooey chocolate taste. There was even a hint of saltiness, which was perfect to his taste.

“Mmm, these do taste delicious,” Felix said before pulling you in by the waist and kissing your temple. “You outdid yourself, Pumpkin.”

“Really?” you blush and nuzzle into his side. Your nose was then hit with a puff of his spicy and sweet cologne. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but get an extra sniff, already making your legs and feel weak.

“Yeah, but the burnt ones are tasty too.”

“You’re lyyyyiiiinnnngggg,” you whined, your voice a little muffled by the fabric of his turtleneck. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, Honey, I’m being for real.”

Felix grabbed a burnt cookie and gently pushed it through your lips. Your eyes widened, and you were immediately hit with the hot taste of charcoal and no sweetness. The burnt cookie was so crunchy that it disintegrated in your mouth. Your tongue felt so sandy and dry, and you immediately rushed to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Felix laughed, as you took a breather from drinking in so much cold water to wash out the awful, ashy taste.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t taste bad,” Felix chuckled.

“It was awful,” you coughed, “That thing felt like chewing on a burning cigar.”

“At least you did better the second time. The non-burnt cookies really are tasty.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course, Angel,” Felix pulled you closer to his body and held you tight. Your cheeks reddened once more, as his arms wrapped around you. His cologne was once again overwhelming your nose, making you feel a little lightheaded. Not to mention, you could feel his abs through his tight black turtleneck, igniting the temptation to just touch him. “And even if they were burnt, I’d still eat it. I love anything my good girl makes.”

His lips were right against your ear, his hands landed on your waist—tightly grabbing you—and his deep whispers sent shivers up and down your spine. You blushed even more. Your cheeks might as well be a second heater. It wasn’t helping that you could feel his hands slide down your thighs—his fingertips sneaking a little up under your dress.

“Feeeeelllliiiixxxxxx,” you whined again, squirming in his touch. “Don’t tease meeeee.”

Felix laughed and kissed your neck tenderly, sniffing your very fragrant and sweet perfume, immediately recognizing the scent.

“You’re wearing the perfume I bought you,” he said, “Mmm…You smell so sweet with it. Sweet like sugar.”

Felix kissed your neck more, and you melt into his touch, letting his hands wander on your skin and do whatever they pleased. You couldn’t help it yourself when you teasingly rolled your hips back up against Felix’s front, coaxing a deep groan out of him. You giggled, but it was cut off when he gripped your hips tighter and pulled you closer. You hitched a breath, and Felix pinned you against the counter. You were facing the sink, while Felix was behind you, holding all the power of the world in his hands.

“Felix—”

“You look so pretty today, Y/N…” Felix whispered in your ear, his voice so deep and husky. “My sweet girl always looks pretty for me, yes? That cute dress is very tempting.”

Your breath was coming out in small pants, and your face was probably redder than a rose. Felix still held you tight and nibbled on your ear, as he gently rubbed the growing tent in his pants up against your ass. You whined and arched your back against his chest. The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering faster, making all the heat rush and pool down to your core. You were on the verge of dropping your panties right there in the kitchen. However, you remembered that you wanted to go through with the original plan for the date first before doing anything else.

“Felix, wait,” you started.

“What’s wrong?” Felix pulled away slightly and stopped his movements—his hands still on your hips.

You turned around and faced him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You looked deep into his pretty chocolate eyes, and gently ran your fingers through the back of his sandy blonde hair, tugging it a little.

“We have a movie to watch, remember?”

A small smile formed on Felix’s lips, and he leaned in to kiss your plush lips.

“How could I forget?” he asked, “What movie are we watching again?”

Felix stepped away from you to give you space, for you were moving to gather all the good cookies and put them in the cookie jar and throwing away the burnt ones.

“Beauty and the Beast,” you answered, as you grabbed a bag you prepared—full of other movie snacks and drinks—and put the cookie jar in the bag. “They’re showing it at the drive-in theater.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Felix smiled warmly at you, ready to watch his favorite movie with his favorite person.

You left the bag on the kitchen island to grab a small measuring cup, filled it with water, and walked to the living room to finally water the new bouquet of flowers. You grabbed your purse from the couch and then went back to the kitchen to grab the snack bag. You looked up at your boyfriend with fond eyes.

“Ready to go, Hon?” you smiled.

Felix looked at you back with loving eyes, and went in for a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Of course, I am,” he said softly.

With triumph, you excitedly rushed to exit your house and get in the passenger’s seat of Felix’s car. Felix couldn’t help but laugh fondly, loving how excited you are to spend the evening with him. He closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it with the spare key you handed him. Felix then got in the driver's seat of his car and started the engine.

“Is it the same theater we went to last time?” he asked.

“Yep,” you replied.

Felix nodded, and he buckled his belt, as did you. He pulled away from the driveway, and he started the drive to the theater. You laid back in your seat like a passenger princess, and you were beginning to snack on the cookies you made. Felix looked over at you, and he couldn’t help but put his hand on your thigh. You blushed as he squeezed your soft flesh. Drives with him were always like this. The city lights were sparkling and shining so bright, your favorite songs were in the background, and your boyfriend was holding onto you while you looked through your window.

Your stomach growled a bit, and there was some pain too. You remembered that you got so caught up with baking the cookies that you forgot to actually eat something. You reached down to your feet and grabbed the cookie jar from the snack bag and took one cookie. You snacked on the cookie you grabbed, and Felix snuck a glance at you enjoying your little treat. A few minutes later, you both finally arrived at the drive-in theater. Felix parked the car in front of a very large screen, and he turned on the radio for the movie. You then pulled out more snacks for you both to enjoy, along with some soda.

“Tonight’s gonna be fun,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Felix also unbuckled his belt, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmhmm….” he agreed, immediately nuzzling into your neck, kissing it softly. Your face glowed pink, and you couldn’t help but squirm from the ticklish feeling. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Honey,” you ran your hand through his sandy blonde hair, taking in a moment to feel his softness, but you immediately bursted into laughter when his hand started touching your lower stomach, his fingers dancing. “Felix!! That tickles!!”

“Sorry, Angel Baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

The movie was about to start, and the two of you got even more comfortable in your car seats. You handed Felix a soda bottle, and you grabbed one for yourself. Felix took his bottle and started to sip on it, while you started snacking on the chips.

“Can I have one, Y/N?” he asked.

“Okay,” you nodded.

You handed Felix the cookie jar, and Felix happily grabbed another cookie for himself. He placed a kiss on your temple, inhaling the scent of your lovely floral shampoo. He then opened his mouth wide and took the sweet treat into his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction, falling in love with the warm, sweet, and chocolatey taste all over again.

