#and then after that point i started falling behind

[5sospenguinqueen]

Suck My Balls - Kevin Magnussen x Mercedes! Reader

Summary: When you and Kevin collide on track, fans half-expect you to start attacking each other. That’s not… quite how it ends.

Warnings: 18+ after the cut. Male oral. Enemies to lovers. Not an original title but how could I call it anything else 

Requested: No, which makes it worse lol

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

liked by georgerussell63, hulkhulkenberg and others 

yn_ln starting p3 tomorrow, looking forward to going racing. in a position to push for a podium

2,044 comments

mercedesamgf1 that’s our girl! looking forward to a masterclass of overtaking 

georgerussell63 flaunting the gear, are we? yet you make fun of me when i post the tommy

→ yn_ln “flaunting the gear” and “post the tommy” this is why twitter say you have 0 aura

→ georgerussell63 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s being mean again 

→ user i love the 2019 rookies in merc

charles_leclerc you couldn't have gone a little slower and let me on the second row instead? 

→ yn_ln it’s against my contract to help pretty boys 

→ danielricciardo is that why you gave max a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 that was an accident! 

user she’s such a great starter. i bet she ends up leading by the second lap at least 

user yn podium incoming

→ user i think you mean yn win incoming 

→ alex_albon i can feel it in my bones 

→ yn_ln thank you my #1 fan

→ georgerussell63 so you steal my aura and my alex? 

user it’s a shame that yn’s time knocked nico into p11

→ user it's okay because haasband kevin magnussen will be committing war crimes to defend him 

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f1 posted a new story

18+

A throaty groan filled the room as nimble fingers tugged harshly on cropped blond strands. In response, his lips sucked on the pulse point below your ear. Kevin chuckled against your skin when your hips rolled eagerly against him.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” you spat, shoving him away from you.

“Skat, I have my thigh between your legs. There’s no way for me to not enjoy this.”

You rolled your eyes at the smug grin on his face, pushing him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the hotel bed. He let himself fall backwards with a soft thud. Tucking an arm behind his head, he watched your eyes track the flex of his bicep with a smug smirk.

“Don’t be an asshole. Or I stop.”

“Now that would be more disappointing than the DNF.” His words trailed off as he choked on his own breath. The palm of your hand pressing down harshly on the bulge in his jeans. “Fucking hell.” He groaned, throwing his head back.

“Do you really want to piss me off right now?”

Kevin lifted his head, blue eyes darkened and pink lips apart, breathing heavily. Your hand moved to the top of his jeans, popping open the button and revealing a glimpse of grey boxers. A dark spot had formed where his tip sat.

“Desperate, are we?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kevin groaned, pink staining his cheeks.

“Only when my mouth’s full.”

“Then I suggest you get on with it.”

He lifted his hips, helping you to pull the denim down his thighs, giving up once they’d reached his knees. He watched eagerly, holding his breath as your fingertips reached for the waistband of his boxers. He squirmed when your fingers skimmed his stomach. His boxers are pulled down, freeing his cock. It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy. The cool air paired with the way you’re looking at him sends goosebumps rippling across his thighs.

A stuttered breath left his lips when your hand wrapped around him. Slowly working him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Your hair tickles his thighs when you lean down to press a kiss to the bottom of his stomach.

“Don’t be such a tease,” he hissed.

You ignored him, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his thigh all whilst your hand pumped him. Your tongue licked a stripe up his balls, enjoying the way his body jolted beneath you.

“Fuck,” he grunted when you took his balls in your mouth, sucking slightly. You chuckled against him, sending vibrations through his balls. “Oh, shit.”

Your tongue trailed a line from his balls, up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. Looking up, your eyes connected with his just as you sucked. Enjoying the way his head tipped back, you took more of him into your mouth before pulling back up. His hips bucked up, chasing your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down. His abs clenched when your tongue traced his slit, and you were rewarded with a throaty groan from Kevin. His hand reached for the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He hesitated for a moment, waiting for you to pull back. Pulling back up, your lips sucked gently on the head of his cock.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kevin whispered, pushing a strand of hair back from your face.

Using his hold on your hair, he pushed your head down further. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly. Your hand continued to pump what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Allowing Kevin to control the pace, you relaxed your jaw, taking more of him in when he pushed you down again.

“Shit, you’re so good at that. I’m so close.”

Encouraged, you suck harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls. With a slight squeeze, you let Kevin push your head down once more as he releases with a loud curse. Thick white ropes of cum paint your tongue, leaking from the side of your mouth.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck. So good.” Kevin whimpered, sensitive as your mouth slid off him.

Hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, mouth wide open, looking spent and satisfied. You decided you could get used to this sight of Kevin.

“I told you that you’d like that.”

Before you could laugh at your own joke, you felt the world spin and your back landed on the white sheets. An involuntary wince escaped you, body bruised from your earlier crash. Kevin immediately scrambled back, off your body.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot- and it’s my fault-“

Your arms reached out for him, yanking until he lost his balance, almost collapsing atop you. His arms fell beside your head, bracing him.

“Shut up. You’re not here to be nice. If I wanted nice, I’d have asked your teammate.”

“He couldn’t fuck you like I can.”

“Prove it.”

And, as Kevin reached down to yank your leggings away, a darkness in his eyes, you knew he would.

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yn_ln just posted

liked by kevinmagnussen, francisca.cgomes and others 

yn_ln it’s a shame some people don’t have better reaction times but the main take away from this weekend is that i’m okay. a little bruised and a lot disappointed. now for a little girly self care 

2,750 comments

landonorris oh god, my eyes (puke)

georgerussell63 blimey, warn a man first. not what i wanted to see 

→ yn_ln "blimey?" do you need to calm your nerves with a spot of tea?

alex_albon treat yourself, girly 

user i love how the 2019 rookies are together

→ user alex being the only supportive one

mercedesamgf1 we’ll see you on that top step soon enough, yn 

user not k mag liking this post whilst she shades him in the caption

→ user can you blame him. she’s thirst trapping

→ user he probably saw people on twitter talking about it and came to drool 

user being a passenger princess is the ultimate form of self care

alexandrasaintmleux loving the aesthetic 

→ user even the man?

→ alexandrasaintmleux especially 

charles_leclerc is the bath a good place to cry?

→ yn_ln yes

→ charles_leclerc can you show me how to make one like that?

→ yn_ln also yes. on my way 

lilymhe okay, i see you. treating yourself in more ways than one

→ yn_ln it definitely was more than one way 

→ landonorris filth!

user why aren’t more people freaking out about the fact that there is clearly a man touching her???

→ user thank you! like who is he? is this a soft launch or just miss thing flaunting the fact that she probably got railed after the grand prix

user anyone else think that tattoo looks a lot like kevin’s?

(picture 3 has been deleted) 

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Requests are open

No tags because this is smut and I don't know if all of you are comfortable with that :)

[honeybeedewdrops]

Photo Gone Wrong | L.Norris

Summary: McLaren ask Y/N to take a picture of Lando and Oscar holding their first and third place trophy. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mention of a bloody nose

______________________________________________________________

The McLaren garage was the place to be after the Singapore Grand Prix. "Y/N" Someone called as you walk out of the garage. You stop and see one of the social media managers calling you over, Oscar and Lando close by her side.

"hey what's up" you say walking over to them. "Would you be able to take a picture of the boys holding their trophies for the McLaren socials." You nod and start to get your camera out. "Sure any particular way" You ask. "yeah were thinking like this one" the social media managers says getting out her phone and showing you a picture the boys had taken a few weeks ago.

"oh uh ok" you says not so sure about this picture many things could go wrong. "What? What's wrong you seem hesitant" the social media manager asks "I just what if one of them drop the trophy and break my camera or worse me" you state "come on Y/n don't you trust us" Lando says "You not so much. Oscar he's fine" Lando rolls his eyes. "Come on Y/n" Lando begs "i'll make sure he doesn't so anything" Oscar says "fine" you agree. You get down on the ground and point your camera up "Ok lean in" you say. Lando grips his trophy and nearly drops it causing you to squeal and turn away. Lando started laughing, "Lando" you complain "alright alright i'm serious" he says as the two lean in.

You snap a couple photos and before anyone could react Lando had dropped his trophy. He scrambled to catch it but even with his fast reflexes it was too late. The trophy came to a crash against your face the end hitting just perfectly in between your camera and cheek hitting your nose full on. You toss your camera aside not caring about it and sitting up grabbing your nose, crying out in pain. Blood started to gush out. "Oh my gosh Y/n I am so sorry I didn't mean it" Lando panicked. "I think, I think you broke my nose" you says as tears started to pool and fall. "We need a medic" Lando calls and Oscar takes off towards the medical center at least that's where you hopped he was going. "I am so sorry. what can I do?" Lando asks "Can you maybe get me a towel or something?" you ask holding your bloody nose that was really hurting. Lando looks around and spots a bag a few meters away he opens it and hands you a shirt. A crowd started to form and you started to get embarrassed. You tried not to put too much pressure as if you did it hurt.

A few minutes later Oscar came rushing over a few of the medical team right behind him. At that point your hands and the t-shirt you had were covered in blood. "Hey can you tell me your name" one Medic asks "Y/n" she says as the medic takes the cloth away. "ok that looks pretty bad" He says going into his bag and removing the t-shirt the medic poked around your nose making you flinch any time he'd touch a tender spot. "I'm sorry" he'd say.

Once the medic was finished he handed you some tissues to catch the blood. "Ok now we are going to get you onto the stretcher and get you down to the center" you nod as the three medics helped you up and then onto the stretcher. Lando walked up to you "Y/n i am so sorry" Lando apologies once again. "It's fine Lando I'll be fine" you said as they wheeled you away Lando following close behind.

They get to the medical center where you are put on some heavy medication to help with the pain as well as a blood thinner to help with stopping the bleeding. "Y/n we are going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out and make sure it's not a serious break from the looks of it you'll be fine will just have to wear a splint for about 2 weeks" "ooookkkk" you nod lazily the pain meds really doing some work.

The medic leaves to get the ambulance ready. "Sorry about your shirt" you said holding out the bloody McLaren shirt. "It's ok it's not even mine" he said pushing it back into your lap "oh good" you say and closes your eyes. "Y/n" Lando says "mmhm" "I am so sorry" you groaned tired of hearing him apologise "ugh stop apologising" "I can't help it. I feel really bad" you sighs "I'll be fine Lando" the medic comes back and start loading you into the van. Lando once again by your side. In the ambulance the bleeding had finally stopped and your nose was really swollen and starting to bruise.

Once at the hospital the doctor did confirm you had a broken nose but it wasn't severe enough that you needed surgery just needed to set it back and keep a splint on for 2 weeks.

Lando was very sweet the entire time, he waited the entire time. Even after you begged him to leave to celebrate his win with the team he didn't.

Luckily for you there was a 3 week break in between Singapore and Austin. When the Austin race did roll around you didn't have to wear a splint anymore and the swelling had gone so now it was just really bruised, but many still asked what had happened. 

[soulessjourney]

Shattered Bonds

A/N: I'm back after a very much long needed break! Between starting a new job and graduating, things have been super hectic. So, why not come back with an angsty fanfic with Azriel? I also may or may not be working on the long-awaited part 2 of 'Exile'.

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After being injured in battle, Azriel is consumed by guilt. But when you finally wake, you're confronted with the harsh reality that perhaps you were always replaceable.

Warnings: Violence, Language, hurt no comfort, Azriel lowkey is a dick, Injured Reader, Angst, Duel(ish) POV, Mentions of pregnancy

Death and smoke fill your lungs. A sticky substance clings to your skin, though at this point, you're unsure if it’s yours or someone else’s. Metal clashes against metal, and your hands sting from both the vibration and the rawness caused by gripping the sword's hilt. You pivot on your foot, turning quickly to keep up with your opponent, your blades moving at lightning speed. Then, you feel a foot slam into your stomach, sending you flying backward across the rough brick ground. The surface tears into your skin like tiny knives, shredding your clothes in the process.

You scramble to your feet, your eyes darting around for your attacker. Instead, they land on a blue glow and dark hair. Azriel. But before you can process this, a sharp pain stabs your side. Gasping, you turn and plunge your sword into your attacker, your eyes blazing with fury. You lock onto the wide eyes of your victim just as another sharp pain strikes your stomach. Looking down, you see something silver protruding from your abdomen.

Green wisps shoot out from you, your lip curling as blood dribbles from the corner of your mouth. You drive the sword deeper into him as he begins to gag, foam forming at the edges of his mouth. You watch as he collapses to the ground, clawing at his neck before eventually falling still. Staggering back, you wince at the ever-growing burn in your abdomen, the green wisps swirling as if seeking something.

You fall back against the crumbling building behind you, sliding down the wall as you tilt your head back, feeling the weight of your exhaustion. Your vision blurs, your mind hazy, as you clutch your stomach, finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. A red glow catches your attention, and someone sprints toward you, dropping to their knees, unsure hands hovering over your wound.

“Cassian?” Your voice is frail, barely a whisper. If your mother could hear you now, she’d be laughing in pure disappointment.

Cassian smiles down at you and gently brushes the hair from your face. “Hey there, Bug. Hang on for me, alright? Azriel is coming.” You smile at the nickname he gave you when you were younger, back when you had an obsession with ladybugs.

Nodding, you close your eyes and lean into him. “It hurts, Cass,” you mumble, wincing as you shift, trying to find some comfort.

