#I mean I totally get why they softened him up the way it’s in the novel it really wouldn’t fly in this show - maybe a jdrama

[dangermousie]

Everyone on MDL watching My Stand-In ep 4: OMG Ming is TOO toxic!

Me, who read the novel: OMG Ming is not toxic ENOUGH!

😂😂😂

[mommypieck]

⌗︙・how jjk men like it ⸜⸜・

gojo

"hold on tight, baby." gojo whispers into your ear when your back presses against the door. he holds you by your thighs, bouncing you on his cock. he loves when he gets to pick you up and manhandle you the way he likes it. maybe it's your size maybe it's because he likes when you whine about his dropping you. he is the strongest after all - the best. he adores how well you take his cock, every inch of him seated in your tiny pussy. your boobs bounce with every thrust he makes, showing how powerful his thrusts are. you claw on gojo's back for support, making him smile. he knows you're about to leave marks all over his back for his friends to see. you always mark him up without knowing.

"are you gonna cum on my cock?" he asks you, dragging your pussy on the full size of his cock. he holds you up before dropping you down all the way. you nod, almost screaming when his pace speeds.

"okay, love. cum on this cock."

geto

his hands hold your ass as you bounce on his cock. your hips go up and down with geto's help from time to time. he's big and it took you a long time before you could fit him all the way in this position, that's why geto's favorite.

"do your legs hurt already?" geto asks when he notices you slowing down. you shake your head - a lie, bouncing on his cock with the stamina you have left. his eyes soften, you're tired already and yet you're still not whining and drooling from his cock.

"let me help you." he says, his hands hugging your middle. geto thrusts his cock in with all he has, making you fall on his chest. he's mean and he uses your pussy as his personal toy and you can't help but to moan and whine. as much as he loves fucking you like this, sometimes he wishes he would see his cock going inside of you, inside of your tiny pussy. you feel like a rag doll in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants to you.

toji

your face buries into the pillow as toji fucks you from behind. his big hands are on your ass, squeezing in while his cock destroys your insides. he likes fucking you like this because he sees your whole ass. he loves your ass so much and when he doesn't get to fuck it, he likes to watch it jiggle. he's much bigger than you and his thrusts feel like your whole body is being tossed around. he pulls out before pushing his entire length into you again. your pussy stretches almost painfully around him but he doesn't care, it's his pussy and he gets to fuck it how he likes.

"feeling good?" he laughs when you let you a slutty moan. he knows you love being fucked like this by how wet your pussy is. he angles his cock a bit, ramming it straight to your needy spot. tears fill your eyes, he's too good at this.

"you gonna squirt on my cock?" he trained you to be a good squirter, creaming on his cock every time he said so. he doesn't have to be afraid you won't because he's too good at what he's doing.

nanami

"i love how you feel." nanami moans into your ear, his hips fucking into you with passion. his body lays softly on top of yours while you have your legs wrapped around his body. he kisses you, speeding up his thrusts. you whine a little, sometimes you feel like he's too big for you. he has other plans with you though, he wants you to get used to his big cock. his hand travels to your neck and he thrusts in harder than before. you yelp but you let him take what's his. he kisses all over you, his hips suddenly ramming into your little pussy. you moan and whine, most of the time he's sweet but sometimes he makes you totally fall apart.

"do you like it like this?" he asks, even when he's breaking you, he's so considerate of how you feel. you nod, it's something new but you absolutely love it. he loves this position because he gets to be close to you and worship your body, but it also helps him making you into a drooling mess.

"so beautiful, you take it so well."

[erwinsvow]

little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[saetoru]

i just know the next time you see suguru he’s like “oh hey! it’s the guy/girl who unfollowed me! fancy seeing you here 😒” because he’s just as petty as satoru’s ass. best friend match made in heaven 💀

i’m writing this for the sake of fun i’m not tagging (bc how do you tag platonic shit ??) but yeah … platonic! suguru + reader ft. rb! gojo (briefly)

seeing suguru is….well, awkward to say the least.

you hope for a moment that maybe he’ll ignore the fact that you removed him off of everything—instagram, twitter, snapchat, even venmo (he and satoru had a good laugh about that, much to your dismay.) but suguru is suguru and there is a reason why he gets along so well with satoru—and that’s because they’re equally as petty.

unfortunately.

“oh, hey,” he drawls, staring at his nails as his lips purse when you walk up, “it’s you. where do i know you from again? oh, right. i used to follow you on socials, didn’t i? yeah, that was a while ago. how’ve you been, stranger?”

“suguru, it’s been eight days,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“oh so we’re on first name basis? i didn’t realize—most of the people i’m on first name basis with follow me.”

“i didn’t have a choice,” you pout—and satoru (who for once doesn’t defend you) makes himself present from the distance as he calls out you definitely had a choice!

you sigh, deflating.

“i’m sorry i removed you from instagram,” you mumble. suguru raises a brow, unimpressed. “and twitter. and snap.”

“and?” he presses, making you huff in embarrassment and satoru chuckle in glee.

“….and venmo,” you say quietly. suguru snorts—it’s a good sign, at least.

“what was i gonna do? message you on venmo? please send me money for breaking my friend’s heart,” he mocks, making you pout deeper. yeah, you think, satoru and suguru are a match made in heaven—maybe satoru should date him instead of you.

“it’s not like i wanted to,” you say quietly, “i was in a tough spot.”

suguru is good natured, always has been. you used to think that being satoru’s best friend since childhood would make him susceptible to blindly picking your boyfriend’s side—but he’s not like that. he’s reasonable, defends you when he sees fit even if it means disagreeing with satoru. and he’s kind, dependable, treats you like family, looks out for you just like he does satoru.

suguru isn’t just your boyfriend’s best friend—he’s more than that to you. and when his face softens at your dejected one, you know he feels the same way.

“i know,” he says gently, flicking your forehead with that affectionate smile he always throws you, “that old man had it out for you. but i didn’t do anything. why did i have to get roped in?”

“glad to know you’d still follow my ex if we broke up,” satoru grumbles from the side, walking up to you both with a pile of sweets in his hands (which is an ungodly amount for just one person—and you know he intends to eat it all alone.)

“well, i didn’t want to make toru more sad,” you defend, “he seemed to be pretty in his feels. marvin’s room said enough.”

“i was about to remove him too after that one,” suguru crinkles his nose—which only makes satoru whine more about how you both can’t be mean together now! and how his feelings are still sensitive!

“that was terrible,” you snort, agreeing.

“anyway, can i maybe get my follow privileges back,” suguru raises a brow expectantly, crossing his arms, “you guys are back together and you still haven’t added me on anything. that’s foul.”

“i was nervous,” you defend through a whine, “what if you were mad?”

“i am mad,” he grumbles, “i was innocent.”

“i’m sorry suguru,” you pat his arm, “you’re right, it’s not your fault you’re stuck with satoru. he has no other friends.”

“huh? i have shoko!” satoru insists, gasping, “and nanami! and—”

“you’re right,” suguru sighs and nods, cutting satoru off, “if i drop him, he’ll be a loner. i’m stuck.”

satoru looks wounded. maybe heartbroken all over again, in fact. “wha—hey! you totally said i’m better off when i was first dumped! why are you acting like—”

“you and i are kind of the same,” you sigh playfully, “stuck with satoru for good. we’ll need to be each other’s support systems. rough times are ahead.”

“we can start with following each other back on socials, maybe,” he huffs, making you giggle lightly. and then he smiles, bringing you into a gentle hug, “glad you’re back. missed you.”

“thanks,” you mumble, “i missed you too.”

“can i join the hug?” satoru whines from behind, “i was the real victim here!”

suguru is so babie. bestest friend ever.

[sillysowa]

BOYFRIEND HOBIE BROWN HCS

PARTS: (1) (2)

fluff, slightly suggestive, angst

If you’re a spider person and Hobie hasn’t seen you for a long time, he runs at you like he’s going to hug you, only to duck down, grab you by your legs and flip you over his shoulder, shouting to Gwen and the others that there’s a villain on the loose.