“Hmmm…what’s the secret ingredient, Pumpkin? How are your cookies better than mine?”

“I used the same recipe, Honey,” you replied.

“My recipe?”

You only nodded, and Felix was shocked by your answer. The same recipe, yet different tastes. Perhaps there really was some magic touch that you had, or maybe the cookies tasted better because it was you who made them.

“You think they’re better?” you asked, your heart fluttering with warm excitement.

“Yes, they’re way better. Even when they’re burnt.”

“Feeellliiiixxxx.”

“It’s true, Honey, it’s true.”

The movie finally began, and you focused your attention on the movie, while Felix had most of his attention on you. He wanted to pay attention to the movie and let you enjoy it yourself, but he just couldn’t help it. He was addicted to you. You were just too good and too sweet to simply ignore. Felix nuzzled his head into your neck once more, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume. God, he loved that scent. It was the scent of flowers and wine. The sweetest you could ever be. But nothing could ever compare to the sweetness of you—sweeter than sugar.

———————————・❥・———————————

a/n: i don’t know if i like this one as much as my last felix fic but oh well lol. comment down your thoughts and reblog if you liked it <3

masterlist | taglist

[wowowokay]

Sorry this is a day or two late but here are some more fic recs!! Also these are Batman fic recs but Tim Drake centric (I’m obsessed with Tim so don’t be surprised if I semi frequently post Tim drake centered fics lolol)

(Also there will be a note at the bottom)

Everybody Knows - White_bread_with_a_wig

Hilarious fic basically Tim never became Robin and instead took over drake industries at a young age and he accidentally reveals JL secrets he didn’t realize were secrets during an interview and now he has a bunch of hero’s and rogues him!

Words: 7,728 Chapters: 1/1

I’d kill myself if you ever leave - Violettavonviolet

Basically Tim realizes the mistreatment he received as Robin while he watches how Bruce treats Damian 4+1 fic really good I don’t know how to explain more about it without spoiling sorry 🥲

Words: 3,492 Chapters: 1/1

Red Robin: Undead - bridgesburn

Amazing fic but I’ll be totally honest it’s been a minute since I’ve read it but I totally remember most of it!! I just don’t want to accidentally spoil anything so here’s the authors summary!! And I left some of my own description? Thoughts? At the end!

Death is usually the end. Finality. That's kind of the definition of it.

And falling several stories toward concrete usually meant death. Timothy Drake had certainly assumed as much in the final seconds before he hit the sidewalk at terminal velocity.

But Tim should have realized that, given the complexity of his life, his death would never be that cut and dry.

Enter: a severed head, ten missing months, and an immortal cult leader.

A little less simple. And for some reason, Jason Todd seems to have some answers to his missing months and the violent urge that curdles beneath his skin.

(Yet again amazing fic!! It has some hilarious comedic points and it’s just amazingly well written and the plot doesn’t disappoint it’s just mwah! Amazing!!)

Words: 167,318 Chapters: 25/25

Note: okay that’s all the fics for today!! Also thank you to the people who started following me and left likes and reblogged!! Seriously it’s insane!! But I also wanted to just talk about maybe a posting schedule? I think I’ll be trying to post every other day? I definitely wanna keep some kind of schedule cause I love reading fics (obviously) and I’d love to be able to recommend some of my favorites to you guys!! But warning the amount of fics I’m recommending might fluctuate it depends on how busy I am since I work and I’ll be going back to school soon unfortunately 😭 but yeah! Also I will most likely be recommending Batman and Marvel fics but also occasionally my hero academia, Percy Jackson/Heros of Olympus and Voltron! (I’m not finished with reading Heros of Olympus but when I am there will probably be a flood of those fic recs lolol) also sorry if my grammar is horrendous English may be my first and only language but I still suck at it lolol but yeah! I hope you guys enjoy!!! :))

[joelmillerisapunk]

OH MY GOD??? The intensity here is unreal. This fic punches you in the gut and refuses to let go, it’s suffocating in the best way. The tension between the reader and Javier is so raw, so visceral, it feels like you’re standing in the room with them, choking on the unbearable weight of heartbreak and desire. The intricate web of emotions is just chef's kiss—anger, betrayal, obsession, need—it’s all laid bare, tangled in this messy, intoxicating relationship.

The prose is so vivid and detailed that you can practically feel the damp heat of the shower, the sharp sting of the reader’s heartbreak, and the way Javier’s presence overwhelms everything like a tidal wave. The moral ambiguity is written so perfectly—it’s masochistic, it’s destructive, but it’s also undeniably human.

The way the story captures Javier’s complexity—his arrogance, his fragility—is pure poetry. And the reader’s inner turmoil? That delicate balance of anger and longing, her refusal to let go even when she knows she should? It’s painfully relatable in the best (and worst) way.

The sex isn’t just sex—it’s this volatile, emotional battleground where their love and hate collide. It’s messy, flawed, and oh-so-human. The power dynamics, the desperation, the unspoken confessions buried in every kiss, every thrust—this is messy, it’s painful, it’s addictive. You’ve written something that just lingers with you long after reading. Freckles!!!! You’ve wrecked me, and I’m thanking you for it. Honestly, I need a cigarette (I don't smoke), a drink, and maybe therapy after this. Some of my fave lines cause the entire thing is my favorite <3

You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationship Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground. His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable. You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart You come, weeping. Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.But there’s no hope anymore. You know you can’t go on like that.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel. There will be two broken hearts.  You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. None of this happens. The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[wchswift]

HABZHSBAH HIII LINAAA (it's me again 😭) gosh i don't want to appear as a desperate but it seems that you're the only who opens your request for leopold 😔😭

just a small request :3 from a prompt that i encountered "... sorry, i talked too much" "no no no not at all, keep talking. i love listening to you."

well, we all know what a gentleman leopold is HABSUSBSH (I NEED HIM SO BAD MY BABY), i don't have any plot in mind so maybe you could create yours based on the prompt?? thank you!! (i love your writings)

Every Word You Say

Pairing: Leopold Mountbatten x Reader Content: strangers to friends to lovers (kind of), yapping, fluff, reader is a bookworm, Leopold is head over heels, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2.6k (maybe I got a little excited) a/n: HIII ZAYN BESTIE!! I'm so happy you're sending me requests yayy, thanks to you I could write to Leopold my baby again (pls keep going)! okay I have to admit that I loved this prompt and maybe I got a little carried away about the plot... Maybe I've strayed a little from what you wanted (I hope not), but I really hope you like it cause I really enjoyed writing it <3

It was a good afternoon. The store was quiet, as usual, with only a few customers coming and going and not much activity. Afternoons like that were nice—there wasn't much work to do, but sales were enough to keep the place from feeling forgotten. This allowed some time to relax behind the counter and arrange books on the shelves.