“I know, I know. But you did such a good job,” he whispers, combing your hair back before pressing his hands firmly against your wound to stem the bleeding.

The world around you seems to darken, and you glance up to meet the eyes of your mate. Smiling weakly, you reach out to him. “Hey, Az,” you whisper as your eyes flutter closed. His horrified expression tells you everything—the wound isn’t something that can be easily fixed. In other words, it’s a "you might die" kind of wound. Joy.

Azriel looked pale, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened. He gently pulls you toward him, holding you close as his thumb strokes softly across your cheek. His gaze darts around frantically before locking onto Cassian.

“We need to get her back. She’s not going to survive. Let Rhys and the others know,” he says, urgency clear in his voice.

Leaning into him, you feel the comforting embrace of his shadows surrounding you. Your eyes grow heavy, and before long, sleep overtakes you.

Azriel paced around the room as you lay motionless in the bed. Every glance at you gnawed at his heart, guilt consuming him. His shadows hadn't left your side, hovering as if trying to heal you somehow. His pacing came to an abrupt stop when his brothers and Madja entered the room. Azriel didn’t miss the more somber expressions they wore, and even Madja's eyes seemed duller than before.

He turned to them, desperation shining in his gaze. “Well? What did Madja say?” he asked, his voice tight with anxiety. Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a look, as if communicating silently. Cassian nodded, then pursed his lips before facing Azriel.

“Well, there’s a chance Y/N could make it,” Cassian said gently.

Azriel felt as though his ears were ringing. A chance. Just a chance that you might wake up and survive. It wasn't a guarantee, only a possibility. His frustration boiled over. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can’t we do something to wake her? If not, why did we even bring her back?” he spat, his shadows retracting toward him, draping over his shoulders like a dark cape.

Madja shook her head as she finished changing the dressing on your wounds. “We’ve done all we can, boy. It's her fight now. I suggest you stay here—if she wakes, the first thing she’ll want is her mate,” Madja said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You need to be there for her, as she has been for you countless times.”

With that, she nodded to the brothers and quietly left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the ground. Cassian, already knowing what his brother was about to say, gently gripped his shoulder. “It’s not—”

“But it is my fault," Azriel snapped. "She wanted to stay behind and protect Feyre and the others, and I convinced her to come because I couldn’t bear to be away from her for so long. She was unsure of her skills, and I talked her into it. I’m to blame for all of this. I almost got my mate killed.” He spun, his gaze shifting between his brothers and you.

Rhysand sighed, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. “Az, Cassian’s right. You can’t blame yourself for this. Y/N was already set on coming. She talked to me about it—she was worried about you and didn’t want to leave you stranded in battle while she stayed behind.”

Azriel let out a low growl, his siphons flashing, causing Cassian to tense. “Either way, I couldn’t protect her. And now look at her—she’s fighting for her life, and I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up.” He stepped closer to you, sinking into the chair beside your bed and gently taking your hand. “Just give me some time alone. I need to think while still being here for her,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on your chest, searching for any sign of your shallow breathing.

Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but Rhysand placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently, Cassian closed his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, Rhysand following close behind. The door clicked shut, leaving Azriel alone in the deafening silence.

Azriel let his eyes trace over your face, as if committing every feature, every imperfection to memory. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve stayed by your side, like you asked. I shouldn’t have fought with you about it. You needed me, and I turned my back on you, and this is the result.”

He felt like a danger to you. Even if you survived, he believed he would only continue to put you in harm's way. You could never have a peaceful life with him. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, but he’d failed when it mattered most. You were his entire universe, and yet he couldn’t protect you. He had convinced himself that by staying by his side, you would never be safe—that he didn’t deserve you, not if it meant you ended up like this.

The door creaked open, and Elain poked her head in, glancing around. Stepping in, she cleared her throat softly. “Oh, Azriel, I didn’t realize you’d be here. I thought you were still with Madja and the others,” she said gently. Noticing his gaze on the moon lilies, she smiled and approached the table next to your bed. “Moon lilies. They were her favorite. For a while, I thought she was going to take over the whole garden with them. Luckily, I talked her into taking over the area by the pond. It’s beautiful with the flowers there,” Elain said, smiling down at you.

Azriel looked up at Elain, his expression unreadable. Letting go of your hand, he stood and cleared his throat. “Speaking of the flowers, I saw you loading the cart earlier. I assume you’re making rounds around Velaris to hand them out. Would you like some help?” he asked, his voice even.

Their eyes met, and Elain studied him for a moment, as if searching for the intent behind his offer. After a brief hesitation, she nodded and motioned toward the door.

You pace around the room, your leathers hugging you tightly. Nesta had spent hours wrestling with your hair, her shaky hands finally managing to braid it back. She’d have a fit if she saw the strands that had already fallen loose. Chewing on your nail, your gaze snaps to Azriel, who watches you from the bed. “I don’t know about this, Az. We still don’t know what I’m capable of. What if I hurt the wrong person?” you ask, your pacing quickening slightly.

Azriel huffs as he continues sharpening Truth-Teller. “Stop worrying so much. It’s war, Y/N. Accidents are going to happen. You can’t always prevent them. One day, you’ll have to face the reality of what you can do and accept it. I can’t always be there to shield you from the harsh truths.” His tone is sharp, and it brings you to an abrupt halt.

“I’m not asking you to shield me, Azriel. I’m asking you to be there if I lose control,” you push back, crossing your arms over your chest. Azriel tenses at the use of his full name.

Setting the dagger in his lap, he turns to face you. “And I can’t do that. My place is by Rhysand’s side, and you know that. I can’t abandon him just to keep you safe all the time. This is your chance to learn how to handle things on your own for once.”

A dry laugh escapes you, and you throw your hands up in frustration. “I never asked you to abandon him, Azriel! You were the one who insisted I come with you—especially when we don’t know what I’m capable of or that I can’t control these abilities yet. So, I’m sorry if I’m a little scared,” you say, your voice catching.

Azriel scoffs as he stands, gathering his things. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Y/N. And if not, just don’t die. We don’t need more problems weighing down the court.” His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Taking your silence as an answer, Azriel turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, staring at the door.

Your eyes snap open as a rush of air fills your lungs. Choking, you cough violently, feeling a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. Your body tenses at the unfamiliar touch, and you instinctively jerk back, putting distance between yourself and the unknown figure.

“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s okay,” a familiar voice reassures. As your vision clears, you find yourself face to face with Cassian, his frown deepening at your reaction.

Relaxing slightly, you offer him a small smile and shift back into your original position. “Where’s Azriel?” you ask, noticing something flicker in his eyes, though you can’t quite identify the emotion. Maybe you weren’t fully awake enough to process it. Glancing around the room, you spot a few vases of dead flowers and a subtle change in the decor. Confusion clouds your face. “Cassian, how long have I been asleep?”

Cassian clears his throat, looking away as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s been about ten months,” he finally says.

It feels like a jolt of electricity surges through you. Ignoring his protests, you slide out of bed and limp toward the window. “Ten months? How—what—there’s no way,” you mutter, staring at your reflection in the glass. You turn your head from side to side, inspecting your appearance. Your face had slimmed significantly, and your eyes were slightly sunken. You still looked like yourself, but there was something off, something different. “Cassian, where is Azriel? Is he on a mission?”

Cassian sighs, running a hand over his face as he averts his gaze once again. “It’s better if I show you rather than tell you,” he mutters, glaring toward the door. “Get cleaned up, and once you’re ready, we’ll head downstairs,” he says, moving to sit on one of the couches. “I’ll wait here. Take your time.”

Nodding slowly, you turn toward the bathroom and walk in to bathe. You were somewhat clean, but it was clear they had only managed to wash the areas they could reach with a small towel. At least they had taken care of you, in some way. Stepping into the bath, you sink into the water, staring blankly at the wall. Ten months. You had been in that state for ten months, leaving your family to wait and worry.

Your thoughts drift to Azriel. Why hadn’t he been there when you woke? Why did the other end of the bond feel so empty and cold?

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug on the bond, holding it tight as you wait for a response. But when none comes, your heart clenches. Panic sets in as you hurriedly finish bathing and dressing. Throwing the door open, you face Cassian. “Has something happened to Azriel? Is he alright?”

Cassian lets out a dry snort and stands. “Yeah, something happened,” he mutters, offering you his arm. Taking it, you shoot him a confused look as the two of you walk together. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

As you and Cassian descend the stairs, the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and silverware fill the air. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you step into the room. Mor is the first to notice you, her eyes brimming with tears as she suddenly stands and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Please don’t tell me this is a dream,” she rasps, clinging to you.

You and Mor had always been like sisters. Growing up surrounded by the boys, her arrival in your life had been a blessing.

“It’s not a dream,” you whisper, hugging her back just as tightly. But after a few moments, you feel Mor tense, as if she suddenly remembered something. She pulls away, giving you a sad smile that only deepens your confusion. As you look around the room, everyone avoids your gaze, though a palpable tension hangs in the air, laced with something like anger.

Your eyes shift between them, trying to understand, until they finally land on Azriel. He sits frozen, fork midair, eyes wide, body rigid. Next to him, Elaine quickly looks away, nervously biting her lip—a habit she had whenever she felt guilty about something.

“Azriel?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he drops his fork, spilling his drink onto Elaine’s lap.

Elaine stands abruptly, and your eyes widen in shock. Before you, a very pregnant Elaine rises, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Your gaze travels downward, catching the glint of a ring on her finger. “You and Lucien finally made it official?” you ask, a smile breaking across your face. “I’m so happy for you!” You laugh, but the sound dies quickly when you notice everyone else’s glances shifting toward Azriel.

That’s when you see it—something you had somehow missed before. On his finger, where he once wore the engagement ring meant for you, sits a wedding band, one that matches Elaine’s.

A chill runs down your spine as your eyes snap back to his. The room feels suddenly colder, and you feel the ground give way beneath you.

“No…” you whisper, your vision blurring as the weight of it all crashes down on you.

The ring on your finger suddenly felt like it was searing into your skin, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. "This is a joke, right? Some sick prank you both decided to pull?" When silence met your words, the rage inside you began to swell, and your breathing quickened. "So you’re telling me that while I was fighting for my life, you were out here screwing Elain, and somewhere along the way, you got married—and the best part? She’s pregnant?"

Something snapped inside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw green wisps materialize, curling around you like tendrils of raw power.

Rhysand stood abruptly, and Cassian shifted closer to Nesta, instinctively protective. “Y/N, you need to breathe. I understand you're angry, but this isn’t the place to test your abilities after being asleep for ten months,” Rhysand said, trying to calm you.

You shook your head, fists clenched. “You want me to calm down? My supposed mate left me to rot in that room, just so he could chase after Elain. He abandoned me and every promise he made! I didn’t ask to be in that room—I didn’t ask to get hurt. So why should I bow down to your request when the real traitor is right here in front of all of you!”

With a final burst of fury, a smoky green tendril shot out, aimed directly at Azriel and Elain. His shadows barely blocked the blow. Elain screamed, curling in on herself to protect her stomach, while Azriel staggered back, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions surging through the bond. The betrayal, the hurt, the rage—all of it hit him like a wave, causing him to drop to his knees, gasping for breath.

You stepped closer, looming over him, and pulled the ring from your finger, letting it fall to the ground in front of him. Azriel picked it up without hesitation, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Don’t look at me like that, Azriel. It makes you look pathetic," you spat. "You chose this the moment you left me in that room to chase after Elain. After 200 years together, I was never going to compare to her, even as your mate. You’ve made it clear, Azriel—I’m replaceable."

You took a step back, but Azriel’s hand shot out, catching yours in desperation. “Y/N, you don’t understand—you can’t do this. Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice broken, his face twisted with regret.

Seeing him on his knees, begging—it made you feel sick.

You pulled your hand away, standing tall as the green tendrils swirled and coiled around you, making you seem larger than life. "I can, because you left me to die the moment you chose Elain over me. You made your bed, Azriel—now lie in it. Don’t bother looking for me, because if you do, I’ll do everything in my power to destroy you."

With those final words, you turned and walked out, leaving behind your family, your home, and every happy memory you once held dear. All that was left was anger and a thirst for vengeance.

A/N: I do hope you guys enjoyed! It may not be the best after a long time away, but I figured it was a great way to finally make my comeback after so long!

[wandaslittlebird]

Alright, another professor Wanda drabble because I’m utterly whipped for her.

“I think spoken Russian is going to send me to an early grave,” You complained. “I’m good on the written and comprehension sections but the oral pronunciations…” You groaned dramatically, tossing your ‘Russian 101’ book out in front of you and dropping your arms so you were laying prone on bed.

Wanda picked up the book, reading through the dog-eared page you had been studying. “Is this the one you’re struggling with?” She pointed to one of the longer words at the top of the page. It had been twisting your tongue for hours.

You nodded. Wanda placed the book back in your hands and sat down next to you. “You know all the syllables. Just say it slowly, don’t try to cram the sounds together, just say them one at a time.”

You propped yourself back up on your elbows, squinting and bending forward to study the page. You sounded out the word slowly. Each syllable felt like an entire word of its own. It was by no means an elegant attempt, but it was technically correct.

Wanda slide down on the bed so she could press a kiss onto your lower back. “See?” She said, nuzzling the downward curve of her spine. “You’re getting it. Keep going. Try this one here.” She reached around you to point out a sentence at the top of the next page.