Probably throws shit at you to get your attention—straw and gum wrappers, small rocks, maybe even food. He’s not a complete hooligan but he loves fucking with you. Adding to that, he totally throws pebbles at your window to get your attention when he comes over.

An absolute menace at catching things in his mouth. If you ever open up a bag of gummies, small chips, or literally anything bite sized, he instantly hollers at you to toss one up in the air saying he can absolutely catch it in his mouth no matter what—its the truth.

Loves being around people who are outspoken and speak their truth because It’s so refreshing for him. Likes to sit back and smile as you chew someones ear off (probably Miguel). He absolutely gets your attention the moment a pushy girl flirts with him just to watch the show.

Does your hair for you. I just know Hobie knows what he’s doing. Puts punk-style accessories in it.

Grabs your sleeve or hands when you’re both laughing your asses off because if he falls down he’s taking you with him.

I think he’s as touchy as he is because he’s so fucking touch starved. He’s kind of nervous to initiate intimacy with you when you first date because he doesn’t want to fuck it up or seem weird,

“I can’t remember the last time I felt like this…” He had whispered after your first time together, gently rubbing his hands up and down your back as you laid with him.

Makes you pinky promise you’ll be safe whenever you two have to be away from each other. He absolutely swears by and he holds eye contact with you the entire time, scanning you over like there’s some way he can protect you just by his gaze. If you’re a reckless fighter, Hobie understands how dangerous your missions could be. He himself is a messy, crazy, fighter. He trusts you, but he can’t stomach the thought of you getting hurt, that’s why he values something as simple as a pinky promise,

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tried to not worry you with his emotional struggles at the start of your relationship but that didn’t last long—you were adamant that he could lean on you the same way you lean on him,

“I can hear you crying, Hobie.” You’d said in the dark night as Hobie gently cried beside you, turning to face you with a broken and defeated look on his face.

“M’sorry...didn’t mean to wake you…” He instantly softened, letting you hold him in your sweet embrace. He closed his teary eyes and nuzzled his face into your neck as you whispered to him,

“Don’t be sorry, Hobes…I’m always here for you no matter what you’re going through…”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[princessbrunette]

mean brother’s bsf ! rafe who says he has to go to the bathroom while he’s over at your house playing video games w ur brother but instead walks to ur room and starts fucking u :((

𓍢ִ໋🪷˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🦢

you can always hear the group of them — rowdy and loud, yelling at the tv whilst they play the game, or watch some kind of sport that you yourself had no interest in. you had no idea why your brother refused to ever close his door, especially when he had friends round— they were so damn loud.

you hear rafes voice in the hallway and it makes your heart rate spike, your brothers friend calling something into the room as he leaves it, the boys exploding into laughter. you wondered if he’d stop by today, like he did every time — or if he’d pass you by and act like you don’t exist, something he has also demonstrated he is capable of doing when your brothers around.

it had happened only earlier, coming home from your pilates class in your cute little get up which usually you knew rafe would be all over— the boy stood in the kitchen, chatting to your brother when you arrived home.

“hi!” you chirp politely, happy to see him there, knowing what it meant for you. rafe barely glanced— offering you a “hey.” before continuing on his conversation. you couldn’t help but let your face fall. you knew he couldn’t give you much attention infront of your big brother, not wanting to draw suspicion— but just a hey was rude, impolite even.

you hear your door creak open and you don’t turn to look, playing nonchalant as you lay on your stomach on your bed, flipping through a book. he’s careful to close the door again, taking in the sight of you laying there, more importantly the sight of your ass cheeks spilling from your pyjama shorts.

“did you miss me?” he drawls, taking a step closer and you spare a glance over your shoulder, playing like you didn’t.

“oh, hey.” you repeat his greeting from earlier boredly. it was petty, sure— but unfortunately, you were crazy about rafe. you wanted him to know you were a little peeved.

“that all i get, hey?” he sounds amused, dumb and part-lipped as he steps a little closer, fingers tickling your ankle which makes your leg jerk out, nearly kicking him.

“well that’s all i got earlier.” you flip a page, pretending to be totally disinterested in the conversation. you hear him still, breathing as he tries to recollect the moment.

“i dont — i-i don’t understand. what’s this about?” he asks, already irritated with the way you aren’t turning around to look at him. you sigh, sitting up and spinning around to face him. he didn’t get to be mad, best to nip it in the bud.

“i said hi to you and you acted like you didn’t even know me.” you pout immaturely, running your fingers along the bed to avoid his eyes. his eyes widen, hands spreading at his side in incredulity.

“your brother was there. fuck you expect, me to stick my tongue down your throat and slide a finger in your ass whilst he’s just standing there? i — i don’t —”

“no! just… you didn’t even look at me.” you sigh and he drops his hands, skulking over to stand right over you at the edge of the bed. he places his large hands on your cheeks, lifting your sulky gaze to his.

“‘cus if i did, id probably get all riled up… you don’t want that, right? infront of big bro?” he softens, but there’s something conniving about his tone.

“no.” you sigh and he nods in approval.

“right. i just had to play it cool. yeah?” he clarified slowly, like you’re a little dumb.

you blink up at him, and he gives in, bending down to press his lips to yours, the familiar taste of his tongue integrating into your mouth as you hum, visibly relaxing into the kiss.

“i did miss you.” you whisper, and he prods at your shoulder to encourage you to lie back.

“and i told everyone i had to take a phone call outside, so we haven’t got long… you wanna take these shorts off for me or am i gonna have to rip ‘em off like last time n’have you cryin’ at me again?”

five minutes in, and it’s increasingly harder to stay quiet. he’s mounted you, an obscene and degrading sight for anyone that would accidentally stumble upon it. your legs were up by his shoulders, cock nestled deep inside you as presses his lips together, stifling the little breathy groans from the back of his throat.

“m—my bed, its creaking!” you mewl, cunt tightening when he slides a large hand up the back of your thigh to the crevice of your knee, keeping it raised.

“those suckers aren’t listening. stop— stop thinkin’ bout that, yeah? look at me. focus on me.”

𓍢ִ໋🪷˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🦢

[dantakeyoman]

I would reallyy love if you could write about how when the Sully family reaches the new tribe all of the Metkayina girls are trying really hard to get Neteyam to notice them (Cause you know he's the oldest, a good warrior and is gonna be a leader soon) but they dont know he already has a mate and the reader gets jealous. So neteyam has to comfort her and when she realizes she is being silly and has nothing to worry about...this one metkayina girl really pushes it....(im talking getting touchy with neteyam, always finding ways to get him alone and is rude to the reader) and she loses her absolute shit and you can decide what she does but i want it to be very possessive like behavior😏 sorry this is long😅

Metkayina Girls Start Falling At Neteyam's Feet and You, His Mate, Get Jealous (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: a story of jealousy with aa twist, these girls are really shameless, Kiri and Lo'ak duo, sorry im posting so late, my stomach actually really hurts rn, but not writing for so long has been driving me crazy, anyway, enjoy <3 ( i barfed in my mouth a little bit writing some of this cringey shit )

"Humans?! That must've been so scary for you! What happened next?" Leyelu asked as she stretched, laying herself stomach-down in the sand in front of Neteyam, batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah, did you fight them? I'm sure you did, since you are such a strong warrior," Nayat smiled, scooching her seat closer to the boy.

"Um...well, I didn't-." "Impossible. I can imagine you swooping in and saving your family. All heroic-like," Srraza smirked, openly raking her eyes up and down Neteyam's body, not caring how uncomfortable he looked.

Their shameless display made you want to vomit, and possibly scream, at the same time.

There were a total of three girls. Leyelu, Nayat, and Srraza. And all were practically throwing themselves at Neteyam.

It had been about a week and some change since you and the Sullys arrived at Awa'atlu. And every day, without fail, these girls managed to tail Neteyam, following him and showering him in praise whenever they could.