The faint jingling of the brass bell above the door broke the comforting silence of the shop. The sound made her look up from the stack of books on the counter, brushing a stray hair from her face as she spotted the man who had just entered.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, with an air of calm that seemed at odds with the frenetic city outside. His coat was neatly buttoned, his shoes polished, and he carried himself with a poise that made her pause. New Yorkers weren’t usually this... composed. It was weird. But most importantly, he was so beautiful.

“Hi, good afternoon,” she greeted, flashing him a polite smile. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Thank you,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, the kind of voice that made even the most mundane words sound elegant.

She went back to organizing her stack of books, sneaking a glance now and then as he browsed. He moved slowly, as though savoring the sight of each title, his fingers brushing over the spines like they were relics. Finally, he stopped at the classics section and pulled out a leather-bound book.

He turned to her, holding the book aloft. “This edition of The Odyssey... it’s rather splendid. Do you recommend it?”

She blinked, surprised at his formality. “Oh, definitely. It’s one of my favorites. That edition has some great commentary in the back, too. Though, fair warning, if you get me started on books, I might not shut up.” She confessed, her tone amusing but gentle.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I assure you, I regret nothing. Please, continue.”

She smiled genuinely at him, feeling a small flutter of surprise at his response. Most people gave a polite nod or chuckle when she rambled, but this man seemed really interested. Encouraged, she leaned against the counter, her hands gesturing animatedly as she began talking.

“You can’t go wrong with The Odyssey,” she said. “I mean, it’s a classic for a reason, right? Epic journeys, gods meddling in human affairs, monsters… And don’t get me started on Odysseus himself. Brilliant, but also kind of an idiot, if you ask me.” She laughed, then quickly added, “Oh, but you know... I mean that in the best way, of course.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Hm, Is that so? Fascinating perspective. You find fault with his decisions?”

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, warming to the topic. “Some of his problems are his own fault—like the whole Cyclops thing? That could’ve been avoided if he’d just kept his mouth shut. But that’s what makes him interesting. He’s flawed. Human. It makes the story feel timeless, even though it’s thousands of years old.”

As the words tumbled out of her, she noticed his expression soften. His gaze didn’t waver, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he were cataloging every word she said.

So she just kept talking, completely oblivious to him or how he was mesmerized watching her, the excitement and ease with which she lost herself in the topic. After a moment like that, it was like something hit her, realizing how much she’d been talking, she stopped abruptly, her cheeks heating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. You came for the books and probably weren’t expecting an impromptu lecture on Greek mythology.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening. “Not at all. Your enthusiasm is... refreshing. Please, go on.”

Her lips twitched in a smile of her own. “You’re dangerous, you know that? Most people try to shut me up, but not you. You’re encouraging me.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would wish you to stop,” he replied earnestly.

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She licked her lips, momentarily speechless and lost in him. After that, she just knew she would want to keep him in her life for as long as possible.

After that, it didn’t take long for him to return.

As she rearranged a display near the window the next afternoon, the bell above the door jingled again. She glanced up, half-expecting the usual flow of customers, only to see the same man from the day before.

He greeted her with the same polite nod and reserved smile, his gaze sweeping over the shop like he was committing every detail to memory.

“Back so soon?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He stopped near the counter, his posture impeccably straight. “I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. And I have a fondness for bookshops.”

“Well, then you’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing to the shelves around them. “Find anything interesting today?”

He paused, his gaze flicking to the classics section before returning to her. “Not yet, but I have no doubt you will recommend something.”

“Challenge accepted,” she said, already scanning the shelves in her mind for the perfect book. "Oh, sorry. What's your name again?"

As the days passed, Leopold's visits became routine. He would step into the shop with that same calm air, and they would talk—about books, history, the city, and whatever topic struck her fancy. He never seemed to mind when she rambled, always listening with the kind of focus that made her feel like the most fascinating person in the room. Something she wasn't even a little bit used to, by the way.

Their interaction was so easy and natural. When she talked to him, was always exciting and gave her a feeling of comfort. So it wasn't exactly a surprise when she quickly grew accustomed to his presence. It was strange how easily he fit into the rhythm of her days, even though she knew so little about him.

Each time he came in, she found herself lighting up in ways she hadn’t expected. She would recommend books, tease him about his formal speech, and talk about whatever was on her mind, and he never failed to listen with unwavering attention. She never, not once, felt uncomfortable or unseen in his presence. He was like a prince in a fairy tale.

One rainy afternoon, as she stacked a new shipment of books behind the counter, the man who wouldn't leave her thoughts walked in with droplets clinging to his coat and hair. She glanced up, smiling automatically.

“Caught in the rain, huh?” she asked, setting down the stack.

“Indeed,” he said, brushing water from his sleeves. “Though I find it a small price to pay for the solace this shop provides.” He complimented, in his usual formal way.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always know how to make the place sound fancier than it is. It’s just a bookshop, you know.”

He tilted his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. “To you, perhaps. To me, it is quite extraordinary.”

The quiet sincerity in his voice made her breath catch for a moment. She quickly looked away, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“Well,” she said, her tone lighter, “if you’re going to keep flattering the place, I should at least give you a tour of the neighborhood. There are some other spots I think you’d like—if you’re interested.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, as though the suggestion surprised him. “I would be delighted,” he said, feeling his heart race.

This finally happened two days later.

The city bustled around them, cars honking and voices blending into a constant hum, but she took him down quieter streets, pointing out her favorite spots.

“This café has the best pastries,” she said, gesturing to a small storefront with a faded awning. “And the park a few blocks down is great if you need to get away from all this.”

He listened attentively, nodding at her words but occasionally glancing around with a furrowed brow, as though trying to make sense of his surroundings.

When they reached a crosswalk she stepped forward without thinking, only to realize he hadn’t moved. She turned back to see him standing on the curb, watching the cars zip by with a look of mild apprehension.

“Hey, you coming?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Is it always this... chaotic?” he asked, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Pretty much. You just have to commit to it.” She grabbed his arm lightly, tugging him forward as the light changed. “Come on—don’t think, just go.”

He followed reluctantly, muttering under his breath, “This city has no regard for decorum—or the sanctity of life.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I swear you'll get used to it. Well, eventually.”

As they walked through the park, the noise of the streets faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of joggers. She led him to a bench near a small fountain, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she said, leaning back with a contented sigh.

