#well until this year it like never happened before

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

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[rosenclaws]

Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭

warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting

a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.

Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.

Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.

"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.

“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”

“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.

“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.

“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”

“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.

Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.

“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."

"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.

"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.

"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."

"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.

"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.

"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.

Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.

"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.

"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.

"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.

"Fine."

You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.

You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.

"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.

"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.

"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.

"Alright deal."

Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.

It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.

You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.

He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.

Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.

He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.

"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.

A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.

"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.

"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?

The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.

"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.

"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.

"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.

"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.

"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.

"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."

"Well she's my girlfriend."

"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.

"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.

Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.

"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.

"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.

Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.

Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.

"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."

"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.

"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.

"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.

"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.

Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.

"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."

You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.

"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.

"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.

"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.

"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.

There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.

"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."

"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.

Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.

"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."

"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.

"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.

"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"

"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.

"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.

"What?" You ask in disbelief.

Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.

"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."

"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It doesn't matter,"

"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.

"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.

All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.

"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.

His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.

His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.

"I wish we had done this sooner."

"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.

"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.

"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.

"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.

"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.

God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.

"I've never been better. Now, take me home."

[iseos]

LET THEM KNOW

─── idol!enhypen x gn!reader s. how your relationship is revealed 769 words (~110 each) g. headcannons, fluff w! occasional idol!reader | © iseos library

이희승 — LEE HEESEUNG

— it happened during a livestream. sunoo and jake were live together at their dorm when sunoo read out comment asking about the oldest member. "heeseung? oh, yeah, he's out with his partner, right?" jake said as he looked for something on his phone, seemingly forgetting what the two of them were doing. the chat stilled for a moment before it exploded with thousands of messages as sunoo let out a quiet 'what?' jake nodded and continued to dig himself a bigger hole, "yeah, he's with y/n." it wasn't until he looked up and was met with sunoo’s wide eyes that he realized what he said.

박종성 — JAY PARK

— for weeks fans have noticed a pattern in your and jay's weverse activity. at first, it seemed like a coincidence—one of you posting a song, the other sharing a similar one, or a playlist that had strikingly similar themes. you posted a melancholic ballad with a caption that fans didn't pay much attention to. however, just a few hours later jay shared a song along with a caption that seemingly was responding to yours. it didn't take long for a few observant fans to dig through past posts and notice a pattern of what looked like the two of you were indirectly communicating through song recommendations. while your relationship was never officially announced, it was enough confirmation for fans that something was going on between the two of you.

심재윤 — JAKE SIM

— your relationship was a closely guarded secret, known by only those closest to the two of you. however, things took a turn when one of your friends posted a photo to their public instagram—one that clearly showed you and jake in the background. the photo left no doubt about the status of your relationship, and even though the account didn't have many followers, fans still managed to come across it. despite the immediate scramble to delete the post, screenshots had already gone viral and everyone had seen it.

박성훈 — PARK SUNGHOON

— rumors began surrounding sunghoon when a news outlet claimed he was spotted on a date with an actress. fans were in shock, articles were full of headlines making the same claim, and the company was quick to issue a statement, “we regret to inform that the claims made regarding sunghoon and the actress are completely unfounded and inaccurate.” however, in their hurry to deny the claims, the company added: “we can also confirm sunghoon is in a committed relationship with another individual, who he has been dating for some time. we respectfully ask for the public’s understanding during this time.” in their rush to distance sunghoon from the actress, the company inadvertently confirmed your relationship, a detail that had been previously unknown to fans.

김선우 — KIM SUNOO

— it was the last thing anyone was expecting. an ordinary day disrupted by the company statement confirming your relationship that read: "we would like to officially confirm that y/n and enhypen's sunoo have been in a relationship for several months now. we kindly ask for your continued support and respect for their privacy." the message, while straightforward enough, left fans reeling. most were excited, flooding social media with positive reactions, while others were shocked, trying to process the announcement.

양정원 — YANG JUNGWON

— on new year's eve, the world was focused on fireworks and celebrations, but for k-pop fans their focus was on the highly anticipated dispatch couple reveal. as midnight approached, many people were expecting to see the names of two actors, but they were instead surprised with your and jungwon’s names. pictures accompanied the claim as well, of course. there were photos of the two of you going out to eat while wearing nondescript clothing, and others of either one of you walking into the other's company building; it was enough to solidly convince fans that you were undeniably dating.

西村力 — NISHIMURA RIKI

— it started with a single fan’s post. the fan had been out shopping when they noticed two familiar figures browsing through racks at a high-end clothing store. the two of you were dressed casually, both wearing caps and masks, but your body language was unmistakable. you laughed together, occasionally holding up items for the other to see, and at one point you held a jacket up against niki to check the fit. the fan, stunned, quickly took a discreet photo and posted it online. the post gained traction immediately and within hours, it had snowballed into a collection of sightings. fans began piecing together a timeline of occasions where the two of you were seen together. the rumor was never addressed directly, but the increasing sightings with less protection to hide your identities only added fuel to the fire.

[kirbmey]

　 ྀི︶˚̣̣̣⠀⠀⠀arguing w bigbrother!caleb⠀⠀⠀˚̣̣̣︶ ྀི

synopsis: as much as you love your older brother you end up second guessing him, tired of only being allowed to talk to him and wishing you had some friends like other girls did ૮𐔌っ˕ -｡꒱ྀི𑁬

tw: angst, caleb slaps reader, they argue (obviously), tons of manipulation, rape mentions, drug mentions, caleb’s a fake to people, pathetic reader, overall this is really toxic, etc.

caleb was waiting for you parked in front of your uni, toying around with the necklace you gifted him when you were kids while his mind drifted away.

he was so excited for today, friday’s being his favorite days of the week since he took you out to eat and then had a walk by the meadowy park near your house. it was simple but he enjoyed every second he shared with you.

he didn’t need much more than that, really. he just needed you.

all the girls at your uni were hands down for your handsome older brother, trying to approach him every chance they’d get and getting politely rejected, even though he felt disgusted by them and thought they were vulgar whores; he was pretty good at hiding it.

you, on the other hand, started to feel lonelier each passing day.

ever since you were a kid you shared all of your time with caleb up until now. you told him everything, lived every moment together. there was no memory in which he didn’t appear.

and you really really liked that, you wouldn’t want that to change. but there’s been the longing for a friend, someone who wasn’t caleb, someone new.

you’ve always tried to get to know some of your classmates, feeling a little bit guilty when you disobeyed your big brother’s orders. it wasn’t hard for you to socialize, you were actually very good at it!

a nice sweet girl with a pretty voice and soft smile? who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?

well, every single time you thought you made a friend they would separate ways with you in a couple days, which made you feel sad and insecure.

why are they living you so fast, were you rude, said something bad, appeared weird perhaps?

far from reality the only one to blame was caleb, who had his eyes glued to you every second of the day and didn’t miss on how you tried you break free from the brainwash he managed to give you throughout the years.

he learnt this would happen every so often, and stopped confronting you about it long ago.

yes, he used to argue with you about this kinda thing, complaining about you getting along with other people and playing the victim, crocodile tears down his face as he begged you to never leave him.

so what he’d do now it’s confront the person in question directly, maybe to threat them, maybe to beat them up, maybe to kill them if they got too annoying.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“hey, pips, how was today?” he asked with a boyish smile plastered on his round lips, frowning when he noticed your crossed arms and pouty face, not even greeting him and looking out the window to avoid his purple eyes.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i’m talking to you.” he mentioned your name in a serious manner, locking the doors before grabbing both your cheeks with one of his big hands to make you face him.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i want to go to the party.” you simply muttered, avoiding his gaze while you tried to pull away from his grip, making him wrap your throat now. “we’ve already talked about that, princess. and it’s still a no.”

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“but mom and dad said i could go!” you complied, crossing your arms again. a tantrum is the last thing he needed from you today.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“mom and dad don’t know what’s best for you. i do.” he spat, letting you go and mimicking your pose now. “you wanna know what goes down at these frat parties, hmm?” caleb challenged you, tracing the shape of the steering wheel while speaking.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“there’s people getting high on anything they can find, fainting, vomiting because of how drunk they are, fucking everywhere.” he knew the party you wanted to attend was nothing like that, your classmates telling about the party to your parents and describing it as ‘chill’ and ‘safe’.

caleb totally believed that, they seemed fucking boring.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“what? no, that’s not true! you’re a big liar!” you yelled at him, feeling how his hand collided against your cheek; you knew you crossed the lane when you raised your voice at him. so you just took it, going silent after that.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“if you wanna get drugged and raped by the whole fucking class the go ahead, i’m done with this conversation.” he spat, engine vibrating beneath your feet as he drove you two back home. what a failure of a friday.

the whole drive you sat down there, tears rolling down your face as you quietly whimpered, cleaning them with the sleeves of your sweater.

you just wanted to make friends and go on a party for once to at least die knowing how it feels to be like the other girls. but that made your gege upset, and you loved him more than anything, more than you loved yourself.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“it hurts me more than it hurts you.” caleb broke the silence after parking in front of your house, resting his head against the headrest and sighing, looking at you now.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“‘m sorry, gege. i’m being selfish.” your voice trembled, reaching out for his hand to hold it up against your lips, kissing it several times, tears wetting his pale skin.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i don’t like hurting you like this, you know that. why you make me do it, doll. why can’t you just listen?” he kept on questioning you, his palm pressing against the cheek he slapped minutes prior, caressing the imprint his fingers left.

⠀ ⠀ 　　　“i know, i know, i’m truly sorry. please forgive me, please gege. i love you.” you kept on apologizing, rubbing yourself against the attention he gave you, feeling the tears fall again and again.

he wasn’t faced by your crying. sure, he didn’t like to see you cry, but he knew he had to be strict with you in order to make you behave. you really hurt his feelings and you had to know your actions had consequences.

it took him a few days to completely forgive you, days in which you had to wake up without him, in which you had to cook for yourself and come back home by foot all alone.

days in which you remembered your gege was all that mattered in your life and realized that you didn’t need any friends, because no one would know how to treat you or take care of you like your old brother did.

and just like that caleb got away with it again, torturing you to make you behave, obliging you to live without him even if it was just a couple of days to make you see how much you actually needed him.

you finally understood after all; no friends, only caleb. you made yourself believe you were okay with that. ⠀ ⠀ 　　　

a/n: this was a request from an anon! I hope you like it, bunny. I feel like i outdid myself with this one, this is how i see caleb in my mind fr ᥩྀི ´ ᩳ ` ꒱

— masterlist.