You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before one of them, or all three, came barging in with some fake excuse of a heavy basket they needed help lifting or a boat they needed help loading.

You knew Neteyam never entertained their advances, and were thankful for it.

But being his mate, you couldn't help but feel frustrated. (and maybe a little jealous)

"If you scowl any harder, it's going to become permanent," Kiri playfully warned, your face amusing her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you curtly answered, tearing your eyes away from the scene angrily.

"Yes. I'm fine is stretched tightly across your face right now," Lo'ak smirked from his spot in the sand, hands behind his head as he subathed.

"(y/n), I hope you know that Neteyam would never-." "I know," you sighed, already guessing what Kiri was going to say.

"I trust Neteyam completely. It's just-."

You couldn't finish the sentence. It was embarrassing.

"Just what?" Lo'ak asked, ears perking in intrigue.

"Give her a minute," Kiri shushed, smacking him in the arm, earning an annoyed ow! from the boy.

"It's not that I'm scared Neteyam will leave me. It is just...I don't see why he won't," you started, staring down at your feet in shame.

Kiri and Lo'ak both whipped their heads towards you in disbelief, their expressions contorting into ones of confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lo'ak asked, confused.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri scolded.

She was thinking the same thing, but he could've been a little easier on the delivery.

"Look at them," you sighed, holding out your hand to the girls, who were still fake listening to Neteyam's story.

"Leyelu's father is one of the best hunters in the clan, only second to Tonowari. Nayat's mother is incredibly skilled on the loom, who is now teaching Nayat everthing she knows. For Eywa's sake, Srraza is studying under Ronal to be a healer."

The brother ans sister's expressions slowly softened, the meaning behind your words now coming to light.

"You are the best dancer the Omaticaya have ever seen. And the best the Metkayina have seen, as well," Kiri tried to comfort, a warm smile on her face.

"Oh, yes, because dancing can help me hunt for food. And dancing can help me make clothes. Let's not forget, it can help me heal as well," you sarcastically agreed, snippy.

Kiri sighed.

She didn't take it to heart, not one bit. She understood your frustration.

"They all have spent their years learning skills that can be of use, be important. All I have to show for mine are a couple of dance moves."

Lo'ak looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it until you were finished.

"And the best part of it is they are all gorgeous, the most sought after girls in this village. And I'm just...me."

Kiri felt her heart ache.

She had no idea you had been feeling this way this whole time.

She thought it was just a small case of jealousy. But it seemed to be much deeper than that.

"So, no. I'm not frustrated or scared of Neteyam leaving me. I am frustrated and scared because he has every reason to."

You turned back to the scene, only to see Leyelu resting her hands on Neteyam's chest, leaning into his face.

"Hey, Neteyam. Have you ever given thought to who could possibly be your mate?" she asked with a smirk, peering up at him through her beautiful eyelashes.

It was as if you didn't even exist.

"(y/n), wai-." But you ignored Kiri, abruptly standing up, not wanting to watch the scene any longer.

"Dammit, (y/n)! Sit down and look," Lo'ak groaned, roughly pulling you back down and turning your face to watch Neteyam.

"Do not touch me," Neteyam sternly ordered, grabbing the girl's wrists and pulling her hands of him, harshly.

"I know that you know I already have a mate. And you trying to make advances on me while knowing that is incredibly disrespectful."

The girls were giving him puppy dog eyes, as if that would guilt him into stopping.

It made you gag.

"I do not appreciate how you've been disregarding (y/n) this entire week. Especially when she has done nothing to you."

"That's exactly the point. She does nothing. She is just there with you. You two do not even act like mates," Srraza scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"That is true. I never see you two hug, or kiss, or embrace each other romantically at all," Nayat agreed.

"Because any time I get alone with her is interrupted by you three!" Neteyam exclaimed, annoyed.

His sudden burst shocked you.

You didn't know he felt this.

"I only get time to myself every once in a while, and I like to spend it with (y/n). But ever since I've gotten here, you three have used every mean under the sun to keep that from happening. For Eywa's sake, that was what I was on my way to do now before you all came along!"

"But why? She doesn't hunt, she doesn't loom, she doesn't heal, she can't even carry a tune. She's boring, plain. Why would you willingly want to spend time with her?" Leyelu asked, cocking an eyebrow s she crossed her arms.

Ouch.

"That's why you look like a dead fish, bitch!" Lo'ak loudly called, making you and Kiri die in snickers.

The girl whipped around, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri tried to scold, but couldn't through her laughter.

"It's true! If her eyes were any farther apart, she'd be able to see the back of her head," he huffed.

You were his friend. And he didn't like people talking shit about you.

Meanwhile, Neteyam was using every ounce of his strength to not bare his teeth at the girl.

"I don't care about what she can't do. I love what she can. She's a phenomenal dancer, and has forgotten more moves than you three will ever learn. She's funny, she's kind, she's caring, the farthest thing from boring. And her beauty makes the three of you look like a patch wet sand. I am lucky to call her my mate, and if you all would excuse me, I'm going to spend the rest of the day with her," Neteyam angrily corrected, pushing past them and walking towards you.

And as he drew closer, you smiled, wider than you had in a while.

You felt foolish for thinking he could do better than you.

Especially after he just confessed that he believed he could do no better than you.

It made you feel happy, and loved, and secure in your relationship.

There was no one that could take your place because you were the place, and the only one who could ever be it.

And now knowing that fact, sent you over the moon.

…

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm, @adavenus, @sweetdayme4427, @lilac13, @torchbearerkyle, @dazedshoon, @rovckwell, @wonieee, @0710khj, @multifandomreader73, @kadu-5607, @la-cey, @roseazura, @sophiejiro, @angelbeari, @bludyl

[won4kiss]

𖠵 . ׅ ࣪ ⌇𝑀𝐴GN𝐸𝑇IC

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 bad boy! 𝑙ee heeseung x 𝑓! reader. 𝒢enre fluff. 𝓢ynopsis. in which one single detention session with lee heeseung changes everything ! 𝑤𝑐 𐙚ㅤㅤ 873 ⸝⸝ not edited, kissing, skinship ⸝⸝ ୭ৎ — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂 ᥫ᭡

PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG ! 𓂃

GROWING UP, YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN THE GOLDEN GIRL. — completely on the top of your all your classes, effortlessly charming, and admired by everyone at school.

heeseung, on the other hand, was the bad influence type boy with a magnetic allure that drew whispers and gazes wherever he went, even having his own fan club.

your paths had rarely crossed throughout all of high school until that fateful afternoon when you found yourself in the same detention room, sentenced to spend an hour together.

the moment you saw lee heeseung in the room, you knew it was going to be one long hour for you. — more under cut !

heeseung leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable as he watched you cautiously take a seat across from him.

"no way— if it isn’t our little golden girl, y/n!" he drawled, breaking the silence with a smirk.

"what trouble did you get yourself into, walking into class two seconds late?"

you shot him a playful glare, feeling a rush of adrenaline at his sudden proximity.

"maybe i just wanted to see what the bad boy was up to,"

you countered, with the boldness of your words, even surprising yourself as you muttered the words out.

his smirk widened into a grin, somehow resembling a cheshire cat as his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"curiosity killed the cat, you know."

but despite his teasing demeanor, there was a flicker of something in his eyes when he let out that genuine smile — a vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat.

and a smile you’re sure you haven’t seen in your four years of attending school together.

as the minutes passed, you surprisingly found yourselves sharing funny stories, telling jokes, and learning unexpected common ground about each other.

you quickly realized after that hour with lee heeseung, he wasn't just the bad boy; he was witty, perceptive, knee-slapping hilarious and somehow very kind beneath his tough exterior.

when the bell signaling the end of detention finally rang, you both hesitated, reluctant to part ways after bonding so well, you both felt a connection you just couldn’t ignore.

"same time tomorrow?" heeseung asked nervously, a hint of hope painting his tone.

you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face.