He settled beside her, his posture as upright as ever. “It is... quieter than I expected,” he admitted. “Rather pleasant, in fact.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she said, smiling. “You know, You're not as hard to please as you seem.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching in a faint smile. “Oh, I imagine this is good?”

She laughed softly, and for a moment they sat in comfortable silence, watching the fountain's water ripple in the breeze. They enjoyed being at peace, simply appreciating each other's company.

That evening, he returned to the bookshop. The streets were quieter now, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor as she tidied up before closing.

He lingered by the counter as she talked, her words spilling out in an excited stream as she recounted a childhood memory sparked by a book she’d come across earlier that day.

“So when I was ten, I had this phase where I was obsessed with The Secret Garden,” she said, gesturing as she spoke. “I even convinced my dad to help me plant this tiny garden in our backyard. Except, I was an awful gardener—I kept forgetting to water it, and half the flowers were just weeds I thought looked cool.”

She laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “But I’d still sit out there for hours, waiting for my own magical door to appear. My dad always called it my ‘weed palace.’”

Leopold chuckled softly, his smile warm. “A ‘weed palace,’ you say? Peculiar, but at the same time charming.”

“Well, maybe to you,” she replied, grinning. “To everyone else, it was probably an eyesore.”

She paused, glancing at the clock and suddenly realizing how long she’d been talking. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at him.

“Oh God... I’m sorry, I talked too much. I really need to learn when to stop.”

Leopold, who has been utterly captivated, loses the humor in his eyes, his expression shifting to something quieter, warmer as he tries to reassure her.

“No, no, not at all. Keep talking. I love listening to you.” he said softly.

Her breath caught at the earnestness in his voice, the way his gaze held hers as though he truly meant every word. For a few seconds, she could only stare, her usual quick wit failing her.

“Thanks,” she murmured finally, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

The warmth in his eyes didn’t waver, and in that quiet moment, the bustling world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

A comfortable silence settled in for a few minutes. Leaving them there, just staring at each other, observing each other. For a moment, she didn't know what else to say. People didn’t usually look at her the way he was now—like every word she said was worth hearing. It was flattering, a little unnerving, but mostly... nice. She blinked a few times, adjusting her posture while lightly playing with her hair, hoping to dispel the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

The quiet between them was the kind of silence that felt full, warm, and fascinating. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, glancing at him as he remained by the counter, looking as though he had something more to say.

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice soft. “You know, you’re a pretty good listener. Most people get bored with my stories halfway through.”

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile she was beginning to adore. “I find your stories enchanting. They are... a window into a world I often feel I’m only just discovering.”

Her brow furrowed at the odd phrasing, but before she could question it, he stepped a little closer, his hands gently resting on the counter. His gaze softened, the usual formality in his expression giving way to something more vulnerable.

“It’s rare,” he continued, his voice low, “to find someone who speaks with such passion. Most people... say so little of consequence. But you—your words, your thoughts—they breathe life into even the most mundane things.”

Her heart gave a tiny flutter, and she felt warmth creep up her neck again. “That’s... really sweet of you to say,” she murmured, looking down at her hands.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face. He took a deep breath, then, with a soft, deliberate motion, tilted his head to meet her eyes. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable as he declared, “I speak only the truth.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a spark of something unnameable through her chest, and she met his gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she said lightly, trying to steady her voice, “if you keep flattering me like that, I might start to think you enjoy my company.”

His smile deepened, feeling more real, with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I should hope that has been apparent for some time.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re kind of a mystery, you know that? But... I think I like that about you.”

“And you,” he said, his tone softening again, “are an open book. A rare and beautiful one.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The faint glow of the shop’s dim lighting reflected in his eyes, and the quiet hum of the world outside seemed to fade entirely. She momentarily dropped her gaze to his lips before his voice brought her back.

“Would you,” he began, his voice careful, almost hesitant, “permit me the honor of accompanying you on another of your walks? Perhaps tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, her heart racing in a way that felt new and thrilling, together with the urge to jump into his arms. “I think I’d like that,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

He straightened slightly, a look of quiet satisfaction crossing his face. “Then it’s settled.”

As the bell above the door jingled softly, signaling his departure, she stood there for a moment, watching him disappear into the night. She closed her eyes as a painful smile appeared on her face, she quickly did a happy dance before lightly resting her hands on the counter.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[yandere-paramour]

I know the yans are busy people but is it too much to just go into their work space ect and just lay my head on their lap I'll even sit on the floor and be quiet just want their presence after a long day in some pj's:). Maybe they can mummer a few acknowledgements in the air, but that's about it. (Even though I want to slap ata and noelle cuz they drive me insane with their actions, i don't even care, need them rn)

Ah, this is such a sweet scenario. I'm gonna try hard for this one.

Vivien has a laptop. It's old and not too expensive, but he only really uses it to run his online shop and watch anime. He's got a ton of new orders for essential oil blends lately, and he's been boiling things all weekend. You miss him, you want his attention. Shuffling over, you tug on his shirt, and with one glance, he knows what you want. His laptop is abandoned, and he lifts you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom to his "nest". The couch is good for quick cuddling, but both of you want this to last. He spoons you from behind, curling himself around your form at an angle that must have his back hurting, but Vivien doesn't mind. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, pressing kisses to your shoulders, quietly murmuring to you. He doesn't say much. He doesn't need to.

Noelle loves working near you. She has her own office in the apartment, and she does like it in there, but she likes being next to you better. You're usually in your Soothing room, watching a movie on the daybed or painting or reading. Noelle always sneaks in, she's small so it's easy for her to sneak, but you know the smell of her body wash. She always cuddles up next to you, working on her laptop as she snuggles into your shoulder. She doesn't work very long; she can't when you're awake next to her. Her laptop is forgotten, set on the floor as Noelle entwines herself with you. Whatever you both are doing is now ignored; it's just you, her, and the soft noises of the sitcom in the background. Noelle might even be able to get a little sleep, as long as you're with her.

You are always welcome in Atalanta's office. You come to visit her a few times a week, sit on your spot on the couch, and bother her while she reads emails. But your favorite time is right before bed. Atalanta gave you her attention from the moment she got home. She bathed with you, ate with you, and spent some time watching one of your shows that you know she only tolerates. You've had lots of her attention, but you want more. She's reading, as she always does before bed. If you were any less whiny right now, you might feel bad about disturbing her, but you don't. You lay your head onto her lap, right in the middle of her book, and look up at her.

She raises a quizzical eyebrow, "Yes? Do you need something, Darling?"

"You're not paying attention to me."

Atalanta smiles, and closes the book, setting it back down on the nightstand, "Well, we can't have that. Come here, love."