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

need more fics where Jason is told by one of the batfam that they're "Happy he's alive" and he either stares blankly at them or his eyes well with tears he can't control and before he can stop himself he's like "What?" and it sounds like a whisper, like he's positive he misheard. and the family member repeats themselves, feeling suddenly like they've stepped onto a landmine. and then-

"no one's said that to me. since i've been back." and Jason doesn't mean to say it, but he hadn't really realized it himself until that moment and it feels like his chest is cracking open where he stands, and his eyelashes feel clumpy, and his throat has a stone pushing up against his vocal chords.

Some subconscious part of him has always felt it-- has been aware he's never been told directly that anyone is happy he's alive and back... but now it's out there in the world, and he realizes he's been waiting on it for years. He's been waiting to be told that someone is happy he's alive. He wonders, briefly, if those words might have fixed everything in the early days. If he had just felt like Bruce wanted him back, if he had just felt that Bruce didn't see him as some cosmic mistake wearing the face of his dead son... would it have changed anything? He doesn't know. doesn't know if he wants to know.

because it didn't happen. the words were never said.

until now.

"no one?" the family member asks in dawning horror.

and the silence that follows is deafening.

[bigification]

Hey there would you like to try out these special perfumes? I can guarantee you will feel like a muscle daddy without even need to lift any weight. Some minor physical changes are just slight side effects don't worry about it.

"Some minor what? Sorry it's loud in here, I couldn't quite hear what you said."

I get on my top toes, trying to get closer to your level so I can hear you better.

"Some perfume? Oh... sure I might as well if it's free."

I grab the small black bottle of perfume and spray it on my wrist to test what it smells like.

"Oh god, that smells awful. Is that... sweat?"

I cough as the pungent smell engulfs me. I violently rub my wrist to get rid of the smell, but it only seems to be getting stronger.

*RIIIIIIIIPPP*

The sound of fabric ripping distracts me from the smell. The sound came from my sleeves, which are now torn to shreds.

"Is my arm... bigger than before?"

I poke and prod my now rock solid biceps as they continue to grow. I stare for a few seconds, mesmerized by the sight of my arms swelling, but I snap myself out of it.

"What is happening to me?"

Why am I growing? Why do I reek? Why can't I remember how I got here? All questions that are running through my mind. I can't think about that right now though. My clothes feel so tight.

*TEEEEAAAAARRRRRRR*

The sound of fabric tearing once again echoes around me. I look down to see my shirt has fallen to the floor in pieces, leaving me shirtless. Not that I mind showing off my bod, I've been hitting the gym so I could show it off. Wait, hold on a minute, I don't go to the gym. I look down at my swelling pecs and wonder how they got that big, and when did I get such a ripped six pack. It's because I earned it at the gym. Yeah, of course I go to the gym every day.

"I'm having trouble thinking, but I must've just had a sick workout if I smell like this."

I giggle to myself, breathing in my own stench. Of course I'm proud of it, it's a sign of hard work dedication.

*POP!*

I watch as the button on my fly flings across the room. It distracts me from admiring my upper body. My thighs expand until my jeans are bursting at the seams, and I feel the pressure build as my ass perks up. It doesn't take long for my jeans to also end up on the floor in pieces.

"Why does this feel so good bro."

My now massive man hands slide down my crotch as my once average dick starts to grow. Adding inches by the second, it sticks straight up past my belly button. Finally settling at a monstrous 10 inches long and as girthy as a pop can.

*SNAAAPPPP*

With comic timing, my feet burst through my shoes as they grow from a modest size 10 to a hulking size 16. But the euphoria of watching my muscles expand in front of my eyes is interrupted by a sudden lethargic feeling. I'm not as spry as I was in my twenties. Wait no, I'm in my twenties now. Well that can't be right, I just celebrated my 45th birthday. Who gives a fuck how old I am if I'm built like this.

"I gotta check these gains out bro."

I turn to the mirror beside me, and flinch when I see my reflection. My face... it's different I think. I run my hand through my thinning hair and over my five o'clock shadow. It feels so new but so familiar. The square jaw, wide nose, and wrinkles show the years, no, decades I've worked to have a sick bod like this.

"You like what you see, son?"

My gruff voice echoes around the room as I start to show off my bulging muscles. I love showing off to pipsqueaks like you, you're the perfect height to stare at my muscle tits. Don't feel bad about it, most guys are.

"You got something for me? A cigar? Nah bro, that shits not for me."

I would never put poison like that in my body unless it made me bigger. My body is a temple. But... now that you mention it, I am kind of craving a cigar right now.

"Damn that shit smells kinda good tho. It's a Cuban cigar? Give me that."

I snatch the massive cigar from you and stick it into my mouth.

"Got a ligh-"

I'm interrupted as you pull out a match.

"Old fashioned, I respect that bro."

I take a deep breath in, really letting that smoke settle in my lungs. I don't smoke often, so I gotta make the high worth it. Though something feels different this time, I can feel the smoke coating my lungs.

"What is happening? Side effects?"

I look at the bottle of perfume and see written in bold, "Do not smoke or take any drugs while using this product." I continue reading.

"Side effects may include; weight gain-"

I feel my stomach drop as I'm reading it. I look down in horror as I see a distended muscle gut where my abs used to be.

"Hormone imbalance."

My pecs swell into a pair of man tits that hang over my gut and my nipples perk up, making them impossible to hide under a shirt. My ass also widens as it becomes more soft and rounded. Worst of all, I feel my balls shrivel up like prunes. I quickly grab a pair of gym shorts that are conveniently resting beside me. Not many men are 6"6 and 300 pounds like me, how lucky that there was a pair of shorts that fit me.

"Excessive body hair."

I can feel an intense itchiness as my once hairless body is covered head to toe in a thick forest of salt and pepper hair. Especially around my chest and gut. I can also feel my five o'clock shadow grow into a bushy goatee and mustache.

"Male pattern baldness."

A cold sensation engulfs my head as my hairline starts to rapidly recede, even more than it already had. My hairline moves further and further back until I'm left with a strip of short and thin hair on the back of my head.

"Addiction."

My body suddenly feels drained, like I have a severe fever. I instinctively pull my cigar to my mouth and take a deep breath in. The smoke fills my lungs, and just like that I feel great again.

"Why are you still staring, kid. You really want a piece of all this?"

I grab you by the collar, letting you smell smoke off my breath and the sweat from my skin.

"Only real men can handle me. So why don't we fix that."

I yank you closer to me before pulling out the perfume and spraying it into your face. It makes me smile when you try to brush away the pungent fragrance.

"The smell will grow on you, son."

[miss-tarja]

Soccer Family! Miguel Headcanons (Pt. 1)

When dating

He truly wasn't looking for anyone in that carneada at Peter's home, he didn't want to break his streak of years single, but against all odds that banter in the kitchen pulled his defenses to the ground.

The first thing he noticed, was definiely your lips. Especially how they pouted and gasped when he attempted to open the beer. Red looked gorgeous on you.

Gabriel teased him to no end afer he found out he never got your name.

He was definitely a nervous wreck when you two kissed in that movie night. He had practiced kissing with his palm, like the old days to make a good impression. (Glad to know he wasn't a disappointment.)

He's a black retriever. Meaning, he's wary of strangers and it's aloof towards them, but when it comes to his closed ones, there's nothing but untampered love and affection

He learned your haircare routine so he could tend your need of pampering after a stressful day. A practice he kept after marriage. And a simple excuse to touch you and be around you.

The necklace he gifted you as his official girlfriend has a "te amo" engraved in each leg. And of course, it's gold.

Although he hates the texture of the viscous facial masks you put him through in that makeover, he's forever grateful you didn't give up in him, and showed him that you loved him no matter what. That alone was the catalyst for him to be better for you. You were already giving him the best of you, why not doing so in return?

He never told Gabriel, or anyone that the night you two broke up, he cried. He stared a bit too long your space in his bed and it was enough to break down. The first week on his own wasn't easy.

It was also the first time he actually feared sleeping alone.

When you two had sex for the first time in months, after your make up, He was so focused in your pleasure than his. (Still is). He was so gentle, took his time in enjoying and revering you throughly.

You stared at a shop for too long? Not only did he take you inside, and let you sate your curiosity but that also meant something new for either your closet, makeup, shoes or jewelry.

He loves massaging your feet because the seize difference amuses him, but also likes tickling you when you're in a sour or blue mood.

He planned on asking you to move in with him when you hit the year and a half milestone, but the breakup happened.

He's not one for dancing, but for you, he tries.

The first nude you eveer sent him, nearly choked him cause Gabriel was around.

He's the little spoon when he's too overwhelmed or stressed. (Still is)

You want a snack? He makes it from scratch if he has the time, but always made sure to keep your stash replenished.

A silent jealous. He'd stare with a deadpan at the guy fool enough to approach you with second intentions, walk over you, grab your chin and give you a deep smooch before the idiot to give a message. Then grab your waist and tell you how much he missed you, even if minutes had passed by between you.

Loves giving you piojito while you're both in the livingrom, watching tv or enjoying your company. Even more when you fall asleep in his chest.

Adores picking you up in his arms and smack your ass as a greeting.

He suffered in your periods. Watching you crying, folding in pain, swollen, was hard to digest. So he made sure to cook nutritious foods to prevent anemia, always had bananas on hand as well raspberry tea and your own stash of chocolates. Pads or tampons weren't an issue. He had you covered.

NSFW in dating

He knows he's big, so he's careful. Especially when a blowob comes into play.

His nipples are sensitive, (both a curse and a blessing)

You're the only one he allows grabbing and touching his ass. Or spanking.

At first, condoms were a must. Until you stopped asking for them and he never looked back. (Gabi was conceived within your unsafest days.)

He loves to sandwich you between his body and the wall while plunging deep and slow.

He dirty talks you through a good fingering, when you're overwhelmed or too stressed.

You two have your own homemade porn videos. (The only material he actually gets off to)

If he's away because of work, he'd send you little reels of himself, stroking and talking about the ungodly things he'd do when he got home.

And Miguel is a man of words. He didn't allow you to leave the bedroom until you either squirted (something he started training you), bit the sheets or his neighbors complained about the noise.

He doesn't care if you just returned from the gym, your musk gets his gears going so bad he can't keep his hands to himself despite your protests and embarrassment. "We gotta finish the workout porperly, preciosa."