"well, why not? but only if you promise to behave not to get into too much trouble before then."

heeseung chuckled, a deep, magical sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"deal."

over the following days, your secret meetings in detention became the highlight of your everyday routine.

you laughed together, quarrelled over dumb things, and slowly unraveled the layers of each other's personalities.

the golden girl and the bad boy— total opposites yet you two couldn’t possibly deny that you drawn to each other like magnets.

on a rainy afternoon, as you sat together in comfortable silence, heeseung turned to you with a deep look in his eyes that made your breath twitch.

"you know," he began softly,

"i used to think being the local delinquent was my only role in this world. but then i met you, and suddenly, everything feels… different."

your heart raced, literally feeling it pump in your chest as his words hung in the air, charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

without thinking, you reached out and intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the electric warmth of his touch against your skin.

heeseung's gaze softened at the sight as he let out a soft smile, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"i don't want to be the bad boy anymore,"

he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"not if it means i can't be with you."

in that very moment, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the strong intensity of your connection.

with a surge of courage and impulse, you leaned in, cupping his cheeks gently and pressed your lips to his, almost feeling like a silent confession, a promise.

heeseung responded eagerly, his kiss gentle yet filled with a passion that ignited a fire within you.

time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the feeling of your body’s pressed together and souls intertwined.

the weight of unspoken words and shared feelings finally making its way out in the sweetness of your embrace.

when you finally pull apart, breathless and cheeks flushed pink, heeseung leans in once again and smiles against your lips.

a smile that signified and spoke of newfound possibilities and a future together filled with sweet moments like this.

"i think i'm done being the bad boy," he murmured, his voice tinged with a certain softness and wonder.

“really?” you asked with a hint of amusement on your face.

"mmh, because with you, i’ve finally found something worth being good for."

you let out a soft grin as you leaned into his embrace once again, the rain tapping softly against the windows, the rain blocking out your intimacy and vulnerability you could only share with each other out from the rest of the world.

you knew that this— whatever it was between you, was just the beginning of a love story written in whispers and stolen kisses.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip

[its-avalon-08]

can i request a logan x reader: reader sees his ex at the paddock one day and gets insecure thinking he invited her and leaves but it turns out the ex is now dating a mechanic from another team or something like that…

just a silly idea i had and it’s totally ok if u don’t feel 100% comfortable doing it! and btw i love your writing sm

my ride or die (ls2)

✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader

✦ genre - comfort, tears, angst

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race excitement as Y/N made her way toward Logan's garage. She spotted Logan talking with his team, a confident smile on his face. Just as she was about to call out to him, her eyes landed on a familiar figure – Emily, Logan's ex, standing a few feet away, chatting and laughing with some team members.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Why is she here?" she muttered under her breath, feeling a surge of confusion and anxiety. She approached Logan, her voice slightly shaky. "Logan, look who's here," she said, pointing discreetly toward Emily.

Logan, engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, glanced in the direction she pointed and, without really paying attention, smiled and nodded. "Yeah, great," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his discussion.

Y/N's stomach dropped. His casual reaction felt like a confirmation. She took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts. "He invited her," she whispered to herself, feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal. She turned on her heel and started walking quickly toward the exit, her emotions swirling.

Logan finished his conversation and turned to look for Y/N, but she was already gone. His heart rate quickened as he realized something was wrong. He began to search the paddock, asking people if they had seen her.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N?" Logan asked one of the engineers.

"No, man, not for a while," the engineer replied, shaking his head.

Logan's worry deepened. He pulled out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He ran towards the parking area, hoping to catch her before she drove off.

Y/N stormed out of the paddock, muttering to herself as she headed toward her car. "Of course she'd show up… flaunting herself around… why did he have to invite her?" She tried to keep her tears at bay, but her eyes were already glossy with emotion.

As she reached for her car door, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She turned around to see Logan, his face etched with concern. "Y/N, what's going on? Why are you leaving?"

Y/N pulled her hand away, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. "Logan, did you invite her? Did you invite Emily here?"

Logan's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I didn't invite her. Why would you think that?"

Tears finally spilled over as Y/N looked at him, her voice breaking. "Because she's here, Logan! And she's a model, she's perfect, and she always flirted with you even after you two broke up. How am I supposed to feel?"

Logan stepped closer, reaching out to hold her shoulders gently. "Y/N, listen to me. Emily is not here for me. She's here because she's dating a mechanic from Haas. I swear, I didn't even know she was coming."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and insecurity. "But she's so… perfect. How can I compete with that? She's glamorous and confident, and I'm just… me."

Logan's expression softened, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to compete with anyone. You are more than enough for me. I love you for who you are, not because of what you look like or what you do."

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. "It's just hard, Logan. She made me feel so small, like I wasn't good enough for you."

Logan held her even tighter, his voice gentle but firm. "You are more than good enough, Y/N. Emily is in the past. She doesn't matter to me. You do. I love you, and I want to be with you. Not her, not anyone else. You."

Y/N sniffled, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "You really mean that?"

Logan nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I really mean that. You are the one I want to be with. Forever."

She let out a shaky breath, a small smile forming on her lips. "I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just… seeing her brought back all those old insecurities."

"I understand baby," Logan said softly. "But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one for me."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Logan. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, let's go back and enjoy the rest of the weekend together, okay?"

"Alrighty american boy, lead the way." she agreed, feeling the warmth of his love and reassurance.

time skip

Logan had an incredible qualifying session, securing a spot on the front row. The team was ecstatic, and he was feeling on top of the world as he made his way back to the garage. As he walked in, he saw Y/N waiting for him, a mixture of pride and guilt written all over her face.

"Logan!" Y/N called out, running towards him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "You did amazing!"

Logan hugged her back, smiling. "Thanks, Y/N. I'm really happy with how it went."

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Logan, I need to apologize again. I feel so ridiculously guilty about earlier. I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm so sorry."

Logan's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Y/N, it's okay. You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand why you felt the way you did."

"But I overreacted," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling. "I should have trusted you. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I'm really, really sorry."

Logan shook his head, feeling a pang of sadness for how upset she was. "Hey, don't do this to yourself. I love you, and I understand why you felt insecure. It was a tough situation, but we worked through it together. That's what matters."

Y/N sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just hate that I made you worry and feel bad before such an important session. You deserve to be happy and focused, not dealing with my doubts."

Logan pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Y/N, your feelings are important to me. We dealt with it, and I still had a great qualifying. Please, don't beat yourself up over this. We're stronger together."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Thank you for being so understanding. I promise I'll work on my insecurities. I don't want to make you feel like this again."

Logan kissed her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "We all have insecurities, Y/N. What's important is that we talk about them and support each other. I love you, and nothing's going to change that."

"I love you too, Logan," Y/N whispered, finally allowing herself to smile. "And I'm so proud of you. You're going to do great tomorrow."

Logan grinned, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude. "With you by my side, I know I will. Now, let's go celebrate this qualifying session and enjoy the rest of the day together, okay?"

"Okay," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. "Let's do that."

As the evening settled in and the celebration for his successful qualifying session began to wind down, Logan found himself quietly observing Y/N. She was laughing with some of the team members, her eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Her smile was radiant, and the way she effortlessly brought joy to those around her made Logan's heart swell with love.

He took a moment to step back, leaning against the wall, and simply watched her. Every gesture, every laugh, every glance – it all reminded him of how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was his rock, his support, the person who believed in him even when he had doubts about himself. Her vulnerability, her strength, her love – it all made him fall deeper in love with her every day.

Logan felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over him. Despite the challenges, despite the moments of insecurity and doubt, they had come out stronger. He realized that her presence in his life was a blessing he never wanted to take for granted. She was more than just his girlfriend; she was his partner, his confidante, his everything.

In that quiet moment, Logan made a silent promise to himself – to always cherish her, to always support her, and to always remind her just how much she meant to him. As he watched Y/N continue to light up the room with her presence, Logan knew that he had found something truly special. And he was determined to hold onto it with all his heart.

