#I disappear for like five months and come back a changed man

[littledes1re]

How to disappear | Chapter: one

Summary: after the passing of your mom, you and your dads best friend get close. You find comfort in him and he does the same because he also once lost something. While a relationship between you two sounds wrong and taboo, your feelings grow stronger. But Joel is an old man, guilt and the fear of losing you too, overwhelms him. So he leaves you.

Warnings: Angst, grief, heartbreak, lots of emotions, (fluff as a flashback), joels alcohol problems, dad that doesn’t care for his daughter, age gap! (23 and 61), crying, kind of depression, smut (as a flashback)

A/N: Okey Okey, I may said next week but I was already done with it so finally it’s here. Some dbf and Oldman!joel angst hehehe. Ngl I kinda hurt myself with this one.

Dear joel,

i‘m still thinking about the first time you kissed me, gentle, careful, caring.

I wish you‘d see how much I love you, how much I love being in your presence, how much I love our midnight talks.

We are both broken, something connected us. You made it a reason to leave me, I made it a reason to call you my soulmate.

I feel heartbreak. I cry myself to sleep, tell me..is that better than us comforting each other and having fun?

I miss our conversations, I miss your smile and your ability to comfort me.

Dad is asking why you are distancing yourself.

I love you, always.

Winter felt like forever.

A never ending cycle of dark and cold days, where the world stays still when snow falls. Lingering loneliness creeping up, as you fall for the hopelessness of it all and allowed the weather to dictate your mood while in the back of your mind the soft touches and whispers swam around of someone you where aching to be revolved around with once again.

Joel Miller.

Your last conversation stuck in your mind like the withering words only an enemy can say to you. Repeating itself over and over till there is only a echo of two words. We can‘t.

But there was no flicker of rejection in his eyes as he touched you, no regret as he cuddled you after his release, no shimmer of a different personality you weren‘t aware of, you knew him long enough. At least you thought so.

The aching in your heart and tummy was one that didn‘t go away no matter how much time had passed. The sadness clinged on you, wrapping tightly around your ribs, making it hard to breathe. It was one that grew each day for the past season, now coming to the point that you feel yourself getting sick from it. Flashes of memories startle you while you want to go on with your day. The glimpse of his brown eyes, landing on your face, soft and gentle the way you always knew him. Faints laughs of you two whenever it’s quiet.

And somehow underneath all of this it remembered you of your mom. The day she passed, the darkness that fell on you, the ability to not think straight as your eyes were hurting from crying. The shock not letting up, moving like a ghost trough life, pretending to function. Time would heal, but it didn’t. Time just showed you how to carry the pain without showing it.

You wanted to be small again, cradled by your mother’s hands, soothed by her voice.

“It feels like time has stopped for you and the people around you don’t care. You somehow have to function, but the person was your sole reason to function.” His eyes were emotionless.

Joel stopped crying after five months. He became a vessel of a man who once showed his kindness through actions and words and now someone who shuts everyone off. Grief is not predictable. It changes, buries itself deep beneath the skin and eats you alive. Joel never asked for comfort. But he gave it to you. He thought he didn’t deserve warmth, he thought he didn’t want to feel joy. But he let you feel all of those things.

The rough patch of his beard tickled your skin as you laid on top of him, nuzzling your face into his neck. The tears were dry on your cheeks, your eyes swollen and red as a headache started to form. His big hands rubbing circles on your back, soothing you to sleep.

“She is watching over you.”

The line that was crossed was blurred. The day you caught feelings was unknown. You just knew that there had been this silent connection between you two right after he decided to knock on your door to check on you.

“How y’doing, kiddo?”

Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t except it from him. Maybe it was the fact that your dad was distant after your mom’s passing. Maybe it was the fact that both of you lost something.

A man you should suddenly avoid because of his alcohol problems; your dad’s sayings. After his daughter’s passing he developed an alcohol problem, something that was clear whenever he was in your house, his eyes hazy, movements too unsteady. Your heart ached for him, never understanding how people do that to themselves. But after your mom, you did. His actions spoke louder than his words. He still helped your father around the house, with his job, with other things. He was there ,only his emotions were completely submerged, a veil placed over them so no one could recognize his true feelings.

That night, changed it all. He calmed your nerves, gave you the comfort you’ve been aching for the past eight months, and after that he finally let you in his heart. Told you what he was feeling. Guilt, anxiety and anger. His lips were quivering, eyes dark and swollen. Jaw clenched, as if he was trying to bite back the sob clawing up his throat. His breath shaky.

“I should’ve been there.” The only thing that he would murmur and then silence. A rather comfortable and understanding one. You don’t say anything, you just watch. Seeing the same emotions going through him as the day you lost your mom. His eyes would finally lift, and they would shine but not with kindness but with anger and sorrow. You could see it.

“An-and I feel selfish. For now coming in here and telling you this while you also lost someone.”

“Hey, hey. No.” Your hand gently lands on his shoulder, slowly moving to his hair caressing through his curls, while looking at him. His eyes softened, suddenly filling full of worry, bottom lip pouting. Looking at you like a kicked puppy. You felt tears leaving your eyes, landing on your thighs, you wanted to hug him. You knew how he was feeling. You also wanted to give him comfort.

“Don’t even think like that. You’re not selfish for speaking it out. You’re human, joel.”

He tilts his head slightly, you doing the same. A flicker of something knowing passing through your gaze.

“And if you really think thats selfish, then i’m selfish too. For wanting to hear it. You should’t carry it alone.”

For the first time, joel let’s go of the breath he has been holding for a long time. It doesn’t fix anything— but in this quiet moment, something shifts.

A piece of his sorrow, no longer carried alone.

He came over more often. Opened your door, sneaked in your bed and cuddled you, whenever your father was at home, you went to his place. He didn’t care anyway. You two had small road trips, where he drove you to his favourite places, music in the background, your head out of the window, enjoying it. It felt safe, it felt right.

Every worry in your head disappearing when he put your head on his chest. Soft humming and fingertips caressing the skin. Your conversations were not only about loss. They were flowing easily, they were funny.

“This thing is gonna give me a heart attack one day, I swear.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, trying to find the right buttons to put it on silent.

“Ain’t working like that, wait—you have a nokia? Where the hell is your phone?” You asked widened eyes, after you snatched his supposed phone out of his hands.

He snatched it back, eyebrows furrowing.

“What about it? Tommy bought me one because they are easy to use.”

“No, no. S’nice.” You tried to suppress a giggle. And as you swallowed you looked around his house, he looked at you with a grumpy expression.

“What? I can’t keep up with your new generation shit.”

“Oh I bet, I bet. I just find it funny.” You finally giggled, laying back down on his couch, holding your tummy.

“Y’know what’s real funny? You don’t even know half of these movies that I showed you.”

You gasped, sitting up again. His face all smug, a smirk on his lips.

“What? They are cult classics c’mon now—“

“Yeah, for old people.” You rolled your eyes playfully, seeing his face all serious now.

Giggling, you stood up as he abruptly did so too, stretched out his arms to reach for you.

And you knew what that meant. You laughed just more, running around his coffee table and he followed you, trying to grab you. And suddenly he did, throwing you gently on the couch and began tickling you.

“J-joel” you couldn’t breathe from the laughter.

You thought your dad would comfort you and be there for you after what happened, you didn’t think it was going to be joel. But your dad locked himself up, ignoring his dad duties. Leaving you alone, not showing his emotions, not letting you show yours. His demeanour was cold, distant it felt like living with a stranger. You understood why. You understood that he also lost someone, but he never once asked how you are, never once opened the topic of Mom again. Deleted it from his life like it never existed. And while doing that he also deleted you slowly.

Your friends stopped texting, one didn’t know how to comfort you. The other one was acting like it wasn’t a big deal. So you also deleted that topic from them, from your father. Joel was the only one who heard you talking about your mom.

And then he left you. So now, you were completely alone.

But maybe you didn’t really love him. Maybe you just loved his comforting. Maybe you just needed someone and he was there. Would you love a man forty years older than you if your father acted like a father? The way he looked at you, worshipped you, made you feel good. Made you feel special. Took care of you. Something connected you two. Wasn’t those signs of love?

“Hurting?”

“No, think i’m good.” You whispered to him. The stretch was unusual, nothing that you haven’t had before but it felt different. It was with joel.

“S’good, real good.” He nodded his head to you. Under the covers, vulnerable, you two were naked. There were goosebumps all over your skin, and his too. Joel lets you adjust on his shaft, worried eyes scanning your face to see if you show any sign of discomfort.

The atmosphere in the room was calm, lights dimmed and if felt comfortable. The first time you really made out with him and laid your hands on his bulge he stopped you. “Wanna do it right.” He took his time, kissing every inch of your body, teasing you, loving on you. Calling you his pretty girl. Making your eyes almost tear up of how much love he was giving you.

He was extra careful as he started to thrust into you, little breaths leaving his mouth, your hands gripping his biceps. A little moan leaving your lips, feeling the pleasure in your belly slowly fill.

His gaze never left you, he noticed it all. The smile you give him, cheeks flushed, trying to breath right and suppress a loud moan. The way he handled you with gentle hands cupping your cheek, kissing your forehead.

“Joel—please.” A coo leaving his mouth, speeding his thrusts into you.

Joel would bite back a groan, his thrusts sometimes sloppy, sometimes losing the rhythm because it’s been so long. But you didn’t care. You loved feeling him all, you loved being with him.

And when he came his face would twist, you would gently touch his face. He would bury himself into you on last time and then hide into your neck, leaving wet kisses while catching his breath. While you didn’t come, you were still content and satisfied to have him on top of you. But of course he realised it and ate you out for one hour, taking his time, giving you the best orgasms of your life.

You never got an answer from the letter. You never got an answer on your countless texts and calls. He cut you out. And you were trying your best to be angry, you really were. But deep down, the sense of understanding was spreading. You knew how much trouble you two would be going through if your father or anyone in your family found out. Anyone in his family too.

The age gap would let everyone turn their heads in the streets.

Your friends, colleagues everyone would think he is a weirdo. That you are a weirdo.

But then you ask yourself why?

Why did he let you develop these feeling for him? Why did he give you a reason to think that he was in love with you? Why did he comfort you? why did he give you this feeling that everything is going to be fine? Why did he make you believe that there was a connection between you two?

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Can you help me set the table? Joel is also coming—oh and his girlfriend too, apparently.”

AAA this took so long, but i’m actually proud of this. Please if you see mistakes or want to give feedback, feel free to do so.

Thank you so so much for 900 followers, it’s truly unbelievable.🥹🥹

Chapter two!

My Masterlist!!!

Taglist:

@vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @cuntyhunty22 @glitterspark @tikikiki @millerdilfs @lovelystrawberrysblog @millersdoll @mani-pedro @simp4pedro @angelic1angel @hazzzy418 @valitagun @throttlepascal @speaktothehandpeasants @mystickittytaco @whatwouldsookiedo @sage-babydoll @umadirectioner @neobangverse @stvrl1ghtt123 @midnightmischief10 @ccmoonshine @dendulinka6

[sincere1ystar]

Loved You First

rafe cameron x fem! reader | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1

Two years ago, Rafe left the island without saying a word. Unknowingly to him, you were pregnant all along. When he finally comes back, he’s desperate to get you back not knowing it’s more complicated than it seems.

𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

Two years ago. That’s when you last saw Rafe Cameron. And during those two years you were pregnant for nine months with his baby. Not that he knew though.

It was difficult to say the least, and if it wasn’t for your little girl Julie , your heart would have never recovered. She was only about a year and a half, but she was sunshine in human form. Julie had the same eyes as her father that destroyed your idea of love, but she had your kind and giving spirit. She had the same smile as the man who left you one day for good, but she had your fondness for animals. Sure many of her physical attributes came from Rafe, but her heart was all you.

Maybe Rafe disappearing without a single explanation or goodbye was the reason you swore off affection for good. Everyone knew it did, but you insisted that your decision to lock the door of love and throw awake the key was to focus on yourself and your baby. Plus it’s not like you haven’t moved on. Well, maybe not romantically speaking, but you’ve moved on with your life. You had a job as a waitress at the local diner and even though Julie didn’t have her dad in the picture, your friends made sure that she had many aunts and uncles to shower her with love and care.

Of course you still struggled. Providing for a child was expensive, especially with only having a waitress job to support the two of you. On top of it all pathetic as it was, you still thought about Rafe even though it was two years since he left without a word. What if he stayed? He hadn’t even known you were pregnant, you never got the chance to tell him.

You constantly found yourself dwelling on these what-ifs. But it’s not like anything would change, your paths would never cross for. The thought was solidified in your head until you heard the news. Rafe was back on the island.

Well he technically wasn’t back permanently. But he’s been coming back and forth for buisness trips, and each time you’ve managed to skillfully avoid him. Not like it was hard, The two main places you spent your time was the diner and home anyway.

The first time you saw him in person after everything was at the diner. One of your friends was babysitting little Julie as you were working a double shift that day. You were giggling at a joke on of your coworkers made when the door chimed open.

“Hey what can I get started for you”— The menu in your hands was now dropped onto the floor once you saw who it was. Rafe. Your ex lover and the father of your child, who didn’t even know he was a father.

You weren’t going to let him see you weak. You weren’t going to let him see you flustered while stumbling over your words. “Sorry about that. What can i get started for you again?”

“Hey.. Can we talk?”, Rafe asks not even bothering to look at the menu placed in front of him. Unlike you, he wasn’t caught off guard in the least. He must have found out you were working at the diner somehow.

Two years. Two years since he left without a word. It didn’t matter whether or not he knew you were pregnant or not, he still left. And you were determined to not let him back in that easy. “I’m sorry that’s not an option on our menu. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“I just need five minutes—“

“So what can I get started for you today? Our appetizers are on the front page”.

“Fine play it like that. I’ll take a water then”.

Before he can say anything else you turn back, your heels stomping during each step. He’s back? Why did he have to come here out of all place? Who does he think he is asking to talk? He’s the one who left two years ago without saying a word. If your boss hadn’t let out a small cough to interrupt your thoughts, you wouldn’t have realized that the cup in your hand was overflowing as you poured the water mindlessly.

He stayed there the rest of the day. Still sitting in that little booth just ordering a glass of water over and over again. And everytime you went over to ask if he’d like the check, he’d beg for a chance to talk again and again. Why was he desperately trying to fix things after two whole years? Did he know about.. No no he couldn’t.

Of course you were closing that night, which meant that you couldn’t escape Rafe as you locked up the diner for the night. You were tired of his attempts and just wanted to go home to your daughter.

“Just five minutes”, Rafe pleaded once again. “You know what no I’ll take two minutes of your time that’s all. Promise”.

“Listen I know I’m an idiot I know”, he started, And I left and I was stupid and it took me two years to realize”-

You stop him right there not willing to hear another word. “Yeah you were stupid. I don’t want your pity or your apologizes. It was two years ago Rafe, I’m sure we both moved on”. You start walking towards the nearest bus stop as Rafe follows close behind.

“Wait! Wait okay okay! I’m not asking for your forgiveness okay?.. I uh need a place to stay”, his words rush and overflow out of his mouth. He was desperate to get you to listen to him. Even if he had to lie about needing a place to stay.

His words stop you in your tracks. “A place to stay? I know you sold your place back at Tannyhill a while back but you don’t have… a rental house or something?”

“Not anymore… I sold it. And all the hotels are fully booked around here”.

Rafe knew it was a reach, and didn’t expect you to comply. If it wasn’t peak tourism season at the island you wouldn’t have believed him. “Fine. You can stay over at my house for a night”.

You were always sweet. Even to the man that abandoned you without a word. It’s just who you were. You could pretend to be cold and heartless in front of Rafe, but you both knew deep down that wasn’t who you were.

It’s a long and awkward bus ride, Rafe tries to speak every now and then but you quickly shut him down. He’s suddenly quiet once the two of you reach your place though. It’s… modest to say the least. Not in the best neighborhood either, but who was he t judge anyway. Being judgmental wasn’t going to get you back.

He notices how you have to practically kick open the door in order to get it unlocked. He also notices how small and cramped your place is. What does catch him off guard is the little girl running into your arms the minute you open the door.

“Mamaaaaaaaa!!!!!”, little Julie squeals as she toddles over to you and throws herself into your arms. Your friend who was babysitting her just chuckles at the little girl’s reaction and gets up from her spot on the couch.

“How has it been a year and a half already? She’s growing too fast”, your friend coos as you agree.

You quickly thank her for watching your Julie, hoping she won’t notice Rafe on her way out and by some miracle she doesn’t. But little Julie does as she giggles and waves to him from over your shoulder.

The door shutting from your friend’s exit is what forces Rafe out of his thoughts. That little girl in your arms was your daughter Was she his daughter too? He didn’t even need to ask, she had to be. With those eyes she had there was no doubt about it.

You don’t have to say anything to Rafe. The look you give him says it all.

[kiyawritesforf1]

AGAINST THE ODDS

PART 2

Pairing : Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader

Against the odds (Part 1)

Theo was safe at home with a sitter, and for once, she wasn’t exhausted. Dressed in a sleek black dress that hugged her figure, she sipped on her drink, letting the warmth of it spread through her. But even as she stood in the middle of it all, she felt apart from it. Like she didn’t quite belong anymore.

And then she saw him.

Lando Norris.

He was leaning against the bar, laughing at something Max Verstappen said, looking like he hadn’t changed at all in the past three years. Maybe a little older, maybe a little sharper around the edges, but still the same Lando who had once kissed her breathless under Monaco’s starlit sky. The same Lando who had promised her the world—only to walk away when things got too real.

Her heart clenched, but she forced herself to look away. She wouldn’t let him ruin this night.

But Lando had already seen her.

His laughter died mid-sentence, his hazel eyes locking onto her across the room. His expression shifted—shock, recognition, something unreadable in the way his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say her name but didn’t quite dare.

Y/N turned on her heel, heading toward the VIP section, determined to avoid him.

But she should have known better.

“Y/N.”

His voice stopped her in her tracks.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before exhaling sharply and turning around. “Lando.”

He was closer now, standing just a few feet away, looking at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. “I—I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, as if that made any difference.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “And if you had?”

His jaw tensed. “I would have still come.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course, you would have.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, until Lando finally broke it. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/N, please.” His voice was softer now, almost pleading. “Just five minutes.”

She hesitated. Every part of her screamed to walk away, to not give him even a second of her time. But there was a part of her that needed this—needed to hear what he had to say so she could finally put it behind her.

“Fine,” she said. “Five minutes.”

They moved to a quieter corner of the club, away from prying eyes. Lando ran a hand through his curls, exhaling heavily before he spoke. “I fucked up.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “No kidding.”

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you,” he said quickly. “Or because I didn’t care about Theo.”

She flinched at Theo’s name coming from his lips. “Don’t.”

Lando swallowed hard. “I was scared. I was twenty-five, my career was finally taking off, and suddenly, I was in love with a woman who had a kid. I didn’t know how to handle it. And instead of trying, I ran.”

“You didn’t just run, Lando,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “You abandoned us. You left without an explanation, without even a goodbye. You let a three-year-old boy wonder why the man he looked up to just disappeared.”

Regret flashed across his face. “I know. And I hate myself for it.”

She folded her arms. “Why are you telling me this now? What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I just… I saw you, and I realized that I still—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “Don’t say it.”

Lando blinked, taken aback.

She took a deep breath. “You don’t get to do this, Lando. You don’t get to walk back into my life and expect things to go back to the way they were.”

“I’m not expecting that,” he said quickly. “I just—God, Y/N, I miss you.”

She felt the sting of those words, but she didn’t let it show. “You miss me?” she repeated, tilting her head. “Do you miss Theo too? Do you even know what you did to him?”

His expression crumbled. “I think about him all the time.”

She clenched her jaw. “He doesn’t think about you.”

That was a lie. Theo had asked about Lando for months after he left, his little heart struggling to understand why someone he loved was suddenly gone. But she wouldn’t give Lando the satisfaction of knowing that.

Lando’s gaze dropped. “I deserve that.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Silence settled between them, heavier this time.

Finally, she sighed. “I used to think about this moment,” she admitted. “What I’d say if I ever saw you again. And now that I have, I realize I don’t care anymore.”

Lando’s head snapped up. “Y/N—”

“No,” she cut him off. “You hurt me. You hurt my son. And we moved on. We don’t need you, Lando.”

His eyes were filled with something that looked like desperation, but she didn’t let it affect her.

She took a step back. “This is closure, Lando. For me, at least. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for, but it’s not with us.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with nothing but his regret.

______

When Y/N got home from the party, she found Theo curled up on the couch with his favorite stuffed toy, his tiny brows furrowed in deep thought. He looked up as she walked in, his big, expressive eyes searching hers.

“Mommy,” he started, his voice unusually serious for a four-year-old. “Uncle Max called.”

Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh?” she asked cautiously, slipping off her heels.

Theo nodded. “He said you saw Lando.” His lips pressed into a pout, the same stubborn expression he’d worn the first time he refused to eat broccoli. “Why?”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. Damn Max and his big mouth. She should’ve known he’d say something.

“It was just a party, Theo,” she said gently, crouching to his level. “I didn’t know he’d be there.”

Theo crossed his arms, his little face set with determination. “Did he talk to you?”

Y/N hesitated. She could lie, but Theo was too smart for that. “Yes. But only for a little while.”

His frown deepened. “Did he say sorry?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He did.”

Theo stared at her for a moment, then huffed. “Too late.” He climbed onto the couch, turning his back to her with a stubborn little grunt. “I don’t like him, Mommy.”

Her chest ached as she sat beside him, brushing his curls back. “I know, baby.”

He leaned against her, small but full of so much understanding beyond his years. “You’re not sad, right?”

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Not anymore.”

Theo studied her face, then nodded, satisfied. “Good.” And just like that, he nestled into her side, trusting her completely, the only man in her life who truly mattered.

[thebumblebeesworld]

PAPA’S • HERE

part three • annie x smoke (ft. stack)

summary: striken with grief after losing his daughter, smoke runs away to chicago. what he doesn't know is that annie is pregnant with his second child, at home alone, grappling with the grief and joy all at once. she drafts letters that she doesn't send. she sends out prayers that she knows he won't hear. but one day as annie opens her back door, she sees smoke, stooped at the grave of their daughter.

cw: grief, death of child, hoodoo, use of the nword, mention of ptsd

a/n: we gotta take it back and see what smoke going through cause i’m bout ready to kill his black ass. i keep forgetting that i’ve only written about him being gone for three months so far. like how did he leave her for seven fucking years. i’m shortening the og significantly timeline cause i can’t take ittt. requested by @lizbehave

part one; part two; part four; part five.

masterlist

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month one • elijah’s perspective

“You good, nigga,” Stack asked his brother after they got on the train headed North to Chicago. Smoke didn’t talk much, but he’d been completely quiet since their argument earlier—when Elias told him that he needed to talk to Annie before disappearing on her, when Annie had heard the stupidity they were planning.

Elijah needed to get away.

He needed to remind himself that Smoke was still alive and well and that his grief was only temporary.

But that was a lie.

He had lost so much in his life. His mama, his daddy, his childhood, himself. He had experienced some of the worst kinds of pain there were, and not all of them were physical. For Elijah, he’d gotten used to people coming and going, only leaving after hurting him so bad that his mind was left completely changed. The only constants he had were his brother and his wife—his two hearts.

When their baby was born, it was like Smoke had completely wafted off of him and was replaced with who Elijah was always meant to be. He had a job to do and a little life to look after that he promised to never do wrong like his father had done him. He promised to be present, to spend every waking moment with her, to have her sleep beside he and his wife in their rest.

He was lighter, having seen the light at the end of the tunnel and the greenest of grasses. With his two girls by his side, Elijah realized that he didn’t have to be that hardened man anymore.

He could float through life with love and family and freedom to keep him lifted.

When the baby started to get sick, Elijah persevered. He was unworried. He trusted that she’d get better and that he could make a way for his family.

But he and Annie couldn’t afford all the medication her little body needed. With time, she got sicker and sicker.

Then came the cold snap.

That winter was brutal—one of the worst in Mississippi’s history, and their house was frigid. The wood oven was working into overtime. That and the love they all shared wasn’t enough to keep their baby girl safe and warm anymore; And just as the weather began to get barely tolerable outside, she died suddenly in her sleep—in her papa’s arms.

“Papa’s here,” he cried, stroking the tufts of her brown hair, trying to stay strong for her even in her death. He had promised to be by her side always, but what was he to do now that she was gone? “An-Annie,” he hiccuped, falling to his knees with their baby tucked into his chest.

As he held her still body, he felt a part of Elijah die. It was like part of his soul was yanked out of his body and was buried right into the ground with his baby.

“ ‘Lijah,” Annie’s voice trembled as she watched him break down, holding tightly onto their daughter’s little frame. He saw through tear-coated eyelashes how she collapsed onto her knees in front of him in disbelief. Her face was greying as the realization sunk in, and he realized there that a part of his wife had died too. A part of their love had died. The home was cold and desolate. Nothing but their sobs and aching heartbeats could be heard as they looked to each other for help.

Help wouldn’t come.

The veins in his neck bulged as he pushed his grief so far down that it looked like he was close to exploding. Sweat prickled his skin even in the achingly cold room. Tears ran down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to contain them.

Who was he now that part of his soul had been ripped away?

“Aye, Smoke!” Elias hit his shoulder, noticing the way his brother was falling victim to his mind again. He recognized the pain in his distant eyes, and he did everything to pull him back out. “Listen to me, Smoke,” he shook his brother in a frenzy. “I’m right here. It’s Stack. Elijah!”

Coming to at the sound of his birth-given name, Smoke pushed his brother back with a heavy hand on his shoulder. He stood up, towering over him as Stack had been pushed back into his seat. He cowered under his brother’s gaze.

“Don’t call me that name again, boy.”

Smoke’s voice quivered in ache, the remnants of his distant memories still permeating his body. Even despite that, his tone still carried that heft that it normally did. Elias trembled under him, always afraid of Smoke when he was in a mood like this. “I don’t ever wanna hear that name again.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

month two • elijah’s perspective

Chicago wasn’t nothing special, but it would have to do until Smoke was ready to return home.

The grief that he tried to bury—along with his memories and the sound of his name—still haunted him. Just about every night he’d cry and wail into his pillow, thinking about his baby girl.

Thinking about Annie.

He was so upset with himself for how much of a coward he had been. He left her after almost deciding not to tell her at all. He left her alone with all those memories and ghosts in that quiet li’l house.

He left.

He never thought he’d be a man that would allow faintheartedness rule his decisions. He had run away from his grief and trauma in a faulty attempt to put his entire past behind him, and now he was too scared to go back.

His hands shuddered as he wrote her name shakily on the heading of the paper—Dear Annie. His fist fought against the pen as he tried to gain control of his movements. The paper tore from his heavy pressure on the frail page.

This is how it was every time he tried to write home. He had it in his mind to apologize to Annie for his leaving, for lying, for shutting down when their daughter died, for making her do it all by herself on top of taking care of him and everyone around her. Every time he tried, his haywire mind from war kicked in, and his body was sent into a litany of shaking and fighting against itself.

He had the words. He just couldn’t push through the haze to put them on paper.

“If you wait any longer to send a letter,” Stack strode over to his brother, holding out a freshly rolled cig, “Annie might just send the calvary to kill yo’ ass. You know she be workin’ that root.” Stack belly-laughed, but he was dead serious.

Just about every day he watched as his brother struggled with his mind to write Annie a letter. All his life, he had seen Smoke conquer some of the greatest challenges and put an end to some of the toughest men. But this was the first thing he ever witnessed his brother be unable to overcome.

Even when Elias was rolling Smoke’s cigarettes, he never pitied his brother for what he couldn’t do.

But as he watched him take in a shaky breath on the cigarette, he saw him as a shell of the man he once was. The grief had carved a gaping hole in the side of his chest, leaving him open, guts on full display to the world.

Even though Smoke had his brother beside him, he really just craved Annie, their home, and their baby girl.

But one of those three things didn’t exist anymore, and the other two were forever changed in his eyes.

He wanted to go back, but not yet. He promised her two months, but he just couldn’t.

“If she do, then I deserve it,” Smoke broke, ashing the cigarette on the now torn pieces of his letter. “I ain’t ever been enough for her, Stack. I always fuck shit up.” He folded in on himself, tucking his head down to shield that wave of emotion from hitting him too hard.

“Don’t say that,” Elias rebuked. He shook his head at his twin’s assertion. “You are Smoke Moore. You are a great man, and Annie knows that. She ain’t never seen you as less than the man you are. And you been good to her.”

“Leavin’ ain’t no good,” Smoke shouted—more so at himself than his twin. “I’m the reason why the both of us is grievin’ apart. Me.” He beat on his chest as he emphasized that the blame was solely on himself. “She ain’t want this. And you ain’t make me come. I did this. And while I got you, she ain’t got nobody. And I know that, and I’m still too scared to go back.” Smoke crumbled after finally admitting to his brother his fear. He never let anyone see him scared—had never even addressed the possibility of Smoke Moore and fearful being synonymous—but he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. “I’m not ready to go back, Stack.”

His twin didn’t know what to do. Neither of them were comfortable with emotions. Even though Elias was the more lively of the two, he used his personality to shield him from his own raw heart. Seeing his brother—his other half—doubled over in pain hit him so viscerally.

“We-we gon’ get you right, nigga,” Stack guaranteed, staring wide-eyed as tears fell down Smoke’s face, nestling into his overgrown beard. “I’m gon’ make sure you get back home a better man than when you left.”

His brother’s assurance should have eased him, but as much as he wanted it to be true—that he could be better—Smoke couldn’t see how even one more month away could aid his weeping heart.

Everything felt impossible, but Smoke did his best to kept in his mind the thought of Annie. If he had anything keeping him on a straight and narrow path, it was her.

He just had to be right and whole for her before returning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

i reached max on the number of blogs i can tag so i’ll just comment i guessss

[omgfangirlland]

How do you think it would go if let's say.. Before joker became a joker.. He had a wife and that wife is reader. She was always there for joker until joker just ghosted her or something when he started to go crazy. Later on, reader meets Bruce and they somehow fall in love (reader has that Mary Sue rizz).

-🔱

Sorry I haven't posted a drabble in a hot minute-

Fallout 3 is an addictive thing, and I should have known better than to believe the father would stay alive, considering I finished Fallout 4 a year ago...

ANYWAY- bit of timeline shenanigans cuz I'm like 90% sure Jack falling into the vat of acid happened long before Dick Grayson, but for my plot it's during-

CW: yandere/stalker bruce

You knew something was wrong as soon as Jack didn't come home. Sure, sometimes he'd be late, but you'd always wake up with the man suffocating you with the clingy way he'd wrap his arms around you, holding you so tight- like he was afraid to lose you.

That was eight years ago. One year ago, Jack Nappier was declared dead, and you were left a widow with an empty grave to mourn over. The police, eight years ago, didn't even want to believe you, just brushed it off as the man being drunk in a ditch- not unlike the other married men in Park Row.

But you knew your Jack. So you fought on it, you fought until someone would listen, and Gordon did- promised you up and down that he'll do everything to find your husband- and then, a month in, he... changed. The man looked guilty as he told you he didn't have any updates, and before you could ask anything further, he scurried away.

You never trusted the police, no one living in Crime Alley does. Gordon was the nail in the coffin that sealed that belief forever.

They would have declared him dead on day one if they could have, but they had to wait seven years, and with those seven years up, the papers were drawn and signed, and Gordon paid for the funeral before anyone else could, before Bruce could.

You hated it.

And your Jack would have hated it too. He wanted to be cremated, his ashes to be turned into "one of them fake sparkly stones" so you could always have a piece of him.

You had to move on with your life, whether Jack left you and ran away with someone else or is actually dead, both were painful options. You got your degree one year after his disappearance and started teaching a few months later.

You... don't know what possessed you to do this- to jump from your window, on the fucking Batman of all people, just so Jason, a kid you've known since he was five, could run away before the bat started swinging.

Yeah, it didn't work out the way you hoped.

"You jumped out from the third-"

"Second."

Batman's eye twitches as he takes in a breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as you sit where he plopped you, the hood of the batmobile. "-Second. Floor, on my back, just because you thought I would hit a child?" Bruce ignored how Jason kept swinging the tire iron at his padded knee.

"... Yeah..." You shrugged. Jason gave up after two more swings, huffing and whining with exhaustion. "What even are you?!"

"Is he your kid?"

While the question made you stumble over your words, Jason was quick to yell a yes- and he wasn't lying in his mind, you were more of a mother than his ever was. "Don't you dare touch her- you- you- big b-"

As Jason tried to swing again, this time aiming for the bat's balls, Bruce was quick in grabbing the tire iron from the boy. "Aww..." Jason pouted.

Bruce knew the boy wasn't your son. He knew, because for eight years or so, he's been your shadow, not your stalker, shadow. There was a difference- he was protecting you, making up for what he's done to your ex-husband.

He may have slipped a few times, loomed too close, slipped into your room as you slept- just to make sure you're still breathing! And, well, if he took a thing or two, he always returned them- he tried to, anyway.

This was fine- not the part of you jumping so recklessly out of a window- but the opportunity of actually talking to you. It wasn't for long, but he was willing to play the long game.

It was fruitful, slow, but it got him what he wanted.

It started with Jason, initially he wanted to just send the boy to a troubled youth school, but seeing how close he was to you, and how dedicated he was, Bruce may have manipulated him a bit.

"You do want to keep her safe, right? You can't do that without training."

Jason was the one who took it as him being the next Robin, and Bruce didn't correct him, and when the time came, he sure as hell didn't stop him from modifying the costume to his liking. The boy deserves it after helping Bruce so much with you.

"Batman's really nice, could be a really cool boyfriend-"

It was childish, but you couldn't help but smile at Jason trying to play matchmaker. You knew he was the new Robin, it was hard not to when the first thing he did was crawl like a wet cat through your window to proudly show his costume off while acting like he didn't know you.

Granted, it worked.

Bruce first kissed you while he was bleeding on your couch, Jason napping away on your bed, that's also when you found out who Batman was.

"I want you to know. I want you to be in my life, every side of it."

He had whispered, and you just kissed him again. The next day, Bruce Wayne took you out on a date, by next week every tabloid had you two on the front page, and by next year, you were living in the Manor, nagging Dick and Jason to not leave everything to Alfred, and helping him every night with soft kisses and softer hands.

He wasn't scared you'd find out. He made sure you wouldn't. But if you did, that would be okay. Bruce won't let you go, no matter how hard you fight.

When Joker came back after being missing for two years, creating a ruckus left and right, Bruce made sure to play his cards right- first, the soft, off-hand comment that you should just stay home, work remotely, or just not at all. The chains were placed.

Then, bringing a worried Richard into it. "I just don't want to lose you like- like-" And the tearful face of Dick locked the chains. But what tightened them was Jason's whispered plea. "Please, ma, any one of our enemies could snatch you on the way home- I don't want to see you hurt like that."

But Bruce should have been more focused on Joker. He let him slip through the cracks, led the clown right to you with every loving outing, with every tabloid picture.

Jack won't have it. You were his before- you'll love him as Joker too.

[meadowfics]

movie setting

thanos x f!exactress!reader

you run into your ex boyfriend during the squid games

warnings: death (not thanos, its his bestie instead sorry), some changes in the original plot, angst, reader is a blacklisted actress, one use of "bro" towards reader, even though reader is intended to be female.

you were once one of the most promising actresses in korea, starring in a hit drama that still lingers in people's hearts.

your career was supposed to skyrocket, but a scandal ruined everything.

the scandal wasn’t even your fault. the media twisted the story, painting you as the villain.

companies cut ties, contracts were ripped apart, and soon, you found yourself blacklisted from the industry.

millions of won in debt piled up before you could recover.

with no way to earn money, since you did not need to go to college because of your acting career..your world crumbled around you.

to make things worse, you and your longtime boyfriend, thanos, broke up right before everything went to hell.

you loved him.

maybe you still do.

however, you couldn’t drag him down with you, not when his rap career was still holding on by a thread.

he wanted to fight for you, but you wouldn’t let him.

“i’m not going to be the reason you sink too.”

after that, you disappeared from his life.

thano's drug addiction got worse when you left, but that is something that you did not know about until later.

just three months after suffering, you sat at the subway station after missing the last train of the night.

someone finds you..

the salesman.

he offers you the game. an escape. a chance at redemption.

you hesitate, but when you see the money, you know you don’t have a choice.

that’s how you end up on the colorful, dystopian stairs, walking toward your first game just five days later...

you don’t see thanos first. he sees you.

his breath catches when he spots you a few steps below, dressed in the same green tracksuit, looking just as lost and desperate as the rest.

he almost doesn’t believe it.

his ex, the woman he once held at night, the woman he let go of but never truly moved on from, is here.

“no fucking way,” he mutters under his breath, eyes burning into your back.

you feel it...

the weight of someone staring

when you finally turn, your stomach drops.

thanos.

your ex-boyfriend, the man you broke your own heart over, is right there running up the stairs towards you.

for a second, you do not move, holding up the line.

when he comes closer, you turn away, gripping the railing tightly as you climb the stairs faster.

he’s not stupid. he knows you’re avoiding him.

outside on the field..people notice you.

“wait… is that—?”

“holy shit, it’s her! from (drama series)!”

players start murmuring, pointing, whispering excitedly.

some of them grew up watching you on tv, still nostalgic over your most famous role.

“i can’t believe it! i had the biggest crush on her when i was younger!”

you try to ignore the attention, but it’s hard when people are outright gawking at you.

some are obsessed, borderline unsettling.

“you’re even prettier in person…”

you feel their stares, their fascination.

it makes your skin crawl.

thanos notices too.

his jaw clenches as people circle around you like vultures, bombarding you with questions.

usually, this is outside of his personality quirks.

however, he does not like people messing with his girl.

“so, is the scandal real?”

“did you really do it?”

you keep your head down.

you don’t owe them an answer.

thanos watches, expression unreadable as he stands next to namgyu.

he doesn’t step in. not yet.

when the first gunshot goes off, everything changes.

you’re frozen in place, watching blood splatter as bodies drop like flies.

people scream, run, beg for help, but it’s useless.

panic surges inside you, but you force yourself to keep it together.

“green light.”

you move.

you don’t think, don’t breathe,

just follow the rules and survive.

somewhere behind you, thanos does the same.

he sees you up ahead, your body tense, hands trembling at your sides.

he wants to call your name. tell you to focus.

he doesn’t.

he keeps jumping around like a joke..

its the drugs.

he kind of has a feeling that you will be fine.

thanos watches you as he jumps around in joy, pushing people down as if their lives wouldn't be taken too.

“red light.”

after surviving the massacre, you’re still shaken.

everyone is.

you sit in a corner of the room, trying to calm your breathing, when a shadow falls over you.

you don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“señorita,” thanos says, voice lower than you remember.

“you’re really here.”

you keep your eyes on the ground.

“leave me alone.”

he scoffs.

“yeah? and how’s that been working out for you?”

you don’t answer.

“you should’ve told me,”

he mutters after a beat.

“it’s not like that,” you whisper.

he tilts his head.

“really? really bro? ‘cause it sure seems like you wanna be near me again.”

he’s smug. a little too smug.

his ego inflates when you don’t deny it.

you glare at him.

“i’d rather be near you than anyone else in this fucking place, su-bong.”

thano's smirk fades slightly.

nam gyu watches the whole thing unfold.

he sees the way you and thanos look at each other..

the tension, the unfinished business.

it makes him sick.

“you two have history,” nam gyu states one night, arms crossed.

you shrug.

“so?”

“so,” he huffs,

“it’s fucking annoying.”

you raise a brow.

“why do you care?”

he doesn’t answer.

thanos, overhearing, just smirks.

“someone jealous?”

nam gyu scowls.

“shut up.”

despite your best efforts, you start gravitating toward your ex again.

you tell yourself it’s survival.

safety.

being where you are most familiar with..

deep down, you know it’s more than that.

every time you look at him, you remember what it felt like to love him.

you also remember why you left.

he notices the way you linger near him, even if you don’t say much.

“you’re not good at pretending for an actress señorita,” he says one night.

you glance at him.

“pretending what?”

“that you don’t want me back.”

your throat tightens.

you shake your head.

“it’s not like that.”

“sure,” he mutters. but he doesn’t look convinced.

the games are brutal. relentless.

you don’t know if you’ll make it out alive.

one thing is clear:

no matter how much you try to fight it, thanos is a part of you.

and in a place like this, maybe he’s the only thing keeping you sane.

when all of the men went to the bathroom, the dorms were eerily quiet. until the sound of chaos started coming from outside the doors. sounds of metal banding, fists colliding with flesh, grunts of pain, bodies slamming against the walls.

it was impossible to ignore. every player still in the dorm room heard it, heads turning toward the source of the violence, but no one dared to move.

you sat on your bed, your hands clenched into fists against your lap. your whole body was tense, your mind racing.

thanos was in there. so was nam-gyu. you didn’t know what the fights were about, but you knew it wasn’t good.

honestly, you would not have been surprised if your out-of-pocket ex started it all with his bestfriend.

se-mi sat beside you, watching the entrance anxiously. the minutes stretched on like hours, and with every second that passed, the pit in your stomach grew deeper.

one by one, men began filtering back into the dorms, beaten and bloodied. some limped, some had swollen faces, and some had fresh bruises forming under their eyes.

you scanned every face, searching for him.

no thanos.

you exhaled sharply, fingers tightening around the fabric of your pants. se-mi shifted beside you, glancing over with hesitation before asking,

"do you still love thanos?"

the question caught you off guard. your head snapped toward her, eyes wide in panic.

"do i love thanos?" you repeated, almost scoffing. then, without thinking, you blurted out, "no shit, se-mi!"

se-mi flinched at your sharp tone, and the realization hit you instantly. your expression softened as guilt settled in your chest.

"i'm sorry," you muttered, shaking your head.

"that was mean, you're one of my friends here and I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I'm just stressed."

se-mi shrugged, offering a small, dismissive smile.

"it's fine." she glanced toward the entrance again before sighing.

"i wouldn’t care if something happened to nam-gyu though."

you huffed a quiet, amused breath.

despite the tension, you silently agreed.

then, finally, movement at the entrance.

your breath caught when you saw him...thanos, limping back into the dorms, looking bruised but very much alive.

"su-bong," you breathed, already on your feet before you could process it.

you didn’t care who was watching. didn’t care about the whispers, the eyes on you.

you ran straight to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his body, holding onto him like he might disappear if you let go.

the rapper's arms came around you just as fast, his grip firm, as if reassuring himself that you were real.

somewhere in the distance, you heard someone murmur, "that actress and the rapper are dating?" but it didn’t matter.

you buried your face against his shoulder, inhaling his scent, letting yourself feel the relief washing over you.

he is okay.

thanos pulled back slightly, just enough to press a lingering, warm kiss to your forehead.

you closed your eyes, savoring it.

"see," he mumbled against your forehead, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper, something more tender.

"i know you wanted me back, baby."

you giggled, shaking your head.

"shut up and go sit down."

you slipped an arm under his to help him walk back to the beds, your focus entirely on him...so much so that you didn’t process the absence of a certain someone.

not until the speakers crackled to life, and the robotic voice echoed through the dorms:

"player 124, eliminated."

silence fell over the room.

your body stiffened.

nam-gyu never came back with thanos.

masterlist

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

epilogue

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: pregnancy

series masterlist │my masterlist

every day since you found out you were pregnant, you’ve found logan in what used to be an unused office. it’s the room closest to yours, just across the hall, and where your daughter will stay until she’s old enough to sleep through the night, to be further from logan and yourself. you plan to redo the guest room to her tastes eventually, but first you need to get through the early months with her.

logan refuses to allow her first bedroom to be anything less than perfect, though you’ve told him time and time again that she won’t remember it. you think it might be his way of getting rid of the anxious energy that courses through him, the worry that he won’t be a good enough father, that he’ll hurt her somehow. he’s good at building, at working with his hands. he may not know how to be a father, but he can do this for her.

he goes out to the hardware store and returns with materials for custom shelves and a dresser, never mind the fact that he could go to any furniture store and buy premade sets, already measured and cut, ready to be assembled. he paints the walls a pastel yellow, meticulous and careful. the colour looks strange surrounding him, though not in a negative way, a man who surrounds himself in dark shades standing in a room of bright colours.

your big, tough husband, reduced to putty by his unborn daughter.

you’ve been watching him day after day, your new favourite way to pass the time, enjoying the flex of his muscles as he works. you’re only five months along, there’s plenty of time, but logan acts as though every day that passes without the house being completely ready for the new addition to your family is a travesty of the highest order, a crime against him personally.

you mock him for it, but his dramatics are awfully endearing. he cares so much, occasionally so overcome by feelings that he doesn’t know how to express them. the animal in him comes out more during such moments, when he’s overwhelmed with it.

he’s more protective now, something you’d previously never thought possible, and clingier too. he says your scent is different, says there’s a second scent mixed into your own that must be your daughter’s, the beginnings of her own person manifesting painfully slow and yet much too fast.

you feel her growing and changing inside you, the strangest sensation and yet one that never fails to take your breath away. you spend nights with your hand pressed to your stomach, not convinced that she’s real, worried that your bump might disappear if you let go for a second too long, a dream lost to the winds, merely a reach away and yet impossible to touch.

you watch logan’s large arms move with every stroke of the paintbrush, muscles flexing in his arms and shoulders and back, and without realising it you find yourself at his side, a hand reaching out to trace over the lines of his body. he acknowledges your presence with a kiss to the top of your head but nothing more, refusing to allow his concentration to be broken. it’s a testament to his devotion to his daughter, as he would usually drop anything if it meant getting to hold you in his arms.

“do you think she’ll be like you?” you ask, a thought that’s fluttered through your mind briefly but never stuck around for long, always distracted by something or another.

“you mean a mutant?” logan clarifies, his movements faltering. it’s still not something he adores about himself, not the way you do, though he no longer wakes up every morning drowning in an ocean of self-hatred and despair. it’s become something to accept, a part of him that he cannot change, and therefore something that there is no point in fighting.

there is no reason to ponder on what ifs when it is an impossibility. so with your love and reassurance, he’s found a middle-ground, a peace where he can allow his instincts to be free and yet doesn’t feel confined on the days where he does feel more man than animal.

“yes,” you agree, “i mean a mutant.”

he sighs, a sound that gets caught in his throat, grip tightening around the handle of the paintbrush. your fingertips prod at his hand, poking at his tight grip until he lets go just enough for you to pry it from his hold, placing it down on an old newspaper he’d left on the floor to protect the wood.

“be honest with me,” you say, “i just want the truth.”

it’s a game you play sometimes, a system you’ve created from your deep knowledge of logan’s thought process, to use when logan feels something that he worries isn’t right to say, that he worries you’ll dislike. you’ve had to teach him that his feelings are valid, that there is nothing wrong with them one way or another, that his thoughts are a product of his lifetimes. it doesn’t mean you’ll agree, but you’ll always listen.

“i don’t want her to be like me,” logan admits at last. you’d expected the words, the sentiment, but it still stabs you in the chest, a knife he doesn’t know he’s wielding. “she deserves to be normal, like you. i don’t want her going through anything i have.

“but she’ll have us,” you remind him, “she’ll have you to teach her that it’s okay to exhibit these behaviours, although there’s a time and place for them as there is for all things, that she can be herself and there’s nothing wrong with that. and she’ll have both of us here to make sure no one can try to take her away, to hurt her the way they hurt you.”

he shrugs, doesn’t give you a verbal response, but he holds eye contact with you for what feels like days before eventually nodding once. it’s the best you’re going to get from him now, but you have four more months to talk about it, and perhaps years until you discover if your daughter truly is a mutant - since logan had confided that his mutation had developed in his early childhood, not at birth as some others do.

you kiss him, hopeful that he can read your thoughts and feelings on the curve of your lips, feel the love you hold for him in the way your hands press to his back, wanting him as close to you as possible. 

“i’m going to make us lunch,” you say, glancing outside at the mid-afternoon sun and the pale blue sky free of clouds. you’re already coming up with ways to pull logan away from his work, promises to whisper in his ear, smiling as your hands linger on his body. “i think baby wants to take advantage of the sunny weather.”

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [01]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston to after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming? Warnings: None. wc: 1798

Chapter 1: So long, London

It’d been a week since I landed back in Boston, but with everything going on. Work had dragged me from one meeting to the next, and even when I wasn’t working, there was the whole “catching up on lost time” thing that somehow meant more emails and calls.

Now, finally, I was here—in Noah’s apartment, the one place that still felt like home, even though we were both grown men fumbling through adulthood. 

Noah was a long-time friend, we met in middle school, at the age of twelve. My family had known him for a just about the same amount of time. He is basically family to me and my brothers. 

I tossed my bag onto the couch and sank in, letting the familiar scent of his place hit me—the mix of old leather, coffee, and whatever cologne Noah used that was too subtle to really identify.

Noah’s eyes immediately landed on me like he could see the exhaustion in my posture. “You look like you’ve been run over.”

“Feels about right,” I said, taking the water he handed me. “L.A. was brutal. Shoot after shoot, executives breathing down my neck. I’m glad it’s over.”

He laughed. “Rich people problems.”

“Shut up.” I smiled, but my mind was still tangled up in all the chaos I’d left behind.

We talked about his law school schedule, the fact that he was leaving for his final year at the end of the month. I admired him—he’d been grinding away at that degree while I was chasing cameras and deadlines. Two different paths, same stubbornness.

Then the knock came. 

I glanced at Noah, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

He got up, stretching casually as if no one was expected. “Right, I forgot to mention—my sister’s back.”

Noah’s little sister.

The last time I saw her was just before she left at eighteen. What I remember—though it’s hazy—is a quiet, painfully shy girl who always seemed wrapped up in her own little world. She rarely left her room and was almost always clutching that camera of hers like it was a lifeline. Being younger than us, she kept to herself, lost in her own bubble, while the rest of us moved on.

I was just realizing I actually didn’t know much about her. 

Noah moved to open the door, still acting casual like this was nothing new.

Then the door swung wide, she walked in. 

Daphne Denoire.

She looked different, really different. 

She looked put together—clean and polished, with a soft pink tone to her outfit that made her look both feminine and effortlessly stylish. It was obvious she had an aesthetic now, something carefully curated, far from the quiet girl who used to hide behind oversized clothes.

Still about five feet tall, but she carried herself differently—more sure, more deliberate.

It hit me all at once how much she’d changed.

She looked at me, brows knitting for a second in hesitation. “Matt?” she asked, voice soft with a hint of confusion.

I chuckled, a slow grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Did you forget me already?”

She let out a quiet laugh. “I was trying to figure out if it was you, Nick, or Chris. Hard to remember after a while.”

I shook my head, still trying to wrap my head around how different she looked—and sounded.

“Glad I made the cut,” I said, trying to sound casual even though her presence was anything but.

Daphne disappeared down the hallway, probably heading to her room.

I watched her go for a second longer than I meant to, then turned back to Noah, still trying to piece it all together.

“She looks… different,” I said finally, leaning back against the couch. “Not at all how I remember her.”

Noah cracked open a soda, barely glancing up. “Yeah. It’s been three years, man. She’s not a teenager anymore.”

“No, I know that. It’s just…” I paused, still surprised. “She’s got a whole look now. All posh. Not the oversized sweats and hoodies I remember, and no glasses.”

Noah smirked. “Yeah, she ditched those in college. Got contacts.”

I nodded slowly, still thinking about the girl I remembered and the woman who just walked out of the room. “Still quiet though.”

I let out a low whistle, more to myself. “London changed her.”

Noah let out a breath, nodding. “Yeah...especially during her last year of high school. She barely spoke to anyone back then.”

I glanced toward the hallway where she’d disappeared. “Why?”

He hesitated, then said quietly, “She was going through a lot. Never really talked about it much. Just kept to herself.”

There was something in his tone that told me not to push. Something protective.

I leaned back, letting the silence settle between us, but the curiosity was already

“Always will be,” Noah said with a shrug. “But she’s not the same kid anymore.”

I leaned back, still thinking about the girl who used to avoid the living room like it was cursed. “No. She’s not.”

DAPHNE 

When I walked into my home, the last thing I expected was to see Matthew Sturniolo sitting there—looking even more handsome than I remembered. Effortless, calm, like he belonged in every room without trying.

I’d kept up with him on social media. Of course, I had. I knew what he looked like—knew the tattoos, the styled hair, the casual grins he wore in magazine shoots and brand campaigns. However, seeing him online and seeing him here, just a few feet away, were two completely different things.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a small crush on Matt growing up. The kind of silly, girlish crush that bloomed quietly—never spoken out loud, never really meant to be anything more.

He was always around—teasing Noah, raiding our fridge, or lounging on our couch like he owned the place. His family came from old money, filthy rich in that effortless way that made everything seem just within reach and totally untouchable. One of his brothers, Chris, had taken over their massive estate a few years back, sealing in that legacy.

He was five years older, just like my brother. Untouchable in that older-guy kind of way—cool, confident, with a lazy laugh that made everyone stop and listen. He never had to try; he just was.

For a long time, that was enough to make my stomach twist in that naive, girlish way I’d never admit out loud.

But that was years ago.

We were both adults now.

Seeing him now—really seeing him—made something shift. Not in the way that childhood crushes do, but in a slower, heavier way. 

My silly crush on Matt was long gone.

I had grown up, lived a whole different life in a different country. I’d seen more of the world, done new things, and experienced things on my own. 

I had to leave Boston.

Not just because I wanted to—but because staying meant facing things I wasn’t ready to confront. Things that happened in the silence, shadows I couldn’t shake.

There were things I couldn’t say aloud, wounds that didn’t heal with time, and a silence I carried like a weight too heavy to put down.

Leaving was my only escape—a way to disappear, to find some kind of peace away from everything I knew.

By the time Matt left, the house had quieted down.

Noah and I ended up in the kitchen—he rummaging through the fridge, and I leaned against the counter, sipping water and trying to settle into the silence.

He finally gave up and leaned on the opposite counter, eyeing me. 

“So,” he said casually, “you really happy to be back in Boston?”

I paused, eyes flicking toward the window like the answer might be out there somewhere.

“I don’t know yet,” I said honestly. “It feels…weird. Familiar but not the same.”

He nodded slowly, like he understood more than he let on, “Yeah. A lot’s changed.”

I just nodded, keeping my eyes on the counter.

There was a pause. Then Noah said quietly, like it had been sitting on his chest the whole time, “He’s still in jail, Daph. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

“Yeah…” I murmured. “I know.”

Another beat passed before I added, a little too flatly, “It’s whatever.”

“Just live, okay?” he said, looking at me, voice softer. “Especially since I’m leaving soon.”

Noah had one more year of law school. He’d be gone most of the time, probably only coming back once a month—if that.

“The apartment is basically yours when I’m gone,” he added. “Make use of your time.”

I gave a small smile, trying to meet the hope in his eyes. “Well…I’m job hunting, so…hopefully I’ll be occupied.”

He nodded, satisfied enough with that answer. 

A weird pause lingered between us.

Noah and I never really talked about what happened. He avoided the subject, always did. I knew he carried it with him, like somehow, it was his fault. That night changed both of us, just in different ways.

It was his party. His classmate. 

My room. 

He was my older brother. After our parents died in a car accident, Noah basically became my guardian. He was only seventeen at the time—just a kid himself—but he stepped up.

He did everything he could to fill the space they left behind, and I was only twelve, too young to understand the weight he was carrying.

So even if we weren’t the best at communicating, even if he didn’t always know how to be there when I needed him, I respected him, and I trusted him.

He was all I had.  

Leaving for London was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. When I first applied to colleges, I never imagined I’d end up that far from home. It wasn’t the plan—not when money was tight and we weren’t exactly swimming in extra funds.

However, I convinced Noah. I told him I’d work while I studied, that I’d take care of myself. Which I did. I balanced part-time jobs, early mornings, late nights, and the ache of missing home.

By the time I graduated, I had nearly $50,000 in student debt hanging over me like a shadow. My goal is to finish paying it off in the next few years. 

 I don’t regret it, though. London gave me space—space to find myself again after everything. Space to breathe, to grow. I met new people there through my interests. 

Coming back to Boston wasn’t easy. It felt like picking up an old life that no longer quite fit. Boston reminds me of a time I don’t want to remember. 

Looking for a job was the goal now. While Noah was away, I would try to steady myself.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS NOW!

[a/n: I'm nervous for this series, I must not lie. I have good plans for this series, though. Like and reblog! mwah] –ceyana

Tags: @oopsiedaisydeer @ribbonlovergirl @pip4444chris @mattsfrenchtoast @lm-a-mirrorball @cholejhunter @urlocallera @kingofeverythingmb @idkwhatimdoinghereeeeeee @malox12 @sturnslux3 @carrielovesmatt @vanillakissesxx @sagesturns @enviedparty101 @kiarasmaybank @mattscore @fmg05 @ed1tssturnn @kenah-sturniolo @tropicfessed

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[fandomfablesunleashed]

Awkward Confessions

Ace x reader (she/her)

Reader is kinda dense and loves to read

Modern AU, High school setting.

Summary: Ace, with the help of Luffy and Sabo, tries to confess his feelings to the girl he likes. He's doing his best, but somehow all his plans turn into awkward failures.

Words: 3.7k

Notes: Written for the Valentine’s Week event. Originally, I didn’t have this story for Valentine’s Day, but I had four stories and really wanted to make it five. So I turned to one of my favorite boys—Ace. I wanted to write him trying to ask you out, but like… accidentally burning flowers and having other things go wrong. I got stuck with some bad writer’s block, and the words just weren’t coming out. But then I remembered that I had written something like this before, so I went through my many files and found it. I wrote this maybe two years ago, maybe even more, so it needed a lot of editing (which means I might be getting better at writing, so yay me!). Probably needed even more, but oops. I changed a few things to fit the Valentine’s vibe, and here it is!

🫶 @captainportgasdace 🫶

English is not my first language

Masterlist

“Let's finally help Ace with his crush!” Luffy blurted out, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “He's practically dying here, trying to get this girl to notice him! We can’t just stand around—we need a plan!”

Ace groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, his freckled face tinged with a light shade of red. “I never said I needed help,” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah. And yet, you’ve been pining over her for months now,” Sabo said, giving Ace a playful nudge. “Valentine’s Day is coming, man. If you don’t make a move now, someone else might.”

Ace’s stomach twisted at the thought. He swallowed hard and glanced down. “Alright, where do we even start?”

Sabo tapped his chin thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. “A good old-fashioned bouquet of flowers. Girls love that kind of thing.”

Luffy scrunched his nose. “Flowers? That’s so boring! Why not something cooler—like, I don’t know, a giant meat platter?”

Sabo sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. “Not everyone thinks with their stomach, Luffy. Flowers are classic for a reason. They’re romantic.”

Ace shifted uncomfortably. “But… what if she doesn’t like flowers?”

Sabo rolled his eyes. “Don’t all girls like flowers?”

“What if she’s allergic?” Ace countered.

Sabo chuckled. “Now you’re just making excuses. Trust me, she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

Luffy, ever impatient, clenched his fists with determination. “Then let’s stop wasting time and go get some flowers already!”

Ace, clutching the small bouquet of flowers, hesitated for a moment before approaching you in the crowded hallway. His heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady his nerves.

Summoning his courage, he called out your name, stepping forward with an uncertain smile and offering the bouquet with a mix of anticipation and fear. His face burned with a deep flush, his fingers gripping the stems so tightly they nearly bent.

You glanced at the flowers, your expression flickering between confusion and appreciation. “Why?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Ace opened his mouth, but panic seized him, his mind going utterly blank. 

Just then, a girl walked by carrying a similar bouquet. “Oh, are you guys giving flowers to all the girls?” you asked with a teasing lilt.

Desperate to salvage the moment, Ace blurted out, “Yeah, that’s it.” His voice cracked slightly, but he forced a grin, hoping you wouldn’t see through the lie.

“Oh! How sweet, thanks.” With that, you gently took the bouquet from his hands and turned away, disappearing into the hallway.

Ace watched helplessly as you walked off, completely oblivious to what he had truly meant. Soon his brothers joined his side.

“That didn’t go how we planned.” Luffy pouted.

Sabo sighed, patting Ace’s shoulder. “Looks like we need a Plan B.”

Ace exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the crushing weight of failure. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Not without a real chance to say what he truly felt.

“Hey, at least you tried, right? Maybe next time, try something other than flowers…” Luffy’s words, though meant to be supportive, were betrayed by the laughter bubbling up from him.

“It’s alright, man… there’s always a backup plan. Let’s just think of something else.” Sabo added, trying to hide his laughter.

Ace rolled his eyes, still flushed with embarrassment. “This is so hard. What do girls even like?”

Luffy, his laughter tapering off, scratched his head as he offered an idea. “Maybe chocolates?”

Ace groaned. “That’s just as cliché! Is there anything that isn’t expected? Something unique and special?”

Sabo rubbed his chin, deep in thought, trying to come up with something more fitting. “Why not write her a poem? I bet she'd love that.”

Ace’s eyes brightened for a split second before quickly deflating. “I can’t write a poem to save my life! My handwriting’s awful, and I’m terrible with words. It’d be embarrassing.”

Sabo, barely hiding his amusement, grinned. “Well, even if your handwriting looks like a chicken scratched it out, the sentiment might be enough to make up for it.”

Later, Ace sat in a quiet corner, a pen, and paper in hand, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. His heart raced as he tried to write something meaningful for you, but the words felt clumsy, as if they weren’t his own. He poured his feelings onto the paper, though the poem seemed more a jumble of scattered thoughts than anything resembling the deep, heartfelt message he hoped to convey. When he finished, he reread it, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over him. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but maybe the sincerity behind it would make up for its imperfections.

The next day at school, Ace gathered his courage and decided to give it to you. His hands trembled as he approached, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hey, I, um… have something…”

“Oh, sure! Let me see,” you said, grabbing the paper.

Ace swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he handed you the poem. His eyes watched anxiously as you began to read, his nerves building with every second that passed.

When you finally looked up, you gave him a kind smile, assuming this was part of the English classwork. “It's nice,” you commented. “But it could use a little more polishing. I can help you if you'd like.”

Your words, meant to be constructive, felt like a sharp blow to Ace’s fragile heart. He had hoped for something—anything—more. His expectations came crashing down, and he fought to mask the disappointment behind a strained smile. “Y-Yeah, thanks,” he stammered, his voice breaking as his heart sank further.

You, completely unaware of the turmoil you were causing, moved closer with a smile, eager to help him improve the poem. Ace stood there, feeling his hope crumble, his stomach in knots. 

You, focused solely on making the poem fit the assignment, offered ideas for better word choices and smoother phrasing. You were kind and patient, but to Ace, it felt like nothing more than a reminder that he had failed to make his feelings clear.

Finally, you handed the poem back to him, a smile lighting up your face. “It's a little messy, but honestly, it's quite beautiful,” you said. “It feels real. I would have melted if the guy wrote something like this for me.”

With that, you turned to walk away, leaving Ace standing frozen, stunned by your words. His mind replayed your compliment, it feels real, over and over, the phrase echoing in his ears. To you, it was a praise of his poem's sincerity—but to him, it felt like a cruel reminder of how his heartfelt attempt had been reduced to a simple class project. 

“That was a complete disaster,” Ace groaned, burying his face in his arms as he slumped down.

“Hey, don’t sweat it! We’ll think of something else. You’ve got this!”

Sabo, his eyes gleaming with a mix of sympathy and barely held-back amusement, leaned in and spoke with a touch of seriousness. “Maybe next time, try talking to her instead of writing it all down?”

Ace grimaced, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “Talking’s fine, but what should I even say? It’s like my brain stops working when she is near…” His voice faltered. He ran a hand through his hair and swore under his breath.

Sabo paused, as though considering Ace’s struggle, then offered a more practical suggestion. “Why not just compliment her? Girls appreciate sincerity, and you’re a pretty straightforward guy. You can make it work.”

Ace shot him a doubtful look, his fingers curling around the crumpled poem in his pocket as if it could offer an answer. “So, I just… walk up to her and say something like, ‘Hey, I like your hair’? That feels way too simple.”

“Stop making it harder than it needs to be. Just be honest. You’re a good guy, Ace—girls appreciate that.” Sabo just said.

Ace hesitated, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach slowly loosening. Maybe Sabo was right. Confidence. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

Next day. Another attempt. His heart pounded like a drum, and his face flushed a deep shade of red as he struggled to find the right words when he approached you after one class. His mouth opened, but what came out was a jumbled mess. “Y-Your… your uh, hair, it's…” he stammered, his tongue twisted in knots.

You looked at him, a little confused by the awkwardness in his approach, but gave him a polite, curious smile. “My hair?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, trying to understand what he was getting at.

Ace’s face turned even redder. Why is this so hard?! He thought desperately, his mind spinning with frustration. His hands were clammy, and his heart raced as he tried to salvage what little dignity he had left.

Ace swallowed hard, his nerves on edge. He pushed forward, determined to get the compliment out. “It’s… nice,” he managed to spit out, mentally cringing the moment the words left his mouth. 

Sabo standing nearby could barely contain his amusement, shaking his head and covering his mouth. Luffy snickered, his shoulders shaking as he bit his lip to suppress the laughter bubbling up.

You blinked confused at the weirdness of the compliment, unsure of how to respond. You gave him a polite but awkward smile. “Thanks?” you said, the word sounding more like a question than an actual response.

He mumbled an awkward apology, feeling his pride crumble. Without another word, he turned and fled, his feet carrying him away with a pounding heart and a deep sense of failure.

From a distance, Sabo and Luffy’s laughter echoed in his ears, their amusement only amplifying his humiliation.

Ace, feeling utterly defeated, slumped onto a nearby bench. He buried his face in his hands, desperately trying to hide from the world. Luffy and Sabo approached him, still snickering at the scene they’d just witnessed.

Sabo clapped him on the back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like compliments aren’t your strong suit, huh?”

Luffy's laughter rang out, echoing through the area. “Dude, that was a mess! 

Ace groaned, his head sinking deeper into his hands. “This is humiliating. I’m so bad at this,” he muttered. “And only with her… I could charm any other girl, I know I could, but with her, it’s like I forget how to function properly.”

“Calm down. We’ll think of something else. You’ll find a way, even if you’re just super awkward around her.”

Luffy, his laughter fading into a reassuring grin, nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! If one approach doesn’t work, we’ll try another! Don’t give up yet!”

Ace sighed deeply, reluctantly lifting his head to meet the mischievous grins of his brothers. “I’m not sure if I have much hope left,” he said. “It’s like every chance just slips away when I’m around her.”

Sabo chuckled, shaking his head. “C’mon, you’re being dramatic. You just have to keep trying… unless you give up?”

Ace scoffed. “I’m not giving up! I can’t let her slip away like that… I just wish there was a way to express my feelings without looking like a complete idiot.”

Suddenly, Luffy’s eyes lit up with a spark of inspiration. “What if you did something super obvious? Like, so obvious she couldn’t miss it?”

Ace perked up, the smallest hint of hope flickering in his chest. “Obvious? What do you mean?”

“Like, I don’t know… confess in a public way!” Luffy suggested.

Ace’s face turned a deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in shock. “A public confession?! Are you nuts?! I can’t do that! It would be… so embarrassing!” he stammered, his heart racing at the very thought of standing in front of a crowd to pour out his feelings.

Luffy’s face fell slightly, his idea deflated. “Alright, fine. No public confessions. But we still need something big and bold to grab her attention.”

Ace slouched deeper into the bench with a sigh of defeat. “I don’t know… I can’t even hold a decent conversation, let alone do something grand without messing it up somehow.”

Sabo placed a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. “You’re letting your nerves get the best of you. We just need a plan that suits you and your style. Let’s brainstorm a bit more.”

Ace took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “Alright, I’m open to suggestions. As crazy as they might sound, I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

With that, the trio dove into brainstorming mode, throwing out ideas that ranged from utterly ridiculous to somewhat feasible. Luffy even suggested skywriting a proposal.

Ace rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his composure amidst the absurd ideas. “I’m not renting a banner, let alone hiring a skywriter! I don’t even have the budget for that kind of stunt. I was thinking something more modest… but maybe, just maybe, memorable enough to catch her attention.”

Sabo, deep in thought, considered Ace’s situation carefully. “What if you did something that incorporates one of her interests or hobbies? That way, it wouldn’t just be some grand gesture, but something personal. It would show that you’re actually paying attention to what she likes.”

Ace’s eyes brightened for a moment, a spark of realization lighting up his face. “That’s actually a good idea. She loves reading… But how do I turn that into a confession? I already tried writing a poem, and that was a disaster.”

Sabo tapped his chin, considering the idea further. “Yeah, let’s avoid making you do anything creative… Maybe you could quote a confession from one of her favorite books? That way, it feels personal, but still thoughtful.”

Ace’s eyes widened with excitement. “Really? That actually might work! I even know her favorite!”

Over the next few days, he rented the book and diligently read it. He poured over the pages, taking his time to understand the story and memorize the key lines for his confession. The weight of the task felt heavy, but with each passing day, his anxiety grew as he mentally rehearsed the words he would say. He hoped, prayed, that he wouldn’t stumble.

The day before Valentine’s Day and clutching the book tightly in his hands, Ace approached you. The instant you saw it, your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! You have my favorite book” Your voice was filled with curiosity, and Ace's heart raced in his chest. This was it—this was his moment. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, recalling the lines he had committed to memory.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, everything fell apart.

“Er. I uh… umm, you see… uh…" Ace froze, his mind going completely blank. His practiced words vanished into thin air, leaving him standing there, helpless. His face flushed with mortification, and your gaze shifted to one of confusion. You waited patiently, still hopeful for something coherent to emerge, but Ace’s anxiety surged, drowning him in self-doubt.

His face burned with humiliation, his stomach twisting painfully. Unable to bear the tension any longer, Ace blurted out, “I—I have to go!” His words stumbled over each other, and without another thought, he dropped the book and fled, his face hot with embarrassment.

As he bolted away from the scene, Ace cursed under his breath. His hands clenched into tight fists, his frustration bubbling over. His heart pounded in his chest as he wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He couldn’t believe he’d just run away like that.

Sabo and Luffy exchanged a look of disbelief, watching Ace’s hasty retreat with a mixture of amusement and pity. Sabo tried to stifle a chuckle, shaking his head. “Man, he was so close, yet so far.”

Eventually, they found Ace sitting alone, head buried in his hands. Defeat was written all over his posture. Sabo and Luffy sat down beside him, offering him a moment of quiet support.

“Well, Ace, you gave it a good shot,” Sabo said sympathetically, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Ace lifted his head, his face still flushed with shame. “I’m done,” he decided. “I’m never attempting anything like that again. I’ve had it.”

Sabo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head in understanding. Luffy nudged Ace playfully, still grinning. “Don’t give up yet, bro. You might not have nailed it this time, but you’re getting closer. Right?”

Ace just sighed, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t think I’ll ever get it right.”

On Valentine’s Day, the moment he stepped through the school doors, the sight of tacky decorations strung up everywhere made him feel like everything was mocking him. He couldn’t escape the sensation that every garish ribbon and glittery heart was making fun of his own tangled emotions. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the bustle around him until a voice—a voice he knew all too well—cut through the noise.

“Can we talk, please?”

There you were. The girl he had been nervously trying to confess to, standing before him. 

Sabo, who had been watching from a distance, immediately grabbed Luffy by the arm, dragging him aside. Without a word, Sabo motioned for them to hide and watch from a distance. Their eyes gleamed with excitement as they tried to remain unseen, eager to see how Ace would handle this unexpected opportunity.

Ace nodded, his nerves bubbling up as he followed you to a quiet corner, his heart racing in anticipation. He still wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but the moment felt surreal.

You opened the book to the page he had marked, and Ace's stomach twisted. He even considered running away again. You turned to him, a small, knowing smile on your face. 

“Were you trying to quote this part?” you asked, your finger pointing to the underlined line. Ace’s heart dropped at the recognition of the passage, the one he had practiced so hard.

“I-uh… yeah, I was,” Ace admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was sure he could disappear into the floor if given the chance. As he braced himself for rejection, your next words caught him off guard. 

You smiled, a gentle and almost affectionate expression. “I liked it,” you said, tracing your finger over the highlighted words. “It’s beautiful, and I’m flattered you chose that part.”

Ace’s mind went blank. Shock coursed through him as he tried to process what you had said. “R-Really?” he stuttered, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

You nodded, your eyes sparkling. “I thought it was sweet that you tried,” you added, your hand tapping the page. “I just wish you didn’t run off like that. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I was just… embarrassed,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It didn’t go as I planned, like at all.”

You chuckled. “I can tell it didn’t,” you said, your voice filled with empathy. “But I appreciate the effort… It’s cute that you’d try something so bold for me.”

Ace’s heart skipped a beat. You found him cute? The question buzzed in his mind as his cheeks flushed even deeper.

“You think it’s cute? Really?” Ace asked, almost disbelieving, his voice cracking slightly. He had to be dreaming, right?

You smiled even wider, your eyes twinkling. “Of course, it’s quite adorable, even if it didn’t go as planned,” you replied. “And so were the flowers, the poem, and that compliment.” Your voice softened, and you added quietly, “Sorry I was too dense to pick up on the meaning before.”

Ace’s heart swelled. You had noticed everything he had done, and you weren’t upset. In fact, you seemed to find it charming. His shoulders relaxed, the anxiety he’d been carrying for days melting away. He couldn’t believe it.

Feeling lighter than he had in days, Ace summoned the courage to be bold, his heart pounding. “I was trying so hard to confess to you,” he said. “But I kept messing it up. I don’t know why I get so nervous around you. I end up sounding like an idiot.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck again, a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. The warmth of your voice eased the tension in his heart. “Believe me, I wouldn’t mind more awkward confessions.”

With his confidence renewed, Ace looked into your eyes. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I like you,” he took another deep breath. “I really like you.”

The words hung in the air, and Ace’s heart raced as he waited for your response.

“I like you too,” you admitted. Then giggled as you added. “I really like you too.”

His breath caught, and before he could stop himself, the words spilled out: “So… would you … want to be my girlfriend?” He froze immediately, realizing how stupid it sounded, and his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. He looked away, half-expecting you to laugh at his embarrassment.

But instead, you just laughed, and there was something so genuine in the way you looked at him, The adoration in your gaze made him question how he had never noticed it before. “Maybe take me out first?” you teased.

“Right, right. Of course.” He laughed, feeling relief and pure joy flood over him. Oh, how he enjoyed this. “So, will you be my Valentine?” His words hung in the air, bold yet gentle, vulnerable yet hopeful. “And go out with me today?”

“I would love that.” Your smile stretched wider, and Ace couldn't help but grin back like a fool.

“Ace?” you asked, breaking the quiet, your voice almost shy now.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his heart still racing from the rush of emotions.

“Ask me later again, cause I would definitely like to be your girl,” you said, your eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, as if daring him to be bold again.

He could barely believe what he was hearing, but before he could respond, a distant cheer rang out from behind a corner.

Sabo and Luffy, from their secret hiding point, threw their hands up in triumph, celebrating the success of their matchmaking efforts. Their cheer was enough to make Ace chuckle, his cheeks still flushed but his heart lighter than it had been lately.

[fishfooddude]

No Phone Policy 5.0

Trigger/Content Warning: DV themes to an extent, prayers, lots of anxiety mentions, abandonment?

I feel like I got a little too angsty with this one, but remember, y'all permitted it.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 4

Before the Policy (Technically the part I wrote before this part)

You were frozen. One of Carmy’s arms was draped around your waist as he slept peacefully. All you could do was stare at the wall and wait for Wolf to cry so you’d have an excuse to leave the room. But the cries didn’t come. The room was filled with the white noise of the overhead fan and Carmy’s soft snores. You swallowed and tried to focus on anything besides the twinge of pain Carmy had inflicted on your wrists. What were you going to do? Carmy had never done anything like this before. All the after-school specials and PSAs you’d seen as a kid said that domestic violence starts small. The abuser tests the waters - see what they can get away with. You were the perfect victim in some way.

A month postpartum, maybe $500 to your name, some family but not many friends… but Carmy wasn’t an abuser? Was he? You racked your brain for hours trying to compartmentalize the last five years of your life. Was Carmy the perfect friend? No. He wasn’t always the ideal boyfriend, fiance, or husband, as evident by how he’d been ignoring you the weeks prior to you giving birth, but he wasn’t that kind of man. He wasn’t the kind of man who had to hurt people to feel significant or noteworthy. He wasn’t the kind of man who had to manipulate or lie to people to get what he wanted. Hell, it took months of you asking before he dared to smack your ass in bed- he wasn’t the type to lay hands on you. As you lay in bed with him, your brain racked with any other times Carmy may have done something subtle, something you missed that could have been a predictor of what happened. You were brought out of your downward thought spiral when Wolf’s soft cries came over the baby monitor. Fear washed over you when you felt the weight of Carmy’s arm disappear. 

Carmy mumbled something before getting out of bed and slowly exiting the master bedroom. When he was gone, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “1,3,5,7,11,13,17,19…” you counted under your breath as you watched the ceiling fan slowly turn in counter-clockwise circles, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference…” you whispered to yourself. As you took another deep breath, you heard footsteps approach the bedroom. You closed your eyes and rolled back to your previous position. 

As Carmy got back into bed, you felt your stomach twist, “She’s okay, baby. Just needed a diaper change…” he whispered as his arms snaked around your waist. You felt like you were going to throw up when he pulled you to meet him in the middle of the bed. 

~

“So all it took was havin’ a kid?” Cerico laughed as he read the email Carmy had sent the night prior. “Hey, it’s sweet. He’s growin’ up.” Natalie commented as she scrolled through the email on her laptop, “Also, I don’t know how he spelled ‘special’ wrong four times with spell check.” 

“Okay—updates for the menu… so we are doing a singular special every night. It’ll highlight whatever produce is fresh from the farmer’s market. We'll make weekly menus instead of changing the menu every night. We’re also switching food vendors, so if you want extra hours, we’ll need an additional couple of sets of hands to unload the orders.” Syd explained this to the wait staff during their daily meeting before the dinner service. The sense of relief in the room was palpable; Richie thanked Syd for explaining the changes before taking the lead for the rest of the meeting. 

Carmy was sitting in the office that night when Richie found his way inside. He immediately noticed a picture of Wolf pinned on the corkboard above the computer, surrounded by post-it notes and various unpaid bills. He grinned and pulled a chair to the desk, “What’s good cousin?” 

Carmy looked up from his notebook when he heard Richie’s question. He shrugged, “I’m off the next couple of days… tryin’ help Syd out with some special ideas.”

“How are things at home?” Richie probed. Carmy shrugged again, much to his annoyance. “Y/N still pissed at you?” 

“We’re good. Babys good. Everything is okay.” Carmy answered as he ripped the page from his notebook and stuck it to the corkboard before getting up from his chair. Richie’s brow creased at Carmy’s explanation. There was no way ‘everything is okay’; he missed the birth of his child. While he hadn’t known for that long, he knew there was no way you’d just let Carmy off the hook like that. 

Carmy walked through the front door and heard noises coming from the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he found his way into the kitchen. Your back was turned to him; Wolf sat in her pastel Bumbo seat on the counter, babbling. You laughed along with her babbling as he stood in the doorway watching you wash dishes and continue your ‘conversation’ with Wolf. Carmy came into the kitchen and hugged you from behind, startling you. He felt you swallow hard as your body tensed. He pushed the concern out of his head and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. 

“How you doin’ baby?” he asked as he let his arms fall and turned his attention to Wolf. You clenched your fist behind your back, watching Carmy lift Wolf out of her seat and cuddle against him. You shrugged, “Goin’ great. She napped like a champ, and I got some work done from home.” 

Carmy smiled as he rubbed Wolf’s back softly, “That’s great, baby.” You nodded in agreement and returned to finishing what you’d been doing before Carmy had gotten home. It had been a few weeks since Carmy did what he did, and you still felt conflicted about the entire situation. He was trying to be present and involved with all things parenting, but you couldn’t shake the way he’d hurt you. He pretended like it never happened. 

~

“How’d her appointment go?” Carmy asked as he entered the bedroom with a towel around his hips.

You locked your Kindle before meeting his gaze. “She’s good. She got four shots and was super pissed at me for like an hour, but she’s good now.” 

Carmy chuckled, “Did Feyre and Rhysand finish rebuilding the night court yet?” he asked as he got a pair of underwear from his drawers. You rolled your eyes at the question, “Not yet. I got to a good part, though.”

“How’d work go?” you questioned as Carmy got into bed. He shrugged, “It wasn’t anythin’ special. Just missed my girls…” his voice had dropped an octave as he scooted closer to you in bed. You felt your body tense as he snaked his arms around your waist. You glanced at the baby monitor, praying for Wolf to start crying. The idea of being intimate with him made you feel cold and clammy.

“Carm…” you trailed off as you tried to wiggle out of his grip, “I-I-I” you stuttered as you felt him press a kiss into the exposed skin of your shoulder. You squeezed your eyes closed as Carmy moved to hover above your body. The hair on your arms stood when you felt Carmy’s thumb run across your jaw. “I miss you baby… I know I fucked up, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make up for it… let me make you feel good…” he cooed. 

Before you could answer his demand, his lips were on yours. Blood rushed to your ears as he feverishly kissed you. Carmy was desperate to alleviate the frustrations that had been building since you came home from the hospital. Watching you take care of his baby left him feeling feral. The desire to ravage you had met its breaking point this evening when you strolled into the living room in those silky pajama shorts with the lacy trim. The pastel green popped against your skin; the material was tight around the fat of your thighs and beckoned for him to take you there and then. He just had to wait for the baby to go down.

Your stomach twisted as Carmy’s lips made their way down your jawline and neck toward your collarbone. As he sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin, you felt as if you were going to throw up. “Carmy,” you sniveled as he pushed a hand under the band of said silk shorts, lacing his fingers in the band of your underwear. You went unheard as Carmy sucked a hickey into your collarbone, “Carmy!” you cried as you brought your palms to his chest to shove him aside. 

Carmy was perplexed but concerned when he realized you were hyperventilating. “Baby- baby, are you okay?” he asked as he reached for you. You pushed yourself off the bed, stumbling as you rushed into the bathroom, desperate to get as far away from Carmy as quickly as possible. Carmy’s brow tensed as he scrambled to get out of bed, pulling on a pair of gym shorts that had been discarded on the bedroom floor before he got into the shower. 

Carmy knocked on the door before trying the doorknob. The door was locked, and he could hear your heavy sobs from the other side of the door. “Baby- Y/N, baby, talk to me. Did I do somethin’ wrong?” 

“LEAVE ME ALONE, CARMEN!” you chastised him through the door as your body shook. You sought comfort in the corner of the bathroom by the bathtub. With shaky fingers, you tried to tap against your skin to ground yourself, but the coping skin proved unsuccessful. 

“Baby? Please open the door,” Carmy pleaded shakily. “Y/N? Let me help you, baby.” He rested his forehead against the door as he jingled the doorknob. You didn’t respond to his pleas. Carmy took a deep breath. “Baby, please. " He begged and bargained for you to open the door. 

“CARMY, JUST-JUST GO AWAY!” Your voice cracked as you yelled through the bathroom door. You didn’t care about waking Wolf; you just wanted him to leave. “Baby, let me in. Let me help you,” Carmy demanded as calmly as he could. You took a deep breath before pushing yourself up from the floor. If you did this, it had to be quick.

The door flung open to Carmy’s surprise. You pushed past him and ran out of the bedroom. “Baby?!” he called after you as he tried to catch up with you. “Baby?! What the fuck! Talk to me!” he yelled as you reached the top of the stairs. He reached out and managed to get a hold of your wrist. Your eyes were wide as your mind flashed back to the last time he’d grabbed you like this.

You yanked your wrist out of his grip and quickly blinked away the tears welling in your eyes. You had to get away from him. “Y/N!” Carmy yelled as you stumbled down the stairs, tripping on your way. You landed on your hip hard, as a hiss of pain came out of your mouth as Carmy joined you at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Baby? Are you okay?!” Carmy sputtered as he pushed your hair out of your face. You shook your head and tried to push him away from you as he helped you sit at the bottom of the stairs. “Fuck Y/N! Let me fuckin’ help you!” Carmy protested as you pushed yourself away from him and up from the ground in a swift movement. 

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE CARMEN! I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU, ASSHOLE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you grabbed your bag from the table by the door. Wolf’s cries echoed throughout the house as Carmy watched you storm out of the house. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy grunted as tears started rolling down his cheeks. He sat momentarily on the stairs to compose himself before getting up to go into the nursery. 

“I’m sorry, princess…” he cooed as he picked Wolf up from her crib. She wailed louder as Carmy brought her to his chest. As he bounced her in his arms, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of something bad happening to him. “Mommy’ll be okay… I got you right now…”

Part 6

[oacest]

Patsy Kensit in Hello Magazine, Dec 19 2000

Was the news that Liam is having a child with Nicole the final nail in the coffin?

It's killed off any feelings - especially because of the way it was handled. He didn't tell us himself, we had to hear about it through the newspapers. But it didn't break my heart and I'm not devastated. People are feeling sorry for me because I'm on my own, but I'm not with anyone because that's what I want. I'm taking time to learn from this huge mistake and I couldn't possibly impose a male figure in my two boys' lives so soon after a marriage break-up.

But you must have felt devastated at times.

Of course there have been times during the last five months when I've felt devastated. The split was like a death. We were together for five years - and with that man it felt like a very long time! But I've been through all the selfindulgent romanticising and the pain. It's cathartic talking about it and you have to mourn it. There were some fantastic times but they weren't based on real emotions - you can draw your own conclusions from that. It was a false sense of things. I can honestly say that life is fantastic now. I'm so happy. I'm so pleased that all the mess I used to have to deal with is not my mess any more. I've moved on. I have a one-year-old son and an eight year-old son and they're the most important people in my life.

You recently said you cried every day for three-and-a-half years. Were you unhappy in the relationship quite early on?

Oh, much earlier on. I suppose my heart was first broken when the stories about other women started - I think before we even got married. Liam went missing the first week we moved in with each other. Then I'll never forget the Q Awards a couple of years ago when Liam chucked a champagne glass at the wall and stormed off, leaving me there on my own talking to Rod Stewart, who I'd known for years. It was so humiliating, I came out and there was someone from the News Of The World with a picture of Liam in a pub with some girl while I'd been in America. He said something like, 'Are you going to leave the love rat now?' And all I could say was, 'I love him.'  I can laugh about it now, but it's unacceptable when someone walk out the door and they tell you they'll be back at ten o'clock but actually come home four days later - when you didn't know  whether they were lying dead in the gutter or were with another woman. We had a baby. You can't live like that. It's not normal. It takes two people to kill a relationship and I reacted to his behaviour, but I wonder whether anyone else would have reacted differently under the circumstances. It was hard for me. I don't have the backup of a mother. I think I put all my love and energy into one person - the wrong person.

Did you think Lennon's birth would change things?

Anyone would hope so, but I spent five years trying to understand why he did the things he did and I cried too much over it; I don't now. I look at pictures of myself when Lennon was three or four months old and I look so unhappy. Now I have a twinkle in my eye again.

Why were you so swept away by Liam?

Circumstances. I was with Jim, who was obviously a completely different type of person. He worked very hard and encouraged me in my career, too, so we ended up spending so much time apart. I told Jim to his face about Liam - that I felt I was with someone who needed me with him all the time. And then, as work came up, gradually I didn't want to take it on because I was afraid to leave Liam alone. You can't imagine what it's like to call home five minutes after you've left the house and discover that person has disappeared - and then doesn't come back for three days.

Were you kindred spirits at the start?

No. We had nothing in common. We were very attracted to each other and it probably didn't go much further than that. I just got swept away. There was a lot of lust - but that quickly dies, doesn't it? I think I loved him. There was definitely a period of time when there was a lot of potential that didn't get realised. The idea of being consumed by another person and wanting to spend every moment of the day with them is a wonderful ideal and it was something I thought I had at the beginning.  But there has to be an intellectual meeting of minds to back it up. I didn't pick a book up for five years and I'd always been a book head.

Is Liam not a bright guy?

I wouldn't want to comment on that. I'm talking about these things in a forthright way because I think people are appalled by the way he's behaved. But I'm not any more. I'm not surprised. How could I possibly have expected somebody who was behaving that way to change? Now I understand that it's not necessarily your fault. The things people do are not because you're not enough for them; it's within them. I'm just surprised I put up with it. But it's not for me to be negative about him now because that's going to hurt Lennon.

Liam was a 22-year-old rock star. Don't you think you should have known better?

Liam wanted to be with me and I wanted to be with him. But I should have known better. The writing was on the wall, what with his disappearances and constant reports of him being with other women. But I was convinced it wasn't true when it obviously was. I chose to believe it wasn't true until something that's plain to see was obviously happening. I can honestly say that I don't feel anything at all for Liam now. I really don't.

Did you ever think, or hope, that you might be reconciled?

There were a good seven or eight weeks when I felt sad about the split because of Lennon. But even before the most recent news, I knew it was the right decision. My life changed so dramatically: I was getting work offers when before I hadn't for five years. People didn't want to employ me because it was too much of a risk. I was a strong person but I don't know how anyone could deal with the things I had to deal with.

X

[erule]

Cheating with Spider-Man | p.p.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader 

Summary: you and Peter have been in a relationship for five years, but right now, things are not working out for you. That’s when Spider-Man comes along… and you cheat on Peter with him.   

Warnings: cheating, angst, fluff, established relationship (reader and Peter are both 18+ here)

Word count: 2.2K+

A/N: hi guys! I’m back with a ff with Peter, after I watched Thunderbolts*. Loved it!! You can imagine every Peter you’d like. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! I hope you enjoy it 🌙

A lot of time has passed since the last time you fell in love. You still remember the very first moment in which it happened, though. 

It was in May. You and Peter were in your Dad’s lab. He had just helped you with your Science homework – a very lame excuse you made up just to spend some more time with him – and he had this huge smile on his face, that was pure joy, a giant ray of pure sunshine in that room. And you kissed him. He was astonished, while your hands were firm on his cheeks and your lips were red and swollen. His eyes widened when he finally could breathe and look at you.

“What did you just do?” He asked you.

“I… I’m sorry, I should have asked for your consent,” you responded, embarrassed and guilty. You felt so ashamed! You should have asked him for his permission, but his eyes were so shiny and happy, that you just… wanted to be a part of his happiness.

“No, I mean… You should be sure of that, because I don’t want to be the one to tell your Dad that we’re dating,” he said and you raised your eyebrows, confused. “I’m scared of him”.

You laughed so loud, the whole compound could hear you.

Five years after that moment, you’re sitting on the bed you now share with Peter in your apartment, wondering what went wrong. How can love disappear? Does it ever actually go away? Are you having hallucinations, right now? Does Peter know that – maybe – you’re not in love with him anymore? Does he know that you cheated on him?

Speaking of Peter, he’s entering from the door right now. It’s night and you should be asleep. He’ll probably say that he was working with your Dad for his internship, but you know that he’s lying. Your Dad confirmed it to you. Why didn’t you confront him, then? Because you’re scared of what his answer could be. You’re also afraid of confessing something so terrible and surreal like that. That you cheated on him with Spider-Man. That you’ve been seeing somebody who’s not your actual boyfriend for months. That you can’t see him without his costume nor his mask. That you can just look at his lips and kiss them whenever you’d like. But you don’t even know the colour of his eyes. Riddiculous, right? MJ said that it’s so stupid from you, being in love with someone else. Being in love with an identity and not a real person. Your Dad laughed to your face and said: “I hope that you won’t be disappointed, when you’ll look at his face”. Ned said that Peter would never cheat on you, but he’s hiding a secret from you and you have to know the truth. But not tonight. 

“Hey,” Peter says, kissing you on your forehead. “Still up? Lemme guess: can’t sleep? Uh? Is that right?” He says, while changing his clothes. 

You let your eyes wander on his back, as if you were driving a car on his body, caressing every mole, every scar, every birthmark on his arms. If only being intimate – in every way – with somebody could actually solve all of your problems, you would be willing to do so with Peter. 

“You know me,” you say, with a fake smile on your face. But the joke is on you, because he really does know you. Better than everyone else. Event han yourself. Event than your father.

“I do,” he says, a brief smile on his face and a gulp in your throat. He’s still so beautiful, he makes your stomach ache. 

“Where were you? With my Dad?” 

“Yeah. He’s been insufferable these months. He wants everything to be perfect for the fair,” he says and that’s true. The half truth is that he’s been out with somebody else, though. But you shouldn’t know that, so you remain silent. 

“He’s obsessive, you know him,” you say and Peter is know half naked in front of you. 

You begin to wonder… to wonder if Spider-Man has abs. If his boxers are black like Peter’s. If he has moles, scars and birthmarks on his body. If his eyes are blue or brown. If he’s still a good person, even if he took somebody else’s girl, because it would also make you a better person. Something that you don’t think you are, right now. You’re losing the control you have on yourself, when you sit up and look at Peter with hunger.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

You wonder if Spider-Man would touch you like Peter does. If he has ever even thought about it. Because you did. And you would love to do that, but you can’t.

You grab Peter’s chin with your hand and you kiss him on his lips. Hard. Harder than that day, as if you could kiss somebody else. The warmth of his body and his boxers are all over you, right now or maybe it’s just that you wish to be all over him, Spider-Man.

He departs from you. His eyes are wondering if you’re alright, checking every inch of you. Normally, it would make you shiver, but now you can’t even recognise yourself anymore. 

“Something happened,” he stats and you gulp. It was just one kiss, you’d swear. You would scream that you didn’t want to fall, but you did. But your voice doesn’t exhale from your throat. “Y/N?”

“I cheated on you,” you say, a tear already running on your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you whisper and the relief you feel after that is the reason you should be ashamed in the first place of what you did.

He looks at you in disbelief. Something in his eyes – glass – shatters like a heartbreak. He shakes his head.

“What? When?”

“I would ask the same thing to you,” you reply and his eyes widens. “Yeah, my Dad told me that you don’t go to the compound. You’re out and about with somebody, don’t you? Who is it? An Avenger?”

“What about you? Uh?” He asks, a grin on his face. He’s angry, more of that, he’s furious. “Who’s your new guy? Was that fancy red dress you wore at our anniversary for him? You’re unbelievable, Y/N,” he says, then he wears a T-shirt and some pants. “You’re throwing away a five-year-relationship for some guy”.

“He’s not some guy!” You shout.

“Uh, yeah? Who is he, then?”

You gulp. He’ll laugh about it. MJ did. Ned did. Tony, your Dad, would tell you that you’re a joke. He never liked Peter as your boyfriend, but eventually he accepted it. Now? He’ll probably look at you like Peter is doing right now. 

You’re hysterical, when you say it: “Spider-Man”.

Peter doesn’t even flinch. That’s the first thing you notice. He just nods, eventually, after some seconds, as if he told himself that he had to react in some way. You find it odd.

“Did you kiss him?” 

“Yes”.

“Did you sleep with him?”

“No,” you say and he should show you some sort of relief, you think. At least, you would, in his position, but he doesn’t. Why he doesn’t?

“Good”.

“Are you out of your mind?” You ask him and he just shruggs.

“End of discussion, Y/N. What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe that you feel bad about it? Are you even still in love with me?”

“Oh, that’s so not selfish of you to ask me that,” he says, his hands on his hips. 

“That’s it, I’m out,” you say and you take your jacket. 

“Out of what?”

“Out of this room, out of this relationship, whatever,” you say, before you slam the door behind you.

You call him. Ten seconds after you dialed his number, he’s already on the phone with you. Peter would never do that.

“Hey,” he says and you feel like you can suddenly breathe again. 

“Hi. I’m sorry, maybe you were sleeping, but I just had a huge fight with Peter and… I told him everything. He didn’t even deny that he has somebody else. He didn’t even care about me”.

“I’m sorry, babe”.

“Yeah. Anyway, can we meet? On the rooftoop of the compound? I’m driving there”.

“Sure. I’ll meet you in twenty”.

“Okay, fine, bye”.

The air is thin like a knife. It’s cold and he’s beautiful. His silhouette reflects the light. You should be sorry for what you did to Peter, but you’re not. He’s not the person you fell in love with anymore. On the other hand, Spider-Man is everything that Peter were five years ago, but in a more mature way. He’s older, stronger and wiser. He’s everything you need right now. 

You met him some months ago: he saved you during a gala at the compound, while Peter wasn’t there. Your Dad was so angry at you, because you should have stayed at home, but you wanted to be a part of that world for once. He was there to protect you. Then you started to look for him more and more. He didn’t mind, because he was kind. Then, you asked him to see his face, but the only thing he couldn’t cover anymore was his mouth, because he wanted to kiss you and you let him. That was your very first sin. The strange thing was that he smelled like Peter. He smelled like home.

His mask is not covering his mouth nor his neck. When he sees you, he hugs you and you feel safe again. It’s so strange to feel like this with somebody who’s not Peter, after five years…

“Are you okay?” He asks you and you nod.

“Yeah. I just needed to see you, I guess,” you say with a smile.

“You flatter me”.

“Nah, I just… It’s the truth. I feel safe, with you. Peter and I… we were distant before I met you. I don’t even know where he was the night you saved me. He was always somewhere else. He just didn’t care about me”.

“Don’t be so harsh on him”.

You raise your eyebrows, confused.

“You got the girl,” you say, while caressing his hand. “You don’t need to feel some sort of empathy for him”.

“I’m Spider-Man, baby. I’ll always feel empathy for everybody”.

“Touchè”. 

But it’s still odd that he does it for Peter.

“Why are you not covering your neck? It’s cold,” you say, a hand on his cheek to feel if he’s warm enough.

“You still don’t see it, do you?”

“What? What should I see?” You ask him with half of a smile, right before your eyes can actually catch it. The birthmark. The birthmark on his neck.

You take a step away from him, your eyes burned with tears. You shake your head in disbelief. He kept the secret from you for months. He didn’t tell you for year, years, that he has a second identity. Every birthday, every anniversary… he wasn’t there, because he was saving the world! And the worst thing was that your father knew that too all along.

“Peter?” Your voice is thin as the air, now. He nods.

“Yeah,” he says, then he takes away the mask and you gulp.

“Oh my…”

“I’m sorry”.

You’re falling apart. The betrayal hurts so much. You could faint right now and he would catch you. But you don’t. Every piece comes together. Every night he was with you, Peter was somewhere else. When Peter was with you, he couldn’t answer his phone. Peter let you believe that he was cheating on you. But why?

“Why did you do that?”

“Your father didn’t want you to know, that was the agreement. Months ago, I wanted to tell you, though. I couldn’t keep the secret any longer. We’ve been together for five years, Y/N. I want to marry you,” he says and your heart sinks into your stomach for the happiness. “I asked him for your hand, but he didn’t let me to marry you. I was so angry… that’s why we would always end up in a fight. But then I thought… that if you’d just unmask me somehow, he should have let me. That’s why I started to see you as Spider-Man. But I couldn’t take off my clothes, couldn’t I? So I waited for you to understand that it was me. But you didn’t. Until tonight”.

Or maybe you just didn’t want to catch the signals. Everything was so exciting again as if you were falling for him all over again… It was amazing. That’s when it hits you: being in love with Spider-Man means that you’re still in love with Peter, too. You never stopped loving him.

“You should shoot your shot, Parker,” you say with a smirk and he shoots your web at you in order to bring you closer to him. You feel safe in his arms again, when he embraces you.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” He asks you, with a ring in his hands and you nod.

“Yes. A thousand times, yes”.

And then, you kiss Spider-Man for the last time, but Peter Parker as if it is the first time again.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Eight)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,759

Warning: nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD, suvivor guilt Language, suggestiveness, grinding, neck kisses, dry humping,

A/N: oh man!! We have three parts left after this update, maybe two. Still plotting out the last chapters!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru knew something was wrong with you. Something was up the second you both boarded your plane as you mindlessly stared at your computer screen. He wanted to believe that maybe something happened with your agent or you were stuck doing rewrites, but his anxiety told him you were beginning to regret your decision to come with him. He didn’t want to hold you back if staying in Tokyo with something you wanted to do. He wanted you to follow your dreams.

He just needed to figure out how to bring it up.

However, that seemed like a terrible way to start this trip. He should be elated, jumping with joy over the fact that he spent time with you. You were going to be living together for the next four months. It would be if there were any time to tell you how he felt now. If he could muster up the courage to do that, he would follow his friend's advice, preferably today or tonight, once you guys got to your condo.

Suguru was going to tell you how he felt finally. He was going to be upfront and honest. He didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He would much rather be your boyfriend if you would accept him.

If he continued to beat around the bush, there was a chance he would lose you. That was something he could not afford to do. Losing you would be like losing part of his soul.

For now, he just needed to keep things lighthearted and stress-free. Which would be easier if you weren’t mindlessly staring at your computer screen. Your eyes were slightly swollen, and your manicured nails tapped against the side of your laptop as the word seemed to evade you, seeing you were so lost in thought.

Without thinking, Suguru reached over and gently grabbed your hand, holding it tight, drawing you out of your fantasy world and back into reality. Your tired, swollen eyes glanced down at your conjoined hands, and for the first time since you boarded the plane, you smiled. It wasn’t the fake smile that you had put on since you both sat down. No, this was your genuine, honest smile.

Which made his whole heart sing.

“You okay?” Suguru asked as you pulled your headphones up to listen to him.

“Oh yeah, I have a nasty case of writer's block. I hope going to the beach when we get there will help.”

Hearing you speak so freely about the issues you were having lifted some of the tension on Suguru’s shoulders. Knowing that you were just stuck in writer's block and not regretting your decision to join him, he slumped back against his chair as his fingers slowly interlaced with yours. He was afraid if he moved any faster, you would disappear.

“I’m sorry, having a blockage like that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A flush crept across your cheekbones and over the bridge of your nose. “H-Here?” The shushed, almost reprimanding tone of your voice had your best friend smirking. “W-We’re in public! And people would catch us.” Suguru gave your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“I didn't mean like that. Is there anything I could do to help you get through your writer's block?”

“Oh,” your flush deepened in color, “right, yeah, you didn’t mean us fucking in the bathroom.”

Fucking?

You hadn’t noticed the word you had used, but your best friend did. None of your sessions thus far had gone farther than touching and dry humping. So, for you to outwardly say something like that, it was entirely out of left field. Suguru’s cheek flushed a rosey shade as you continued to ramble on about how there were no planes in your fantasy world, and you didn’t see how that would help with your writer's block but profusely thankful for his offer.

Fucking?

That word had been something he was familiar with countless times before. He had had his share of partners in the past, but you were different. You weren’t just some girl. You were his best friend, and you deserve the absolute best. Fucking, was something he never wanted to do with you. No, Suguru wanted to make love with you.

Love. Making love. That sounded so much better than fucking. Making love sounded like something you were so deserving of.

“Suguru?” Your free hand reached forward, touching his forehead with the back of your hand. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, yeah, I uh—it’s just a bit warm in here.” it sounds like a bullshit excuse because it is a bullshit excuse.

You just softly grin, dropping your hand down to cup his face. The gentle touch alleviates all the stress and thoughts continuously forming in Subaru’s mind. He finds himself in the back of your hand, leaning into your touch. Everything would be okay as long as he had you by his side.

He could return to Okinawa and paint a mural of a girl he had failed. He might be able to go back to the street where she had died eventually. And he would tell you how he felt.

All because you were with him.

Even though you were by his side, he found himself shaking as he looked out at the ocean as the taxi drove you both to the condo you would call Home for the next four months. Thoughts of Riko and Gojo playing with sea cucumbers on the beach and enjoying soba noodles at a restaurant just up the shoreline, there were a lot of memories in this place, ones that had been fueling his nightmares for years.

Before those dark thoughts could dig their claws into his arms, pulling him under, you leaned your body against his back, peering out the window with him. “Whoa, look at those waves!” Your breath fans against his cheek before you press your face against his. “We should go for a walk tonight once we’re all settled in!” As he had thought on the plane, you were doing exactly what he knew—making this whole excursion easier for him to process.

“Yeah, a walk sounds nice.”

Anything involving you sounds nice. The remainder of the ride to the condo is quiet. A peaceful, calm, serene, until you're dropped off at the condo building. That relaxed, tranquil feeling is replaced with a sense of excitement, especially when you both walk inside.

The condo was a one-bedroom, one-bath, one-bath condominium with a living room, kitchen, and balcony. What made it even better was that it was fully furnished with all the necessary furniture and necessities. Making it a perfect home away from home for the next few months. Suguru stepped inside, holding the door open for you, watching your eyes sparkle as you kicked your sandals off, running across the polished wood flooring. You made a beeline for the balcony window, your back straightened before your world around to face him as he shut the door.

“Suguru! We’re super close to the beach! We should go for that walk later tonight!”

The excitement planted across your face and thick in your voice had Suguru’s heart fluttering. “Yeah, weekend. I have to call the aquarium first and let them know we made it.”

“Hell yeah! I’ll go start unpacking!”

Suguru chuckled, watching as you carried all the bags to the bedroom. He quickly called his employer. Much like he thought this time in Okinawa would involve a lot of working and less playing. The aquarium Director wanted to stop in the office to discuss what they wanted and where the mural would be. They had also been kind enough to purchase all the supplies for him. Paints, brushes, ladders, everything he could want or need would be provided.

The director wanted Suguru to take the rest of the day off to settle in before you came in the next day, which was great—having a day off. Which meant he would be able to spend it with you. Maybe if things went right tonight, he could finally tell you how he felt because he was getting tired of hiding behind some bullshit excuse to ‘help’ you with your book.

“Hey,” Suguru tapped his knuckles against the door frame as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “So the aquarium said that we could—” When he enters the room, you glance up from your phone, and Suguru can see tears swelling in your eyes. His heart drops into his stomach as you quickly wipe at the falling tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m okay!”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The talent of his voice leaves no room for arguments, which she’s anticipating you giving him. “Sugu.” But instead of arguing with him, you smile, blushing yourself off the bed before grabbing his hand. “I was just reading a fan someone wrote about Oaklynn and Ilsan!” You swallow hard, whiter as you squeeze his hand tight. “But what were you say about the aquarium?” Suguru knows there's more than just some fanfic behind your tears, but if you keep pushing, he’s afraid he’ll ruin the first night in the condo with you.

“They said we could take today to settle in.”

You both head to the store to get groceries to cook dinner together. The whole time, Suguru watches you with weary eyes. Knowing you guys were out and about, you seemed fine, but he also knew you. You were pretty talented at putting on a mask behind your genuine emotions. He signs that if you’re not doing better by the following day, he will bring it up again and confront you about what was happening.

The next day, you’re okay, and the following day and the day after that. He’s happy to see your smiling face with no traces of tears in them. He wishes his face mirrored yours. Instead of worrying about you, he’s beginning to worry more about himself. It’s not that being with you makes him sad or that living together for the last week hasn’t been what he has always dreamed about. Being with you was a dream come true. Waking up next to you, cooking meals with you, taking an evening stroll on the beach, and being with you were the best part of returning to Okinawa.

But it was the flashbacks he wasn’t loving.

Images of Riko on the beach, running down the sidewalk. Enjoying her life to the fullest, not knowing this would be the last trip she would ever take because of him.

The second night in the condo was when the nightmare started up again. The same ones he’d been having for years. Riko in the aquarium, the blue hue of the lights around turning red before he was lying down on the street, staring into her lifeless eyes, while her blood-stained mouth told him it was his fault. He hadn’t been fast enough and pushed you out of the way. He had chosen one over the other; those toxic thoughts were the source of the nightmares plaguing him. That also had him stirring in his sleep next to you.

You had been struggling to fall asleep. You and Suguru had been in Okinawa for a week, and you still hadn’t been able to break the news about the cottage to him. That was why you were so upset when you arrived and had been crying a week prior. Eventually, you knew you would have to come clean about it, but you couldn’t do that right now, not when he needed you.

Not wanting to linger on those thoughts any longer, you were about to turn onto your other side when Suguru gasped, yelling your name as he sat up in bed.

“Sugu?!”? You sat up with him, watching his chest. His eyes are brimming with tears. “Hey, I’m right here.” Very gently, you grabbed his thigh, squeezing him, grounding him. “I’m right here with you.”

Suguru breathed heavily and yanked your hand to his chest, holding it there as if he was afraid he would vanish if you didn’t touch him. Scooted towards him, sitting on your knees, watching the adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly settle down. His muscles relaxed, and he watched as the pulse in his throat slowed down. Once he calms down, you lean closer, copying your hand against his cheek.

Leaned into his lips against the palm of your hand. “Sorry.” He pressed another gentle kiss. “Did I wake you?” Shame and embarrassment clouded his eyes as they roamed over your face.

“No, I was already awake.” That seems to make his shoulders relax more. “Were you having a nightmare about me?”

“How did you—?”

“You screamed my name.”

Suguru averts his gaze, biting down on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I—I—uhm—“ your hand leaves his face quickly, grabbing his hand again and squeezing it.

“Talk to me, please.”

Suguru never went into details about his nightmares with you. He only talked about it with his therapist and had mentioned them to Gojo one night when he had been drinking. His therapist had said that it was his conscience. The guilt of what had happened was eating away at him. After increasing his meds, he had encouraged Suguru to talk to his friends about the nightmares, but he had never had the urge to.

Right this second, as he sat down in bed with you. Countless times, you had woken up alone, having to deal with the pain, fear, and memories in the dead of night. Now, it was different. You were with him held. This was why you had agreed to come with him to Okinawa. Even if the nightmares revolved around you, want to talk to anybody else about it

“I have nightmares about the accident over and over again. And it’s not just about Riko—it’s about you too.” Suguru went into details, telling you about the aquarium, Riko, and the street where she had died. In that dream, he described how Riko always blamed him for pushing you out of the way of the moving car. The entire time, you were silent, taking in his words, holding his hand, caressing the back of his knuckles with your thumb. You would give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze whenever his voice would crack or his gaze would linger on the sheets for too long.

You had known his nightmares were terrible, but you never knew how bad they were. Suguru had to suffer with them constantly. Of course, he would have insomnia! But there was one thing about the dreams that didn't make sense.

“Suguru, why do you think you pushed me out of the way?”

Your best friend blinked slowly, looking up from the bed to focus on your face. “Huh?” Confusion was etched into your features. “Be—because I did?” Suguru’s face contorted with confusion as you quickly moved forward, cupping his face in your hands.

“You didn't.” When he says nothing, you feel like your stomach is crawling up your throat. “Oh my god, Suguru, all these years, you seriously thought you had picked me over Riko?” His eyes go wide, and a mixture of relief and confusion swirls in the pit of his stomach. “Suguru, honey, I was across the street. Satoru stole my boba, so I chased him.”

“I—I don't remember that—”

“Of course you don't.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “You were crossing with Riko when the car lost control.” Images of that day flashed through Suguru’s mind. Him walking in front of Riko, grinning back at her on a perfect sunny day. “The second you saw the car coming, you turned around to grab her—” Your eyes watered as you could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. “You wrapped her in your arms, shielding her. But her head hit the crib when you guys hit the ground.”

Hearing you tell him the truth, the details of what happened, brings the memories back. They were fuzzy and distorted, like a television during a horrible thunderstorm, but he could see the picture. You pouted, jumping up and down across the street as Satoru held your boba above his head. You were right; you were nowhere near him when the car lost control. It had just been him, Riko, and Kuroi.

He remembered the screaming and yelling as he heard the blaring car horn. Jumping into action, he grabbed Riko, pulling her into his chest, with his back towards the car. The hit hurt, but he tucked his body as he and Riko took the hit, slamming against the street hard. Everything hurt, and his ears had been ringing, but what mattered the most was that he and Riko were okay.

At least, that's what he had thought until he felt the warmth of spreading blood pooling beneath them.

The room felt like it was spinning as everything hit him at once. He hadn't pushed you out of the way. He tried to save Riko! He had shielded her. He didn't choose you over her.

“I—I tried to save her.”

“Yes, and it wasn't your fault that she passed. You did everything in your power to save her.” you brushed your thumbs over his flushed cheeks, watching as tears streamed down them. “It wasn't your fault.”

That truth, in a way, had set him free. Well, part of him, at least. That night, he lay there with you, watching you sleep, remembering how you screamed his name after he was hit, how you were the first person running towards him as soon as traffic stopped. You had been sobbing, stroking his hair back, holding his hand; you had been the one, holding his hand, sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed.

You, god, it was always you. How was it even possible for him to fall even deeper in love with you? He had to tell you how he felt, but he couldn't just blurt it out; he needed it to be perfect.

A week passed, and you were dragged down the sidewalk, grinning up at your best friend, who was holding your hand as tightly as he could. He was talking you to the aquarium to show you his work on the mural so far, which had been a vast improvement since he always dreaded going. But since last week, he seemed to be doing a bit better.

Just because he had realized that the accident itself was not his fault didn't mean he was going to heal overnight miraculously. It was more like he was a glass of dark water, and you had turned the faucet on, allowing clean water to start flowing in. Over time, the dark water would become more transparent and clearer. Riko and everything that happened here in Okinawa will always be part of Suguru, but thinking about it would be less painful over time.

“Come on, this way!” he grinned, pulling you through the halls and leading you to the area he’d been hired to work on.“I can’t wait to show you.”

“Okay! Okay!” You giggle, gripping his hand tighter as you enter the main aquarium you had been to when you were seventeen on your class trip.

The room had a certain blue hue as blue whales and other fish swam in the tanks around you. A wall on one side of the room had been zoned off with plastic covers, hiding what was going on behind the scenes. Suguru pulled the plastic cover back for you, and as you stepped inside. The second you’re both behind the fronted cover, Suguru turns on a light and points it to the wall.

There in all its well-sketched glory are Riko and the whales. You walk along the wall, fingers gently grazing over her sketched-out form, following the sketch. The wall had to be half a kilometer long, and seeing Suguru’s art on a wall like this was surreal. The pencil work was excellent to see it painted—you stopped in your tracks, taking in the wall.

It wasn’t just Riko, not anymore.

All your friends were there: Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Suguru, and you. Each of your friends was spread out, mixed in with different people, each other except for you and Suguru. The two of you were standing near each other. Seeing you on the wall near your best friend, depicting both of you grinning at each other, made your heart race.

God, you wanted to be with him so bad. You wanted to be more than friends. Especially now, seeing what he had drawn made you realize how badly you wanted to be his girlfriend.

“What do you think?” Suguru asked as he joined your side, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Yeah? The aquarium staff seem to like it, too.” His fingers trace over the pencil markings on the wall. “I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about doing a piece like this.” You watch with bated breath as Suguru runs his thumb over your drawing on the wall. “I have a pretty amazing muse and friend to thank for pushing me.”

Friend.

You swallow hard, clenching your hands tight. Tonight, you would finally take Yuki’s advice and show him how you felt about him. You could do this!

While those thoughts were in your mind, you ran through different scenarios. Suguru was thinking about his plans. Tonight was the night he was going to tell you how he felt. He’s going to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about how much you meant to him. he wasn’t going to allow this façade to continue. Now was the time for honesty.

Honestly, it ended up with you kissing each other the second you made it back to the condo. Your hands tangled in his dark hair, and you kissed him with no remorse while he reciprocated with gentler kisses. You kicked the door shut, moaning into his mouth while he locked the door. You pushed him inside, turning into the bedroom, where you shoved him against the bed.

“Wh-whoa—“ he chuckled nervously, pushing himself on his elbows. “What’s gotten into you—mmhm!” You straddled his hip, kissing him harder, rocking eagerly against his crotch with whimpers and whines. Suguru groaned, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to grab your hips and rock you faster against him. “Y-You break that writer's bl—ahh fuck.”

“Mhmm.” Your pussy twitches against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Mmm~.” Gentle kisses are planted down Suguru’s neck, over and over, down to the collar of his shirt, where your teeth nip at.

“Princess—we should—“

“Shh, just relax.” You pull back, tugging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the ground before you do the same to Suguru.

Fuck, it was hard to relax with you being so seductive. Your perfect, beautiful body rocks and rolls against him, leaving Suguru wholly enamored by how gorgeous you look on top of him. His shaky hands gently grab your hips holding them, and you try with all of your might to rock against his cock.

You fight against his hold; you need him to know how much you care about him. You wanted to be more than just friends. Showing him how you felt was going to be your best bet. What better way to tell him you want to be more than friends than sleeping with him? If it worked for Yuki, surely it would work for you.

Reaching around your back, you unclasp your bra, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the bed, revealing your bare tits. They jiggle with each roll of your hips against his. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips before you slowly trail up the sides of your body. His fingers caress over your sensitive skin before inching further and further up until they cup your breasts.

As his hands gently massage them, your head rocks back while you rut your hips faster against his jeans. His cock throbs hard at your sensual rocking while his thumbs gently rub circles over your nipples, and his fingers knead at your sweet soft breasts. Out of all of the sessions you two had shared, this was by far the most sensual one. This felt real and raw.

Suguru felt it, too, as did how hot and heavy things were getting. He could feel how wet you were through your panties that hid underneath your floral skirt. He could see it in your face, the way your skin flushed, and your eyes rolled back as your hands gripped his pectoral muscles for support as you rolled your hips harder against his throbbing cock. That’s when he knew this wasn’t about your research; this was you taking control, taking what you wanted. He would’ve been happy for you to do that any other time.

But he didn’t want to be a one-time thing.

“Princess.” He began watching as you sat back on the heels of your feet, unbuckling his belt, the clanking of the metal deafening. “Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you pull the zipper to his jeans, tugging them down to his thighs.

“Hey—” his boxers are pulled down.

“Shh—” The Floral skirt is the next to go, flying across the room before your panties join it.

“Hey.”

“Sugu—”

“I can’t do this!”

He shouted, sitting up completely and staring at your naked body as your eyes widened with shock. Did Suguru not want to take this further? Was all of this to help you with your book, like really help you, nothing more than that?

Your chest heaves as your hands cover your breasts while you quickly slide off of his lap. Embarrassment, shame, and Amy of other emotions settle in your heart and stomach as his words repeatedly replay in your mind. This is not what you had anticipated when you sent your plan in motion. You thought that maybe deep down inside, he felt the same way you did.

Your eyes and the inside of your nose begin to burn with tears that you’re trying hard to hold back. What were you even supposed to say in a moment like this? What was the proper etiquette for being turned down by your best friend you had fallen in love with over the years? The only thing you could think was to collect your clothes and leave.

Before you even have a chance to jump off the bed and grab your panties to slide back on, Suguru pulls you back into his arms. Your bare chest is pressed firmly against his. The sudden reconnection of your body makes you inhale sharply as his hands slowly down your back.

“I can’t hook up with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear, Sugu—“

“Stop!” One of his hands rests against the smell of your back while the other grabs you by the back of your head, pressing your forehead firmly against his. “I can’t just hook up with you because I love you!”

Forever Tag List:

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INHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

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[daisybvck]

Hi 👋 I like the idea of your new Barnes family story. Perhaps you could (if you’re comfortable with that) include some breeding / pregnancy kink cause there must be a reason why they got so many kids 😉

My first ever ask, I AM HONORED. Okay so there is definitely a breeding kink, Bucky LOVES, and I mean loves, seeing you swollen with his kids. It makes him feral

When you were pregnant with your first baby, Grant, both you and Bucky were still gathering your bearings on how to navigate you being pregnant, and your body changing. Bucky loved watching your body change to accommodate his child, your hips getting wider and filling out, your tits fatter and sensitive, you. You were glowing with the pregnancy, you were radiant before but now- god. He was scared to hurt you or the baby during sex so he tried to stick to fingering you and eating you but he’d always end up with his cock in you. The sex was MINDBLOWING. He was on you in every way he could be. Seeing you with his kid inside of you made him crumble. Any sanity he had, GONE. He loved being gentle and slowly watching his cock disappear into your warm welcoming cunt, whilst his hand stayed on your belly, feeling the soft kicks from your child.

He never wore a condom before but seeing the result of it, makes him loose his mind. He fucks you so deep and so slow, “I’m going to make sure you stay full, always” he moans and cums so much that it definitely stained the sheets. He has to bite his lip to calm down when he sees you rubbing your belly and speaking to the baby, you being so soft and maternal gets his cock painfully hard. He gets up and lays you down on the couch, he eats you out like a starved man.

He also loved when strangers would come up to you and ask how far along you were and he’d have his hand on your back and one on your bump and he’d answer. “She’s five months along” or “The baby is doing fine kicking around a lot-“ blah blah blah. HE IS JUST SO PROUD TO BE A FATHER!! I just imagine him being so proud and feeling so manly, he feels like nothing will ever top this feeling.

[madhatterbri]

Bet | D.P.

Summary: A She’s All That AU where Damian accepts a bet that he can make fem!reader, who is a jobber or someone stuck at catering into a women’s champion. Thanx :)

Author's Note: Starting the story off with her already a champion. Blame @theworldofotps for the ending.

More of my Damian Priest fics can be found here.

My masterlist can be found here.

Requested by Anon

Taglist: @theworldofotps @plentyoffandoms @brideofinfamy @mrsarcherofinfamy

Time froze the moment Samantha Irvin announced that Y/N was the new women's champion. She stared at the championship belt in amazement. Months ago, this was a distant dream. She couldn't believe her moment finally came. This moment was all thanks to Damian Priest.

Y/N rolled out of the ramp and towards Damian as he waited at the top. Tears streamed down her face as she high five a couple of fans while passing them. The archer of infamy had his arms wide open. In a moment, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Congratulations, I'm so proud of you, mi amor," he muttered in her head. They separated from the hug. The unlikely duo stared back at the ring. Damian grabbed one of her hands and raised it up high.

They disappeared behind the curtain after allowing her to soak in the cheers for a little while longer. The talent in the back congratulated her. She even took a picture with one of her bosses, HHH, to celebrate the occasion. Nothing could ruin this night.

"I'm going to get a shower and change. See you soon," she promised and kissed her boyfriend. Y/N disappeared into the locker room and went to the showers. The cold water felt divine on her sore muscles. Her thoughts wandered on the path that led her here.

WWE hired her as a jobber to put talent over. At first, she was just excited to be getting air time on TV. If wrestling didn't work out, maybe she could have an acting career. Loss after loss, she ate happily until someone noticed her.

Damian informed her that he saw something in her. A spark or passion to want to succeed. Y/N blew him off at first, but he was persistent. After a few weeks, she agreed to let him train her.

Any free time she had was spent with him. They ran together and worked out on the machines. He even helped her with her mic skills. HHH started to give her more chances to show her new skills. She managed to impress him.

As time passed, their relationship started to move from friendly coworkers to something more. After work outs, they would sneak back to his room. At first, it was to soak each other in with the new light that they now saw each other in. Hours were spent staring at the hotel ceiling and just talking about their life and dreams. One night after RAW, they really pushed the boundaries of their relationship.

He kissed her outside his hotel door. That night, there was no talking until they fell asleep. The heat of the moment caught up to them. By the next morning, they were officially a couple. Now, with both of them as champions, they were a power couple. Nothing could ruin this moment for her.

Y/N stopped the water and dressed quickly. She went to the place she left Damian, but he was not around. The men's champion had a match coming up. She wanted to wish him luck before he fought his challenger.

As she walked past others in the back, those that hadn't congratulated her yet did so. She turned a corner and saw Damian talking to JD McDonagh. A normal occurrence given that they were in the same faction together. The words that they spoke felt like a punch to her stomach.

"I thought you were crazy to accept that bet. She was a mess, and now she is champion. It should have been a shoo-in for me to win that money," JD sighed. He started to hand him the money.

"Yeah, man, look, can we keep it under wraps? I don't want her to find out is all," Damian's deep voice caused tears to prick her eyes. She wiped them away quickly and sniffled.

Their eyes widened in shock the moment they saw her. Y/N could swear the color left Damian's face. Hot tears fell down her cheeks. Her heart felt like the organ literally ripped in her chest.

"You never believed in me at all?" She asked. The championship belt on her shoulder weighed heavily on her. All the times they spent together now tainted. "Was sleeping with me part of the bet too?"

"Let's just talk this out. This was before I got to know you. Y/N, you are so talented," Damian complimented to try and save face. She shook her head. The arena felt like it was crashing down on her. She had to leave now.

"Y/N, wait!" Damian called behind her. She scurried away from the heartache. Tears blurred her vision. She didn't notice who could see her until a hand grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Hey, I thought we would see Damian's match together," Rhea offered. It was a pretty common occurrence now. They had become friendly towards the other since Y/N spent more time with Damian. Rhea caught a glimpse of the other's face. "What's wrong?"

"Is this just a bet, too? Was I just some little bet to everyone on Judgment Day?" Y/N demanded.

Rhea shook her head. "A bet? What bet? Darling, what's going on?"

The sound of Damian shouting her name caused Y/N to look back at him. "Why don't you ask him? I'm out of here,"

The crying woman left a stunned Rhea Ripley. The archer of infamy moved to pass Rhea, but Mami stopped him. Her grip on his arm was stronger than a vice. She didn't look like she was in a playing mood.

"What did you do?" Rhea demanded from Damian. He gulped and came clean to her about everything.

[scifibabee]

hey fam, welcome to the November round up of all my favorite fics i read this month!!

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, it's incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March April May June July August September October

you can now also find ALL of the five star fics in my 5 Star Hannigram Fics collection on ao3 :))))

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

without further ado, and in no particular order, let's go!

~

WET by agarina_amigara

Word Count: 5652 Summary: the prompt for day 5 of fcktober: "wet"Post-Fall. The water filtration on the boat sailing Hannibal and Will to freedom sucks ass. Thankfully Will is good with his hands. So is Hannibal.

i desperately need more 'Will being good at fixing boats' fics lolol this was so good!!

Only One Night? by onmywayhome

Word Count: 3203 Summary: It had been 20 minutes of him laying down with his eyes closed, still awake. The only thing that caused his eyes to open was the feeling of his psychiatrist wrapping his arm around his stomach. He pulled Will in closer, Will could hear the faint noise of snoring, ‘Is he asleep?’ he thought to himself, he suddenly felt something poking his backside as Hannibal pushed closer. ‘Oh.’-OR-Hannibal and Will have to share 1 hotel room (and 1 bed ;)) which brings out some intense feelings in both of them

oooooooooookay, i saw the "only one bed" tag and blacked out, love love love love. (it's just PWP, what more do you want from me?)

The Corpse-Angel's Blessing by @dbmars

Word Count: Summary: Will Graham is the omegan prince of the kingdom of Gaulemagne. Despite being the eldest child of the murdered king and queen, he cannot take the throne - the crown is reserved for alphas only, and his brother Matthew will rule once he comes of age. In the meantime, Will and beta princess Alana are under the guardianship of the Regent, their father's first cousin: Frederick Raul de Brûler, Earl of Chilton. Gaulemagne suffers under Chilton's rule. Will's only method of resistance is writing anonymous pamphlets about omegan rights and getting them into the hands of those who can affect change. Chilton knows this brilliant omega is trouble, and arranges a marriage for him with Alpha King Hannibal, the sovereign of Eidermark, the last "civilized" kingdom before the Northern Wastes - a tundraland filled with dangerous nomads uniting under the banner of a man calling himself the Great Red Dragon. Will is sold to King Hannibal the Vicious, traded along with a herd of cattle and casks of wine for weapons and armor. He travels to Eidermark determined to stand up for his beliefs and resist any way he can. And yet... there is more to King Hannibal than anyone knows...

this was a TREAT!!! (idk what else i'd be expecting from dbmars though) the tag 'hannigram is very very horny for eachother but they have to wait for the wedding' is what initially got me and wowow.

Safehome by @dbmars

Word Count: 27798 Summary: On the run, Will and Hannibal lay low for a month in a safehouse in rural Iowa.“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite.”Will’s mind railed against the words. His resistance was powerful at first, like the failure of a mighty dam holding back a river, the water pounding down to the valley below. No. Of course not. Hannibal had to pay for what he’d done to Abigail Hobbs. Jack Crawford was his friend and on the right side of the law. The plan to betray Hannibal would go down exactly as they’d plotted together.But then...Will opened his mouth to artfully refuse.Instead, he heard himself say, “Let’s go.”This is a finished, polished version of my DoMAYstic 2023 prompt challenge completed with twitter x threads. I was saving it to publish in May of 2024 with more smut and better writing, and then suddenly I realized IT'S JUNE AND I FORGOT TO POST IT.So, anyway. If you're looking for a comfort fic, this is pretty damn sweet. And if you've ever lived in the Midwest, well... you get it.

oh oh oh oh this was so freaking good. it was beautiful, it was poignant, it felt like home (hi hello, i am from the upper midwest), it felt like a hug. i love them so much.

Strangers with History by sourweather

Word Count: 2843 Summary: Will and Hannibal both like to visit a website that allows them to sext with random, anonymous strangers. What are the odds they would match with each other?It had to happen eventually.

I want like… 80k words of Will and Hanni sexting each other anonymously while normal s1 events are happening, you know? Or s2.

Night Terrors by @gnawing-suspicion

Word Count: 2665 Summary: Will Graham wakes up from a sex dream about his therapist. It throws off his whole morning.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I AM DECEASED THIS WAS SO HOT. the entire series is fucking AMAZING, @gnawing-suspicion bb you're amazing <3

Birthday Wish by Redeye17

Word Count: 5927 Summary: Will makes an impulsive wish and is dismayed to find it granted by the gods of love.-"I feel it's pertinent to ask you what exactly you wished for last night."Will rapidly mentally calculates how to explain the situation. He certainly hadn’t fucking wished to be a woman, but he has to admit that it is perhaps an easier solution to his wish than the logistical hurdles that carrying a baby in his male body would present."I can't tell you. If I do, it won't come true," Will mumbles out against Hannibal’s chest after a moment's hesitation.

DELICIOUS

Quarantined by KatherineKrawl

Word Count: 9102 Summary: En route to Kansas City for a murder case, Hannibal and Will get an urgent call from Jack, telling them to self-quarantine immediately in a small cabin near the woods. Shopping at Walmart, one double bed and no suits will bring them both a lot of 'firsts'.-“Perhaps we could...” and before Will could turn, an arm extended before his chest to pick a bottle from the pile. “...forgo this for the coming weeks?”Hannibal had appeared beside him, and Will saw the cart he was dragging after himself filled to the brim with cans, bags, bottles and packages. Toilet paper, too.Hannibal had been smart rather than stubborn by forgoing the fresh, perishable produce, and Will was relieved to see it. The look in those amber eyes, however, was... haunting.“That's my aftershave,” Will frowned, as he watched the glass bottle with the little blue ship being removed from the basket.

Enough time has passed since those initial days of the pandemic that this was actual perfection. I loved this so freaking much. And the marshmallow bed. Naturally.

responsible, forever, for what you have tamed by multifandom_fanfic_writer

Word Count: 6689 Summary: There was only one bed.

ONLY ONE BED. God, this was perfect.

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi

Word Count: 21340 Summary: AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.

Oh this was excellent. This dialogue here was TOP NOTCH.

If i went to touch you now (what would you do?) by LumusWinter

Word Count: 1944 Summary: Will tries to make Hannibal jealous. Needless to say, it works. Set during the second half of season 2.

This was hot PWP, love Will Graham being a size queen.

SEMI-BUTLER by TheSeaVoices

Word Count: 23714 Summary: A modern day Master/servant Hannigram AU. This idea came to me whilst working (literally on my hands and knees applying gold leaf) in one of the extraordinary Cheshire mansions I find myself in surprisingly regularly. I am continually surprised by the inexplicably loyal staff managers (nobody ever says the word BUTLER - but they are), proudly servile and selfless.Will inherits such a property in North West England, complete with staff and an interesting sort-of-butler who enjoys his work. REALLY enjoys his work.Also inspired by Jeeves and Wooster which I'm currently re-reading and loving, and all butlers everywhere. Oh, and Men On Edge :)Encouragement, ideas and pointers have really helped, thanks to:@weconqueratdawn@thecountessolivia@zigzagwanderer@aviran007@zacharybosch@fragile-teacup (Mrs_Gene_Hunt)

This was so OOC for Hannibal and Will, BUT i loved them anyway, and the sheer creativity when it came to the smut ramped this up to five stars for me!

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick

Word Count: 19363 Summary: In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?

Will Graham showing off for Hannibal on the cameras Hannibal set up without telling Will? God, this was perfect.

It takes four by TheRosetteThief

Word Count: 4893 Summary: Adam confesses that he has a dirty fantasy to Hannibal. Hannibal talks him into letting him help him act it out with Will and Nigel.It's really just shameless foursome smut written for my lovely friends.

okay yes this is technically not just hannigram, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA good lord, I think if I could be Adam in this scenario, that would fix me.

The Pleasure Was Ours by wyldefire

Word Count: 4215 Summary: “Hear that, Han? Fucking your boy full. He fucking loves my cock.” Nigel teased, reaching up and tweaking at a nipple, nearly drawing a cry from Will’s lips. “Hush. Go on, Will. What else?” Hannibal replied, unfazed by his brother’s taunts. “And… And… I need… I need more. Fuck, Hannibal, I need more. I need more. Please.” Will begged. “What do you need, William?” Hannibal inquired. “You.”

Once again, not strictly Hannigram but... yeah, I'll see myself out. Trans Will in this was perfect.

A Joy Hard Learned in Winter was the Warming of the Bed by omnilegent

Word Count: 2709 Summary: The doctor took the key and opened the door, revealing a pretty standard motel room. Small en-suite with the light still on, terrible TV leaning precariously off the wall, clean but worn out to almost complete smoothness carpet. And only one bed.Ah.‘Adequate.’ Hannibal sniffed, hanging his coat up and feeling the fluffiness (or lack thereof) of the pillows.‘Yeah?’ Will asked, nervous that Hannibal was going to demand another room out of disgust.‘It’s only a night, after all.’ He gave Will a look, fond with a teasing twinkle that he couldn’t quite understand. ‘Unless you would be uncomfortable?’‘No!’ Will replied all too fast. ‘No. Better than the car.’ He tried to quip, but Hannibal’s smirk grew toothy.‘I assure you, I will keep you far warmer than the car heaters can.’—————The boys get stuck in a snowstorm and have to stay in a motel - but guess what? There was only one bed!

THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 2902 Summary: Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.

So this is a thing now for me, I guess!!!

The Business of Pleasure by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 23888 Summary: Hannibal hires a hooker with the intention of eating him after he’s done fucking him.His plans change when he sees the hooker.

Give me moreeeeeeeeeeeeee.

A Little Unfinished Business by Magnetism_bind

Word Count: 26680 Summary: Ten years later Will Graham returns to Baltimore.

Sequel to The Business of Pleasure. Just as good.

Sweatpants by mattHughdancy

Word Count: 11736 Summary: It's gray sweatpant season and Will wears some for Reasons. Poor Hannibal is having a *hard* time.

Gimme more of the gray sweatpants please. Tbh me and Hannibal are very much on the same page here.

Wringing a Rock Dry by McRibFarewellTour

Word Count: 4556 Summary: (Between S2 and S3)Will’s sick. Sick enough that he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. Aware that winning their game is no longer an option, he decides to change the rules and go see Hannibal in prison.Hannibal does not appreciate this move.

OUCH. I've rec'd this one before, but I did a reread and it is just as good as it was the first (several) times!!!

~

and that's it for this month!! see y'all next month for the December rec list :)