He's particularly rough and clingy when he's jealous. But makes sure the aftercare is good with praise, hydration and lots of pampering.

He loves watching himself disappearing between your juicy and trembling cunt, loves the feeling of your insides clamping and fluttering aroud him.

Says "I love you" with each mind shattering thrust.

------

He doesn't makes you beg for it, but if you've been teasing him too much, he doesn't fucks you until you're a pleading and crying mess underneath him.

Missed to write for them hehe.

[girl-lostconnection]

Unsweetened Lemonade (part 6 - the end)

Part 5

Warnings: fluff, Punk!Ghost x Nerd!Reader, suggestive themes, biting, mention of abuse, insecurities, plus size!Reader, light smut

Simon becomes a part of your life, slotting in like he has always been there.

As if years before his appearance, the rightful place in your heart was just growing cold in wait for him.

You don’t notice when the shift from silence to “Riley” to “Simon” happens — its gradual and imminent.

“Was always meant to be”, Simon thinks, hand curled around your shoulders, your warmth seeping into him through layers of clothing, your soft thigh pressing to his, making him lightheaded — eyes dark and heavy.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Simon doesn’t say it out loud but you can see how thrilled he is whenever you muse “Si’”, syllable rolling off your tongue like a clicky sour candy — mouthwatering, your cheek aching a little (still feels like your body is a bit overwhelmed with how often you smile now).

You slot in Simon’s life and he’s not sure about anything but you stay and he crumbles.

Piece by piece, like a biscuit that was left in hot tea for too long — limbs honeyed and heavy, heart aching, warmth spreading all over.

Rolling under his skin until he’s syrupy and soft, head nuzzled in your tummy, nose pressed to the warm roll of it. He’s still not sure how someone can be this soft. How is it even possible? God sure did take his time when he worked on you, bloody genius crafting someone this gorgeous.

Simon nuzzles into you on regular basis, starved for affection, mouthing at your neck, soaking you with his adoration. He’s always close, always ready to wrap himself around you, pulling you as soon as you give him a nod.

It’s bittersweet, sometimes. To realise how much you hungered and starved for a companionship, for stable connection — everything that Simon gives so freely, generous in his own affections.

It’s a lot for him as well. His over sensitive nerves fraying when your lips ghost over his throat, his hands wrapping around you. It’s so much. So sweet.

Simon groans, hips buckling when when you leave a mark behind his ear, eyes feral with hunger, mutt inside of him itching to bite back, itching to mount, itching to pull you under and never let out.

His voice cracks and breaks when your palms graze the warm tender abdomen under his sweater, his every cell on fire, mind pitch dark and empty, breathing coming out in short pants.

Simon throws his head back, hitting the wall with a dull thump, palm pressed to his mouth, cheeks red and eyes feral. God, you are gonna ruin him.

Please do.

Simon’s thighs slide open, throat bobbing and he doesn’t look down, but knows for sure that you do — ache between his legs feeling hot and heavy, throbbing under your gaze.

Simon forgets everything but your name, chest heaving and throat bared for your wet hungry kisses.

He has never been wanted like this. Has never been craved. Has never been devoured.

Simon chokes on air when you finally touch him, thumb rubbing in circles and he’s going mad, god, please, he needs it. Needs you. Needs more.

Moremoremoremoremoremoremore.

Simon comes down from his high, feeling lightheaded and trembly-handed, nuzzling his red face in your neck, palms sliding under your T-shirt — splaying over the small of your back. Just a minute. Just…he just needs to breathe, yeah?

Simon murmurs that nice isn’t for him and by god, you are wonderful.

He watches you, his limbs heavy, warmth of the blanket enveloping you both, limbs tangled with yours, head sharing a pillow with you (no, I can’t move, luv, wha’ is it, now? You don’t like me? Though’ I was special).

Nice isn’t for him, he confesses — shame and vulnerable sharp-angled hope coiling inside of him, spreading under his skin, scratching tender flesh.

Barbed wire of “I’m not worthy. I’m nothing. I’m dirty” stinging his eyes. Simon isn’t sure why you stayed.

You open your eyes, murmuring that you aren’t nice, voice impossibly soft, warm knuckles tracing circles on his hip.

You press your forehead to his, closing your eyes and breathing out “you are lovely” like you are revealing him sacred truth.

You throat bobs when you swallow and you are just as red as he is, your heart pounding against his chest like it tries to get under his ribs and solder itself with his.

And something inside of him cracks, uncoiling, spreading with the force of meltdown, twisting him in ugly shapes, because “you’r bein’ unfair, luv”.

Because god, he loves you.

He never loved like this before and it feels like the most terrifying thing in the world.

Like the sweetest, most beautiful and hopeful thing either.

Simon watches your trembling lashes and your sweaty palm grips him tighter and god, you are scared too.

Realisation makes something enormously tender open in his chest, pouring out, his hand wrapping around you, rasp of his voice quiet and wet.

So lovely. How could he ever go without you, sweetheart?

Such a sweet sweet darling. Such gentle most delicious bite of his life.

Oh, love, he’d burn for you if you asked, he’d crawl for you, he will live for you.

You two have a long way to go — still a whole life ahead, after all this is just the beginning. But you no longer need to watch your back at school and no longer need to inhale your food on the go.

Simon watches your back (always, love, always) and walks you home and offers absolutely horrendous funniest jokes you ever heard (Wha’ came first — chicken or egg? Come o’, luv, think…Rooster did).

Simon is there and he stays, awkward angles and all.

Maybe nice things weren’t for him.

But they are now.

You smack his shoulder when he parrots back that you aren’t nice, Simon snorting and kissing you as you huff and puff.

No, you aren’t nice. You are lovely.

You hiss when you are mad, you snap when overwhelmed, you bite him back (Simon pulls scarf down smirking like a big bad wolf, neck littered with marks — lipstick kiss under his jaw, outline of your bite on the crook of his neck).

You sigh in exasperation when he’s being stubborn and purposefully obtuse, you mumble under your breath when you study, you hide in his neck when tired.

You are there. You care for and about him.

You sit with him, huddling for warmth on the bus stops — back pressed to his chest, his chin propped on your head or shoulder.

You hum something soft, helping him clean up when he’s bruised up, nose bleeding — his dad’s favourite football team losing third match in a row.

You are there.

Not pushing when he needs space, not punishing him for needing it in the first place. Just expecting the same courtesy in return whenever you need it.

Simon doesn’t know if he’d ever get used to it, tiny wounded part of him still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to say what it is you want with a train wreck like him.

Surely there’s no way you don’t want anything.

Which is true. You do want something.

A lot of things, frankly.

You mention offhandedly, gesturing for him to sit down and peel potatoes with you. Simon tilts his head to the side, eyes heavy, thumbs hooked in his pockets but he silently plops himself down and takes the potato.

It’s evening, kitchen is all warm from cooking, smelling like chicken and garlic, you both in warm Christmas socks.

You want him, for starters, you murmur, focusing on the potatoes, saying it like it’s obvious.

You want you both to get better. You want to live on.

You want to graduate with nice grades and keep studying, even if he decides not to go into uni.

You want to rent with him a place with big windows and warm lights.

You want to shop for it together — choosing blankets and mugs and silly little trinkets. “Happiness mementoes”, you nickname them, eyes soft and knife gliding as you peel the round corners of vegetable.

And you’d like a cat. Or maybe a dog. Though maybe a fish would be better? Just to see how it goes and if you are good at taking care of something other than each other.

You get carried away and don’t realise he’s been silent for what feels like forever.

Not until he quietly asks what kind of ring you’d want. If you thought of that too.

His voice thick with adoration so raw you feel your face heating up, blush climbing higher and higher.

Simon has never been so serious in his life, eyes boring into yours intensely.

He’s never been so in love.

You try to say something, anything but the question hits your like a fright train, your eyes wide and skin tingling from how hot you suddenly feel.

Simon huffs air out through his nose softly, lips curling upwards and puts away knife. Simon circles the table and pulls you in, peppering your blush-hot face with kisses, thumbs rubbing your hips, eyes shining.

You really want him, aren’t you, love? Planned out everything but bloody wedding.

Simon feels laughter bubble in his chest and he’s melting-melting-melting.

“Got you tongue-tied, eh? Though’ you planned i’ all, sweet’eart”, he murmurs with grin so wide his eyes crinkle.

Home with big windows? Yeah, he’ll remember.

“I want you too, luv”, lips ghosting over your cheeks, smiling wider when you blindly turn your head to kiss him.

God, how did he even got lucky to deserve you?

“Think about the ring, darlin’”, he purrs, teeth sinking in your cheek — gentle pressure sending hot shivers down your spine.

“Think hard, yeah? I’m goin’ to ask you again”

Simon pulls you closer, nose nuzzling in your temple, palms stroking your sides and hips. Up and down.

Yeah, he’ll ask alright.

Because if you want him — you got him, love.

And he’s got you.

Taglist: @figthoughts @pastelbabygirl19 @haven-1307 @viennakarma @themadamehydra-blog @squishytap @unfriendlyneighborhoodlibrarian @roastyyytoastyyy

[spacegyaru]

cw: shidou ryusei x afab! reader. all characters are aged 21+. a little bit of dark content so minors, dni! college setting AU. sexual themes ahead— reader is nerdy and a good girl type. stoner!shidou so there’s w33d involved, mentions of virginity loss, creampie, unprotected sex, p in v penetration, shidou being a pushy and would pressure reader. mentions of having a dysfunctional family. also, i made a family backstory for shidou here since we still dunno much about him! and come on guys, having shidou in a fic is already a warning itself. i feel like i didn't put enough warnings so proceed with caution— ALSO I WAS WRITING THIS WHILE LISTENING TO ROMEO AND CINDERELLA SO IT'S KINDA BASED ON IT

word count: 1.3k+

imagine being a girl with an overly religious family, but you ended up falling in love with the boy next door with a bad reputation, ryusei shidou.

you were a sheltered girl who's well-loved by your strict parents. well honestly, not really well-loved— but when we say that, it means that they love to take control of everything you do. you were enrolled in an all-girls catholic school, attended sunday schools, and went to weekend piano lessons. 

in reality, you felt like they really didn't care that much about you. your father is a pastor who also worked as a professor, while your mother is a retired actress. 

they mostly cared about their church's reputation. they didn't seem to love each other either. you remember your mom being drunk one night, telling you how she hates your father and if you weren't born, she would still be a hot actress. you cried after that. your father never even consoled you, and your mom did not apologize. you were always on your own.

dinners with your family were always empty. only utensils could be heard and no one tries to talk to each other. 

when you were in high school, someone from your church moved in the house next to yours. it was the shidou family. you've always heard and seen them around the church but you never got too close. all their children attended the service— well, except for one. and it's funny how you just got to know him recently. 

you met him, ryusei shidou, while you were giving some freshly baked cupcakes to your newly-found neighbor. you were flustered when he greeted you shirtless, only wearing his boxer shorts. you couldn't look at him in the eye. so instead of saying anything, you bowed, used your two hands to give the cupcakes, saying goodbye, and immediately running to your home. 

you've always thought that the neighbors beside you were normal people — that was until you heard someone yelling, almost like a lion's roar, in the middle of the evening. you were already in your first year college that time when it happened.

you heard it while washing the dishes— the father of the shidou household was angry at ryusei because he was caught smoking w33d in the campus dorms. but their son, ryusei, seemed to be eccentric. it's almost as if he didn't care that much about it.

you got the chance to talk to him while taking some fresh laundry out of the yard. you waved at him and he just raised an eyebrow at you… and he continued to smoke whatever he's smoking.