You spoke the words awkwardly and slowly, mentally trying to translate the foreign lettering into sounds. Wanda started tracing her way back up your spine, placing gentle kisses along each ridge.

“You’re a lot better at this than you think you are,” Wanda assured. “I could’ve never guessed this was your first semester taking Russian if I wasn’t the one teaching it to you.”

“Thank you, professor,” you teased. “I believe you’re to blame for my accelerated studies.” You could feel Wanda’s smile curl against your back.

“I suppose that is my job,” She teased, “making sure you excel.”

“Well then you’ll be devastated to know I have someone who’s serving as a terrible distraction to my studies.” You smirked, arching your back against her mouth.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed. “I’m sure whoever it is knows that you work too hard. And I’d bet she knows that you’re brilliant and you could’ve passed with flying colors without even opening the book.”

“As if she herself isn’t known for working herself to the bone,” you retorted.

“All the more reason to provide her with a wonderful distraction.” Wanda bit gently at the spot your neck met your shoulder. You rolled your head back, mouth falling open in a silent groan. “We can continue your studies, if you wish. Repeat after me: YA ves' tvoy.” (I am yours.)

You reached one hand back behind you, burying it in Wanda’s thick brown hair. You drew her ruby red lips back to your neck, encouraging more kisses and nips from the older woman. “YA ves' tvoy,” you repeated with easy confidence. These words came far easier to you than the long and complicated ones you were pulling from your books.

“You speak beautifully, sweet girl.” Wanda sucked at the skin behind your ear.

Your eyes fluttered at sensation.“devochka milaya,” you said. “Sweet girl.”

“Mhm.” Wanda did not pull her mouth away from the soft skin of your neck. Your words weren’t entirely accurate, as the adjective came after the noun in Russian, but she was in no mood to be pedantic at the moment.

She adjusted her position on the bed, moving to straddle your hips rather than lying beside you. You whined when she pulled away, already missing the warm breath against your neck. The whines turned into moans when Wanda ground against her hips your ass. “I want to hear you say it again. Tell me you are mine,” she demanded.

You obeyed. “YA ves' tvoy,” you said again. The words came even more natural the second time around. “I am yours. I am all yours, my love.”

“YA ves' tvoy, moya lyubov,” She translated, adding in the ‘my love’.

You giggled. “Do you plan to fuck me until I can recite the entirety of the Russian language?”

Wanda chuckled mischievously, bending so her mouth was mere inches from your ear. “My love, by the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember English.”

[fight-for-what-you-love]

♪ Worldwide - Big Time Rush

I'm gonna be honest- these episodes kind of fell apart while I was making this. The more I re-wrote the story for it's second draft the less this version made sense and the less interested I was to work on it. I have not much else to say except sorry this part is kinda iffy and sorry it took so long. I promise you I'll make up for this in the next episode I PROMISE

Notes on both episodes under the cut!

Sweden Sour

* (I think it’d be really funny if Cody just doesn’t talk at all this episode. Not a word. Just nods and head shakes and depressed faces.)

* Cody’s incredibly depressed after Noah’s elimination. Sierra’s over the moon, though. She sees Cody depressed and gives him a tight side hug, petting his head. She tries consoling him with “I know you’re sad, but it’s ok! At least I’m still here~.” Cody starts sobbing, head in hands. Heather is sick of this already.

* The teams get their “ibuilda” pieces and the Amazons argue on what it’s supposed to be. Cody stares at the pieces for a few seconds before the light briefly re enters his eyes. He starts building. Courtney tells him to stop but Heather tells her he’s obviously got it, so let him work. They start helping him build… something.

* Once the Amazons are done, Heather, Sierra and Courtney take a step back to see what they’ve built. It’s a giant wooden Noah head. Their faces drop. Heather is filled with murderous rage.

* We built Noah’s face (We’re gonna take first place) Cause we built Noah’s faaaace

* Tyler’s jumper would be white.

* Cody doesn’t sing in this number. Chris notices and stares at him threateningly. He reluctantly hums the chorus and Chris takes what he can get.

* (Alejandro takes off his shirt to pull the boat like a freak. Duncan is unfazed and Tyler will deny it if you ask him if he blushed.)

* Sierra hits Noah’s Head hard enough it falls over on its side and suggests sawing off the side to ride in him like a boat. Heather and Courtney agree to this. Cody has no comment.

* Duncan and Alejandro don't bother bending over backwards to please Tyler. Duncan makes himself captain and no one argues.

* When the Amazons go to pick a captain, Courtney grabs the hat and declares herself captain without input. Heather tries to argue but Courtney argues back- Cody is in no condition, no one trusts Sierra and Heather took control the last challenge so this time she’s in charge. Heather reluctantly backs down.

* Amazons catch up to team Chris in the water. Alejandro sees them approach and makes note of Cody’s face, making fun of him for being so upset about “the Noah thing”. Cody furrows his eyebrows and points furiously at Chris’s boat. Courtney agrees that yes, they should shoot their boat.

* It doesn’t matter who wins the challenge since it’s a non elimination round, but I want to say the Amazons persevere. The massage helps Cody enough that he’s not stone faced next episode at least.

Aftermath III (Aftermath Aftermayhem)

* Gwen, Owen and Noah are introduced together. Gwen walks out first and Owen, hugging Noah to the point of lifting him off the ground, walks behind her.

* Geoff asks what all that’s about and Gwen responds that Owen refused to let him go until Noah “understood just how sorry he was”. Noah insists he forgives him, but Owen still won’t let him go.

* The Owen square is replaced by the Tyler square. The prompt is survive. (The hosts throw a bunch of debris at the contestant for thirty seconds and if they dodge everything they move on.)

* (For brevity’s sake, assume all of the contestants that participated in the board game in the original episode participated here [with the exception of Tyler, who is replaced with Owen]. They all get eliminated the same way as well, Noah getting got by aliens, Owen falling down the booby trap square and Beth making it to the final question.)

* When Beth gets stumped on the last question (What was Duncan's band called) Noah yells at her, frustrated: “Oh my- It’s Der Schnitzel Kickers, Beth!!” Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling.

* (He knows this because Cody had mentioned it in a conversation after the London challenge.)

* Noah initially complains about winning the game, but Owen reminds him that he gets to see Cody again and he shuts up immediately.

* “Noah wins!” “Wasn’t he disquali-” “NOAH WINS!! Let’s wrap it up. We’re done here.”

[smakonca]

I'm absolutely in love with the concept of Nightmare losing his powers and going back to his original form. But rather broken and devastated.

He has been building his status for centuries. Creating this picture of immortal and powerful god, while others are nothing but toys for him. And now he lost everything in a blink of an eye.

The point is, Nightmare is selfish and proud, but he loves only the person he pretends to be. He persuaded the Multiverse into thinking he has no weaknesses. As he persuaded himself.

You know, you start believing your own lies if they are the only thing you tell.

And thus after losing it all Nightmare thinks there's nothing left of him. Nothing as a person.

All that's left is coldness. Coldness that burns you to your core.

But Killer having seen the fall of Night doesn't leave. Though he could. Or maybe even try to hurt Nightmare or straight up kill him.

And yet. He doesn't. Because he is able to see the things that Nightmare himself does not see. Because he knows his passion and care would be enough to melt fhe heart of his king.

Nightmare is not pathetic to him. He is beautiful. No matter the shape he takes. As Killer was able to find the real him behind all his masks.

That's why he claims himself as a flame. A bright spark which can ignite and touch the heart of the one who is considered not capable of love at all.

Consider this as my love letter to a Killermare. Not its toxic side. But rather passionate, deep romantical and genuinely caring.

That doesn't mean they are good people. Love between them does not erase all the mistakes they made in the past.

But it is a thing that helps them cope with their inner demons. The thing that binds them together.

But in reality all this shit was just an attempt to make the post more meaningful. I was just testing new brushes lmao.

Credits:

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

[mattsfavoritestar]

back_to_matt_masterlist

NO CONTROL, matt sturniolo

part 1

synopsis… matt made it clear to everyone that you were his. everyone but you.

warnings… fratboy!matt, collagestudent!reader, female reader, mentions of kissing, slightly suggestive, slightly possessive!matt, slightly obsessive!matt, mostly fluffy, mentions of alcohol and drug usage,

word count… 1174

“i just don’t get it? do i look okay? is it my breath?”, you ranted as you felt your friends hand rubbing your back. yet another guy you tried flirting with scrambled away with small apologies. you didn’t even want to try with the rest, they all avoided you as if you had the plague.

“probably just some dumb rumor someone started” your friend reassured. you sighed as you downed the red solo cup you were nursing for the past five minutes. “i wanna dance” you mumbled as you pulled your friend over to the more crowded area.

your head felt warm and fuzzy with the bass of the music bouncing off the walls as the alcohol melted into your system. you weren’t paying attention to anyone else in the room nor did you care to. till you were literally knocked out of your trance.

“yo, watching where you stepping bitch”, a series of gasp followed. your friend balanced you by holding your shoulders then pushed you behind her. you heard her voice berate him for being blind and delusional as he clearly bumped into you. you were already done with the day with the failed hook up attempts still fresh in your mind.

“c’mon i just wanna go” you grumbled. you had no energy to deal with whatever drugs this fratboy was high off of. one of the guys who were watching you from afar walked up to the fratboy and whispered in his ear. you watch his eyes widen and jaw slightly drop. you figured it wasn’t your friends lecture that gave him said reaction but more so of what that guy told him.

he gripped his hair in a panic as the harsh words from your friend aired right over his head. you watch him curiously as he started stuttering out an apology to you. “i’m so- i didn’t- fuck please don’t tell sturniolo” he begged.

sturniolo?

matt sturniolo?

“what are you talking about?” you ask in both annoyance and confusion. “i swear i didn’t know you were sturniolo’s girl-“ you ignore the rest of his apology as you felt the little alochol you drank earlier fuel your emotions into a rage. you swiftly turn around and march out of the party with your friend calling after you in confusion.

“matthew bernard sturniolo!” you called out with anger laced in your voice. you were annoyed with how your night was going, annoyed with that stupid coke addict calling you out your name, and to top it off you were met the face of someone who could pass as matt’s clone.

“woah calm down sweetheart,” chris chuckles. you were annoyed with one triplet already, you didn’t need another practically laughing in your face. “did you know?” you ask with a pointed finger. his hands shot up in the air, “i got nothing to do that, kid’s got no control of himself” he smiled.

you rolled your eyes, “where is he chris” you ask. chris nods towards the stairs, indicating matt residing in his room. you push past him as you heard yet another chuckle fall from his lips. too many eyes were watching you as you walked toward the familiar door. it wouldn’t be the first that these guys saw you head to matt’s room, only this time, it felt different.

you didn’t even bother knocking as you swung the door open. instantly hit with clouds of smoke with the soft voice of frank ocean playing in the background. matt was sitting on his bed with his back to his headboard as his head lazily rested back.

you strutted over to him but felt your anger slightly slip at the sight of his relaxed face and tussled hair. a smirk slowly painted his face as his heavy eyelids revealed his reddened blue eyes. “enjoying the view?” he says in a cocky tone.

“fuck off, i know what you did” you stated. you felt his hands slither their way onto your waist then swiftly pull you onto his lap. “yeah? tell me what i did baby” he whispered as he trailed his lips on your neck, occasionally leaving small kisses.

that alcohol in your system made your skin feel warmer. that, mixed with the fact that matt looked so good right now really wasn’t helping your interrogation. your body subconsciously pushed closer to feel more of matt as your words grew shorter.

“matt fuck. no- no stop.” you say as you find your self restraint.

he looked at you with his hooded red eyes, blown out pupils, and glossy lips. you had to compose yourself before you did the complete opposite of what you originally came to do. “why’d you tell people i’m off-limits?” you calmly ask him, you weren’t even mad anymore.

he shrugged, “just didn’t feel like sharing” he mumbled. you sighed as your fingers threaded through the back of his hair. “matt, we said no strings-“ you were cut off by his low groan. matt never took himself as the type of guy to like to have his hair being played with. if anything he always said that was for those corny ass couples. yet here he was melting at your touch.

“i’m not sorry if that’s what you’re asking” he says. you let out another sigh, “matt you can’t go around claiming me then go fuck other-“ a hand gripped your jaw as he makes you look directly at him.

“don’t even start with that shit, m’all yours” he says in a stern voice. you were at lost for words, entire topic completely blurring away. he pulled you into a kiss then drops his hand to your waist as his other holds your lower back. you pull away slightly, hovering over his lips. “i think we’re both a little too vulnerable right now” you whisper.

matt’s head drops to the crook of your neck. he inhales with a groan as the scent of your perfume fills his nostrils. “you always smell so good” he mumbles against your skin. you gasp as he flips you both over, you head bouncing onto the pillow. his entire body laid on top of you. “matt i can’t sleep like this, my legs might go numb” you laugh.

you felt him shrug, “i don’t care” he says. you remove your hand from his head to try reaching for your phone. matt’s head snapped up with a scowl on his face. “i gotta text-“ you were cut off as he takes your phone and tosses it to the bedside table. “text her tomorrow” he says as he takes your hand and places it back onto his head.

you laugh again, “matt you’re insane”. he didn’t respond but instead nestled his head right onto your stomach as his other creeps under your shirt. you didn’t care as you felt the weight of his hand under your bra, you knew there was no sexual intention behind it. as your eyes drooped down, you knew that you were going to be pissed with yourself in the morning.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

"if i say i miss you, i know that you won't.”