She pulls you to lie properly on her lap, stroking your hair with her right hand as she caresses your face with her left.

"You're so lovely, my Darling. You're everything," She whispers, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

[flusteredfools]

Only three days for this poll instead of a week; I feel it should be plenty of time for those who want to have a say! This poll is to let me know which order I should write the fics in and I'll stick to this plan until all four are finished; with the exception of random drabbles and MerMay (cause sometimes I'm slow OTZ)

So please vote for which you want to read first! Info snippets & chibi art below!

Oh and maybe reblog so more people can see & vote too 👉👈

Faeful Hearts II

The continuation for Faeful Hearts (which you can read part one here!)

This part focuses on what comes after the Artisan Y/n's marriage to Sun and Moon; little halfling Fae babies, their romance route taken with Fae Leader Eclipse and a bit more about what's going on since William's imprisonment. You'll learn more about Eclipse's past as well as what he hopes is his future (spoiler alert: his future is you).

We Can Serve You Better II

The continuation for We Can Serve You Better, Than They Can (which you can read part one here - but please note it is NSFW)

Congratulations your Royal Highness, your curse is broken and you've found your true loves! It's time to start working on that 'happily ever after' you've always read about in fairytales. Just because you're no longer cursed to feel lust every night doesn't mean you don't still end up that way now that Sir Moon and Sir Sun are more forward with their affections. You have a encounter with the very Sorcerer who placed the curse on you in the first place, but this time she gives you a gift for finding your true love(s) and breaking her curse; a gift that is nothing short of a miracle, a bundle of joy, love and happiness that the three of you thought would never be possible.

Summer Daze

(You can read the summary here or browse snippets/teasers on my blog)

Summer loving happens so fast! Specially when you fall head over heels for your camp counselor coworkers who start off not wanting you to work with them at all. Slowly you prove your worth and start to think it's all is smooth rowing from there...until another counselor comes by and rocks the boat, making your summer dreams ripped at the seams.

Naga'na Let You Go

Poor little Flaminglet runt Y/n becomes abandoned and fed to the snakes; more specifically, Naga Snakelets at Fazco's MegaZoo. They try their best to run and hide from the young Nagas, though they unknowingly hide away in two Naga's favorite 'secret base'. The two friends had never seen or heard of a Harpy before, though you've certainly have heard of the terrifying beasts that are Nagas. The young snakelets are quite curious, wanting to know everything they possibly can about you; not seeming to understand that they're what's causing you to be so distressed... From childhood friends to cross species lovers? At least that's what the Naga's are hoping for.

[ghost-of-morrowbright]

Ok so I absolutely love everything about this post. I've written about my love for this scene before, so I'll be paraphrasing myself a bit. The moment where Gil-galad glances down at Elrond is actually my favorite moment of his thus far. But first, Elrond.

100% agreed that Elrond is suffering from trauma-induced disassociation here. And that yes, this is certainly his first command of this nature and size; it may well be his first time even participating in a battle of this scale. In addition to the burden of command, he is also carrying the added weight of Earendil's "prophecy" that one day Celebrimbor's life would be in his hands. If he can only hold out until dawn, and Durin's reinforcements, then they will be able to save Celebrimbor and the city, and maybe, just maybe, the lives lost under his command would not have been completely in vain. When dawn comes, he is physically and mentally exhausted after a night of bloodshed, loss, and trauma, but is clinging onto that sliver of hope that Durin will come and save the day. When Durin doesn't arrive as expected, it's the proverbial last straw for Elrond, and he simply.... breaks.

And yes, agreed that Gil-galad recognizes Elrond's break for what it is. Ben Walker has suggested that even though Gil-galad may not know the specifics of what's in his future, he has a general sense that his time in Middle-earth is... limited. I wonder if in that moment he also glimpses what that might mean for Elrond. I wonder if he regrets giving the command to Elrond, that he could take it back if he could, but of course he can't. I suspect he also knows that this will likely not be the last time he sees his herald's heart break. So yes, absolutely he is going to be having more than one feeling about it.

Thank you again for this beautiful post and your perspective on this scene.

Gil-galad sees Elrond showing legit signs of shock on the field in Eregion.

And I think Gil-galad is about to have more than one feeling about it.

Gil-galad gave Elrond command on the field in Ost-in-Edhel -- fully gave him command of all troops on the field. Elrond led their charge (Gil was right there beside him with an encouraging face, like "you call it, son, whenever you're ready, we go." Gil-galad pulled back during that charge, along with all other troops, at Elrond's command. Elrond was also the commander on the field who negotiated with Adar, general to general - Gil-galad was not involved, was not consulted on that conversation. I get no sense from show-universe that Elrond commanded large groups of troops before he led here. In fact, Adar calls out Elrond's lack of experience — though Adar notes he talks a good game.

This was Elrond’s show because Gil-galad asked him to run it. Promoted him to be there and lead at least 500 elves to battle.

And THIS is the exact moment that Gil-galad starts to see signs of Elrond's potential or growing PTSD*:

"Oh....oh, ope, yep, he's down. Yeah, no, buddy is down. Okay. Stay there, lil dude. Fuckin' Form Ranks, I guess, all twenty of you still mentally with me, let's ball YOLO (sorta)."

Yes, Elrond absolutely can swing a sword like a tank and led effectively and got it done, but that doesn't mean it's who he is and that it won't affect him. Gladriel talks about the sound of singing mocking the battle cries in her ears.

How easily can Elrond live with the choices he had to make that killed many, many elves who entrusted their fates to him? THAT was what broke him on the field, before they were captured or ever walked into the courtyard.

So...how easily will Gil-galad handle this additional pain he may have helped cause in this young man he loves?

*clarification: As someone with diagnosed, active PTSD under treatment, I’m not using the term lightly. Disclaimers of all kinds, as some have come into my blog before and oh-so-helpfully explained to me why I should not speak of my own diagnosis in certain terms. Well, Jan, it might not be the terms y’all use over there, but over here? When we see dissociation, we call it out as a flag. I’m the one with dreams so vivid I’m afraid to go to sleep. For fuck’s sake, Jan.

[honeyhonest]

No but being in Yuu's shoes and being in a relationship with Eric can be fun to torture Vil, of course depending on the relationship between you and Vil. Vil is your ex-boyfriend who treated you badly? Fuck his dad. Vil is being a little shit to you and your friends? Fuck his dad. Vil is your enemy? I think you know what to do. He'll hate you more. Also, you can break his heart if he has a crush on you. It seems like all those scenarios are the same but they have those little differences that make them all unique in their own way. Well, the only thing that remains is that Vil has to put up with seeing you at school while you're with his dad.