“hi…” you timidly said before sitting beside him. but he just ignored you. so you asked him if he was okay. he just raised a brow at you and tried giving you the joint as if he's asking you to smoke with him.

you shook your head to refuse the offer, but he continued offering it to you, until you ended up saying yes.

you hated the bitter aftertaste from the w33d, but still smoked it because it seemed to have made him livelier and more friendly towards you.

“the pastor's daughter isn't a good girl after all…” he says something like that before he kissed you on the lips and bid his farewell. meanwhile, you were left dumbfounded. 

you thought that your crazy interaction with him ended there— until you saw him on your window, trying to climb your room. you almost screamed when you see his face by the window. 

“yo~” shidou greeted before you helped him from the tree branch he was climbing, letting him inside your room.

luckily, your parents were out for some business trip when ryusei gave you the joint. the smell of w33d spread throughout yout room as you smoked along with him.

it turns out that his parents were like your parents, religious. but here he is, trying to break the cycle by doing whatever he wants. he says that if he wasn't famous for soccer or didn't have an athlete scholarship, his parents would've dropped him and kicked him out. 

somehow, the short smoking session turned into a hot making-out session when he asked you to sit on his lap so he could teach you a smoking trick. naive as you are, you did as he told. now, here he is, inserting his tongue in between your lips and cupping your ass while he did so. 

after that, you brought up the fact that you started to feel something poking in between your thighs. then he just smirked and grinded more before telling you something like, “really?” 

shidou ended up letting you see his cock up close. it was your first time seeing a dick in person. surely, you’ve seen it on porn before because you got curious at some point. but this was different. you couldn’t stop staring at it. it wasn’t exactly the lengthiest, but it was thick. it looks fucking fat. 

at first, you tried touching it. but it ended up becoming more than that… you soon found yourself sucking his cock, brushing the tip of your tongue on top while trying to make it hit the back of your throat. his hands entangled around your hair with his head thrown back. you were shocked when something hot and salty suddenly burst inside your mouth. it seemed that he came inside. he asked you to open your mouth and show him how you swallow it. you did just what he told.

 it felt even better when shidou decided to return the favor. at this point, you were no longer in your pyjamas and underwear. you were wearing only an old white baggy shirt with your pussy all laid-out for him. his tongue, combined with his fingers, felt so fantastic and you ended up orgasming over his mouth.

at that point, you thought it would be the end… until he started pressing the tip of his cock on your clit, rubbing it a little bit, with his precum coming out of the hole. 

“shidou, i-isn’t this for people who only love each other?” you asked him with your eyes widened, but he whispered something like, “come on. let’s do it.” then he promised to make you his girlfriend after you do it. that’s how he ‘loves’ you. 

so you agreed. you agreed to let his cock inside your pussy. at first, it was just the tip. and you started gasping from the pain, and letting out a loud moan. shidou had to cover your mouth as he slowly thrust deeper, even kissing you with an open mouth to try making you a bit more quiet.

you were holding his arms and his body closer as his thrusts got more intense. you ended up moaning his name, leaving scratches on his back, while he lifted one of your legs around his shoulders, trying to feel you at a deeper level.

the sensation felt ecstatic. you felt like you were floating in cloud 9 while his balls slapped your clit and he was kissing your neck. 

you ended up squirting on his cock and he ended up cumming inside your pussy. after that, shidou pulled out, watching his cum ooze out from your hole. as shidou was panting, a confident smirk appeared on his lips. 

the following day, you woke up. your legs felt sore. your neck and chest were filled with hickeys. but the person who caused them was gone. the only thing that’s left as evidence is the bottle of booze both of you binged while smoking.

you tried to look for him after that, but to no avail, you never saw him again. you tried to ask his family, but they only talked about him going abroad to continue his studies as he received a better football scholarship there. his parents decided upon this due to his issues in his current university. perhaps, going abroad would change him and make him more responsible.  you attempted to fish out for more information, but you found out you were also blocked on his social media. 

you thought it couldn’t get any worse… until a few more weeks later, you found yourself staring at a white stick with two lines staring back at you. your eyes felt teary and you felt as if you were punched in the gut. 

HAGHDHJASBHA SHOULD I CONTINUE THIS? THIS WASNT PROOFREAD BTW AND I WROTE THIS AS SOON AS I GOT OFF WORK

[goldenhazelnut]

Caught in the Spotlight || Lewis Hamilton

The rhythmic hum of Lewis Hamilton's car engine echoed through the underground parking lot as he pulled into a discreet corner. It was well past midnight, and the shadows concealed more than just the sleek lines of his custom Mercedes-AMG. Despite the hour, the Formula 1 legend stepped out, wearing a black hoodie and sunglasses. His movements were cautious but confident as he sent a quick text:

"I'm here."

A minute later, the side door of the parking lot creaked open. She stepped through, clutching her bag nervously. A psychology student in her final year, she had never imagined that a chance meeting at an exclusive event six months ago would lead to a clandestine rendezvous with one of the most recognizable faces on the planet.

"You're late," Lewis teased, his voice low but warm.

"You’re impossible to sneak around for," she shot back, rolling her eyes. But the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her irritation.

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Worth it, though."

"Debatable," she said, though her tone was playful.

"Oh, come on," Lewis said, smirking. "You’re not saying this isn’t the highlight of your day."

"My day? Sure. My week? The jury’s still out." she quipped, leaning into him. "What if someone recognizes us?"

"That’s why we’re here," he said. "Relax. Nobody’s lurking in the shadows with a camera."

"Famous last words," muttered under her breath, though she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

The two climbed into the car, where Lewis started recounting his latest race while she listened intently, occasionally throwing in sarcastic comments that made him laugh. Their ease with each other was evident—until a sudden flash lit up the interior of the car.

"What the hell?" she gasped, ducking instinctively.

Lewis turned sharply, spotting a man outside the driver’s side window with a camera pressed to his face. Another flash went off, followed by the unmistakable sound of a lens clicking.

"Stay down," Lewis commanded, his voice low and steady as he rolled down the window slightly. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

"Just getting a scoop, mate," the paparazzo said smugly, still snapping pictures. "Who’s your friend? She doesn’t look like she’s part of the racing world."

"Get the hell out of here," Lewis snapped, his usual calm veneer slipping. "Now."

The man laughed. "Relax, Hamilton. The world’s gonna love this. A little late-night rendezvous? Very on-brand."

Her heart was pounding as she sat frozen in her seat. "Lewis, let’s just go," she whispered.

But before Lewis could move, the photographer darted in front of the car, blocking their exit. More flashes erupted, blinding in the darkness.

"Are you serious?" Lewis muttered, throwing the car into reverse and backing up quickly. He tried to swerve around the man, but the photographer sidestepped, keeping his lens trained on them.

"Lewis, stop! You’ll hit him!" she cried, grabbing his arm.

"He’s not going to move unless I make him," Lewis growled, but he reluctantly braked.

"Call security or something," she said, fumbling for her phone. Her hands were shaking as she pulled it out and began dialing.

"Oh, don’t bother," the paparazzo said, smirking as he lowered the camera. "I’ve got what I need."

And with that, he turned and jogged off, disappearing into the darkness of the parking lot. They sat in stunned silence for a moment, the tension in the air almost tangible.

"You okay?" Lewis finally asked, glancing at her.

"No," she admitted, her voice trembling. "What just happened?"

"We got caught," he said bluntly, running a hand over his face. "I’m sorry. I should have been more careful."

"It’s not your fault," she said, though her voice was shaky. "But... what do we do now?"

Lewis sighed, starting the car again. "We deal with it. Together. Whatever happens next, we’ll handle it."

She nodded, though her stomach was in knots. She couldn’t help but wonder if their world—their fragile, private world—had just shattered beyond repair.

[wowzees]

no matter what

lando norris x reader

y/n is not used!

a/n: this is a short story from uni- i have to make a collection of them

the one i posted earlier was also one, but these have not recived feedback from my professer or have been majorly edited. enjoy!

High school felt like the longest four years of my life. Days blurred into each other, routines became a way of life, and I thought I had everything figured out. I was one of those kids who had his group of friends, the sport he played, and the classes he took, all laid out in a neat, predictable order. Nothing ever really changed.

And then, there was her.

She’d been there from the start. The girl who wasn’t just a friend,she was something more, though I never said it out loud. We’d grown up together, laughed at the same inside jokes, gotten in trouble for the same stupid things. She knew me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I knew myself. She was the one I could count on for anything. She was the one who could make me laugh on days when nothing felt right. When life got heavy, when there was uncertainty about my future, she was the one I turned to. And I thought that would never change. Or maybe I didn’t think about it at all. Why would I need to? She was always there, like a constant in my life, something I could rely on. But looking back, I see the warning signs. Small things that I chose not to notice. 

At first, it was little things— how she stopped coming to my house after school everyday. How she stopped calling me for big milestones. It’s easy to ignore changes like that. Until they hit you all at once. And then, it was too late.

Without her presence, I started hanging out with the kids from my soccer team more, and more. I told them about all my problems with her. Their solution? They wanted me to prank her. I wanted to fit in. So, I agreed.