Summary: Cillian looks back at all the mistakes he made in his marriage. Writing to a wife that never came home after he realized too late he was the reason she ran away. Will one last letter change everything?

Warnings: Resentment, mentions of divorce, marriage problems, yearning

Tapping his cracked finger tips against the cold wooden table, fit snuggly to the side of the wall of the kitchen just beside the window. Cillian warmed his hands, cusping them around the simmering cup of honey tea while he scanned the same script for the ninth time. The words and acts blurring together in a silhouette of scattered thoughts.

He tried to focus to the best of his ability but the autumn sun peered in through the sheer blinds, pulling his depressed, tired eyes away from the scripture. It was at that point in the season the leaves started to fall in their poetic state, scattering across the front lawn and dwindling over the cracked sidewalks.

"Hm.." He hummed to himself whimsically as he watched a young couple walking happily hand in hand together down the street, involuntarily caressing the golden band that fit snug to his finger for the past fifteen years.

It felt like just yesterday his wife was wrapped in his arms, stealing the warmth of his body, her hair flowing freely over his shoulder while their legs were intertwined between the cotton sheets. Her head tucked between his head and collarbone while her plush, delicate lips pressed against the veins of his neck.

She had the giggle that would make any sorrowful man smile gleefully, so infectious, so pure. He missed it immensely.

It had been nearly a year since he saw the woman that took his last name. Marriages were a funny thing, the divorce statistic rising increasingly fast with each passing day. He never dreamed that he would become a part of such a number, not ever.

Her scarves still lay on the hooks behind the door, her remnants of clothes and shoes still decorating the once shared flat, only reminding Cillian that he was living with a ghost of a person who was still living, just not with him anymore.

The media pressed on the topic repeatedly in nearly every interview he did, questioning what was really going in his marriage. Being the private, family man he was, he dismissed these questions immediately, only wanting to stick to questions regarding the projects he was currently working on.

They slowly began to fade away, much like his wife as time passed. Speculations ever so often here and there when he was spotted out walking Scout by himself, never having taken the wedding ring off.

Papers were never signed, but in a way the void in the house crept into his gut, often causing him to just sit in the car, staring at the fortress that was supposed to be his safe haven. The house no longer feeling like home as much as it was a reminder of how his lifestyle slowly pushed her away.

No one talked about how celebrities still had their battles and money was just but an object. Cillian would have thrown it all away for her if he knew it would end with his wife disappearing and never coming home, leaving him a simple letter of her decision to leave.

Gulping, he wiped at his dreary eyes as tears were bearing down against the waterline of his baby blue eyes, desperately seeking an escape from the bottled up emotions Cillian avoided for so needlessly long.

She was a writer, a damn great one in his eyes but their schedules never aligned and the first book signing she had he couldn't push back a date for an interview. He hadn't asked her how it went, merely promising he'd make it up, yet he never found the time to do so.

Their love life diminished at a rapid pace, the date nights not so frequent, while every conversation lead to arguments, inevitably leading to mental exhaustion and her needing space away, time to think.

Their careers didn't align, and neither were willing to put their lives on hold for one another. She had missed out on so many oppurtunities to publish anymore, even passing on a job to be a writer for the times. She hoped this would fix the problems in their relationship, not realizing until far too late how many phases of her aspirations she passed on because of him. She refused any longer to sit around and wait for Cillian to find the time for their marriage, for her. He honored and respected her for that but the days soon turned into weeks, leading to months, leading to Cillian living how he was now.

The picture frames stared back at him every day, making him feel like a fool for not making time for her, for never fighting harder for their marriage and disregarding her hopes and dreams. The flashbacks of all the intimate moments warmed his heart, the arguments and feuds eating at his bones like acid did to a surface.

Stumbling into his office, he opened the left hand drawer, pulling out a pen and paper, sitting down like he did every week before he began to write, hands trembling each time as he held the pen.

" My love,

I write this with letter to you with good graces in hopes of you coming home.

I understand I've poisoned our love, I was so careless with your kindness, your strength, and your selfless love.

To you I'm just a man, but to me you're all I am. I once said I could never imagine my life without you in it and that holds true to this day. I realize our marriage wasn't perfect, no marriage is. However, I refuse for us to be some statistic we always said we would beat.

I find myself losing who I am every day you are away. I'm still trying to convince myself you are coming home, though I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, if you resented me even after how long it's been. Still can hear the creaks of us dancing on the patio, can still see your subtle eyes gleaming in the orange of the sunlight.

I understand the pain and hurt I've done to not only us but to you. I don't know if you read these letters but I won't be a bother any longer..

I just need to say, I still wear this ring every day and our love will never come off of this finger. Not a day goes by where I don't think of you and not a day will go by where I am not madly still in love with you. I need you, I need us.

I just wish for a chance to prove to you, my love, that I can be, I will be a better husband to you than what I was in the past.

Regardless I wish all the best to you.

Kindest Regards,

Cillian"

Licking the slit of the envelope, Cillian debated on whether or not this would work, but he refused to give up hope that one day she would return.

Clasping the mailbox shut, he noticed the paps walking toward him and scuttled back inside.

The weeks passed agonizingly slow after he mailed the letter.

The fifth night of the third week Cillian was sat in the recliner, lamp glowing over the table at the same script making notes of what could be changed or what expressions and mannerisms he should expose in the scene when a glare of light flashed through the window.

He hadn't thought much of it and tried to ignore that skip of his heart and the empty hope that it could be his wife until the sound of a car door closing echoed outside the house.

Like a young boy in love, nervous for his first date he hurriedly ran to the window in a rush of anxious optimism, pulling the curtain open hastily. All hope diminishing from his body, heart breaking when he noticed it was just the new neighbor's car pulling into their driveway.

Something told him she was never coming home.

The following night his assistant was doing the final fit for his red carpet premiere for "Small Things Like These", brushing at Cillian's hair until she gave him the thumbs up that he was ready to go.

Before exiting the room she tugged at his arm gently, eyes beading with sincerity and utter care and concern when she asked,

"She still hasn't come home has she?" What was he supposed to do, lie? Clearly nothing has changed in his life, nor did he even mention you anymore. Still trying to navigate through life without you by his side. With a simple sigh, he scratched at his forehead, unable to find the words, nor want to have to admit aloud that he didn't know where his wife was or if she'd ever be coming back.

With a simple look of hopeless confusion, Cillian rested his eyes sighing and changing the subject respectfully, mentioning how she should grab one of his jackets since the weather was supposed to decline into a chilly wind later on in the night. Holding the door open for her to follow him out to the car, she dropped the subject, merely nodding at his comment and mumbling a sincere thank you.

He smiled for the cameras upon arriving, playing the role of a successful actor and not allowing the prying voices to get a reaction out of him when they made comments about her, his one love.

She never wrote back. He still held onto her belongings unable to bare with separating from them. Never daring to take the ring off of his finger even if she didn't wear hers anymore.

[inmyheaddd]

can i call you tonight? - xander hawthorne x reader

a/n: i adore autumn with my whole heart but i’m missing those carefree summer romance vibes soo bad 😖 wc: 1.8k warnings: kissing, mild language, verryyy fluffy ur teeth might fall out masterlist

the sun was just beginning to set, the sky looking like something out of a painting, and you and xander had spent the whole day at the beach together — swimming, laughing, and, of course, getting covered in sand. 

now, still giggling from the ‘sand ball’ fight you had with him earlier, you both stumbled toward the beach shower, desperate to wash the sand off of you.

the water came out freezing at first, eliciting a yelp from you as you stumbled back — in turn making xander laugh, before you adjusted the temperature perfectly to your liking.

which, according to xander, was: very, very, hot.

“are you trying to boil us alive?” his eyes were comically wide, furrowing his brows after he stood under it for half a second, jumping back with a shout. 

you simply stood under the shower head calmly, attempting to get the sand out of your hair.

you huffed a laugh through your nose, “xander, it’s not even that hot, i—“

“—were the hours under the scorching sun not enough? you also need to stand under water that’s practically a few degrees away from turning you into a boiled lobster?” he rambled on. 

atleast he was so chill and normal about the temperature, so very calmly expressing his dislike!  

you stifled a laugh as he continued, unbotheredly wringing water out of your hair as you watched him complain. “i’m just saying, there’s a fine line between a shower and a chemical peel.” he said, pointing at the shower with a shake of his head. 

“that water is hot enough to sterilize surgical instruments.” he crossed his arms over his bare chest, as you watched him watch you, a slightly confused furrow in your brows and intrigued smile growing on your face.

a slow grin grew on his face as he raked his eyes over you, taking in your slightly sunburned nose, wet hair, and bathing suit you had picked out with him a few weeks back. 

he lolled his head to the side before he spoke, “i’m sorry— why was i mad again?”

you laughed at his quick demeanor change, playfully rolling your eyes and sighing dramatically before making the temperature colder and motioning for him to step in.  “just get in, you big baby.”

“oh, thankyou very much, i appreciate your willingness.” he responded, bowing his head jokingly as he stepped under the water, his hands finding your lower back instantly. 

but of course, xander being xander, couldn’t just stand there like a regular person. 

no, he shook his head, like some sort of dog sending water droplets and little sand particles everywhere. 

“xander!” you squealed, shielding your face and taking a step back, but you couldn’t stop laughing. 

“oh my god— you’re so annoying!” you squeaked out, still laughing.

he chuckled, taking a step closer to you and placing his hands where they just were, eyes sparkling with mischief as water dripped down his hair. “and you’re so easy to annoy.”

he reached out, gently brushing sand off your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “that wasn’t funny.” you said, biting back a smile. 

it was funny, but he didn’t have to know that.

“i’m sorry,” he faux pouted at you. he didn’t sound sorry, in fact, he sounded a little amused. 

you felt your stomach do a little flip, but before you could say anything, his eyebrows raised like a lightbulb went off in his head, and he grabbed the shampoo bottle from your beach bag on the ledge. 

“here, let me do this right.” he turned to stand behind you, pouring an adequate amount into his hand and then started working his fingers into your scalp. 

you tried to turn your head to ask him what he was doing, but it did feel a little nice to stand there and feel his hands run through your hair. okay, maybe not just a little.

he gently guided your head back forward. "hold still," he said, his voice lower, but with a little hint of that teasing edge remaining. 

when he noticed you weren’t saying anything back, and that if anything you were feeling relaxed, he spoke again. 

“see, would you look at that?" he said softly, "i can be helpful too." 

you could practically hear the grin in his voice, but it was hard to focus on that with the way you felt like you were buzzing under his touch.

you hummed, “yeah, only when you want to be.” you let your eyes close for a moment, and then he spoke again.

“i want to be helpful with you all the time.” you could hear the fake pout in his voice, then it flipped completely, and you heard that grin in what he said next.

“i’d make an excellent stay at home husband for you, yeah?” he joked with his voice all breathy-like. 

“you wouldn’t have to worry about me complaining…” he trailed off, “you know, except about the shower temperature.”

you let out a little chuckle, and opened your mouth to remind him about the time he somehow burnt instant noodles, and that maybe being a stay-at-home husband wasn’t the right path. 

you didn’t get the chance to say anything, though, because he swiftly grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, standing you under the shower head. 

your eyelids immediately squeezed shut, squealing a little with your whole face scrunched up as the shampoo-y water ran down your hair.  you were careful not to get it in your eyes, laughing as xander stepped infront of you and gently moved your hair out of your face. 

you opened your eyes, still squinting a little as you looked up at him. “that also wasn’t funny.” you remarked. “not in the slightest.”

he quirked a brow up, looking like he was biting back a grin, “it wasn’t?” he asked, cocking his head to the side in question.

“no.” 

then a roguish smile started to spread on his face, and you began to deeply regret your words. 

“well then, would you like to see,” he paused for dramatic effect and raised his eyebrows, “something funny?”

you were the one biting back a smile now, taking a step back from xander as you shook your head, already anticipating what he was going to do. 

“…no.”

he rendered the step you took back obsolete as he stepped right on forward, his smile turning into a chuckle as you shook your head. 

there were about three things you were afraid of in this world, 1: a bug getting in your food and you eating it, 2: getting kidnapped and held hostage, and 3: xander blackwood hawthorne’s tickles. 

“xander, i was kidding, i swear.” you rambled with your voice dropping lower, trying to get out of this situation, but xander’s face only scrunched up in laughter as he gave you about 5 seconds to make your case.  

“you’re like, the funniest person i’ve ever met! you’re so charming and hilarious, and —“

your time was over, it seemed, because xander bent down and picked you up over his shoulder, his laughs increasing in volume as you squealed in the secluded beach. “xander! it was a joke, i promise! put me down!” 

as if he was on a quest to become even more annoying he began running to the beach beds, regardless of your protests which were now coming out more as laughs. 

he placed you on a beach bed breathlessly, his hands coming to cup your face as he basically climbed on top of you, then leant down to kiss you.

oh, you weren’t expecting that. 

granted, you were both still breathless, and the two of you were smiling and laughing against each other so much, that you weren’t sure whatever you were doing could be considered a kiss.

then it came. xander pulled back ever so slightly and his hands moved down and jabbed at your neck, then your sides, your arms, anywhere you were ticklish, and you were both equally a laughing wreck. 

you tried to peel his hands off of you as you writhed under him, repeating his name surely over 20 times in between giggles. 

after what seemed like forever, he stopped, putting his hands up in the air as he sat up, and your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

“now,” he said, “was that funny?” he raised an eyebrow, “choose your answer very wisely.” 