Also, can we have a sugar daddy fight? I think Eric has the potential to be one of the best sugar daddies. A great rival would be Crewel. He seems to appreciate Vil too.

(By the way, I love Vil. So this isn't hate propaganda against him.)

warning for intoxication in this post lolz minors dni etc

I love vil also but sometime you have to torture the blond man a little yk

orz the possibilities... I love revenge sex in stories, I love drama, etc, my favorite of these is definitely the first except this: vil was a really good (perfect) boyfriend, but he dumped you right before/after graduating NRC so he could focus on his career. he told you he just couldn't imagine finding the time for a relationship with his schedule, and school was one thing, but now he's an ~adult~ and he needs to get serious about his career. it wouldn't be fair to stress and burden you with his work, after all

and you let him because, well, it's vil. once his mind is made up on something, it's almost impossible to dissuade him. you have friends, and you try to talk to them, but nothing really helps. not even rook can cheer you up

and one night you're really feeling it, the sadness, the loneliness, the rejection, maybe you're scrolling through vil's magicam and looking at his perfect life, how your absence meant nothing to him, and you're desperate for his comfort but you can't have that, so you have the next best thing. next thing you know, your ex's middle-aged father is taking you out for a drink and a talk to ease your worries. in the blur of alcohol and laughter, you think he almost looks like vil, but not so strict, not so stressed

he's very charming, too. how have you never noticed? before tonight he was always so cordial, friendly but distant. perhaps it's only the alcohol, perhaps you had just been so wrapped up in vil's glamor you never gave erik a second thought. but he's really quite funny, isn't he? he keeps making jokes, teasing you, it's almost friendly. and he's a flatterer, too, you're sure he's never complimented you so much in your life

but he's only trying to cheer you up, right? this was the man who was going to be your father-in-law, you thought

...but now he's just a man, and one who happens to be buying you plenty of drinks and complimenting your smile, at that

you both end up a little more tipsy than you'd meant to, but you're having fun, and for the first time in weeks, you're not thinking about... what was his name, again? you can't even bring yourself to mope, everything is a little blurry, isn't it?

and you both end up in his house, somehow, and he tells you that vil is doing a shoot in fleur city this weekend, so don't worry too much about waking him, you can make as much noise as you want, it's just you and erik

and it's you that ends up on your back, or on your hands and knees, or bent over the marble counter in the stupidly expensive kitchen, or, more likely, all three over the course of the night, getting stretched out on his cock, his grunts in your ear and his breath on your neck, telling you how good and beautiful you are, how long he's wanted this-

I think he'd like to see you, your stomach or thighs or back, covered in his cum when he's done. such a lewd position you never should have been in

and you tell yourself, in the morning, that it was just a spur of the moment thing. you were just emotional, you were both drunk, and alone, and it won't happen again

it will. it does. vil is going to have a queen-sized meltdown when he finds out, of course, but for now, y'know, being a sugar baby isn't that bad

you still find it a little ironic how erik, who is just as, if not more career-oriented than vil, still has time in his busy schedule to see you >_>

[realityinsuspense]

one step closer | chapter 4: day off

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen" ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other's lives. that was your plan. that's how you've always done things, and you've gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutal pining

--a/n: oh. my. god. hello to anyone still out there reading and happy 2025! this chapter has been a loooong time coming. had lots of life stuff going on, holidays, writers block, and overall perfectionism held me back from updating any sooner. as i re-read and proofread my work, i get quite tangled up in characterization and how i want the story to flow, which then holds me back because i suddenly want my work to be 100% perfect. but that in itself also holds me back from improving in general. thank you for your patience, and i ask for your grace as i navigate and continue to grow as a writer. thank you, love you, mwah! enjoy!! <3 (and again, there is a taglist, just let me know ^-^)

words: 6.8k

~

chapter 4: day off

12 years ago

The late spring air began to cool as the sun set, a light breeze kissing your skin. Summer was approaching. It was your favorite time of the year, and you usually couldn’t contain your excitement: longer days, vacation trips, and even something as simple as getting ice cream at the convenience store with your friends. You guys would hang out at the park nearby, sitting at the benches—laughing, talking. This summer was supposed to be special—your last summer break together with your junior high class. It was the last year before the start of all your high school days.

As the dusk settled in, you took that seat at the same park bench next to your best friend. Like you guys always did. But this time you were not laughing.

“You’re moving away?” You whispered almost to yourself, your eyes focused on the unwrapped ice cream cone in front of you.

You could feel Jongho’s gaze, but you were suddenly afraid to meet it. For the first time in your life, you were afraid to look at him. You didn’t want the news to be real.

“Yeah,” He said, turning to look at his own ice cream cone as well.

“In the middle of the school year?” You ask. It’s pointless; he’s already explained it, but you still wanted to try. He only nodded in response.

“Well… when are you gonna come back?” You murmur.

Jongho sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I will, or… I don’t know.”

Jongho was moving away with his family back to his father’s hometown. He was going to transfer to another school, and you and him were not going to finish high school together like you guys said you would.

You felt selfish for wanting to say he betrayed you. It’s not his fault. It’s for family, and family is important. You knew that. But it felt like your heart sank to the bottom of the floor after hearing the news. You grew up together. Jongho was your next door neighbor. He was your first best friend. And even your first crush.

“I can’t believe this…” You say softly.

“It’s at the end of the summer though, y/n,” He tries to comfort you. “We can still hang out like usual.”

“But still!” You exclaim, finally turning to him. You feel your eyes well with tears, and poor Jongho has this worried expression on his face. “What am I gonna do when you leave?”

Jongho then pulls you into a hug, and that tugs at your heart strings. You let yourself cry into his shoulder.

“I’ll still be your best friend even when I’m gone, okay?” He whispers, his voice shaky. You wonder if you crying is causing him to feel bad. Or that maybe he wants to cry too. It’s not like you’ll be the only one who will be missing him. He’ll miss you too.

“Promise?” You finally pull away.

“I promise.” Jongho smiles gently, and your heart flutters once more.

present day

“Someone take that pitcher away from him,” You hear Yeosang mutter to your left. “One glass of beer and he’s already gone.”

You chuckle and glance over at the other end of the table where San is talking a bit too loudly with other coworkers. They’re all smiles and laughs.

It was a different Friday night—a company dinner. This meant free food and free drinks. You down the last of the golden liquid in your glass.

You don’t usually drink often, so you decided to take this opportunity to let loose. It’s been a long week. Just like any other week, you suppose. But you felt that you haven’t had a real chance to just relax and have fun ever since you moved. It’s been nonstop stress and work. So why not? And if it has to be at the work dinner, then so be it. You were at least with your friends.