Maybe I was too busy with soccer, or maybe I just took her for granted. But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing her the way I always had. I saw how my actions hurt her. But, somewhere along the way i stopped seeing that. I stopped seeing how my actions hurt her.

But I didn’t think much about it at the time. After all, things had always worked themselves out between us, right? I guess I never thought I’d lose her, guess I thought that she’d always be there.

How wrong I was.

And seeing her now after graduation, getting ready to go to college and saying goodbye to friends for one last time, I can't help but remember a time when things were so much simpler.

Age, 7. Grade, 2

“Lan, wait up” she yelled, peddling her feet. I slowed my bike down and turned to face her. 

“Hurry up! You're being slow.” she peddled faster. Too fast. I watched in slow motion as she rides over a rock, flies through the air as if it’s molasses, then falls in what seems the same way a feather falls through the air. Then promptly crashes into a trashcan, scattering trash all around and on top of her. 

I quickly stopped my bike and ran to her. She was sitting there, covered in trash from the trash can, pouting. As I stood over her, and saw her covered in trash, I almost laughed. “Stop! It’s really not funny” she sniffled, though she now seemed a little happier. 

“I've bin waiting for this to happen” I joke, hoping to make her laugh.

“It's really not that funny” she snorts while giggling.

 “Yeah, well you’re still laughing” I argue. As she struggles to her feet, I realize I should probably help her. As I move to put her arm around my shoulder, she shoves me off. 

“I don't need your help, butthead” she says, crossing her arms and stares at me with her lips pursed. 

“Sorry, man, chill.” I say, not really understanding why she didn't want help. 

“I got worse when I first started playing volleyball, it's just a little scrape on my knee. It’ll heal” 

"Ok "I mumbled, feeling a little stupid.

As we walked home, we talked about silly things, like how funny she looked covered in trash, or about the people we didn't like at school. Before we parted ways, she threw her arms around me and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss that was gone as soon as it started to my cheek. “Bye Lando! I'll see you tomorrow at school!” she said over her shoulder as she ran home.

“Bye” I yell, after she had already disappeared into the house, my cheeks still red.

She had always been brave in her own way. Whether it was running into a trash can then getting back up with a skinned knee and no tears, or hiding her fears behind that stubborn smile of hers, she never changed. She was always the same, brave girl I had known since I was a kid. I wish I had known then how much that bravery would change the course of our friendship.

Age, 12  Grade 7.

The ferris wheel creaked more and more the higher up it went, carrying us higher, and higher into the night sky. Below we could see the rest of the fair, all the people enjoying themselves just like we are.

Her posture was slumped, and she was practically shaking on the little metal bench that lines the side of the carriage.

“Are you scared?” I ask. This wasn't a very normal occurrence, and I was honestly a little surprised. 

“What? Me? No! Of course not. I don't get scared” she responded, her voice shaky, and honestly not very convincing. 

“Hey, it's okay if you are scared. We all have things we are scared of; it doesn't make you weak.” I say in a soft tone, understanding when to tease and when to be comforting. 

“I'm not scared.”

“Yeah? Good, me neither. Honestly, it's really nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice being up here.”

“I guess it is pretty nice.”

“It's really pretty,” I say with a sigh.

“It is,” she responds with an airy voice.

Little did I know that while I was staring at the sky, she was looking at me.

Ever since that night on the ferris wheel, I had developed a liking for stars. She learned more about stars for me, though I didn't know that then. I thought it was just a coincidence, not something carefully planned. Ever since then, we would spend nights under the stars together, gazing upwards.

Age, 15. Grade 9.

“And that one’s named Altair” she said, pointing up at the brightest star in the sky.

“How do you know this?” I ask while chuckling.

“I learned it when I was in 8th grade for my science fair project. I won.”

“I know, you’ve only told me like a million times.”

“I have not!”

“Uh, yes you have.”

“Excuse yo- wow, it's like, really cold.”

“Here,” I say, shrugging my sweatshirt off. “Take it.”

“No, it's fine really. I don't need it, I’m fine.”

“If you don't take it, I’m actually gonna go insane!”

“Fine” she huffed, sticking her tongue out at me. “Thank you.” she mumbled.

“You're welcome.”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“We'll always be best friends, right?”

“Of course we will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

Back then, No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep. Before our future became closer and closer, before I found out she would be going to Yale. No matter what seemed like an easy promise to keep under the soft lighting of the stars, but under the fluorescent lights in the highschool hallways, and the pressure from the guys, the promise broke apart. 

“Hey Lan!” she exclaims, coming up to me “Hey,” I respond. “Where are your glasses?” I ask. She has always loved her glasses. She always said it gave her more personality, though I disagree. She has plenty of personality already. 

“Oh, I just switched to contacts for volleyball! It's too impractical to have to play without being able to see, ya know? Do you like them?” I actually think that she looks stunning with or without glasses, but since my friends from the soccer team are with me, I just say 

“ I dunno man, it kinda makes your eyes look too close together.” I feel absolutely terrible as I practically see her deflate. Her normally radiant smile disappears, her shoulders begin to tremble, and her eyes go glassy. At first, she didn't say anything. I could practically see her brain thinking of ways to respond. She was trying to act relaxed about it, but I knew her well. She doesn't do relaxed about these types of things.

 I hear the boys snickering from behind me, making stupid comments about how “he is so right” and “how can she not see that herself?” and “why does she talk so much?”. I'm actually about to turn around and tell them to shut up, and that I am the only one allowed to tease her like that, but before I can, she says something.

“Oh. Well, uh, I should be going to class. I'll see you later, Lando,” she mumbles. Her normally confident posture seemed impossibly timid and shy. Her posture didn't say ‘see you later’.  It said ‘leave me alone’.

While she walked down the hallway, the only thing I could focus on was the fact that she didn't call me Lan .

The next few days, I tried finding her, though she kept on avoiding me. Finally, I found her sitting outside at the tables, eating her lunch alone.

“Hey” I greet softly, sitting down at the table outside. 

“What do you want?” she responded, her tone sharp. She was wearing her glasses again.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said on Tuesday.” I say, barely audible.

“If you're going to say something, say it louder.”

“I wanted to apologize for what I said.” 

“Do you? Do you really? Or is this just another sick prank you and your friends are playing on me, huh? I stood there and took it in tenth grade, when you made fun of my brother, who, by the way looks up to you, in the cafeteria. I stood there and took it in eleventh grade when you texted everyone from my phone things that I would never, ever say about someone and especially TO someone, posted things on instagram that I would NEVER post, and then humiliated me by making me think that you were seriously hurt, then jump up and say “it's a prank” after i started crying? I even stood there and took it when you told me that my eyes were too close together! The one thing you know I'm insecure about, and you make fun of it? You’ve changed Lando! You and your stupid friends have made high school horrible for me! And even though you've been rude, and you've been mean, and you've in general been a nightmare to be around, I'm still in love with you, and I have been for the last 10 years! And I'm done with this! I will not, will not sit here and let you bully me because I’m your ‘best friend’! I stayed your friend because I thought you would notice me! I thought you would realize, but you didn't! And I’m done waiting, okay? I’m done. Bye, Lando.”

By now, she was crying. Before I could respond to her and apologize, I hear laughing and jeering coming from behind me. I turn around and march over to where the boys are standing. They chuckle upon seeing me, and I absolutely lose it.

“Are you guys actually stupid? You made me lose the most important thing in my life, because you ‘thought it would be funny’? She is worth more than you guys will ever be. She was a better friend, a better athlete, but most importantly, a better person than you guys! I’m done with y’all.” 

I turn back to where she was standing, but she's not there anymore.

The next few days, I look for her. I see her a couple of times, but she always manages to avoid me. 

One night, as I’m packing for college, I hear someone knocking on the front door.

I run down the stairs, thinking it’s the pizza I ordered for me and my sister, but it’s not. It’s her.

“Uhm, I just wanted to return this.” she says, handing me my sweatshirt that i gave to her 3 years ago. “I just thought I should return it before I leave for Yale.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, fearing the answer.

“Tomorrow.” 

The second I hear that word, my world stops. I hazily thank her for bringing the sweatshirt back, then slam the door. I vaguely remember stumbling up the stairs, and sitting down on my bed, my mind running a thousand miles a minute.

 I’m going to have to live without the person who was there for me at every problem, at every bad game, at every milestone in my life, and I lost her because of my own mistakes. I lost her because I let those stupid kids influence my decisions. I lost her because I didn't know how to communicate my feelings. And now, I’ll never get her back.

I was right. I never got her back. And deep down inside, I knew I was never going to get her back. I knew this when I met Emma. I knew this when I proposed to Emma. I knew this when I invited her to our wedding. But that truly, did not prepare me for when I saw her.

“And do you, Lando Norris, take Emma Sand to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do you part? ” asked the priest, his voice echoing through the church that held all of our friends and loved ones. 

“ I do.” 

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. After years of knowing her,  I could almost hear her thinking ‘that should have been me.’

And I feel horrible and disgusting and gross thinking this on my wedding day, but I'm inclined to agree. It should have been her. And it would have been, if not for my own stupidity.

And seeing her, brought me right back to all those years ago. And made me wonder; what happened to ‘no matter what.’

[anomaliex]

fabian and fig not ever having died is SO interesting to me, like i was relistening to the early episodes (crazy sentence since i’ve been a fan since 2020) and his desire to protect is such an interesting trait bc yes both he and fig have it, bc i think they both have that protective instinct + genuine desire to do so, but also the way fabian was raised to be ‘the man’ and part of that is being strong enough to defend not only your self but your family. like the thing where he chooses to save his mama in the end of s1 despite definitely would of rather having bill survive, and bill says i would have slit you in half if you saved me over her. this is all to say id love to hear if u have any more thoughts on fabian’s feelings

YEAH YEAH YEAH YOURE SO RIGHT!! I think there is a point in time where Fabian feels genuinely helpless and useless because he lets people get hurt and can't undo it. Or I guess that's not what I think, thats just canon. (I just finished answering this ask and I yapped a lot even though what I was actually trying to say is so straightforward. My bad lmao.)

It starts in freshman year. Younger Fabian thinks he is the most skilled and important kid in the world and then he gets that rug pulled from under him. I know he was adventuring with his father a little before but his first real own fight ends with two of his new friends dead. That sucked. He was arguably the most dejected afterwards? Like yeah Gorgug was having a rough time but Gorgug was having a rough time the whole day, Fabian went from such a high to such a low. He absolutely did not think he'd care that much going in, but then, be was under the impression that he's so strong and capable; if he's so strong then why did his allies die? Doesn't that prove his weakness? Some scrawny kid arguably showed more bravery than him by jumping right into a monster, and the bravest Fabian felt was probably when he managed to help Riz after that went south.