“fine,” you huffed, “it was a little funny.” 

his other brow joined the raised one at the top of his forehead, “that was not the wise  answer i thought of,” he muttered, as he slowly started put his hands back down towards you, your eyes darting between his face and his hands.

“okay. okay, yes!” you scrambled before he could literally attack you again, “i lied, it was funny, and not just a little.” 

his hands retreated, “brilliant. very wise answer,” he commented, “well done.” 

he brought his hands up to your jaw and only your jaw this time, cradling your face like he did earlier as he placed a short peck on your lips, but you pulled him in for a longer one. 

he smiled at that— you felt it, and he reciprocated the kiss 10x harder.  

 as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours, he murmured with his voice low. “question,”

“what is it?” you breathed out, still catching your breath. 

“does it genuinely annoy you when i tickle you like that?” he asked, his voice bare of any teasing, “don’t lie, please.” he added on. 

“besides, i can be very perceptive of micro-expressions, and i can feel your heartbeat against me right now.” 

you let out a little laugh, even though your heart was doing somersaults in that moment. xander was possibly  the most caring person you’d ever met —he was a deeply empathetic person underneath his rube goldberg obsessions and masks of humor he used so often.

“no,” you said truthfully, “i don’t actually get annoyed, i could never actually get annoyed at you. why?” 

you felt his breath hitch against your lips, a very un-xander like manner. “your micro-expressions and heart rate indicate you’re telling me the truth.” he muttered. 

how did he sound hot talking about micro expressions and heart rates?

then you realized, he was expertly dodging your question on “why?”.

“because it is the truth.” you muttered back, smiling a little as you watched him pull back too see your eyes better. 

he didn’t say anything after that— in lieu of words, he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips. he wasn’t one to expose his worries or be vulnerable very often, and you understood that. he’s opened before about people saying he’s ‘too much’ and how it sometimes gets to him, but in all honesty, you could never get enough of him.   

as you felt the warmth of his hands on your face and your lips moved across his in rhythm, a thought crossed your mind: 

if that’s what you get for telling him he was funny, you’d start telling him he’s a world class comedian now. 

tag list: @charsoamerican @ariabedumb @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary

@whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle

@sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee i love u guys 🙈🙈 if you’d like to be removed or added lmk!!

[stackslip]

OK OK CHAINSAW MAN THOUGHTS FOR THIS CHAPTER UHHH i haven't done this in a while.

love, love the continuation of the previous chapter's yoru pointing up into these regular americans pointing up (possibly giving the gun devil more strength inadvertently?). this series of chapters is gonna be such a treat to read once it's put into a volume

lots of talk about how "freedom" and "gun" sound almost the same in japanese and this is clearly a dark pun, but the thing i also really love here is.... the arm symbolizing the "light"/flame of america/american styled "freedom" falling and replaced by a gun. the bit of the gun devil clearly having emerged FROM the statue, crawling out of it and revealing its ghastly interior, the sham it's always been. fujimoto's works starting with fire punch have always been obsessed with the idea of the image/representation and the many truths it disguises, how ugly realities are turned into stories, or propaganda, or even into merchandise to be bought, sold, covered up, used as justification for idleness or atrocities. belief is what makes devils powerful. the statue of liberty symbolizes deep held beliefs that America is all about pursuing dreams and protecting freedom, no matter what america's actual past and present actions reflect upon it. this is just the nature of that symbol and what it represents laid bare for all to see!

one of part 2's greatest strengths and worst weaknesses has been asa's passivity--which fits thematically, and makes her character that much more realistic and interesting when fujimoto bothers to draw her and put her emotions center stage (and makes it that much more depressing when she barely has a role outside of gawking at new information). but see this--this! this is what i want! this is what makes asa's passivity so devastating as a character! the exchange here is SO perfect, from yoru having committed the crime to asa suddenly being in her place, witness to the atrocity she's let herself be an accomplice to--and by extension, having committed it herself! we've seen that most of her power is fueled by guilt and regret--something that comes to her so, so naturally. and now she's confronted with it. with the results of her actions, of her dreams and attempts to save chainsaw man (to have a friend/someone who could love and understand her). the results of her passivity vis-à-vis yoru. she's committed this atrocity, essentially. she can't hide behind yoru for it. this is her body too.

just an unbelievable panel. the hole looks like it's *bleeding*, like a bullet wound on a corpse. sick sick sick!

see what i mean re asa's passivity being so compelling when used right. how could i forget? how could i get so comfortable? gd. also yoru's laugh is so good she looks so awkward. and most importantly she looks like nayuta did when making fun of asa after making her bark like a dog. sisters!

sick ass design. absolutely TWISTED parallel to when denji last faced the gun devil, with humans helping denji and begging him to save them. TWISTED parallel to makima's "save me, chainsaw man" and asa's own "i'll save you, chainsaw man!". fujimoto king of making narrative parallels so evil you'll feel sick ever rereading the first panels.

yeah uh i'm just gonna drop the parallel here and fucking run and die. isn't it romantic? you understand, don't you chainsaw man? you of all people would get the love involved in this?

the juxtaposition of the ruined city by asa/yoru and the children being led to the slaughter by the japanese government to resurrect denji is just. jesus christ man

[o-sachi]

─── A Letter for @strawchocoberry ✦

If you have received this, it means you signed up for Sachi's Selfship Event !

Thank you for requesting, ml. Thank you for hyping me up and the silly stuff that I write. YOU ARE THE BEST! I love you and your amazing brain. Mindy lore goes hard by the way. My ship. I hope I do your ship justice mehehe.

✉️ Attachment: ABCs with Michael Kaiser

[C] Comfort Honestly, he's a bit lost with how to comfort you at first. But he knows first hand how it feels to be down and not have someone there to support him. So he does his best; he asks you what you want and what you need. If you want space, an ear to listen, or comforting words; Mihya will try his hardest to give you exactly that. Although, most of the time he'll comfort you through physical touch rather than words. Oh, and he leaves a lot of surprise gifts for you to find so that he can see that smile on your face again.

[D] Dates He takes you out on dates as if it's always your first; Mihya always strives to impress you after all. One for theatrics, he usually takes you out on fancy dinner dates or shopping sprees. But if you insist on a more "toned down" kind of date, he won't mind either. BUT, he will always find a way to spice it up. Movie date? He has a big ass projector rented for the two of you. That or maybe he takes you to one of those drive thru movie screenings (the old fashioned kind). He will ALWAYS give you princess treatment.

[G] Gifts Like I said, one of his love languages is gift giving. He was definitely deprived of this kind of love as a child, so he makes sure you'd never feel the same as he did when he was younger. He has the thinking of, "money can be earned again," so he's not shy about splurging on you. He also likes receiving things from you—doesn't matter if it's a small or huge gift. Mihya only cares that it came from you and you thought about it with him in mind. A gift he has given you before is a shiny golden locket with a picture of a blue rose inside. And a gift he likes receiving from you are the baked goods that you make every week. He finds it extra thoughtful.

[I] Intimacy You form a deeper connection because he finds himself drawn to your genuine personality. He was fully expecting you to fall for him at first because he was a famous football star and he had good looks. So imagine his surprise when he found out that you weren't that simple. You may have fallen first, but he fell harder. And it was all thanks to the support and presence you had in his life. You were the thing he never knew he needed. However, he's quite aggressive with romance—wanting everything to be fast paced. But that's mostly because he feels safe and secure with you. He's just that sure of you.

[J] Jealousy Normally he'd be on high alert if he knows someone is trying to get into his territory. But you've reassured him enough to a point that he feels fine most of the time. Just don't do it on purpose or tease him about it because he'll begin to overthink (poor guy). But if he does get jealous, he's the type to confront the other person directly. There is no beating the bush with this man, especially when it comes to you. Although, I feel like you'd be the more jealous one with the relationship... y'know, having to deal with the massive Kaiser fan club. But he tells you time and time again that you're the only one for him.

[N] Nicknames So shameless that he calls you darling and sweetheart right off the bat. Even when you were doing your research on him and his team—he'd call you those names behind the scenes. It pissed you off at first, honestly. But as you two got into a relationship and things got serious, Mihya started calling you petnames in German like Schatz and Liebe. To him, those feel more meaningful, thus you deserve them. He doesn't mind any name that you call him... just don't call him by his actual name or he'll start pouting.

[T] Time Apart You think that you have it worse because, of course, he's always the one away for football, right? He'll even tease you about being so "clingy" whenever you'd hop on a call together. But, deep down, he is suffering more than you are. He'll try to laugh it off though. Mihya also buys you plushies that you can have on your bed. He says it might help you remind you of him (he also spritzes a bit of his cologne on them before giving it to you because he's sneaky like that). He'll definitely send you a shit ton of pictures of him and the places he has been going to. Be sure to send some back or else he will bug you for them!

[W] Wildcard He actually likes listening to you yap about whatever it is you're currently reading or writing at the moment. He'll look at you the entire time and nod along. You know he's actually listening because he asks questions. Random thought, but you two have definitely done the ribbon-bicep trend before.

[X] XOXO I feel like he enjoys reading in his free time hence the reading glasses. Sometimes, when you're settled in and reading something, he'll sit down beside you and read along with his own book. You two just sit there together—appreciating each other's presence silently. Yeah, he has started reading A LOT more because of this. He really just wants you to feel that he's into the things you're into.

[Y] Yin & Yang You two are kind of opposites? Like I said, he's very aggressive when it comes to love while you're softer and more gentle. But it works out because you balance each other—leading the relationship at a moderate pace. However, you complement each other based on your "maintenance." You like getting princess treatment and he would happily fulfill that for you. But you also like to give the same energy back. And for Mihya, someone who has lived for most of his life with below the bare minimum, your love was something that blew him away. That's what got him hooked on you tbh.

Thank you for participating. I hope you like it :3

Want to participate? Give this a read.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[melodiesinmotion-if]

Extra Content: The interview in which St. Skeleton tells their origin story and lets the world know they're not as picture perfect as their fans may think.

(Side note: because Star/Dallas' name changes based on their gender, they have been labeled as "SD" for the sake of leaving them neutral.)

“We’ve done, like, 100 fucking interviews this month,” Violet whines; her big, brown eyes searching the room for Valen, St. Skeleton’s manager. She’s a no-nonsense woman normally, but for reasons unknown, she has a soft spot for Violet. The lead singer knows this and loves using it to her advantage.

Across the room, Jagger loudly sighs and flips the page of his novel - some beat-up, pulp fiction paperback. He’s perched on an amp stack, curly black hair falling into his scowling face. Annoyance builds inside her as she glares at him.

“If you’re gonna talk shit, actually say something-,” she starts. A soft hand falls to her arm as Mikki shakes their head. They look desperate to stop the emerging fight quickly.

“V, please don’t,” they whisper. “Not today. We don’t need the bad press right now.”

They’re right, as usual. She nods and gives their hand a squeeze, a silent promise to try and be on her best behavior.

“Not after that shit you pulled last night,” Jett snickers. Her head snaps towards the guitar player. He’s leaning against the door frame casually, nursing a bottle of whisky.

Ryder laughs as he and Aspen continue editing last night’s concert photos. They’re off in the opposite corner, trying desperately to work with the makeshift table they’ve made from equipment cases. “I have some pictures here if you need me to jog your memory. Pretty good shit.”

“Oh, fuck you guys!” Violet attempts to pout, but can’t stop the smile from forming. She was pretty fucked up last night. Apparently, you’re not supposed to give tourists a strip tease while standing in a hotel fountain. Or in public, for that matter. But you know what? She gave those tourists the show of their lives for free. They should be thanking her.

“’Sides, Valen’s in a meeting. Looks like you’re gonna have to do the interview today, princess.” Jett drawls, taking another sip of whisky.

SD, who’s hanging halfway off the recliner by Violet, flicking a pink lighter on and off, perks up. “Oh! Since Valen’s gone, does that make me honorary band manager?”

“No,” the room says in unison.

Before anyone can do anything else, the room’s side door swings open. A petite, woman in a black dress and high heels struts in; her press pass swinging slightly as she moves.

Trinity James, a reporter for Sonic Pulse.

No one misses the way Jett straightens - signature smirk crawling up his lip. “Well, hi, darlin’.”

“Hm,” she deadpans, pulling a chair to the middle of the room. “Come on, I have a flight to catch after this.”

Those at the edge of the room scurry towards the couch where Mikki and Violet sit. Jett takes a seat on the armchair of the recliner, moving SD’s legs into his lap. Aspen hovers beside the couch, Jagger takes the empty spot beside Violet, and Ryder drops to the floor. He doesn’t need to be here, but why pass up the opportunity to listen?

She pulls a recorder and notepad from her bag and sets them up quickly, obviously ready to be finished with this interview.

“What’s her problem?” Violet hisses towards Jett. He laughs as his hands form devil horns behind his head. Mikki glares and swats towards him. Either unaware of or unbothered by the interaction Trinity hits record and the interview begins.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks, eyes flicking between Ryder and S; the two shift uncomfortably where they’re seated, unsure if they should answer any questions.

“They’re my assistant,” Violet points to SD before pointing to Ryder, “and he’s our photographer. They’re just here to observe.” Beside her Mikki smiles, visibly proud of her for taking charge, and being respectful.

Trinity nods but seems to brush Violet off. “You two can talk, you know? People are so nosy. They love feeling like they’re getting an inside look from someone other than the band members. Feel free to jump in whenever.”

The two turn towards Violet, who shrugs her shoulders.

“Great, it’s settled.” Trinity scans everyone before explaining how things will work. “I’ll start with basics questions then we’ll jump into the nitty gritty of it all. Feel free to answer any question unless it’s addressed to one person. Got it?”

Without waiting for an answer, she continues. One month later the interview is published in what becomes the highest selling issue of the decade.

+++

Sonic Pulse, Issue 244, October 20xx. Getting to Know St. Skeleton.

Trinity: “Let’s go down the line. Introduce yourselves to readers who may not know you. That includes you two extra special guests.” Violet: “I’m Violet Graves, but everyone calls me V. I’m the lead singer of St. Skeleton.” Jagger: “I’m Jagger Golding. I play bass in St. Skeleton.” Mikki: “Hi, I’m Mikki Riot. I’m the drummer for St. Skeleton.” Jett: “Jett Stryker. I play guitar for St. Skeleton.” Aspen: “I’m Aspen Blitz. I play rhythm guitar for St. Skeleton.” Star/Dallas: “Uh, I’m SD. I’m Violet’s assistant.” Ryder: “I’m Ryder Reyes, private photographer for St. Skeleton.”

TJ: “And how’d you get into that, Ryder? Being the photographer, I mean.” RR: “Oh, um, well I’ve known the band since they formed and I’m shit at anything musical, but my pictures don’t suck so…here I am.”

TJ: “Tell me about how the band formed. It was in a bar, right? Very rock and roll.” JS: “OH! Let me tell you! So here’s how it went down. Jagger, Mikki, and me were at this bar in our hometown-” JG: “The Velvet Alehouse. Cool place.” RR: “Love that place. Aspen and I used to go a lot.” AB: “I want to go back!” VG: “That place fucking raised me. I had my first bathroom hook up there.” MR: “Oh, god. With that one blue-haired fucker. They were so douchy.” SD: “Not me, if that’s what you’re thinking! V and I have known each other forever. She could never get me anyway.” VG: “Right…” JS: “ANY WAY. As I was saying. Jagger, Mikki, and me were at The Velvet Alehouse and this girl gets on stage and starts singing for open mic night. Holy fuck, she totally bombed it. I’m talking ‘cats fighting in an alley’ bombed it.” VG: “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, it wasn’t that bad.” AB: “Oh, V.” JG: “It was pretty bad, dude.” JS: “The worst!” VG: “I was fucking nervous, you assholes!” JS: “Doesn’t change the fact that it sucked. So after V gets up there and bombs it-“ AB: “And gets booed off the stage.” SD: “Holy shit that was brutal.” JS: “Holy shit, she did get booed off the stage. I totally forgot about that. So she runs off the stage and all her friends are just fucking standing there speechless. They’ve got their cameras out and this sash that says it’s her birthday. So we’re all instantly feeling so fucking bad for this girl who just embarrassed herself on her birthday. So I march outside, where she’s puking her fucking guts out might I add, and I-” VG: “You know what he fucking does? He laughs! He just fucking laughs. I’m having the worst day of my life and this asshole just stands there and laughs.” JG: “You should have seen her face. I thought she was going to kill him.” VG: “I should have, our lives would be easier now.” JS: “Love you too, V.” JG: “While my dick-head of a brother just stands there, drunk as shit, laughing at her, I try to let her know it wasn’t that bad-” MR: “You’re a fucking angel, Jagger.” JS: “I bet I can name a few people who think otherwise.” JG: “Oh, fuck you.” JS: “Careful, man.” VG: “Relax.”

TJ: “Please, continue, Jett.” JS: “So. I let V know that we want to buy her a drink for her birthday.” SD: “You think the performance was bad? Wait until you hear the next part.” JS: “We all head back inside to meet up with her friends and you know, fuck around some, and we can’t find them. We just see SD sitting at the table alone.” SD: “All her other friends left. They just up and left, didn’t say shit to me. Took all her birthday presents too.” VG: “And that’s not even the worst birthday I’ve ever had.” MR: “To make a very long story short, we ended up meeting Aspen and Ryder that night while we were all drinking, and everyone just hit it off. Later we took off to another bar, got fucked up, and the rest was history.” JS: “We realized V actually could sing when her nerves weren’t interfering and knew we needed to jam together. St. Skeleton was born not long after.”

TJ: “And how long ago was that?” VG: “Ah, it’s gotta be 5 years ago at this point.”

TJ: “Let’s talk about St. Skeleton currently. You released your second album ‘Born To Be’ nine months ago. Your lead single ‘To the Grave’ skyrocketed your group into stardom.” MR: “This was something we didn’t think would happen so early in our career, but it’s been amazing. We’re doing so many things that we’ve all always dreamed of.”

TJ: “I can’t help but notice you seem to disagree, Jagger. Not into the fame thing?” JG: “What? Uh, I mean, it’s fine. Overwhelming I guess.” TJ: “You’re one of the biggest groups on the planet and…it’s fine?” JG: “That’s what I said, yeah.” JS: “Forgive my brother, he’s an asshole.” JG: “What is your fucking problem today, dude?” VG: “Can you two relax? What the fuck?”

TJ: “It’s a bit weird for bands this young to be fighting so much.” JG & JS: “We’re not fighting!” VG: “They’re fine. It’s a twin thing, you know? They fight I guess.” TJ: “Sure. You know what? I think I have what I need.”

[chimindity]

What happens when brother!rafe has to deal with his little sister who is being restless during her bedtime. Warning | reader being a toddler. A/N | divider made by @marvelfanfics1 ♡ (my lil princess)

Rafe always dislikes those nights when you can't fall asleep, stumbling everywhere he goes and babbling all the time, even though you're not tired, he's the one getting tired.

You've been spinning around him, chasing him with your white stuffed bunny. He keeps pushing you off every time you bring the lovey too close to his face. -"Alright, time's out, it's time to head to sleep, your bro is exhausted," he sighs and stands up from the couch. Your eyes widen at his words.

You step back, firmly holding your stuffie against your chest as you start running. -"No! I'm not sleepy!" You yell as you run away, knowing he is mostly going to try and catch you to tuck you into bed. -"Nah, absolutely not, get back here, I'm not playing any of your games" he huffs, beginning to walk around, trying to find you.

You giggle against your lovey as you hear his footsteps coming towards you, bringing your knees against your chest behind his bedroom's door. -"Guess you don't want a goodnight kiss, then, uh?" He pretends to slide under his blanket, completely ignoring the fact that you are in his room. -"Too bad, I would have let you sleep with me," he whispers loud enough for you to hear it.

You start feeling your heart tightening at the thought of Rafe ignoring you, as if he has given up trying to find you. Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you refrain yourself from sobbing out loud. -"I have the bed all for myself, isn't that nice?" You hear him chuckle, and that's when you finally give in. You slowly push the door, revealing your small figure holding tightly the white stuffed bunny close to your face.

-"there she is, little miss restless," he purses his lips as he watches you stumble your way to his bed. You sprawl yourself on his torso, his hand immediately goes to rub your back as you get yourself comfortable. There is a silence until it's broken by your sniffles. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he looks down at you, -"okay, what are you crying for, now?" You wrap your fist in his shirt, -"you ignored me!" You whine, feeling a lack of affection from your brother.

Your stubborn reaction causes him to chuckle -"you should blame yourself for that, enough of talking for now, k'ay?" He softens his tone, feeling his eyelids becoming heavier. He thought it had worked until he feels you paw at his chest, -"I'm still not sleepy Rafey," you mumble, looking up at him.

He rolls his eyes and a glint of annoyance runs through his mind, -"listen, I'm tired, do you get that? And I can't stay up to look after you," he huffs waving his pointed finger in the air as if you were being grounded. A pout appears on your face until your eyes land on his finger. You instinctively wrap your fist around his index, and eventually, you feel soothed up.

His brows knot in confusion, -"what the-" he murmurs to himself but notices the way you struggle to keep your eyes open, meaning you are finally going to sleep. -"there we go," he cheers you up by leaving a kiss on your forehead while running his fingers through your hair. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sights your eyes being fully closed.

Taglist

@marvelfanfics1 @nemesyaaa @jjsfavgirl @mrvlxgrl @wearemadeofstardust0 @mylettterstoyou @jjssurferbaby

[idontplaytrack]

Hit and go (home)

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, reader’s on her period, injury in gym class, implied messy home life

You simply didn’t feel right from the second you woke up. You felt exhausted even after a full eight hours of sleep, nauseous and cranky. You knew you were due to get your period soon and weren’t looking forward to it because you’d always have terrible headaches and cramps, among other things. You made it to school with AJ without an issue, but once you got there, you had to use the restroom. So, you went while AJ waited for you in the cafeteria, chatting with Gabi and Stacey. 

Lo and behold, you had just started your period and the cramps immediately hit you like a twist of your insides. Thank god you’d put a pad on before leaving the house. You took a deep breath, flushed the toilet and washed your hands. 

AJ smooches you on the cheek, palm naturally caressing your lower back. She notices the furrow of your brows and asks, “You okay?” 

Do you tell her? Nah, not now.

“Mhm.” You nodded, kissing her too for good measure.

AJ walks you to your home room, Gabi and Stacey close behind. Gabi enters the classroom with you— you two had the same homeroom. Then, you two said bye to AJ and Stacey who were headed to theirs. Settling down at your usual desk, you were picking at your nails while staring at the clock on the wall. When the teacher came in with morning announcements and other administrative matters, you could barely focus as the ache you were feeling began to be more widespread. 

Every single minute you spent in that seat felt like the bottom of your spine was on fire. But you persevered, blinking profusely to refocus on your teacher in the front of the room. It worked, you made it through home room, then social studies, physics, American literature, and finally— gym class. That was where you were doubting yourself, you weren’t too sure if you’d make it through the class without bursting into tears. Dillon was staring at you, you could feel it. Then you saw his worried face and looked away to avoid the question. Taking one last sip of water, you began your laps around the gymnasium when the teacher’s whistle went off.

Lunch was next, so it couldn’t be too bad, right?

Nope. You tried, you really tried. But when Tim’s dodgeball slammed into your chest because you didn’t react fast enough , you immediately went down. “Oh, shit!” He froze, “I am so sorry, y/n.”

Dillon knew something wasn’t right when he saw you just fall down like that. He ran over to you from his spot on the other side of the gym and helped you up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling you up.

You swallowed thickly and gave him a nod. Admitting defeat, you walked over to the benches to sit down. The teacher didn’t say anything, given what she’d just witnessed. “You good? You wanna go to the nurse?” Dillon followed you. 

“No.” You answered quietly.

“You should go to—”

“…’m okay.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, screwing your eyes shut.

“Dillon! You still playing or what?” 

“Coming back, coming back.” He answered, jogging back onto the court but not without taking one last glance at you. 

You exhaled shakily, your mind started to race and the pain your were feeling all over your body began to intensify to a point where you could barely keep it together. And so, you stared into space, daydreaming. To keep your mind off the pain. It didn’t last long, however. The shrill sound of Murray’s whistle jolted you out of your thoughts. Causing something like a switch to flip in your head. You were gone. There wasn’t a single thought in your head now that would help you. All you could feel was the need for a hug from AJ, you could no longer focus on anything. The pain that was bothering you disappeared into the void thanks to this switch. But it honestly wasn’t safe for you here either to be doing this.

You got permission to go to the bathroom, then you were gone from the gym. Pushing the heavy door, you found yourself in front of the sink and mirror, staring at your reflection. A wave of pain from the cramping hits you, causing you to cry out as you gripped onto the porcelain sink. Your heart rate picks up, causing your mouth to go dry. You feel your phone in your pocket. Fishing it out you struggled to text AJ, hands shaky.

You just realised you had no idea were she was. Big you would know, but your brain wasn’t allowing you to figure that out right this second. You managed to call her instead, she picks up. 

“Hey, are you alright, honey?” She answered pretty quickly, voice quiet.

“No.” You told her shakily, “No. I— feel weird.”

“Baby, we have lunch in three minutes. Do you think you can hold on and find me in the cafeteria or do you want me to come get you?” She asks, you hear her walking out of what you assume was her classroom. 

You thought hard about her answer, then you said, “I wait.”

“Yeah?” AJ said back, “Okay, my love. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Be careful.” 

“Okay.” You muttered then hung up, cautiously making your way back to the gymnasium to grab your bag right as the bell went off. You winded your way through the group of students and made a beeline for the cafeteria before you slipped even further. 

You hear hurried footsteps behind you, then a tap on your shoulder. You jumped, startled letting out a gasp. “Hey— sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was…Dillon.

“How are you feeling? You were gone awhile.”

Here’s the thing, you could hear him loud and clear but you couldn’t exactly understand him anymore. You were fighting the urge to slip into the headspace and it was becoming harder and harder as your pain got worse and worse. You shrug. He doesn’t leave you alone though, now walking next to you to the cafeteria. 

Nearing the cafeteria, you spot AJ at a round table setting her backpack down. So you ran up to her and immediately just hugged her from behind with your arms eventually resting on her shoulders. “Hey, you.” She turned to glance at you. You usually didn’t show affection this way in school, so that tipped her off. “I wanna go home.” You frowned, “Don’t feel good.” She grabs your hand and gave it a squeeze before she turned around and cups your cheek. Her gaze softens and was promptly filled with worry. Dillon went ahead to get his own lunch to give you two some space, he understood.

“You wanna go home?” She asks softly. You nodded, licking your lips.

“Okay.” Her thumb strokes your cheek, “Okay, honey. I’m gonna take you home right now, okay? You’re alright, I got you.” 

AJ grabs her bag and your own, one hand holding onto yours while the other was busy with her phone— trying to text her Mom to let her know that she’d left school early. 

“Everything okay?” Stacey asks when you and AJ were just about to exit the cafeteria.

“Yeah, she’s just not feeling too well so I’m taking her home. I won’t be coming back, but we’re fine.” AJ quickly explained.

“Alright.” Stacey nods, “Take care, babes. I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Car keys.” Gabi handed them over to her sister, “Here. Drive safe.”

————

AJ takes you to her place, knowing that you’d one hundred percent be safer here than at your own home. You were nearly caught while in a regressed state at home, and forced yourself to ‘snap out of it’. By the end of that night, you had ran out of the house and was sobbing on the phone to AJ for her to come pick you up. That was the first time she’s ever seen you that distraught and even unlike your usual self. But she had no problem talking you through it and calming you down. 

“Baby.” She called for you, to get your attention, “Wanna change into pjs?” 

You gulped uncomfortably, giving her a nod. She shut her bedroom door and locked it before heading over to her closet and looking through it. AJ pulled out two different sets of pyjamas for you to choose from. How she went about doing things depended on how you felt, and how you seemed overall. Today, a fixed set of choices was the way to go in order to not overwhelm you. 

“Here, pick one.” She held onto both sets for you to see. You reached for the set with shorts instead of the one with long pants. “Do you want me to help?” She bent down a little to catch your gaze, not entirely sure if you’d fully gone into the headspace. Sometimes you’d force yourself to ‘stay big’, and she didn’t want you to do that because when you’ve eventually stopped masking, you’d usually have a meltdown because you were trying so hard to suppress the urge and emotions.

You mumbled a no then proceeded to change into the pyjamas right in front of her. Obviously, this was the norm whether or not you were regressed. You clearly felt safe and secure in her presence. While you were changing, she set both backpacks aside and plugged in both her phones and yours to let them charge. “You want some lunch?” She took your hand. 

You weren’t too sure thanks to the bloat. So you shrugged. “Tummy doesn’t feel good?” She asks knowingly. You shook your head, lips slightly pouted. 

“Come on.” She leads you down to the kitchen after retrieving your favourite sippy cup from her closet, “We’ll get you something to help make you feel better, hm?” 

The Campos family kept their OTC meds in the bottom shelf of their pantry. So that’s where AJ was looking in order to find one suitable for you, “Here we go.” She pulled out two options, one was a liquid, the other was a chewable pain reliever. She took one look at you and knew you’d be likely to throw up the liquid variety so she put that away. “Take this, okay? Then I’ll open up a pudding cup for you?” AJ suggested, you stood leaning against the kitchen island as she spoke. She hands the little pill to you and you took it from her, popping it into your mouth. It didn’t taste too horrible so you were done with it quite quickly. AJ hands you your cup that she’d filled with some apple juice first then turned around to grab you a vanilla pudding cup from the fridge— and a spoon, of course. She handed a teaspoon to you knowing you preferred a smaller one right now. “Sit down, honey.” She urged quietly. 

You took the spoon and sat down on a barstool. AJ does the same, sitting opposite you. She peeled off the top of the cup and hands it to you without saying anything. AJ kept a close eye on you and noticed you had teary eyes. She hated this sight with a passion. AJ hated the fact that she was the one responsible for the consequences of your parents’ actions. They had hurt you so badly that you were forced to heal this way. Your regression was always involuntary, and always triggered by your parents fighting or worse…oh shit. That must’ve been what happened last night before school today. 

AJ was glad you were using this way to heal, it was healthier than what you could have ended up doing. It actually helped you. Don’t get her wrong, AJ loved you to death and would do anything for you. She just had a very strong hatred and disrespect for your parents because of how they were like. Because of how they treated you and how they were still treating you. The girl before you bit back a sigh, and you could still feel her eyes on you. You usually didn’t care, but in this state? You were easily upset. You cried so easily but yet you loved to fight it.

AJ was learning that your behaviour during your regression was a direct reflection of how you were like when you were actually at that age. And it hurt her heart, it really did. She wanted to change that for you…she wants you to heal. 

Neither of you have had lunch yet, but she wants to make sure that you ate before she did. “Do you want some more?” She asks. You shook your head no before eating another spoonful. You didn’t feel like you could eat anymore, you felt full but you weren’t. 

“Okay.” She gave in anyway, knowing you were likely feeling very uncomfortable with today being day one of your period. Yeah, she figured that out too. 

“Wanna head back to bed, honey?” She leans closer to ask, also noting that you were done eating. 

“Okay.” You sniffed. AJ handed you your favourite blanket and stuffed toy, then you were quickly snuggled under your blanket with the toy in your arm. You were eager to block out the world, but also a bit more at ease now that the pain medicine was beginning to take effect. AJ was hungry, but she also knew you’d rather have her stay with you— at least till you fell asleep. So, that’s what she did. She sat right next to you, palm rubbing your back in a comforting motion or patting it in order to lull you to sleep. It was a simple tactic, but it always worked since you tended to be sleepier than usual in times like this. 

“I love you, baby.” She hums. 

You didn’t respond, obviously being so groggy but she knew you heard it because your body relaxed. 

A year ago, AJ had a complete breakdown over academics and the stress her Dad had put her through. Ever since then, he’d very thankfully stopped being so hard on her, and was grateful for AJ just doing the best she could— no matter what the grade was, or what the outcome was of a meet. Those few weeks were distressing for you, but she eventually worked through it, they talked everything out and have finally reached a mutual understanding after years and years of a strained relationship. You stuck by her side though— found it sweet and really appreciated it, especially since she knew the situation was a potential trigger. 

Anyway, so while her parents didn’t initially know that you had the tendency to age regress, her mother was very worried about you one day and talked to AJ about it.  Then it came out that you were actually regressed which was why you were so exceptionally clingy — you were right next to her holding on to her arm when she told her mother. Even if she didn’t say it, it was raising suspicion for sure. Once AJ had settled you down in her bed for a bit with cartoons and animal crackers, she sat down with her mom to explain everything. All while keeping the details as vague as she could to keep it private.

“So she just acts like a kid?”

“Well, it’s not that she’s acting like a kid. When regression happens, she believes that she’s actually that age. She’s reverted back to a time where she feels safer and happier. And knowing what she’s been through and is still going through, I really really get it.” 

Her mom gave her an apologetic look for how direct that question came across.

“How long has this been going on?” 

“I don’t know. But we’ve been together two years and I only found out about this eight months ago. It’s been very hard for her to talk to me about this so I really want to make sure you understand this. It’s okay if you don’t like it, you don’t have to be involved in caring for her in any way — but I just want her to have somewhere safe to heal. I won’t let her be in common areas if that’s what you want me to do. She’ll just be in my room.” 

“Why would I not want her in common areas?” 

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Mija, I’m a mom. I’m simply worried about someone’s child. If that’s all it is…she needs some time where she can snuggle with you, play with toys, watch cartoons and colour books and pages. I am so glad she’s doing all that and not harming herself or starving herself. She can feel free to do so, I need to understand this better, but she clearly feels safe here, she feels safe with you. So while I do that, you just focus on yourself and on her. Just be careful around your papi. You know he’s not too open-minded.”

“I know, mama. I just— you know I love her. And I love you, I never planned to keep things to myself but we just didn’t know if we told you, you’d be okay with it or not.”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand why, but now that I’m aware, if she needs anything, don’t hesitate to let me know, too.” 

————

AJ’s mom came home from work when AJ was in the kitchen eating. “How’s everything?”

“She’s napping now but was in some pain. Got her period this morning but something else set her off.” 

“Did she eat?” AJ’s mom set down her bag on the counter.

“Like, one pudding cup and some juice. She’s bloated and I don’t want to force it because otherwise there’d be a huge chance of her puking. Which she hates, then she’ll cry and I’ll cry so, I just let her sleep after taking the chewable pill.”

“Why are you home so early?”

“It’s not busy at the restaurant now, so I thought I’d come back to check on you girls for a little bit before going back there soon. It only gets busy once schools in the area let out for the day.” 

“Oh, okay.” AJ nods while munching on some fries.

“Do you want me to cook her anything? Soup? Congee?” 

“It’s okay, I’ll just ask her what she wants to eat later if she feels up for it.” 

Her mom agrees, “Alright. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine, just waiting on Gabi to be back so I can get started on my homework that she’s helping me bring home.” 

After finishing her lunch, AJ washed the dishes and did some chores. Her mom still made soup anyway, just to have it on ‘standby’. “Mama, you don’t—”

“It’s easy, it’s fine. I have time.” 

“Thank you.” AJ pressed a kiss to her mom’s cheek. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“I’ll cook some rice too.” AJ decided, “it’ll be easy on her stomach but be filling enough if she decides she wants some.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

After putting all the ingredients into the pot, AJ’s mom let the soup simmer. Then, she got read y to head back to the restaurant. “I’ll get going, okay? Don’t hesitate to call or text if anything, yeah, mamita?” 

“I know, mama. Thank you, have a good rest of your shift.” 

With a kiss to the teen’s head, she was out the door. AJ eventually sits at the counter scrolling through her phone until she heard movement from her room that made her get on her feet. She put her phone down and went upstairs. “Hey, you’re up.” She stood in the doorway. It hasn’t even been an hour since you fell asleep. 

“I don’t feel good.” You said, holding your arms out for a hug. 

“I know, bubs. I know.” She sat down next to you and wrapped her arms around you instantly, “It’s just for a few days, okay? I promise. I’ll take good care of you in the meantime.” Resting your chin on her shoulder and inhaling the scent of her coconut water shampoo, your eyes shut when you felt that twist in your lower abdomen again. When you pulled away, she holds your face in her hand then brushes the hair out of your eyes. 

“Whyyyy.” You sulked. 

“Sometimes it just has to happen.” She strokes cheek. AJ wasn’t about to explain periods to you when you were in the headspace of a five year old. “But the fun thing is, you get all the snuggles you want. And play whatever you want.” 

You whined, obviously still in some discomfort despite the pain meds. “Why, what’s wrong?” She asks.

“It still hurts.” You groaned softly.

Maybe a heat pack will do you some good, she thought. 

“I’m gonna go get you something and we’ll see if it helps, kay? I’ll just be a sec.” You refused to let go of her, she chuckles, “Honey, if you don’t wanna let me go, I can’t get the heat pack for you from downstairs.” 

“Okay.” You gave in and put your arms down.

She smooches you on the cheek, “Good girl. I’ll be right back.” 

Right before she steps out of her room, you stopped her. So she turned around, “Yeah? What ya need, honey?”

“I’m…kinda hungry.”

“I got you.” She smiled. 

You pulled your blanket up again and grabbed your cup for a drink since you were thirsty. Staring into space, you only got pulled back into reality when you heard AJ enter the room again with the heat pack and a bowl of soup for you. “I’ll feed you.” She sits right by you, “After we put this on your tummy.” 

You nodded wordlessly, letting her help you with it. Once the warm weighted heat pack came into contact with your shirt, the heat spread to your skin, providing you with much needed relief soon after. “Is that good?” She asked, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

“Yeah.” You assured.

“Do you feel like you have to throw up, baby?” AJ asks while grabbing the bowl and spoon from your nightstand.

“No.” You murmured, “…’m okay.”

“That’s really good, baby. That’s so good.” She smiled softly, scooping a spoonful of the soup and rice and holding it up to your lips, “Have a little bit. No rush.” 

Finally, you felt okay enough to eat something. It was great, seeing that it was 3:20 in the afternoon and all you had today was a bowl of cereal and a pudding cup. Having something so warm and comforting was amazing. 

“Hey, I’m home!” A voice called out from downstairs. You got startled. 

“You’re good, you’re good. It’s just Gabi.” She shushed, plopping the spoon back in the bowl.

You’d knocked your toy off her bed in the process so AJ quickly picked it back up for you. “You’re okay, just focus on the cartoons— here.” AJ set up the iPad for you with one hand and let you watch your favourite cartoon to keep your mind hopefully off everything else.

You relaxed soon enough, and so did AJ, which allowed her to finish feeding you the entire bowl of chicken soup and rice. Gabi could be heard in her room next door, putting down her bag, washing up and her closet opening and closing. “Hey, guys.” 

“Gabs, hey.” AJ smiled back while getting up from the bed to put the bowl in the sink.

“Your homework.” Gabi held up the stack, “And hers. I’ll just leave it on your desk.” She walks in, placing the homework on the desk. “How’s she feeling?” 

“Eh, still a little suckish but we’re making do.” AJ answered, noticing a prompt shift in your demeanour once her sister walked in. She squeezes your hand. 

There had been enough going on for Gabi to notice over time, but she’s never once said anything because it wasn’t any of her business. “Anyway, mom made chicken soup so go eat if you haven’t.”

“I will.” Gabi quirked a brow, “You want me to bring that bowl downstairs? She seems pretty comfortable.”

AJ laughs, stroking your hair and noticing that you had your head in her lap. “That…would be great. Thanks, Gabs.” 

“No problem.” Gabi allowed herself to chuckle. 

Gabi left you and AJ alone quickly, remaining in the dining room to eat while AJ hung around with you up here. There was one little detail she couldn’t help but notice: you had your hand on your chest or clutching at your shirt there, a lot. Almost constantly in fact. “Bubs, what’s the matter? Why do you keep blocking your chest?” She finally asked.

You shook your head.

“Baby, come on.” She fought the urge to sigh, “Let me take a look.” 

Blinking the forming tears away, you bit your lip nervously but your hand loosens its grip. AJ lifted up to check what was going on. Her eyes widened, “Did this happen in gym?”

You nodded to answer her question, “Tim threw it, then it hit me.”

She knew it was the doing of a dodgeball, that was the current sport for her class too. It didn’t look too bad, just a small bruise and some redness. Damn, Tim really put all his might into the throw. AJ’s never seen an injury like this one before because of dodgeball. 

 Well then you had to use the restroom so you went, and she went with you. And she knew you’d need her there because you got scared seeing the bleeding. You forgot you were on your period. 

“Honey. Honey, breathe. You’re okay, everything’s okay.” She shut the bathroom door, “I’ll help you with it.” 

No questions asked, she peeled off the used sanitary napkin and got rid of it before putting on a new one for you. Usually, she’d guide you to do it yourself but right now you were as good as frozen so she assisted, otherwise you’d be sitting on the toilet for ages. 

Anyway, crisis averted. After washing her hands, she made sure you did too and took you back to her bed. “Alright— what do you wanna do now, bubs? How about a puzzle? Or should we do some colouring?” 

You thought about it, then answered, “Puzzle, please.” 

After fixing two puzzles, you decided you’ve had enough fun and wanted to lay on AJ and just let her hug you. Well, the girl absolutely loved doing that so she immediately pulled you onto herself. You kind of straddled her, with your cheek squished against her chest. “Are you tired?”

“No.” You shook your head, murmuring.

“So you just want my hugs then?” She grins.

You nodded, “Uh-huh.” 

“Well, lucky you.” She combs her fingers through your hair, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “Do you want anything for your chest? Does it hurt a lot?” 

“Nope, I want cuddles. Just feels a little weird.”

“Are you sure?” She looked you in the eye, “Does it hurt when you breathe, honey? Maybe you should lay down on your side instead.”

“No…” You whined, “I want cuddles.” 

“Okay.” AJ exhaled, rubbing your back, “Okay, you’re gonna get all the cuddles you want, bubs. I promise.” 

You giggled, “Yay.” 

“You’re silly.” She teased.

“No, you are.” You responded airily.

Meanwhile downstairs, AJ’s mom was home. “Mami, hi!” Gabi greeted, “Oh, they’re up in AJ’s room.”

Then footsteps, up the stairs, towards AJ’s room. “Hi, girls.” 

“Hi, Ana.�� You looked back at the lady. AJ gasped, “Baby, what—”

“It’s okay.” Her mom bites back a laugh. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“No good.” You pouted.

“Well I’m sorry about that. But I got you a little something, maybe it’ll cheer you up?” Ana walked closer.

“Mom—” AJ squinted.

“Ay, es solo una cosita!” Ana chuckles.

“What did you— oh no way.”

“Look at her, she loves it!” Ana gushed.

“Where did you get it?” AJ arched a brow, “This blanket has been out of stock in the area for like— the last few weeks.” 

“I know you’ve been looking for it to get her one, so I decided to pop in to one of the stores near work to check. They just restocked.” Ana explained, “She’s not feeling too well so I figured it would be nice to get her a little pick me up.” 

“Thanks, mama.” AJ smiled brightly, “I’ll pay you back—”

“Ay, no. Don’t do that. Let me get her something every now and then, si? We can afford it, don’t worry.” 

“Say thank you, baby.” AJ nudged.

“Thaaank you.” You told Ana, beaming.

“You are very welcome, cariño.” Ana replied with a smile plastered on her face, “Gabi’s getting dinner started, I will be in the shower. Not to worry, your Dad went on his little trip with his guys. Feel free to do whatever, wherever.” 

“Okay, love you, mama.” 

Giving AJ a little kiss on the cheek and you one on your head, “Yo te quiero mas.” 

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Uh…so, I got a little carried away and this fic became 4.8k words😭 enjoy this fic that no one asked for🙂 (excuse my rusty Spanish)

[enby-jellyfish]

The Start of Summer

Part 1 of Managing the Mystery Shack

Grunkle Stan X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

Summary: Summer has begun and the twins have arrived.

Warnings: Slight angst, but that's it I think.

Word Count: 1984

A/N: Hey y'all, sorry it's been *checks notes* Over a month!? I hit a mental block due to school starting and had to micro dose my productivity for a bit :( I will try having a better updating schedule from now on!

Previous part

It has been around thirty years since the incident. A lot has changed in that time. The wound on your face has healed, leaving behind a visible scar in its place.

The shack has also changed. Over the years it has been properly transformed into a beloved tourist trap, complete with gift shop, now named the Mystery Shack. The left over rooms have been fully redecorated and anything science related has been moved into the basement.

Together you and Stan have made countless renovations to the formerly grim shack and transformed it into your shared home and a successful business.

In the time that passed the two of you grew very close, almost like a family. You work in the shack together, eat together, watch TV together, and work on the portal together. There is very little time you spend apart.

The two of you sit squeezed next to each other on the small worn couch in the living room, watching a rerun of an old Duck-tective episode, as you usually do after dinner, when the phone in the office starts ringing. “Who calls at this hour? Can you get that? I would but, it’s sooo. Faaar. Awayyy.” Stan asks you, extending his arm in a fake attempt to reach the ringing phone, not taking his eyes from the small TV for a second.

You sigh and roll your eyes at his lazy antics as you get up, joints cracking as you do so. You should probably get that checked out at some point. “Ugh, fine. But you’re getting it next time.”

You move to the office and pick up the phone, holding it up to your ear and putting on the best customer service voice you can muster. “Hello, this is the Mystery Shack. We put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds’! How can I help you?” You can hear someone yelling on the other side of the line before they address you, “Hey, can I talk to my uncle please- YES, I’M CALLING NOW! GET OFF MY BACK. Please.”

The remainder of Stan’s family is… certainly something. Dropping the customer service voice you respond. “Sure, one second. Stan, it’s for you! Your nephew!” You call for him and he groans in response. You hear him turn off the TV and start shuffling your way, muttering curses under his breath. He takes the phone from you, leaning on his arm against the wall, fidgeting with the phone cord in his fingers. “Hey kid, what’s up?”

You head back to the living room to give them some privacy, flipping through an old notebook while waiting for him to finish his conversation.

About a minute passes when Stan calls your name. “, is it alright if my grandniece and -nephew spend the summer here?”

You had met the twins a few times before. In fact, Stan had taken you with him to the hospital when they were born. He finds it difficult seeing his family alone. He mentioned once, in a moment of vulnerability, that you make it easier.

He was nervous to hold them at first, worried he would mess something up, but when his nephew placed the two infants in his arms he practically melted. You remember how he refused to let them go. Shermie basically had to wrestle the twins out of his arms.

You had seen the twins a handful of times more after that, they seem like good kids.

“Yeah, it’s fine by me!” Stan finishes up his conversation and rejoins you in the living room.

“They’ll be coming tomorrow, their parents really seemed eager to get them out of the house.” You feel bad for those kids, it’s no secret their parents’ marriage is on thin ice with the amount of fights they have. At least they’ll be out of the house and won’t have to witness when it all falls apart.

“Where are they gonna be staying?” There aren’t really any bedrooms available in the shack with Ford’s being boarded off and Stan taking Fiddleford’s.

“I was thinking the attic, we should still have a spare bedframe and a few old mattresses lying around here somewhere.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“Sounds like a plan.” You check the time. “We should get their room ready now if we still want to work on the portal tonight.” Stan hums in agreement and extends his hands for you to grab, hoisting you up from the couch with a groan.

The two of you clean up the attic and gather what you need for the room. Together you take apart the bedframe, putting the headboard with two mattresses on one side of the writing desk underneath the triangular window, and the base with one mattress on the other side. A few pillows, blankets, and some fairy lights later it looks pretty decent.

Exhausted, yet satisfied with yourselves you wipe the sweat you build up from your brow. “Do you think they’ll like it?” You shrug. “I don’t know for sure, but I think so, kids love attic rooms, right? Why?” Stan sheepishly shrugs, rubbing his neck and avoiding eye contact. “I want them to like it here, I guess.” You can’t tell if ‘here’ means the room or with him in general.

You step closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’m sure they will.” Stan stares at you for a moment, seemingly deciding whether to believe you or not. He settles for the first and nods.

Suddenly realising you still have your hand on his shoulder you remove it, patting his shoulder awkwardly before turning for the door. “C’mon, we still have a portal waiting for us. It isn’t going to fix itself.”

After a few hours of working in the basement you bid each other good night and head for your respective bedrooms.

That next day Stan anxiously awaits the kids. In his mission to make a good impression he threw away all alcohol and cigars in the house and even swore off cursing in front of the kids.

When the bus with the twins finally arrive, he excitedly gives them a tour of the shack before taking them to Greasy’s Diner with the excuse that he ‘doesn’t feel like cooking’.

That night when you get ready to head to bed you stop in front of the twins’ room. Stan stands in front of the door listening to the voices pouring from the room. He notices you, puts a finger to his lips and continues listening in on them. You are about to tell him off for eavesdropping when you hear what the twins are discussing.

“Think about it Mabel, do you really want to spend the entire summer here? We could just run away, catch the next bus home, maybe call the FBI while we’re at it, because I’m pretty sure at least 90% of everything going on in this shack is illegal.”

You look at Stan, but he refuses to meet your eye. “I don’t know Dipper. I mean, Grunkle Stan seemed really happy to have us here. This all doesn’t seem that bad. Maybe we could- OH, I’ve got an idea!” You hear Mabel explain that they could use a magic eight-ball to decide their fate.

You hold your breath as you wait for its answer. It tells them to stay. That is good you suppose.

You pull away from the door when you hear the twins settle into bed, Stan suddenly rushing toward his room. He was never very good at dealing with emotions properly, a remnant of his rough childhood, but you’ve known him long enough to tell when he needs comfort, even if he won’t ask for it.

You gently open the door to Stan’s room and find him sitting on his bed, head in his hands. Without saying a word, you sit down next to him and softly put your arms around his tense frame. After a while of holding him, you feel him starting to relax a bit.

Without saying a word, he sits up and moves you so you’re both laying down. This isn’t the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, holding each other, though it has been a while. In the early days you quickly found out he had a lot of nightmares.

You had come rushing into his room at the sound of him screaming, finding him looking disoriented and covered in sweat. Eventually you had managed to calm him down.

Stan didn’t want you leaving after that.

You didn’t want to either.

Whenever the need arises, like now, you would just hold each other. Sometimes there would be talking, sometimes not.

Now it's the latter. Both of you content with just laying there, inhaling each other's scent, and tracing patterns over aged skin until sleep takes over.

The next day Stan is mostly back to his usual self and decides to put the kids to work, making Dipper hang up signs in the woods.

In the time Dipper is gone Mabel, who has decided that this getaway is the perfect opportunity to have an ‘epic summer romance’, after many failed attempts around the shop, which was pretty entertaining to watch, finally found a date.

“Hey boss, guess what?” You turn your gaze from the notepad you were comparing prices on to the widely grinning girl next to you. “I’m not your ‘boss’ Mabel, you don’t work for me. What is it?” You gently remind her, despite knowing that nickname is definitely going to stick.

She rolls her eyes playfully and waves away your comment. “Pshh, tell that to Grunkle Stan! Anyways, guess who has a date? It’s me! I have a date!” She squeals excitedly. “Aw, that’s nice. I’m happy for you Mabel.” She squeals some more before running off to get ready for her date, leaving you to continue doing your job.

He comes to pick her up later that day. The teenaged emo boy is quickly introduced as ‘Norman’ before Mabel rushes them outside. Dipper follows them shortly after, hurriedly exclaiming he has no time to explain before rushing out the door, leaving you slightly confused.

A few hours later the twins walk back into the gift shop looking dishevelled. “Hey kids. Mabel, how did your date go?” She gives you a big smile and a thumbs up. “Horrible!” Well, that’s not the answer you were expecting. “Oh! Are you okay? Do you need anything?” She waves away the idea. “Nah!” Well, alright then.

Stan, who was counting money before, stops and tries breaking the ice by making a joke, which he doesn’t get a reaction to. You decide to help him out. “Oh, would you look at that. It seems I have overstocked some inventory.” Stan is about to tell you off for wasting precious money but stops himself when he notices you giving him a look and nodding to the twins.

“OH, er. Hey kids, how about you pick something from the shop, on the house.”

Dipper picks out a nice hat with a pine tree symbol and Mabel chooses a… grappling hook?! Where did she even find that?

Stan is easily persuaded, but you are still hesitant. “Stan, giving a 12-year-old a weapon doesn’t seem like the best idea.”

Mabel gives you her best impression of a kicked puppy. “Oh, please, please, please, please, boss?”

Oh, you can’t say no to those eyes. “Do you promise you’ll be careful?”

“Scout’s honour!” She gives you a salute. “You have never been a scout.” Dipper corrects her.

“GRAPPELING HOOK!”

That evening Mabel accidentally destroys a window.

Next part (TBA)

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Thank you for reading <3

[captainofthenautilus]

omg it’s an email from my bestie jonathan harker!!!