[sannasruins]

no longer your person

gojo satoru x reader

type: angst, breakup

warnings: reader gets broken up with, no pronouns or y/n, sad sitting on the floor

a/n: total vent post because i am feeling insecure in my relationship lol

word count: 900

He looked at you, his eyes filled with pity, but they were an unfamiliar cold blue. Like artic ice shooting straight into your heart instead of a warm sky that embraced you.

“You’re a good person, and I love you,” he started, his eyebrows furrowed in distress. “But you’re not my person anymore. And I just, and not in love with you anymore.”

Your throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton and your chest tightened in a way that you had never felt before.

“Wha-,” you choked on the first word out of your mouth, “what do you mean Satoru?”

“I just,” he ran a hair through his hair, frustrated at his lack of words to express how he was feeling. “I just can’t do this anymore. I feel stuck. I feel like I can’t grow, grow past the person I was when I met you. This relationship, its suffocating me and it’s killing my potential.”

Your mouth hung open slightly, eyes glassy with unshed tears. These cruel words he was saying with his sweet voice that used to whisper honeyed little nothings into your ear as he held you.

“Where… where is this coming from Satoru?” You questioned him, it was already hard to process what he was trying to get across to you, but now your mind was filling with questions. “I thought we were good, we, we are in love Gojo Satoru.”

He pursed his lips at you, his face was filled with melancholy now, he didn’t want you to take it this way, he wanted it to be easy. That was naive of him.

“It’s been coming for a while, I’m sure you have felt it. Us growing apart, the distance between us expanding. Even talking to you has been hard for a while.” he looked down at his hands, wringing them.

He was right of course; you had felt a tear form your relationship quite a long time ago. But you thought it was just a rough patch, something the two of you had gone through before. With a talk and some understanding, you had hopped that you could stitch the tear right up and it just be added to the patchwork of your relationship.

Why hadn’t you talked to him about it sooner? Why did you wait for him to bring something up? Why didn’t you say anything.

“Can’t we fix this?” you looked at him beggingly, “I’m sure we can fix this, there’s no need for us to breakup, right?”

“No, I don’t think there is. I think we are long, long past the point of fixing it. I’m just full of resentment now.”

You breathed in hard, and your tears started to fall. Your shoulders shook with the force of your silent cries. Your face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh no, no,” he murmured, coming closer to you, “please? Please don’t cry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

You shook your head at him.

“Was I not enough? What, what did I do wrong?” You forced your words out past your tear clogged throat, “I’m so confused, why are you doing this to me? To us?”

He hugged you, brining you close into his familiar warmth and scent. It should be comforting but all it did was remind you that those were no longer yours, making you cry even harder, you whole body wracking with your anguish.

“You were more than enough, you gave me everything you could I’m sure of it,” he tried to reassure you, while stroking the top of your head. “It just…” he paused, contemplating what he wanted to say next, trying to soften the blow, “it isn’t the right enough for me, I need something different.”

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, and he followed, embracing you as you sobbed.

Anger filled you as he held you, how dare he be so sweet and so kind while at the same time breaking your heart. So you pushed at his chest, “Let me go.”

He refused initially, he did still love you, and seeing you in this kind of distress caused him discomfort, the idea of leaving you alone in that state didn’t sit right with him.

You push harder and begged him to let you go, please, please leave me alone, go away, you didn’t want to see you anymore.

He pulled away to look into your reddened eyes, biting his lip in concern.

“Go away Gojo.” You looked at him with a steeled gaze. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to look at you anymore, I don’t want to be in your space, I don’t want to see you. Go. Away.”

Your words caused a pang in his heart, they were kind of words you had never spoken to him before, that kind of venom in your voice had never been heard by his ears. And to call him by his last name instead of his given name, you hadn’t done that in years, his name sounded foreign to him when you spoke it.

But he got up, slowly, and dusted himself off, before looking down at your crumpled form on the floor, folded in on itself. If you had looked, you would have seen an expression on his face that was truly unreadable.

He walked away, leaving you there, on the cold hard floor, grieving a person that didn’t seem to exist anymore, and a happiness you will never be able to replicate.

He was no longer your person, and you were no longer his.

[liliacamethyst]

Okay okay, theory,

So I’ve always though Miguel had wolf spider like powers, so claws, fangs, heightened senses that include smelling and hearing mainly

I feel like after a certain point in the pregnancy Miguel might be able to smell the hormones (hormones rise in the first trimester drastically) and dogs can smell pregnancy. So like maybe the main character tries to avoid him if they know OOP🙏

Love the story btw I’m obsessed 😭😭✌️

-🌙

THIS is so good and I can totally see it.

Unfortunately it doesn’t fit to my storyline as I have already went in a slightly different direction but here is a altenative Drabble to how Miguel finds out spider sun is pregnant with your theory (I really hope you enjoy it 🌙, and it is what you were looking for)

The tension in the Spider Society headquarters was almost tangible as you stepped into the main hall. Ever since your encounter with Miguel, you've been avoiding him as much as possible, doing everything in your power to remain out of his radar.

But the Spider Society is not a large place and despite your best efforts you were bound to cross paths with Miguel eventually. It was simply inevitable.

The moment you caught sight of Miguel, your heart thumped wildly in your chest. You took a step back, ready to leave the area. But then he turned and your paths locked. He squints as if he’s trying to read your mind or something. Your palms get sweaty, and you look around to see if anyone else is watching this very intense staring contest you didn't sign up for.

“Hey,” you stammer.

“Hey,” he replies. His nostrils do this little twitchy thing and you wonder if he’s about to sneeze or something.

“Uh, you good? You look like you’re sniffing out a bomb or something,” you joke.

Miguel goes silent for a second and then, his eyes widen. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. This is the moment you’ve been dreading. Damn his heightened senses! Miguel had always been able to pick up on the smallest changes in his environment.

“Wait a second,” he says, almost whispering. His voice cracks a little.

“Wait a second, what?” you retort, really wanting to just sprint out of the room. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re pretty sure everyone in the room can hear it.

“You... are you...” he doesn’t finish the sentence.

You let out a dramatic sigh.

“You’re pregnant!” he exclaims, louder than you'd like.

The room goes quiet for a second and you can feel all eyes on you. You're red as a tomato. Way to keep a secret.

You lean in and whisper sharply, “Could you say it louder? I don’t think the whole multiverse heard you.”

He looks flabbergasted and steps back, rubbing his face. You can see his brain is working overtime.

“Is it...?” He doesn't finish his question, but you know what he means.

“Wow, Sherlock, your senses are really on point today” you reply, sarcasm dripping from each word.

Miguel's face softens, his fierce demeanor crumbling. He looks almost vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he says ever so softly.

You shrug. “You didn’t let me.”

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

[tarjapearce]

Ahem-Anon reporting for duty 🫡

I have come with a mighty need. The need is called: dragon miguel and mermaid reader. I mean hmmmggh? So cute? he a firey dragon, she a pretty lil mermaid? He totes call her his sirenita. Total opposites and kinda a forbidden love? A romeo and juliet thing, minius the tragic death ending. And they always secretly meet in a cave (miguel build it so his sirenita can swim there) they decorated it together and it’s just the best of both, their own little world and happy place. And i can’t help but wonder how do they do the 👀👀👀👀 and omg what if he gets her pregnant and all? Like he was away for a few months to defend his territory and she surprises him with her baby bum and its all dragon nest building and him being protective as f. Also scared because damn? This is a first since the beginning of time. Baby Gabi would totes be the first waterdragon 😂

Can I have your imagination borrowed for a second? Please? HOLY fuck. When I read dragon Miguel only reminded me of that beautiful fan art of him as a dragon I saw on Pinterest ♥️♥️. A bit long if you squint.

Crimson. His hands were covered in little crimson stains that oozed from his side. He was... injured.

Impossible.

A dragon? Like him? The King of Dragons. Foolish. But as much as he wanted to shake the measly pain that pulsated every time he moved forward, to the rocky cannon on the forgotten beach, it remained there, etched and oozing.