“Hey! Pass the pitcher over here too, don’t be selfish!” You project from your end of the table. San’s blushed out face is all smiles when he walks over with the pitcher of beer.

“Another drink already y/n?” San teases as he pours more into your glass. He turns to Yeosang. “And you?”

Yeosang shakes his head. “I think I’ll stop for now.” You take a small sip at first, then take deep gulps, the bitter taste burning your throat.

“Guys, just imagine this, but even better during my birthday party!” San says happily, then scurries off to the karaoke stage where your other coworkers have gathered and started singing. The music rings loudly in your ears.

Yeosang waves him off. “He keeps bringing that up. At this point I’m not gonna show up.”

You laugh in response. “He really is the life of the party.”

“And what about you?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow at you and glances at the already half drunken glass of beer. “You usually don’t drink this much at the company dinners.”

“Oh you know,” You chuckle sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at Yeosang’s observations. If there was someone that had the potential to become a detective, you’d swear it’d be him. “Just-” ”Let me guess,” He interjects. “Work. Life. Your roommate. Hectic isn’t it?” Bingo.

“You’re right,” You nod and finish the rest of your drink. “Just for tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’m not judging. Just worried, you know?” He says. You smile at his thoughtfulness and concern.

“Yeah,” You say, starting to feel a little buzzed. “I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. I… I feel like it’s all I talk about these days.. I swear I’m still interesting!” He laughs. “Don’t be sorry. I know roommates can be complicated. And maybe…he’s actually good guy or something.” Yeosang shrugs then takes a bite of some meat and rice.

“Maybe,” You say to yourself before you follow suit and take a bite of your food. Yeosang reaches for an unopened soju bottle sitting across from you, opens it, and proceeds to pour some into two shot glasses. “Really?”

Yeosang smiles and nods. You both raise your glasses. “Yup. To good guys! Cheers!”

You and Yeosang carry on your conversation amidst the loud conversation and music playing the background. You also chatted with some of your other coworkers who also joined in on your side of the table. This is kind of fun, actually. You decided you didn’t need to overthink anything in this moment.

After lots more rounds of meat and rice, alongside more beer and soju, you were stuffed. And you were definitely feeling the full effects of the alcohol. You did it. You reached your goal. As the night progressed, more people gave toasts and slurred speeches, and then it was finally time to go home.

It was nearly one in the morning, but the flashing lights on the street indicated that people were still out and about. The places closed late here, you noticed. San was completely wasted—slumped over Yeosang’s shoulders, trying his best to prop him up with his much smaller frame. The smaller one carrying the bigger one—it was a sight that made you giggle. After loudly expressing each other’s concern, Yeosang assured you they were going to be fine going home and that he’s done this a bunch of times. You also assured him that you’d be able to get home after his offer of sharing a cab. This part of the city was generally safe. And you, too, have done this before.

“Are you sure y/n?” Yeosang pressed. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s okay!” You urged. “It’s totally okay, I’m closer than you guys. He needs to get home asap.” You poked San’s shoulder, and Yeosang chuckled.

“Okay fine, but let me know when you get home!” Yeosang is already dragging San into a cab they managed to hail.

“You too!” You called out happily.

But then again, it’s been a long time since you’ve felt like this.

Feeling drunk felt so freeing, vulnerable, and scary at the same time. Your head was pounding, and your eyes were desperate to close. You were tired, but still so full of energy. You were aware of everything still, just…lighter. And now you were standing out alone, drunk in the night’s cold. Of course, taxis were to come and go, so you just stood at the edge of the sidewalk waiting for one, with your arms wrapped around yourself. Everything felt so heavy, and you didn’t want to move. You swear you could feel your heart thumping violently against your chest. Where the hell are those taxis?

“y/n?” You hear a soft voice behind you. Your first instinct of fear runs through you and you turn around quickly. A couple of feet away, stands someone you swear you’ve met before.

Someone…

“y/n,” He breathes. “It is really you.”

You try your best to concentrate, but your drunken mind is betraying you. You want to go home suddenly.

“Hi…” You whisper out. It was him…

Choi Jongho.

Was it really?

Your old friend.

Is this a dream? What is he doing here? What’s happening? Am I this drunk? Is this really him? What’s he doing here?

Your head was spinning with all these questions, and it didn’t help that you were drunk. You didn’t know what to do—what to feel.

He approached you gingerly, and you unconsciously recoiled.

“I.. I..” I want to go home.

“Are you going home? Let’s get you a taxi.” Jongho says.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out. You wanted to believe that this was just an illusion. How could he possibly be here right now? And to face you so upfront like this? After everything….

“It’s a long story,” He sighs locking eyes with you, and smiles weakly. “Are you okay?” His face turns into an expression of genuine concern.

You can feel them.

Tears.

They’re coming, and you feel that burning sensation building up in your throat whenever you start crying. But you suppress it and swallow hard.

You hear a few cars pass by, and you glance back to the street. Finally. You quickly gesture for it.

The taxi slowly approaches the edge of the sidewalk where you stand, and you mentally thank the driver for coming at such a perfect time. You wanted to go home. You needed to go home. Away from this.

“I have to go.” You whisper, unsure if he’d heard you or not. You swiftly step into the vehicle, give your address to the driver, and catch one last glance at Jongho’s concerned expression before driving away.

This isn’t real. He’s not actually here. I’m drunk.

I’m drunk.

The ride back home was quick, and you used your remaining energy to thank and pay the driver. Getting up into the elevator required some deep breaths, as you were getting dizzier and dizzier—and all the more nauseous. Great.

“Too…drunk…” You mumble to yourself as you stumble into your apartment. You instinctively drop your belongings onto the floor and quickly make your way to the bathroom. You felt horrible. Maybe this was why you haven’t drank in so long…

That nauseousness caught up to you once you finally reached it, where you crouched and hunched over the toilet bowl, letting it all out. I drank way too much.

Now sitting on the floor, you leaned back against the bathtub to catch your breath. In that brief moment of stillness, your mind tugged at you to move. You were suddenly hyper aware of your physicality and environment. You knew you had makeup to remove, teeth to brush, and pajamas to get into. You had to stand up and get into your bed. You needed to clean yourself up. And your brain managed to give you a lovely reminder that you didn’t live alone. Just the thought of Mingi seeing this entire mess made you fearful. But your body betrayed you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your head was still pounding so you just shut your eyes and decided to give yourself a few moments. 5 minutes. In 5 minutes, I’ll get up.

The image of seeing Jongho tonight popped into your mind once more. His voice rang in your ears.

Y/n, it is really you.