He absolutely was raised to "be a man" and more importantly a leader, but before that day Fabian wasn't ever actually responsible for anyone's safety — not even his own, because he grew up both coddled and socially isolated. The first time Fabian feels responsibility for the well being of others (which he has to take, because he is Fabian Aramais Seacaster and he's obviously in charge, right?) he realises how fucking heavy it weighs on his shoulders.

Later they have some fuck ups with Adaine and Kristen and get whooped into shape by his father and Fabian gets it into his head that yeah, he (and Gorgug) are the front liners. They're the protectors. He's strong and capable (and still so much better than most other people) and he's going to protect his friends (that he cares about so so so much even if he's at a point where he can't openly admit it) and nothing bad is going to happen and after defeating Kalvaxus it maybe seems like that's true and then BAM sophomore year. Two of his friends go missing. Fig ends up kind of fine "just" possessed but Riz is decidedly NOT fine and he had to fight a creepy mirror Riz not-clone and there is a moment where he thinks his best friend (who he, at this point refuses to openly call his best friend because he's a shitty insecure teenage boy) is fucking dead. I think Fabian had not yet considered how he'd feel if any of his friends died (again) before that, of course he didn't that's a crazy thing to think about. He'd managed to brush off the corn monster dilemma because that was their first fight and they were just inexperienced but it's never gonna happen again, but it does. His father also also died when he wasn't there — does this mean something? Do people die when he's not making sure to watch them? How can he keep everyone he cares about safe when he is just one man and all his hands know how to do is to slay one monster after the other in hopes they never reach his loved ones.

It's probably fine, he thinks, until it's not. Chungle Down Bim Arc. Right when he thinks he's in his element and feels good and smart and important and powerful he leads a crew of people straight to their death and comes out of it humiliated and needing to be saved and maybe he was never that strong at all.

He regains his confidence by stepping up as a protector and supporting his friends. Like yes a big part of it is just discovering that he's passionate about dancing but the bigger part is arguably putting out the fires on his party members. Fabian is so capable and worthy and helpful and he is keeping his friends from harm and he feels like himself again but also like a new man.

They enter the Nightmare King's Forest and it's his heroism spell that keeps Kristen safe. His magic born from the desire to protect. For just a moment he feels like he found himself and his battle sheet feels nice and warm under his finger tips and he feels right in his skin.

Then Kristen fucking dies.

And she doesn't just die, no, she dies in front of him when he elected to go with her and was supposed to keep her safe. He is supposed to protect his friends now and yet, and yet, he can't actually do anything. Kristen is dead and he doesn't know what happened and he doesn't know how to help and he is useless because there is nothing he can do to reach beyond death like Kristen has done to help them (mostly Gilear) oh so many times.

Then Riz and Adaine die. Everyone dies. Why do his friends keep dying and Fabian is always fine — why was he fine after the shit in Leviathan when everyone else died and he definitely should have met his demise as well? Is he strong? Is he just lucky? Is this a cruel trick of fate? Why does he, despite being stupid and reckless and putting people in danger again and again and again continue to survive when no one else does after he fails to protect them?

Fig hasn't died either, but she learns revivify and even starts creating diamonds to cast it on the spot. She's saving their friends. She's being helpful. She's using the gift of being permitted to stay alive again and again to help, and what is he doing? Nothing. He's not doing shit.

Except that's not right, because there is something he can do. There's something he did do. Because Riz was falling and slipping past his reach and he really thought he'd loose his friend but then the extension of himself that is so deeply connected to his own self discovery and acceptance reaches out and saves him. It saves Riz and embraces him so gently and brings him to Fabian so he can cradle him and swaddle him and keep him safe and the flames that are supposed to be so hot and destructive are simply just warm. It reaffirms his discovery that yes, this is good. This new him is a little softer and maybe a little less imposing but it's helpful and good, and he just has to focus on the fact that this new him knows how to protect his friends.

No longer is his version of protection just killing whatever is threatening them before it gets the chance to hurt, now it's more preventing harm. Which is so simple and obvious but it never occurred to him, and maybe it's stupid that it took him this long to learn, but all he ever knew was to be ruthless and to fight and to demand respect because that's how his father did it — but Fabian isn't his father and he's learning to be okay with that, and maybe he isn't even a leader but that doesn't mean that he does not hold the power to do what he wants.

Fabian can't do magic to revive anyone but he can and he must and he will keep them from dying in the first place in the future, and the strained muscles and calloused hands that previously sought only to fight for glory and recognition now act as a shield to keep others safe. They have to. If not that then he can't do anything else.

He regains his cocky attitude but with just a little more grace, he regains his fighting spirit but instead of being a champion (hurt fight kill) he's a battlemaster with manoeuvres that prevent foes from getting to his friends. He regains his grandiose presence, demanding attention in every space he enters, but now it serves to essentially draw aggro. Almost all of his spells are support or utility spells! Yeah that's because he is a college of swords bard and fighting wise acts like a martial but in character that means something. Fabian knows feather fall. He needs his precious spell slots to do damage and a younger Fabian with the same build would only focus on that and maybe buff himself, but this Fabian will always cast feather fall. He will never watch one of his friends almost slip through his fingers again.

That's not to say that he isn't still stupid, or occasionally reckless, or stops throwing himself into battle without thinking it through. But his priorities have shifted and his way of thinking has too and he can never ever allow anyone to fall while he's still standing. And maybe he didn't even change that much, maybe he just got more Fabian, less Bill. Because it was already a Freshman Year Fabian that took the sentinel feat (which in universe would translate to him purposely learning how to slow down opponents), no one else.

[fel-09]

General Acacius x Isekai! Reader x emperor Geta

Words 1.8k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3,Part 4

Version on Wattpad

Get into the movie?What a joke Part 5

After receiving the letter, you had to prepare urgently: buy new clothes, jewelry, arrange documents and assemble servants. Everyone was in a hurry, trying to do everything as quickly as possible and not embarrass themselves in front of the emperors, as it happened before. But to be honest, you were indifferent to all this. What difference does it make if you lose your job or not? You will still live in prosperity until (hopefully) you return to your time.

However, you gradually realized that losing job at the royal court was the height of humiliation. It's worse than divorce for a woman. Such a loss would have marked you as a "worthless Roman." In secular circles, not only the origin was appreciated, but also the position held. High status and good relationships provided protection from accusations. To dare to question you would be to defy the Emperor himself, and that would be a punishment. That's why most people preferred to keep quiet, even if you made mistakes.

Your position was protected on both sides. Your father, Flavius Cornelian, was a respected man who defended Rome. His power and money allowed him to protect your honor. The emperors' protection was also universal. Despite their personal animosity, you were still accepted out of respect for your father.

But it was a fragile defense. If one barrier collapsed, the others would collapse after it. Without the imperial support, people would have quickly untied their hands. The opinion of others and your father's reputation could only save you temporarily. In the eyes of society, you would become a stain that cannot be ignored.

Flavnia had calculated everything well. She was an intelligent woman, and it was not for nothing that the best teachers taught her from an early age. Her world, built cunningly and prudently, was held together by thin threads. If they are not reinforced, everything will collapse sooner or later. That's why you had to go, even if you didn't want to at all.

The immediate plan of action included several points:

1. Don't get married.

2. Save your job.

3. Sever ties with those who overshadow the status.

4. Stop any corrupt activity.

5. Stay away from the emperors (whenever possible).

The hardest part was getting rid of unnecessary connections. Of course, you could have asked your father for help... but the idea immediately seemed idiotic. It would be much better to collect evidence against these people, frame them, and then say, "I was only pretending to be corrupt in order to expose the real ones." Although this plan seemed too simple, it clearly had pitfalls.

"If I try to expose them, rumors are inevitable," you muttered to yourself, sitting at the dressing table.

Your reflection in the mirror was like someone else's. Golden curls fell to her shoulders, sparkling as if they had been woven by the gods. Her pale skin resembled snow-white alabaster, polished to a high gloss. Eyes as deep as a pool, as if someone were being dragged into the abyss and would not let go, captivating eternity. You were beautiful-too beautiful to be ignored. The slight carelessness in your gaze, as if you were about to sink into a sweet dream, made you look like a character from ancient myths

(I drew this with particular difficulty)

You sighed. No, it's not your face. It was never yours. You didn't want to get used to it. After all, sooner or later you will come back. Isn't that right?..

Flavnia's mother died in childbirth, and for her father, Cornelian, she became the most important person in her life. He pampered her, as if trying to numb his own pain. But something went wrong. Flavia's upbringing had unexpected results: at some point, she became cold and distant. These memories came back to you in fragments, like paintings through a fog.

There was a feeling that sixteen-year-old Flavnia harbored a burning hatred for everything that moved. Her only consolation was the flowers her mother had planted in the garden. It seems that this is why she became friends with the gardener... "That's why he wasn't surprised by my kindness," you thought, picking up a hair clip. After carefully securing it, you took another look in the mirror.

Flavnia's life turned out to be difficult, as well as her attempts to understand this world. She tried, but every time she faced a harsh reality. Memories of the past appeared more and more often, but they were still too blurry to put together a complete picture.

You turned around when the door creaked and Cornelian entered the room. A faint smile lit up his face.

"I don't want to let you go there,- he said, coming closer. His hands rested on your shoulders, stroked the top of your head, the gesture was simple but full of warmth. "But since you want to go back to work so badly, I won't try to persuade you." A job is a job.

"Everything will be fine, I'll try not to get into trouble anymore, Father," you replied with a slight smile, looking at him. Cornelian reminded you , your father from a previous life, who died of old age. He had lived a long, full life, but thinking about him still made you sad.

-No, I know you're not looking for trouble. They're the ones who find you... Anyway, I know who's behind it. If you want, I'll..." he began, but you held up your hand, stopping him in mid-sentence.

"Even if you get rid of this man, the rumors won't go away," you interrupted with a sigh. - It's too late to bring him to justice. We need to act differently, find those who are behind it.

Cornelian listened attentively to you, but his eyes remained worried. You took a lock of hair, gently twirled it around your finger and smiled. A name popped up in your memory.

- Marcia... - you said it barely audibly, but your father understood everything.

The emperor's third concubine, Marcia, was quite an influential woman. There was always a rivalry between her and Flavnia. Both are from noble families, both are well educated. But their paths diverged: one decided to become a queen, the other - to serve the empire. Marcia has always wanted to get rid of Plautia, because some senators wanted you to be empress.

Cornelian frowned, but then he smiled.

- Your ideas have always been much more practical than mine. I'm used to acting fast and tough, but you're right. Be careful, daughter," he said, adjusting the scarlet cape on your shoulders.

You watched him walk out of the room, leaving you alone. The last time you looked in the mirror, you were convinced that everything was perfect. Your sly smile touched your lips.

"Well, it's time to declare yourself to the empire," you whispered, ready for a new challenge.

---

The carriage moved cautiously along the Roman roads. My back ached from sitting for a long time, but I had no choice: ancient Rome was not generous with comfort. When the traffic stopped, you counted to ten to catch your breath and collect your thoughts.

The servants of the Imperial Palace were waiting for you outside the carriage. They respectfully bowed their heads, opened the door and gave you their hand. You got off the carriage, ignored their politeness, and took the first step. Your movements were fast, and your cloak was fluttering in the wind.

Passing by the tall columns, you felt a strange feeling - a mixture of deja vu and anxiety. It was all familiar to your memory, but it seemed alien.

When you entered the palace, you stopped at the doors, which the guards opened in front of you. Your posture, the confidence in your gait, the cold look in your eyes-all this screamed about your inaccessibility.

- Mrs. Flavnia Plautia has arrived at the post! One of the guards announced.

Silence reigned in the meeting room.

Two emperors, Geta and Caracalla, sat on the throne. One of them, the eldest, crossed his legs while the woman whispered something in his ear. Geta did not move an eyebrow, only coldly watching what was happening.

The youngest, Caracalla, was playing with a monkey with curiosity. He didn't seem interested in your presence at all.

You glanced at them briefly, just nodding your head slightly in greeting.

"I was already elated at the thought that your absence would save me from unnecessary worries," Geta began with a sneer. His voice echoed off the marble walls. - But, alas, I still see you here.

You met his gaze without flinching.

"No matter how sad my presence makes you, I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it. Fate decreed otherwise," you replied calmly, maintaining confidence in your voice.

Some of the courtiers flinched at your words, not expecting such an audacious response.

-Alas, I lack the pleasure of showing my distress as clearly as you do," the emperor retorted, his fingers gripping the armrest of the throne.

You noticed his reaction, but your smile remained unchanged.

The silence in the hall seemed to be becoming unbearable. The stares of the courtiers burned through you like scorched coals. Geta continued to watch in silence, his gaze heavy, almost tired, but there was tension under that mask. He stood up slowly, tugging at the dark fabric of his cape, and took a few steps forward.

"Flavnia," he said at last, with the care with which a man touches a long-forgotten wound. - Your appearance here raises only one question for me. Why did you come back?

His words were cold, but there was no open threat in them. Rather, it resembled the conversation of a man who is trying to figure out what kind of power is in front of him.

"I think it's obvious, Your Majesty," you replied, lifting your chin slightly. "My duty is to serve Rome. And that's why I came back.

Geta narrowed his eyes, his face remained unreadable. Several courtiers exchanged glances, and one of them quietly whispered something to his neighbor.

-Service," he repeated slowly, as if trying the word out. And yet... What are you willing to give for this service? Or maybe you've come just to remind us of your importance again?

Those words almost sounded like an accusation, but you didn't flinch.

"Rome deserves more than empty words, Your Majesty. I'm here to prove it with my deeds, not with conversations.

You saw his eyebrow twitch slightly, but otherwise he remained motionless. His answering gaze was cold, as if his mind was probing every letter in your words, looking for a weak spot.

_________

There may be mistakes in the text, because my English is not perfect, some places were not edited by me, because all this time I was studying at the university

[stevie-petey]

Hi! I love your writing, it’s seriously impeccable. I was wondering- remember the part where you wrote in the first chapter for season 4, where Chrissy gave reader a daisy (or daisies ?) when everything happened in season 1? Whenever you can, I was wondering what that would have looked like, like a mini little blurb.

:}

yes !!! chrissy was a sweetie i like to imagine her and bug were friendly and admired the other from afar </3

enjoy !

"excuse me?"

youre in the library trying to catch up on all the work youve missed these last few weeks, and youre so lost in your readings that you jump when you feel the girls hand gently tap your shoulder. "jesus!"

the table thuds, knee coming into contact with it in your terror, and your heart stops. memories of the demogorgon still fresh on your mind, any touch from someone sets you into a spiral.

"sorry!" the girl squeaks in embarrassment, and when you look up, you see chrissy cunninghams cheeks flushed. "i-im sorry! i didnt mean to scare you, i promise-"

your heartbeat settles. placing a hand on hers, you placate chrissys anxious thoughts. "its alright. no harm done." you smile at her, winking, hoping to dispel any remaining tension. "just a bruised knee."

yet chrissys face pales now. "oh, no. thats even worse. i really didnt mean to make you jump like that."

"it really isnt your fault." you reassure her again. "honestly, anything these days makes me jump."

"because of will?" chrissy asks you before she can stop herself. she flinches at her own question, similar to a small deer scared of its own shadow, and your heart aches for the girl before you. "i-im so sorry. that was a rude question-"

"would you like to sit?"

its not that you interrupt chrissy because youre bored of her. you interrupt her because you know what its like to spiral into anxious thoughts and uncertain boundaries. chrissy has been your classmate for years, but the two of you were always divided by a line created by social hierarchy. she chose cheerleading, and you chose jonathan.

but despite this divide, youve always watched chrissy in awe. shes kind. kinder than anyone youve ever met, and her soft demeanor juxtaposed the charisma needed to become head cheerleader at only sixteen. and yet youve never seen her cruel to anyone.

"well?" you beckon chrissy towards the seat next to you. "since youre here, might as well keep me company, right?"

chrissy nods, silent, and softly sits down. everything she does is soft. she smells of rosebuds and her doe eyes remind you of your childhood.

as she sits, you notice something white poking out from her bag. curious, you peer over the table. "whats in there?"

she stiffens at your questioning. everything you seem to do frightens her in some capacity. as if shes afraid any minute she'll upset you, and you try not to read into it, you really do, but her shy demeanor concerns you.

"chrissy," you gently grab her hand, eyes finding hers. shes warm to the touch, skin as soft as she is. "im just an annoyingly inquisitive person who cries watching ants get stepped on."

she laughs, and the cadence of it rings like bells. "ants?"

"im fond of bugs." you shrug at her, only knowing the true meaning behind your words.

she doesnt question you, though, and instead loops her arm through her backpack and places it on the table. you watch her with patience as she unzips it, unsure what she's doing, until she's pulled out freshly cut daisies.

you gasp. the flowers are lovely. "theyre beautiful!"

chrissy smiles shyly. "theyre for you, actually?"

"me?"

"mhm," she hands them to you, a sudden boldness to her once petrified nature. on her face is a proud smile, eager to have done this one nice thing for you, and for a second you see your reflection in her eyes. "here."

you hold the flowers close to your chest. they smell like spring and laughter. "i... why?"

"theyre for you and will." chrissy fixes one of the stems, delicate and deft. "when i heard about his disappearance, when he died..."

its your turn to look away. the reminder of seeing what you thought was wills lifeless body only days ago. how small he looks now in the hospital bed. how els body isnt next to his.

chrissy clears her throat, anxious she's upset you, and tries to ease the sting. "but hes alive now, and i figured you and him could use some flowers after everything youve been through."

she picks at a daisy, watches the small plant with fondness. "flowers. funny how something so frail can bring so much hope."

something about the way she says it, the way her words twist, makes your throat close up. pressure builds behind your eyes and you have to quickly wipe them before chrissy sees and starts to worry again.

"thank you," your voice cracks. "i... will hates how dull the hospital walls are."

chrissy laughs, leaning into you, and you cant help but laugh with her as well.

[cherrygirlfriend]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ camping

pairing: pope x kook!reader synopsis: pope and reader go out camping for her birthday... and something special happens. warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, sweet awkwardness, praise MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; as someone who was a girl scout for six years; pope was definitely a boy scout. originally posted 09/12/2024

when pope's great idea for your birthday was to take you camping, to say you were reluctant would be an understatement, especially since your initial plan was to lose your virginity on said day, and the thought of sleeping in the middle of some forests surrounded by mosquitos and god knows what kind of wild animals wasn't exactly your idea of a "romantic evening."

you couldn't help it, you had always been a planner, and when pope had brought up the idea of camping with you for your birthday, you had subtly tried to tell him it wasn't something you were too interested, but the boy seemed so sweetly clueless about it, you didn't want to burst his bubble of excitement, especially when he showed you the camping gear he'd dug up from his storage from his days as a boy scout.

so, you just decided to try and make it as romantic as possible. your parents had conveniently misplaced one of their expensive bottles of wine, which had somehow ended up in your trunk, and you had purchased a new lingerie set as well as condoms, wanting to make sure you were prepared.

you were pacing around your bedroom, your duffle bag having been packed with the things you'd need; you didn't know why you were nervous, it wasn't like you'd never done anything sexual, and more often than not, your heated makeout sessions in your bed ended up with his hand in your panties or his cock in your mouth.

but the thing was... he had no idea that you were a virgin. sure, you had boyfriends before him, but most of the time things stayed strictly hand-or-mouth zone. but honestly, the moment you two drove to the nearby cliffs and he told you about the different constellations, you were ready to jump him right there, but you didn't want to give him the wrong idea, so you simply adored him while the boy pointed out the stars to you. however, after a few weeks of dating, he drunkenly told you about how he'd only slept with one person, and was kind of worried that you were more experienced, which you found adorable.

but, when you finally heard your doorbell ring, you took a deep breath, and tried to calm yourself down before having to face your boyfriend and have the boy realize that you had just spent the entire morning overthinking a simple camping trip.

"are we going where i think we're going?" you asked pope, the boy driving your car, having nicked your sunglasses off the dashboard, now covering his eyes, and to be fair, they looked much better on him than they did on you.

"damn, have i already lost the ability to surprise you?" he chuckled, making you roll your eyes playfully, the boy taking your right hand into his and pressing a kiss onto it, "we are. but i have a surprise for you waiting there."

honestly, i should've known that the place he was taking me was the location of our first date even before he turned the car on; he wouldn't really admit it, but there was a part of him that could be incredibly cheesy, and you liked that about him. most of the guys you'd dated before him hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as pope was, and even though you'd only dated him for a few months, he'd been more considerate than some boyfriends you'd been with for close to a year.

it wasn't long until the two of you arrived near the cliffs where you'd had your first date, pope taking your hand into his as you traipsed through the woods, the boy much more comfortable in the terrain that you were, and whenever you were about to trip, he steadied you, trying not to laugh.

you gasped when you finally realized what pope's surprise was, when you noticed a tent perched close to the cliff, overlooking the water. the two of you walked closer to it, and that was when you realized that pope had put up fairy lights all around the tent, and there was a blanket that stretched all the way over to the cliff so you could sit there and look at the stars like you'd done on your first date.

"do you like it?" he asked, as he wrapped his warm arms around you, and you looked up to him with a smile, nodding eagerly, the sight in front of you causing your heart to clench in your chest. "i love it."

"how many times do i need to tell you to blow on it?" pope laughs, almost doubling over on the blanket as he just watched while you struggle with the s'more, letting the gooey confection fall onto a plastic plate before you took a large chug of wine from your plastic cup, the liquid now lukewarm.

you'd spent the day swimming, watching while pope surfed, playing cards, and simply talking, now he was blowing onto your s'more, while the two of you sat on the blanket on the cliff, and as you felt the wine starting to warm you up, the last thing you cared about was your damn s'more, but you also didn't know how to initiate, the boy always-

"i wanna have sex."

before you could think about your wording any more, it just... slipped out, pope's eyes widening as he let out a cough, nearly choking on his wine as he processed your words. "what?" he asked in between coughs, and you waited for him to start coughing before repeating yourself.

"i wanna have sex. with you, if that wasn't clear." you said, clearing your throat, "that came out... more straightforward than i intended." you said with a small smile, feeling your cheeks warm up as you looked down at the ground.

"are... are you sure?"

"yeah. i mean, i've wanted it for a really long time, but i suck at initiating any of that stuff, and i haven't ever done it before so it's probably gonna be awkward and if you don't want to, that's also fine and i can definitely wait even longer but-"

before you could babble any longer, pope pressed his lips on yours, and somehow his kiss could make you forget everything you were thinking about, your focus only on him as he pulled you closer by your waist, hunger evident in every move he made as if he hadn't just eaten three s'mores, his lips tasting of the red wine you'd been sharing.

he pulled away from the kiss, the palm of his hand moving to cup your cheek, "i'd love to, but... are you sure? like... absolutely sure? you really haven't... done it before?"

"i'm more than sure." you say, your voice weak from the effect his kiss had on you, "i've known pretty much from the first time you kissed me right here. you're... just the sweetest guy i know. you're so smart, and... i've never liked anyone as much as i like you."

"you're adorable." he says as he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, "i, uhh... i just don't have any..." pope clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and although you didn't know it, he was internally cursing himself for not accepting the condom jj had offered him earlier. "protection, y'know."

"i do."

pope almost let out a chuckle at how fast you had rebutted his words, the boy watching as you pulled out a condom from your purse, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "you came prepared, huh?" he couldn't help but grin, his amusement only heightening when he saw the pout on your face, the boy pressing a small kiss on your lips, "i think that's cute."

it wasn't long until the two of you were tangled on the blanket under the stars, pope's shirt thrown into the tent, your dress pushed up until it was only covering your breasts, pope kneading the fat of your ass, his lips greedily consuming yours.

he pulled away from the kiss, leaving the both of you panting and breathless, his calloused hands pulling your dress off in its entirety, throwing it into the tent, his lips attaching themselves to your neck while you unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, one of his fingers slipping into your panties, the boy letting out a small chuckle into the crook of your neck when he felt how wet you were.

when the rest of your clothes were discarded, you watched as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock with a sigh, biting down on your lip as a mixture of eagerness and nervousness rolled around in your abdomen.

"tell me if it hurts too much, or if you want to stop, alright?" he looked at you with raised brows, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as his chest was pressed against yours, pope brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i will." you smiled, positioning your hands on his shoulders.

you weren't quite prepared for the loud gasp that he'd pull you from you when only the tip of his cock was in you; sure, he'd prepared you and tried to stretch you out with his fingers beforehand, but even his thick digits hadn't prepared you enough.

"are you alright?" he paused his movements, peppering soft kisses on your neck, "just tell me if you want me to stop."

"i'm okay..." you said breathlessly, "go ahead."

it took you a while to get used to feeling him stretch you out, it definitely didn't help that pope was probably the biggest guy you had dated, but slowly it started hurting less and less, the boy whispering sweet words into your ear as he moved inside of you slowly, your back arching against the blanket, your nails digging into his back every time he bottomed out inside of you, causing him to let out low groans every time he hit that spot inside of you.

"you're doing so well..." he spoke softly, his thumb rolling over your clit, slowly starting to pick up his pace, "taking me so well... don't know how i went so long without you, you feel so fucking good..."

his lips attached themselves to one of your hardened nipples, your mind turning hazy as you tried to focus on all the sensations pope was making you feel, the coil in your stomach growing with every roll of his hips, one of your hands in his hair as you let out a moan, arching into his mouth.

"pope, i'm getting close..." your words were between a mumble and moan, but it seemed that pope still understood what you had said, picking up his pace just slightly so it'd be easier for you to achieve your orgasm.

it wasn't long until you were moaning out his name, overcome with your orgasm as he continued moving inside of you, slowing down his movements as he let you ride out your orgasm.

when pope had come undone himself, he threw the used condom into the trash bag he had brought, pulling you close to his chest as he pressed a kiss on top of your head, covering your naked bodies with another blanket.

"that's cepheus." he said against your hair, pointing up at one of the constellations in the sky while you simply nuzzled closer to his chest, letting out a soft "mmhm..." as you closed your eyes, somehow feeling more comfortable on a cliff in the middle of the forest than you even did in your own bed. "happy birthday."

BONUS: before he came to see you, when pope told his friends about what his plan for your birthday was, jj definitely clapped him on the back and said, "you're finally gonna get laid!" and tried to get him to take a condom with him, but pope just looked at him murderously.

[viperify]

𝗔𝗨 | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Moonlight Cravings.

Short summary: Vampire!Tom has known he’d make you his ever since he first met you. When his need for your blood grows unbearably strong, he knows it’s time to finally make a move.

A/N: As I plan on writing more than just one full-length fic for my Vampire AU anyway and haven’t had the time to work on it yet, I thought I’d get started with a how-vampire!Tom-would-slowly-declare-his-presence-in-your-life drabble/fic.

wordcount: 1,0k

Tom’s presence looms over your life like a shadow. He seems to be wherever you go, and though he never pays you much attention, he still is there. Either casually leaning against the wall near the class you are attending next or accompanying his friends to the Three Broomsticks when you are there as well. Which is quite ironic, considering most people know Tom doesn’t even like butterbeer.

In fact, you are not quite sure if he likes anything really. Each time you share a class, Tom is mostly quiet, except for his witty remarks whenever professors ask questions. Even outside the classroom he doesn’t talk much, mostly found in the library with his head buried in books. Well, as long as you are in the library as well, that is.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s Tom Riddle, after all—naturally one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on, but oh so unreachable. You vividly remember a girl back in your third year asking him to attend the Yule Ball with her. It was a decision she made against the advice of practically everyone she asked, and it ended exactly the same way you had told her it would. Things like these never end well with him, so you don’t even attempt questioning his behaviour—instead, you think you are utterly delusional for even assuming there could be anything between the two of you.

Tom, on the other hand, is entirely consumed by you. From the moment he first caught your unmistakably sweet scent, he knew he had to have you, his mind going blank every time you simply passed him in the corridors. It’s as if there is a force pulling him towards you, one that he can’t control, one that clouds his mind and strips him of any sane thoughts he had left. Taming his needs as a vampire has never been difficult. Not until he met you, that is.

And as soon as bouquets of your favourite flowers show up in your dorm every other week, accompanied with small gifts like your pralines of choice, you can’t help but wonder whether there was a chance Tom’s strange behaviour did have something to do with this. It’s these thoughts that keep you up at night and make you zone out in class. There is not much you can do except wonder who it is that admires you, but you sure have a guess.

During yet another restless night, you decide to get up and take a walk through the castle to calm your mind. The hallways are faintly illuminated by the moon’s glow, shining brightly as it completes yet another full circle around the earth. Although your steps are as quiet as they can possibly be, you soon feel the air shift around you, as though someone is watching you. But when you turn around, no one is there.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around the castle this late at night.” A voice coming from your right remarks, and you almost drop your wand, heart hammering wildly in your chest in response to the unexpected interruption. A tall figure emerges from behind a pillar then, and it takes you less than one second to figure out who it is. You had forgotten that Tom Riddle also happened to be a prefect.

It’s too dark to make out much of his face, but there is an undeniable red glow that flickers in his otherwise dark brown eyes. Before you can even process the thought, he blinks, and it’s gone. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly as he takes in your startled expression, raising his eyebrow expectantly.

 “I suppose I- I couldn’t sleep. You must know, walking helps to clear my mind.” You manage to get out, and although it isn’t a lie, your hesitation sure made it sound like one.

Tom huffs. “A selfish action that just cost your house ten points. Now, you surely wouldn’t mind me escorting you to your respective dormitories?”

You don’t try to argue—it is still Tom Riddle you’re dealing with after all. Instead, you respond with a small nod and retrace your steps with him by your side.

“What might your mind be troubled with?” he asks then, his voice cutting through the silence of the night. The question makes you tense slightly, your fingers curling tighter around your wand. It’s the first time he actively looks for a conversation, the first time his presence feels intended and real.

You take a breath, not exactly knowing what to respond. “Your seemingly seventh sense for my whereabouts“ doesn’t seem like an appropriate answer after all.

The upcoming exam season saves you from the awkwardness. Although he doesn’t seem to fully believe you, he lets it go, not speaking another word until you disappear behind your dormitory door.

But even then, you can’t seem to sleep, the image of the red glow in his eyes lingering in your mind. You know there is something you can connect it to, and soon, a memory of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in your second year resurfaces.

Full moon. Pale skin. Red eyes. They all match, and yet you find it hard to believe. Vampires have been extinct for nearly 400 years in Great Britain, there was no real reason for you to think he could be one.

Right?