The cannons were used as his lair, his home. He collapsed on what seemed to be his bed, a l shaped stone that was a few meters away from a small entrance from the sea. Like a secret entrance.

The splashing as he collapsed alarmed him, red eyes shone in anger as a low growl echoed through. And then, his eyes settled on you. Burning eyes softened in curiosity as he saw dainty fingers peeking behind a stone, your eyes settled on him, watching his every move.

Was he hallucinating? No.

He certainly wasn't because the creature stared at him, more specifically to his wound. You went back on the water, long fish-like tail, shining softly, like if the rainbows had decided to adhere in your scales.

A mermaid?

He believed them extinct. Humans had surely haunted everything they could lay their wretched hands on.

A few moments later, the splashing returned, this time you weren't hiding behind the rock. You were before him, naked torso, wet hair stuck on your back. Hands holding what it seemed to be a moss-like plant within a shell. You offered. He frowned.

Why would he trust her? for all he knew Mermaids were also wretched creatures that lured men to death. But your frown matched his, like you had you just read his thoughts.

"Your blood will only attract other creatures that won't be as kind as I am" You mumbled. His eyes widened slightly. Of course you could speak. His blood dripped on the water and you scrunched your nose, pushing the shell further near him.

"You're welcome" you giggled and went back from where you came.

--------

Ever since that encounter, Miguel would certainly find subtle ways to lure you back to him. He surely wasn't inmune to mermaid beauty, his trust issues however made always to look past your looks, he wanted to find out what your intentions were, why you were always willing to just stare at him, expecting to something to happen, why would you always come back.

"Im just curious as to why I have been forbidden to mingle with the creatures above. You aren't that bad."

You'd smile sweetly at him to look back at the water.

"I gotta go. Will I see you again?"

He'd just nod and you disappeared.

His injury had been long healed. A couple of hours after you had offered the moss actually.

--------

He'd see you again and again, almost every day, a weird sort of fear settled in his chest whenever you didn't show up for more than three days. You had created this sort of routine where you would just show up, staring at eachother until one of you, (you mostly of the time) asked for questions.

What was up there on land? Was there a lot of humans? Who was he? Why was he hiding? Patiently he'd explain through short answers just to see the glint in your eyes at every word that came from his mouth.

Three days had passed, no sign from you, until you'd appear again, cuts and wounds covering your body, sweet scented blood oozed from your cuts, too tired to remain conscious.

Humans. They had tried to hunt you.

He'd pick you up and put you to safety, your torso resting in the sand. A few droplets of his blood wetted your lips. You'd be fine when he'd return. He turned on his back, rage boiling as the beast within him roared to be set free. He flew away with a new target on sight. The docks.

----

You were his adoration. Despite the world trying to hurt you, you remained kind, ever sweet and curious. You were his Sirenita.

He'd burn entire ships for you. The world itself if you asked him nicely enough. Dragon's nature prevented him to share with others. Not that he wanted to share you with anyone else anyway. It was only you and him.

The first kiss held so much passion, sweetness and longing. You couldn't lay in his lap without feeling dizzy by the lack of water after a few minutes. A trouble that seemed a big impediment to completely have you for himself.

He disappeared with the promise of coming back.

Was he?

You didn't know but hope set in your heart. He had never broken a promise so far.

----

Upon his return he gave you a small potion jar, you drank it after he explained what would it do. Bit by bit fins and scales were shedded from you, melding into humanoid like features, only to finally reveal supple and unmarred human legs and feet.

You were now also part human. He kissed you, cradling your wobbly body on his strong arms.

----

You mated almost every night, the once hidden cannon on the beach, forgotten, as he had taken you to his real home. Hidden away in the mountains, but close enough to the sea to sate your need of swimming and dive. You could shape-shift at will. But preferred to be with him, nesting in his arms.

-----

You'd notice your belly expanding and getting rounder by each month. He had noticed too. The urge to devour and crush anyone who trespassed in his home had only turned stronger, making his dragon form to become more vicious to the outside, yet careful to not being discovered.

Miguel would feed you, take care of you until a baby was born. It was a girl.

He was The Dragon King. And now a father.

A clueless one if you might add.

He'd flinch when tiny baby arms would flail to take a hold of him. He'd growl whenever said baby wailed at night, interrupting his rough mating with you. Strangely enough, his daughter only quieted down when he held her or you nursed her.

----

He'd marvel with pride as his daughter swum through the waters, faster than a ship could ever do. But of course the three would remain hidden from the world. Away from prying and wretched hands that could hurt you.

You both were his treasure. The things he held dear the most.

[ohworm-writes]

Just thinking about veteran and or retired neighbor Price right now *sighs dreamily while twirling my hair*

Like, okay - imagine having a house next door to Price situated in a small, cozy village up somewhere in Northern England, surrounded by nothing but green, grassy plains and dense forests with a stream that runs through the small village. I see him living somewhere cozy... quiet. Away from the loud, noisy environments that he'd been so used to, finding somewhere calm to settle down.

I see him having a pet. Maybe a lazy dog or a farm cat, something that'll follow him around and take a nap with him after a long day, either laid across his body or beside him. But, at the same time, maybe he'd like a pet that has a bit of energy - you can take a man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of a man. He still has so many traits and habits he's picked up from the military, and if you know anything about older, retired men, it's that they always need something to do and busy themselves with.

RANDOM THOUGHT but I feel like he wouldn't retire unless Laswell grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forced him out of the military, likely for his own good. If it were up to him, he'd stay in the fight until he died, so I'd think that him getting close to it was what pushed for the decision to be made for him to retire - maybe he was injured to an extent that it wouldn't be smart for him to keep going or something of the like - I could totally see him with an amputation of sorts (like, twinning with Alex lol).

I think he'd like to keep to himself for as much as he could. I don't see him as one of those super friendly, "oh, let me help you with that" type of neighbors unless the situation is right, or, rather, unless he's called upon for help. Like, he's grumpy and stoic, but only until somebody comes to him asking "hey, sorry to bother, but can you help me with something" and he'd soften up - begrudgingly, it seems, but, really, he's happy to offer some assistance. It makes him feel useful.

God, imagine moving in next door to him and struggling to unload your car of all the boxes and things that are haphazardly packed inside of it, and him walking out of his house, seeing the way that you're struggling, and letting out a heavy sigh - just like "welp, suppose I know how I'm spendin' my mornin' now" and coming over to offer his assistance, a little awkward at first, but that quickly melts away as he settles into comfortable conversation with you.

*slamming fist against the table repetitively* BRINGING HIM FOOD OR TREATS AS A MEANS OF THANKING HIM FOR HIS HELP! A little reusable container held between your hands, to your chest, walking over to his place and knocking on the door, outstretching it towards him and being like "thank you - for your help... I wanted to show my appreciation, you know? so, I made you this" and giving the container to him.

AND WHO IS HE TO SAY NO??? (He tries, believe me, but that sweet, eager look on your face, wordlessly begging for him to take it... he can't deny you). AND HIM RETURNING TO YOUR PLACE A FEW DAYS LATER WITH THE CONTAINER IN HAND, BEING ALL GREATFUL AND STUFF. God, someone let him be real, pleaseee.

Becoming comfortable neighbors with him, spending rainy afternoons over at his house, or, in contrast, him at yours, sat on the front porch with a cup of tea or coffee or hot chocolate in hand, gossiping about some of the neighbors that live within the houses along the street, the both of you sharing your own life stories here and there, him divulging about his time in the military without shame.

Okay, I know a lot of people like to think that he wouldn't ever share or talk about it, but I can't see that. It's not like he's ashamed of his time - he's proud of the work he did, if anything, and it's all behind him now, so why should he be shy to share about the things he did? Of course, I don't think he'd go into gruesome detail about it or share about everything he's seen, but he'd totally be like "yeah, I've been all over the world - did a few OPs in X, Y and Z countries, took down terrorists, et cetera" and answer any questions with pride.

Him totally being The Man™ who you can go to if you need help with anything. Need help with a leaky sink? Give him a few minutes and he'll be over with a toolbox. Want to do an oil change on your car but have no clue where to start? Don't worry, he's got an oil pan, jack and a few rags around somewhere, he's sure - he'll be over in a few. Want some simple, good ol' company? He's outside the door already.

He'd be more than happy to give you a tour of the village if you ask, pointing out which neighbors to trust and which to be wary of, telling you about his favorite pub that's posed all the way on the far side of the town, but he promises you that the food, drinks and atmosphere are like nothing else. Walking with you down the stone pathways, footsteps clacking against them, taking in the sights with you and answering every question you may have, or, simply settling into a comfortable silence with you. At peace. Comfortable.

I'm so *laying on my bed on my stomach and kicking my feet slowly in the air behind me* I need him.

[chvoswxtch]

just started the punisher & absolutely in love with how you write frank castle. i’m already a huge simp and NEED a bodyguard!frank x reader fic where the reader gets a lil tipsy & likes to run away from him? ofc she runs into trouble with other guys at the bar and immediately regrets losing frank but he comes in at the right time?

if not i totally understand and will continue to binge all of your fics!!

-thor ✨🥰

thor!!! my sweet sparkly angel baby god of thunder!!! ✨

you're so PRECIOUS. thank you so much, and thank you so much for the request. I can't believe I hadn't thought of bodyguard!frank before like...you're a genius. I left this one kinda open ended bc I wasn't sure exactly what kind of relationship we were going for between frankie & reader, so I kept it subtle BUT as always, if you want more just let me know. 😏 ❤️

warning: contains violence and mentions of blood (frankie is the punisher after all), swearing, mentions of alcohol, & mentions of harassment (if this makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip!) word count: 3k

it's my job.

[next chapter] | [series masterlist]

You should’ve listened. He told you to stay close. He told you not to have that sixth drink. He told you to stay where he could see you. But you didn’t listen.

Why hadn’t you fucking listened?

Because he frustrated you. Because he was all stone cold gazes and silence. Because he ignored you like he was paid to do that instead of protecting you. Because his eyes were always over you or around you, but never on you.

Because you had a school girl crush on your body guard and you couldn’t figure out why. 

Well, you knew part of that why. He was incredibly handsome in a rugged way. He was big and broad and looked like he could snap you in half with his bare hands if he wanted. You’d seen him crack a smile once, not at you of course, but another one of the guys that was assigned to you, and God was it beautiful. It softened his face in a way that made you stupid, and that was probably why you had made the dumbass decision that you had.

You weren’t a damsel in distress by any means, but you’d certainly play the part if it meant Frank Castle was coming to your rescue. 

The plan was simple. Slip away from Frank at the bar, find a random guy to flirt with, wait for Frank to find you, and finally be his center of attention. Simple, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Frank had turned his head for one second, and you were gone, giggling to yourself as you pictured the pissed off look on his face. Were you being a brat? Absolutely. But as pretty as Frank was, he was also a huge dick most of the time. It was only fair to return the favor considering he had been driving you crazy for months now. Tipsy you had completely justified your actions, and you agreed with her. 

It didn’t take long to find an unsuspecting player in your little game. He had a godawful smirk on his face that definitely wasn’t as attractive as he thought it was, and clearly screamed ‘no one’s ever told me no in my entire life’. That should’ve been red flag number one. His overconfidence was as nauseating as the sound of his voice, but you reminded yourself you had a game to win. You subtly kept glancing around for Frank, wondering what the hell was taking so long. All of a sudden, Jason…Jake…whatever the hell his name was-decided to invite his entire frat house apparently to crash your little party. 

That was when the chaos started.

They all crowded around you in a corner in the back, completely blocking your view from the rest of the bar. You started to feel a little nervous, realizing that if you couldn’t see Frank, he couldn’t see you. That thought, along with the ravenous gaze in each of the men’s eyes, completely sobered you up. You didn’t like their lingering stares. You didn’t like how close they all were. This wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t a game. It was a mistake. 

“I-I think I should go find my friend. Excuse me.”

“Whoa, where you going, princess? I thought we were your friends?”

The ringleader didn’t hide the path of his eyes as they traveled down your body, and it made you feel sick. His friends snickered as they moved in closer towards you, not bothering to hide their shameless gazes either.

“What, you don’t like us anymore?”

Think. Think. Think.

Don’t piss them off. 

Play along.

Be smart.

You attempted your best polite smile, shaking your head slowly as you tried to find a gap between their bodies.

“Just wanna make sure no one sends a search party and ruins the fun. I’ll be right back.”

You tried not to move too quickly as you went to step between two of them, but a tight grip on your wrist yanked you backwards against an uncomfortable chest.

“Why don’t you just text them later. C’mon, don’t be difficult.”

There was a fear bubbling up in your chest and your throat felt tight. God why hadn’t you just fucking listened to Frank? Where the hell was he? You just wanted to go home. You sent a silent prayer up to whoever was listening that you’d never do anything stupid like this again if you could just go home.

“You’re hurting me.”

You winced, not from the weakness in your own voice, but from the harsh orchestra of laughter at your words. You felt like a lamb trapped in a circle of wolves. The horrid feeling of the man’s hand caressing your face caused your fingers to tremble, whimpering slightly as his hand gripped your jaw tightly when you tried to turn away from his touch.

“What’s the matter, princess? Don’t like it rough?”

“Frank?!”

If he couldn’t see you, maybe he could at least hear you.

“That’s not my name, baby. Don’t worry, we can practice you screaming it later. I promise, it’ll be the only one you remember after I-”

A high pitched yelp rang loudly in your ears and it took a couple of seconds to realize that it came from the man that was grabbing you. Blinking a few times, you stared dumbfounded as you realized Frank had pinned his arm behind his back in a very painful looking position and had slammed his face into the closest wall.

“You put this fuckin’ hand where it don’t belong again, and I’m gonna break it. You got that?”

Frank must have done something to prove his point, because the man cried out as he furiously tried to nod his head that was trapped against the wall.

“Fuck…y-yeah, yeah I got it! Just fucking let go!”

As Frank released him and took a step backwards, the man fervently turned around, ready to strike until he took in the look on Frank’s face. There was pure fear in that man’s eyes, and you could’ve sworn you saw him gulp as he quickly took a step backwards. He looked comically small compared to Frank. It fueled something within you to see him look so small and fragile. Frank turned his head slightly to shoot a warning look to the others, one they quickly responded to by taking a step back and holding their hands up in surrender.

Shooting one last glare to the ring leader, Frank finally turned around to face you. A shiver tumbled down your spine at the fury burning in his eyes. He was pissed. 

“You alright?”

The tone of his voice was so harsh and gruff it almost hurt your ears, having the complete opposite effect it normally did. You brought your trembling hand up and held your wrist against your chest, trying to ignore the sting of pain you felt as you cast your eyes downward and nodded.

You jumped slightly when you felt the warm weight of Frank’s palm on your arm, noticing the way his face fell ever so slightly as he recognized the terror in your eyes. He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, nodding his head towards your wrist.

“Lemme see.”

If Frank was pissed before, he was fucking enraged now. Allowing him to hold out your wrist to inspect it, his jaw immediately hardened when he saw the faint outline of fingerprints blooming on your skin in light shades of maroon. 

“Fuckin’ piece of shit.”

Before you had a chance to stop him, Frank’s fist was colliding with the man’s jaw, causing you to wince as you heard it crack like thunder across the sky in a violent storm. You could hear one of his ribs shattering like glass as Frank landed a powerful blow to his chest, grunting as he dragged him back up by his collar.

“Thought you liked it rough, huh? You pussyin’ out on me now?”

The man feebly tried to push at Frank’s chest to create some distance. He would’ve had better luck trying to knock down a brick wall with his bare hands. His friends stood stunned in place by Frank’s wrath, paralyzed with horror as their fearless leader sobbed and pleaded for mercy. 

“You like putin’ your hands on women, yeah? That make you feel big? Make you feel like a man?”

Frank’s voice boomed in your ears the louder he got. There was a frenzied look in his eyes, and you’d lost count of how many times his fist had collided with various parts of the man’s body. 

“Frank, please.”

Frank’s unrelenting fist paused midair at the sound of your voice, head snapping in your direction. He wasn’t going to stop unless you begged him to. You could see it in his eyes.

“I wanna go home. Please, Frank. Please take me home.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw as he glanced between you and the man whose bloodied face was now unrecognizable. Grabbing onto his jaw roughly, the man whimpered as a fresh stream of blood leaked from his mouth. Frank leaned in close, staring directly into the eye that wasn’t swollen shut as he growled lowly.

“You ever come near her again, or I hear anythin' ‘bout you putin’ your hands on another woman, I’ll fuckin’ make you scream. And it’ll be the last goddamn thing you do. You got that?”

Frank didn’t wait for an answer. He swiftly guided you out with his hand on your lower back, ignoring the horrified looks from everyone as they parted for him like the red sea. The slam of the passenger door caused you to jump, buckling yourself in with trembling hands as Frank sped out of the parking lot like a madman. 

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t face the rage on his face and the disappointment in his eyes. One glance in his direction had you immediately turning away. His fist was coated in the man’s blood as it gripped onto the steering wheel, crimson almost gleaming under the moonlight as it dripped down his wrist. You pushed it too far. You pushed him too far.

The entire drive home was silent. You desperately wanted to get out and get away from him. How were you ever supposed to look at him again? He was probably going to quit after what you did. How could you have been so reckless? So stupid? You stared at your reflection in the side mirror.

Well, you got what you wanted.

As soon as his truck pulled into the driveway you were unbuckling yourself and dashing out towards the front door. Your fingers trembled as you struggled with the lock, heart thrashing in your ribcage hearing Frank’s heavy boots pounding angrily against the concrete. He silently reached around you to grab the keys, turning the lock and shoving the door open angrily as you rushed through the threshold. 

His large hand caught your arm before you could disappear into your bedroom, spinning you around quickly as he stared down at you furiously.

“Why do you gotta always be so goddamn difficult? Why can’t you just do what the fuck I ask, when I ask it?”

“Frank-”

“You are a fuckin’ relentless pain in my ass, you know that? You got any idea what coulda happened to you? What they woulda done? Is that what you want?”

“No, I-”

“Because that woulda been on me. Somethin’ happens to you, it’s on me. It don’t matter that you’re a goddamn spoiled brat that can’t fuckin’ listen to save her fuckin’ life, it’s my ass. You get that? Or are you so goddamn selfish, you can’t see past yourself?”

He was right. You knew he was right. You had been selfish. You could’ve gotten yourself seriously hurt, or worse. You could’ve gotten Frank hurt or worse. And for what? Because he did his job too well? Because he wouldn’t entertain your bullshit? A lump of regret caught in your throat and you could feel guilt brimming along your waterline. You were a selfish, spoiled brat to him. That’s all he saw you as, and would ever see you as, because that was all you had proven to him. He probably hated you, and that thought alone is what finally broke you.

“I’m sorry, Frank. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-I wasn’t thinking. I was being stupid. I…I was being selfish. If you hadn’t been there…I don’t…I can’t…”

You shuddered as you thought about how that sentence would end. You didn’t even wanna think about it. You realized in that moment how complacent you had gotten because of Frank. He was always there. The thought of someone getting past him never even occurred to you. There was never a chance for anyone to get too close to you until you created one.

Frank paused his irritated pacing, his face softening as he heard the remorse that cracked through your voice. Your hands were trembling as you choked words out through your heavy tears, and for the first time that night he thought about how scared you must have been. He glanced at the bruises that marked your wrist and let out a deep exhale through his nose. You were a pain in the ass, but he knew you hadn’t intended for tonight to happen. You could be careless sometimes, but not enough to put yourself in that situation.

Frank took a few cautious steps forward, placing his hands delicately on your shoulders.

“Hey, breathe. Everythin’s alright, yeah? You’re home. You’re alright. Just…breathe for me, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry, Frank-”

Frank let out another deep sigh as he pulled you in close, hugging your head against his chest as he gently rubbed your back.

“Hey…hey, I know. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen. Look, it’s over, yeah? Don’t matter anymore. Just focus on breathin’ for me.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt, and I-”

Frank pulled back slightly as he cupped your jaw delicately, searching your eyes with confusion knit between his dark brows. It felt drastically different than when that man had grabbed your face earlier. Frank’s fingers were rough, but they were soft as they touched you. Frank would never hurt you. His full lips were pursed in almost a pout as he searched your eyes, and it was the first time you were able to look at them so closely. They were a breathtaking shade of chocolate brown, and looked so different when he wasn’t angry. His entire face was different when he let that brooding mask slip. 

After a beat of silence, the edge of his mouth curved in the tiniest of smirks as his eyes lit up with mischief.

“The hell you worryin’ ‘bout me for? I’m the one protectin’ you, ya’know.”

“I don’t make that easy.”

“No, you don’t.”

There was a somewhat playful tone to the normal edge of his voice. He was trying to make you feel better, but you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

“And I could’ve gotten us both hurt because of it.”

Frank had expected you to banter back with him. You always had some smartass comeback ready to fire, and he secretly enjoyed it. But the dejection in your voice made him worry he’d been too hard on you earlier. A bigger part of him was nervous that he’d scared you in the bar, and that gnawed at the pit of his stomach.

“Have I ever let a single thing happen to you?”

“No, but-”

“Do you think I ever would?”

“No, but Frank-”

“Good. My job is to protect you. I don’t need you worryin’ ‘bout me, sweetheart. I can take a lot more than you give me credit for. What I do need is you to worry ‘bout yourself, and listen. I don’t tell you shit to be a hardass or try to control you. It’s to keep you safe. You got that?”

“Yes, Frank.”

“So, we understand each other now? You gonna start listenin’?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Attagirl.”

Frank granted you a miniscule smile as he wiped a stray tear away from your cheek, and a tiny surge of pride flowed through you at his praise. You wanted more of that. You gently wrapped your hand around his wrist, finding yourself unable to break his mesmerizing gaze.

“I don’t ever want anything like tonight to happen again.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I was really scared, Frank.”

“Did I scare you?”

Frank’s voice was quieter as he voiced his inquisition, and you could hear the vulnerability laced in it. You quickly shook your head, holding onto his wrist a little tighter.

“I wasn’t scared of you, Frank. I never have been. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to find you. That you wouldn’t be able to find me. That I…might never see you again.”

“I’ll always find you, sweetheart. I promise.”

You thought you liked how your name sounded coming from Frank’s mouth, and God you did, but sweetheart…yeah you liked that much better.

“Frank-”

“Go get some sleep. We’ll talk in the mornin’.”

“Are you leaving?”

Frank quirked one of his brows as he looked at you, a smile ghosting over his mouth so fast you had to convince yourself you hadn’t imagined it.

“Kinda defeats the purpose of body guardin’ if I ain’t here to guard your body, yeah? And since someone can’t manage to keep herself outta trouble, can’t really take any chances.”

Something about that sentence had heat violently spreading across your cheeks, and traveled very far downwards. You nodded your head quickly, trying to will your brain to remember how to speak as you cleared your throat.

“Right…um…guest room is-”

“Across from yours, I remember.”

“Um…goodnight, Frank.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

You flashed him a tight lipped smile, trying to gather yourself as you turned around and headed towards your bedroom. What a fucking night. As you opened your bedroom door, you paused for a second and turned around, only to find Frank still in the same spot you had left him, watching you closely. He turned his body to face you expectantly, cocking his head slightly to the side in question.

“Thank you.”

Frank’s hand twitched slightly as his side, giving you a slight nod.

“It’s my job, sweetheart.”