It’s a long story. Are you okay?

He looked the same, but different. More mature. Stronger. Still just as handsome…

Was that actually real? Maybe. Probably. You didn’t know. And maybe you didn’t want to know.

Suddenly, he felt so far away again.

I’m drunk. I’m drunk. I’m drunk…

—

You gently blink your eyes open to the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Instinctively, you yawn as well. Oh god. For a moment, you simply lay there as you let your thoughts slowly come over you like a wave. What time was it?

Thank goodness you had the day off. Anyhow, you probably would’ve been extremely late. But you were also glad you got the chance to sleep in, as it was quite the night last night. You gingerly sit up on your bed, shedding off the warmth of your duvet.

You feel a slight headache rush to your head again. Maybe I’ll take it easy next time, you think to yourself. It had been awhile since you drank that much after all. You then briefly ponder how San even does it, and wonder how he handles his hangovers. Your thoughts are interrupted by your grumbling stomach.

You notice your phone at the edge of your bed and grab it.

12:08pm **

You ignore all the text notifications from San and Yeosang for now, and decided to order takeout. You were too lazy to make anything in the state you were in—plus fried chicken sounded perfect right now. After putting in your order, you notice that you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Huh.

You could’ve sworn you’d changed and gotten into bed fine, but you could hardly remember. You did remember throwing up like crazy, however. You jumped out of bed and took a look in the mirror—your makeup was still on and your hair looked dangerously disheveled. This calls for a long shower.

After gathering your things and a fresh pair of pajamas, you crack open your bedroom door and peek outside around the apartment. Mingi cannot see me like this, was the first thought you had. The thought of him seeing you like a mess after ordering him around about being clean felt contradictory somehow. But more importantly, you were embarrassed. It’s not like he’d care, probably… But…Where was he anyway? Was he out?

The silence surrounding the apartment told you that the coast was clear, so you quietly rushed into the bathroom and proceeded to take your hot, much-needed, shower.

When you were finally finished, you headed back to your room and freshened up your bedding. You felt so much better already. Five minutes pass when your phone dings, notifying that your order is officially delivered. Excited and absolutely starved, you head for the front door excitedly when you suddenly stop in your tracks to see Mingi in standing by the door. He was holding the door open and grabbing your takeout off the floor. Your stomach grumbled once again.

“That’s mine,” You say. He turns around in response, his face unamused. Guess he was home after all…

He’s wearing his usual loungewear, and his glasses are framed above his head, pushing his hair back.

“No, it’s mine,” Mingi replied bluntly. “You ordered fried chicken?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, approaching him. You attempt to examine the bag.

“Well my name’s on it,” He argues. Mingi tugs the receipt off the bag and holds it up to your face. “See?”

“But the app just told me it was just delivered right now,” You hold up your phone to his face for proof. “Maybe they put both of the orders in there? Can I see?” You lean in to look inside the bag, but Mingi moves the bag away from you. Your sudden closeness made you more aware of your height difference all of a sudden. You take a step back.

“What did you order?” He glances inside the bag, then back at you.

“A six piece, soy garlic. With a side of rice,” You sigh. “And you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Same… except it was a ten piece for me.” Mingi looks into the bag again, then proceeds to walk towards the kitchen in silence, ignoring you.

“What?!” You follow him into the kitchen.

“Why do they do that?” Mingi takes out both orders from the bag and places them on the dining table. “Is it easier for them to put two orders in one bag even though they’re different?”

“I think it’s because we live in the same place, maybe they thought it was meant to be ordered together…” You respond, staring at the food on the table. “And our orders aren’t even that different.”

“Whatever,” Mingi takes a seat and starts eating. You awkwardly stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do. *Uh…*You guys don’t ever eat at the dining table together. Does he expect you to leave? You suppose you could. You could take your food into your room for privacy, but then again it would just make the room smell like fried chicken…

“Are you not going to eat?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes widen at his bluntness, and you take your seat across from him. You don’t argue since you really were starving.

“I will,” You say and proceed. It was delicious, greasy, and filling—the perfect hangover cure. You guys eat in silence for a while. Luckily, you both distracted yourselves with your phones, so there was no space for small talk, thankfully. You wouldn’t be able to stand it. And he didn’t seem to want to talk to you anyways. What is there to even say honestly, you thought. This is how it should be.

You were in the middle of responding to Yeosang’s texts when you hear him place his phone back on the table.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He says.

You look up, slightly confused. For letting you sit with him at lunch? For giving you your food? “For what?”

The corners of his lips tug up slightly, but then his expression returns to its neutral, indifferent state. “I think I went up to use the bathroom around two in the morning. Nearly had a heart attack seeing you on the floor. I didn’t know you went all out when you drink..”

Your eyes widen. Oh no…

“Wait, you…” Your words falter as your brain finally connects the dots. It was no wonder you were still in your same clothes and makeup. You usually had the strength to complete those tasks no matter how drunk you were—but I guess you hadn’t been that drunk. The memories of last night seem to gather once more, and you feel your face heat up.

“Yes,” Mingi says after swallowing a mouthful. He scans your face, and his eyes show a slight hint of amusement. “You wouldn’t budge, no matter how long or hard I shook you. I had to flush that disgusting toilet bowl, and carried you to your room.”

“Oh god,” You throw your face in your hands. “Oh my god. That is so embarrassing-”

“It’s fine, I know it was a Friday night just-” Mingi glances back down to his food. “Don’t do that next time.”

“That won’t happen again. I can usually handle myself. I don’t know- I guess last night was too much, I was-” You scramble to find the words, but decided not to put forth any excuses. You sigh heavily. “Thanks..”

Mingi simply nods and finishes up his food. After checking his phone one more time, he stands up.

“Well, now I think you owe me y/n,” He says and slides over his dirty dishes to me. “My dishes, for the next two weeks?”

“Huh?!” You scoff with your mouth half full of chicken. What the hell? You decided to challenge him with his own words. “What happened to keeping to ourselves and doing our own chores?” You did NOT want to involve yourself with another roommate related fiasco, yet here you were. It was as if these conflicts were inevitable, and you two kept clashing at the most random of times.

“Oh I know, but you didn’t. Drunk on the bathroom floor definitely crossed that line,” Mingi says matter-of-factly. It was true. You shivered at the reminder that he carried you into your room. What did he even think of you? You immediately pushed that thought away. **“But anyway… as roommates. I helped you, and now you have to help me. Right?”

Roommates.

“Fine, is that how it’s going to work now?” You sigh in defeat. “Two weeks, and that’s it.”

“Deal.” Mingi smiles a little, then leaves the kitchen.

What just happened?

~

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tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie