#like okay. i know i'm not well. but like. there's a voice in my head that's like 'you're taking resources away from people who need them'

[thaatdigitaldiary]

for the first time

hopkins paige bueckers x hopkins fem reader

for a long time, paige didn’t know why she felt the way she did about her best friend, someone who she “wasn’t” supposed to love, she didn’t want to ruin things. it was unfortunate she didn’t know you were waiting for her first. (kinda got this idea while listening to bags by clairo so i hope this makes your heart tingle and your eyes water!)

fluff and flirtationnnn (ofc🙏🏽), slight angst & minor argument, internal homophobia, cuteness and clarity at the end | this is lengthy! i hope ya like

enjoy!🙂‍↕️

disclaimer: i write nothing but angst or fluff when it comes to hopkins p, considering she was in highschool. thank you! - im considering this a “throwback story” so i can make a part two for older reader and older paige. 🫶🏽

paige and you were completely different when it came to high school. her priorities consisted of basketball, her future career, and passing senior year so she can make way to uconn. you however, were all about academics. you were in basically any club available, maintained a 4.0 gpa, and quickly climbed the rank of class president. how you two met was random, your sophomore year you were in photography club, meaning you took pictures of all the sports teams for the yearbook, and she stayed behind to talk to you.

"cool ass camera." she said going to touch it, but you quickly swat her hand away.

"hey! no touching. you break you buy." you say slightly stern, pointing your finger at her.

"technically YOU'D have to buy, this has nothing to do with me." she says laughing and shrugging her shoulders, getting a smile out of you. for her first time seeing you smile, she sure was in love with it.

"okay "miss photographer", what's your name?" she asks you, hoping she can get to know you. "mine's paige."

"i know, i see you all the time, you're like.. the best basketball player here." you say bragging on her, feeling kind of shy when you give away that you're a big fan of her.

"oh really, you think so?" she says in a flirty tone while she flexes, making you blush out of nervousness.

"okay, okay, don't get too in your head now, but yeah, you're really good. i'm the one who records and snaps all your shots. but my name is y/n, since you asked." you say with such a sweet voice, something that sent her in a trance, completely dazed in the sound of you speaking.

"cute name. hey uh, i was gonna ask did you need any help packing this stuff up, i won't break it i promise." paige says chuckling, her smile pure and full of life, an image that stayed in your head since you met her.

two years pass, and you and paige can never separate. despite being utter opposites of each other, you're glued to the hip. you still did photography, getting the best candid photos of your best friend on the court, excited to post them on social media so she gets the attention she deserves. you gathered the pictures together and created a collage to post on instagram.

you were paige's biggest fan to say the least, buying a hoodie with her name and number on it, and being able to sit on the sidelines and watch her play, with your photographer privilege of course. anytime she made a three, she'd point at you, making you smile. watching her play was something you couldn't get enough of, learning the game so you could understand when she was frustrated with a play, or if she just rambled on to you about it, you'd know exactly what she was talking about.

paige and your bond grew stronger, going to family events together, having sleepovers every weekend, even during the week, as well as going on family trips with her. you felt like you had your person when it came down to paige. you didn't really know much about anyone at your school, and you definitely didn't expect the school's star basketball player to befriend you.

life wasn't always so peachy though. you really struggled finding yourself. for a long time you were confused, not when it came to school, when it came down to your feelings. ever since you met paige, there was this feeling you couldn't shake, this feeling of nurture and love that you gained from her, the type no one else could give you. growing up, you weren't one to express your feelings to your parents. they were always busy, super strict, and for some reason never found too much time for you. but paige, she always dropped anything even if meant seeing you for 5 minutes.

the first time paige saw you, she noticed how you radiated positive energy, even though she had no clue what you were going through at home. all she wanted was to be the person by your side through thick and thin, forever and always.

with about a month and a half of school left, paige and her teammates took home the trophy for the final game of the season, and you were more than proud for her, ecstatic even. when the final buzzer went off for the end of the game, paige made a 3 pointer, beating the buzzer. you stood up and cheered as loud as you could, while paige ran towards you and swiftly lifted you up into a hug, making your feet dangle in the air.

"i'm so proud of you p." you said, muffled into her shoulder, as you feel her start to tear up from her words, and one of her biggest achievements.

"i really couldn't have done it without you, you're my motivation y/n." you feel a catch in your throat, signaling you're about to cry, and she quickly wipes your tears.

her family takes you both out to eat, and you had a duffel bag in their trunk that you packed the night before, so you could stay over at paige's house tonight.

after eating and making it to paige's place, you and paige made it up to her room, where she dropped her bags and your duffel that she insisted on carrying so you didn't "hurt your pretty hands" as she'd say. her room has evolved so much over the years, furniture moved around, basketball posters growing on the walls every visit, but one thing that never changed, was the framed picture of you and her on your nightstand, you on her back after her first win, both of your smiles bright and lively. the same picture lingered on her lockscreen ever since you two took it, your lockscreen being a picture you and her took at a sleepover at your house, you two under a fuzzy olive green blanket, exceptionally close for "best friends", but you never really cared.

that's another thing when it came down to paige, you never really cared. sure, questions and rumors spread, "are y/n and paige together?" "is paige gay?" "what's y/n's sexuality?"

it got annoying after a while, and paige and you always seemed to avoid the questions, and simply ignore them. it sucked that you wondered the same thing though. that was a sensitive topic, you couldn't ask paige about that, what if she finds you weird and stops talking to you?

you though, you should've been asking yourself that question. you've dated one guy throughout high school, and sure you liked him, (so you thought), but he was rude and belittling. after a conversation with paige, you immediately broke up with him. "he's not good enough for you," she said to you, always knowing what was best.

the real question was, what really was good enough for me?

paige never dated anyone in highschool, she turned down girls AND guys, so it made it extra hard to read her, even though you knew her like a book, cover page to the summary on the back of it. you wanted to know, but you didn't want to lose her in the midst of your curiosity.

sitting on paige's bed, you took your shoes off and got comfortable like you usually do, and she took off her practice gear and sat next to you.

"thank you for always being here for me y/n, like seriously." she sounds so genuine and would do anything to keep you here forever.

"p, i'm always gonna be here for you, you're my best friend." you go to embrace her, her muscular arms holding you close, your perfume lingering in her nose, making her feel at home.

you and her let go and look at each other for a while, eye contact never breaking, when she leans in for a kiss, and you let her in. the kiss is slow, as she tries to learn your body language, the kiss is meaningful, but is cut short when she starts freaking out.

"jesus christ y/n i'm sorry."

"i didn't mean to do that, it was an accident,"

an accident?

"oh, uh, yeah it's fine." you say, confused on what the big deal was, you've been wanting to do that forever, but i guess things weren't reciprocated.

things quickly got awkward, and then paige says something that honestly breaks your heart a little.

"maybe you shouldn't stay the night tonight, i uh, got family stuff."

you knew that wasn't true, she just didn't want you around after a moment like this just happened. but why is she shutting it down?

"you don't wanna talk first, i mean a lot just happened i think we should ta-" you try to explain to her when she cuts you off.

"just go home y/n." her voice cold and bleak, making you queasy.

paige was never like this with you, can a kiss really change everything? you thought asking your best friend a question would make you lose her, but you two KISSED. your heart dropped to your feet with the thoughts swarming in your head, "is she gonna leave me?" being the main one.

the next day rolls around, it was 12:30, the time she usually got back home after practicing with her dad, and you’ve received no sign of her, no texts or missed facetimes, which was unusual since you promised each other two years ago you'd try to facetime every. single. day. "she just needs time," you thought to yourself, but you text her anyway.

"hey paigeyyy, i'm gonna go to the store later, did you want me to pick anything up for you? i can drop by your house and give it to you?"

read 12:35pm

she read your message, but didn't respond until ten minutes later with a simple and dry "no" which made you sigh and move on about the day.

you missed paige. you slowly start to regret last night, but there's nothing you can do to change it. you already miss her face, her hugs, her lips, and how she looked at you. you open your camera roll to see a picture you and her took last night after her game, her holding you bridal style while you hold up her trophy, both of you smiling at each other. you put your phone down and decide to lay down for the rest of the day, as you had no motivation to do anything knowing your best friend didn't even wanna speak to you.

but deep down it was more than that, you had really fallen for paige, not wanting anyone but her, was that so wrong?

paige on the other hand, was losing it. she didn't know what to do with herself. there was no way she liked girls, let alone her best friend.

so why did she kiss her?

she wanted answers, but she couldn't and didn't want to talk to anyone about it, scared of how others would perceive her, worried she'd lose people over this, and worst of all, she didn't want to lose her best friend. she had to push her away, she needed space to think.

she thought there was nothing wrong with that, but it was the worst thing she could've done.

a week passes, neither of you are talking much, you haven't facetimed in what seems like forever, and her responses to you are weak and bland, making you feel as if she's not interested in talking to you anymore.

prom is approaching, you and paige planned to go together, to dance, make fun of other peoples dancing, and have another lively moment before summer break. but after that night, you're not sure what you two are gonna do, mainly because the day of prom, paige hadn't texted you at all. you weren't gonna go since you figured she wasn't, but you needed to get out of bed and go do something fun to get your mind off of the situation.

a couple hours go by, and you're finished getting ready. you have on an all black floor length dress, with small purple accents, since you already pre picked it out, intending to match with paige. you took your pictures with your parents, and drove to the school, as prom was being held in the gym this year.

you get there, hands clammy from your nervousness. you hate being here without paige, you wanted to take so many pictures, make so many memories, slow dance, and this was gonna be the night you were ACTUALLY planning on kissing her for the first time, showing her how long you've loved her.

the whole time you've been standing around looking bored, knowing you'd have so much fun if paige were here. that's until a guy from the football team comes up to you, asking you to dance with him. you insist, as you have nothing better to do. a slow song starts, and you and him are dancing slowly, until you notice a familiar face walk in the gym. paige.

she sees you and him and storms off to the bathroom, furious at the fact that you looked so beautiful, and that she wasn't the one with hands around your waist, taking in all your beauty.

you excuse yourself from his grasp, walking towards the bathroom, letting it clear out before you walk in.

"hey.." you say softly, not wanting to come off aggressive as if she hasn't been talking to you in what seemed like ages.

"what the fuck is he doing slow dancing with you? that was our thing y/n." she says, sort of yelling at you, but you quickly retaliate.

"no paige. you don't get to be mad at me because YOU shut me out. all i wanted to do was talk to you, you made me feel crazy, like something was wrong with me." you say, starting to cry.

"you completely went ghost on me, since before that night i've wanted no one but you, but i guess it doesn't matter,"

"i didn't come with him, he just asked me to dance because i looked bored, so i said yes." you tell her, looking at the tiled bathroom floor.

paige cups your chin and pulls your head up so you can look her in the eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have ran from you, i was scared. i really did mean to kiss you, just not like that. i wanted it to be special, i wanted it to be while we danced. i thought he was about to take that opportunity away from me. it woulda been memorable y'know?" she says while looking deep in your eyes, hoping you'd forgive her. “i know i’ve been acting weird, i just didn’t know what to do if i lost you.”

"i was also scared of what people would think of me, yknow, liking girls and shit. especially liking you, you're perfect, i didn't wanna ruin anything for you."

you don't respond immediately, until she says what's been on her mind since she met you.

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i've loved you since the first time i met you, you keep me sane, and without you i was losing my shit. there’s nothing wrong with you ma, and i apologize for making you feel that way."

your eyes go a little bit wider, and you finally respond, "i love you too paige, i always have. forget what other people think p, nobody matters but me with you." you smile wide at her and she smiles back, finally feeling content with herself, knowing she said what needed to be said, and could kiss you whenever she wanted to.

she leans in to kiss you, but you stop her.

"what cmon, i can't kiss you now?" she said to you while rolling her eyes.

"you said you wanted it to be special right?" you grab her hand and hold it for a while.

"yes ma'am i did," she says, leading you out of the bathroom and back to the gym, where another slow song has started. she quickly rests her hands on your waist, your hands on her shoulders, as you two sway to the song blasting through the cheap speakers the school borrowed.

"god, you look beautiful baby." paige says, finally taking in all of your perfection. your hair, makeup, and jewelry aligned perfectly, fitting you so well, she just loved looking at you. before you two continue dancing, she pulls her phone out of her dress pants pocket, and while she does so you take a good look at her. she looks stunning. a black button up and black dress pants, a silver chain completing the look. she goes to her camera app, and you kiss her on the cheek as a pose for the picture. she snaps multiple and eagerly changes her lockscreen.

"i love seeing this beautiful face everytime i turn my phone on," she says, you roll your eyes out of her corniness, but it still makes you blush. you also take a picture of the two of you, and you update your lockscreen as well.

"and i love seeing yours, and plus, this button up looks a little too good on you," you tell her, making her bite her lip slightly.

she grabs your hand and twirls you, bringing you back in, your faces exceptionally close to one another. the slow song comes to and end, and paige takes one hand off of your waist to cup your face, and connects her lips with yours and utters the words that make you happy to have met her,

"i love you y/n."

"i love you too paige."

and for the first time, you knew you had a forever person, and that person was paige bueckers.

HEY BAD BITCHESSS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD I KNOW THERE’S NOT MANY HOPKINS FICS OUT THERE SO I WANTED TO TRY! i’ll try and be consistent with posting, just bare with me 🙂‍↕️ love you

tags: @rosemariiaa @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter

🫶🏽🫶🏽

the collage that “would’ve been posted”

[yan-randomfandom]

P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader

[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft

warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense

❤️‍🔥

"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"

You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.

"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.

"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.

Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—

"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.

"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.

Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"

"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.

Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.

But he needed answers fast.

"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.

"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.

Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"

As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.

"He did say it's reasonable."

"Yeah, I can live with that."

... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."

"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

💥

Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...

"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"

Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!

"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"

"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"

"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."

A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.

"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."

🔥

"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."

"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.

From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.

"Hi! How old are you again?"

How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.

They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"

She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.

"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"

"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.

"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"

He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."

"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."

"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.

"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."

"What!!"

Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.

"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.

Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"

You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"

Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.

"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"

"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"

"But-"

"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"

Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"

"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.

Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.

Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."

"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"

"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"

You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."

A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"

"I can teach you," you smiled.

"Please don't," Dipper groaned.

🌬️

"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"

You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!

"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.

"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"

A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!

"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."

He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"

"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."

Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."

You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.

"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."

He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.

You slept, content.

🌪️

You woke up, disturbed.

The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.

Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.

Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"

You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.

"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"

The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.

"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.

Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."

While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.

Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.

You're here.

He parked in front of your house.

Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.

You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.

To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.

Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.

Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.

Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.

After a long while, Stan finally came back.

His eyes were wide. He was shaking.

"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"

Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.

"...I'll help you clean it up."

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fake dating 2 (mini fic)

Part one here

❤️

Now that Jason was leaving you alone it felt like there was a time limit on your "relationship" with Eddie. You're hesitant to admit that your feelings have changed after Eddie's dismissive attitude.

His words keep coming back to you whenever you think of telling him. What was the point?

There was no way you could talk to him and ruin the budding friendship that was happening between the two of you. You adored hanging out with Eddie at the trailer; his uncle Wayne was funny and really nice to you and the trailer had begun to feel like a home away from home.

You didn't want to ruin what you had by admitting your feelings and making everything super awkward and you were so busy trying to cover up your feelings that you didn't notice Eddie beginning to struggle with his...

❤️

Naturally Dustin is the first person to notice Eddie's changing feelings. Even after he took the little shrimp to the record store and Family Video.

He's watching Eddie with an amused grin on his face while browsing the horror collection.

Eddie wasn't normally a jealous person, at least there wasn't a universe where he ever thought he'd be jealous of Steve Harrington...

Okay maybe that was a teeny tiny lie. He was a little jealous that Steve seemed to have it all. Rich, good looks and the ladies loved him but it was a passing thought than anything else.

Now he couldn't quite ignore the jealousy that was raging through him.

"So that oh we don't actually have real feelings for each other comments really came back to bite you in the ass huh dude?" Dustin says sarcastically and Eddie glares at him. The little shrimp and his tone was getting worse by the day.

Dustin is patting his shoulder in a meant to be soothing manner and that irritated Eddie even more.

"Yeah. Real helpful you little butthead" he grumbles as Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He shouldn't be feeling like this but every inch of him is thrumming with envy. Without thinking Eddie walks over and slips his arms around your waist, you look at him surprised.

"Harrington. Good to see you" stop flirting with my girl you butthead he seethes, fuck. He really does want you to be his girl. The realisation is staggering to him because he's been living in denial for a while now.

And instead of admitting these feelings he panics and takes his attitude out on Steve. He feels guilty about doing it but he doesn't like the way Steve is looking at you. Doesn't he have enough chicks swooning about his good looks?

He can tell you're irritated but he's having trouble getting his annoyance under control and once Dustin has picked the movies he likes, he storms out to his van.

When you follow him out with Dustin the look on your face makes Eddie's stomach churn. Dustin shakes his head as he looks between the pair of you and climbs in the front with him.

"Are you coming?" he asks even though he really doesn't want to know the answer.

"What was that with Steve? Why did I feel like I was in the middle of some pissing contest?" he gulps and really he should just apologise but he puts his foot in his mouth. "Sorry I just feel a little nauseated what with all of Steve's flirting" he snaps and Dustin groans.

Your eyes flash with anger and you glare at him, "He's my friend Eddie. Even if he was flirting I'm not interested" this lessons the ache in Eddie's chest but he's still pissed at Steve.

"Yeah well clearly Steve is" he grumbles and the anger fades from your features.

"What does it matter? This isn't real. Our feelings and all of this shit is fake. You said it yourself" your voice cracks at the end and he stiffens. Shit. He did see that... and now you looked like you were going to cry.

"I think I'll walk home today" you tell him and rush away before he can call you back. Shit. Shit.

"You know that I admire you dude but you really can be the world's biggest dumbass at times" Dustin pipes up and he sighs.

Yeah. He definitely is.

❤️

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Franco is one of my favourite drivers so it was time that I wrote something for him :)

From the moment Y/N was hired as Williams' new PR manager, she knew the job wouldn’t be easy, especially with Logan's departure. Managing a driver's exit was never simple, and controlling the public narrative seemed like her biggest concern. However, she quickly realized that her true challenge came in the form of Franco, the young talent who had taken Logan’s place in the team.

Franco wasn’t just an exceptional driver; he was a whirlwind of energy and charisma. For the fans and the press, he was a breath of fresh air, full of charm and wit. But for Y/N, he was a constant source of headaches. Whether he was flirting with journalists, posting cheeky comments on social media, or creating unnecessary drama, it always ended with her cleaning up the mess.

"Y/N, did you see his latest post?" One of her assistants burst into her office, waving a tablet in the air. Another post. Another reckless comment from Franco.

Y/N groaned. Of course, he couldn’t help himself. She had spent the last week trying to reign him in, explaining time and time again that his social media presence needed to be professional, not a flirt-fest with every reporter and fan that interacted with him.

"This needs to stop," she muttered to herself, standing up from her desk. She stormed through the paddock, her frustration building with every step.

When she found Franco lounging near the team garage, chatting up a group of reporters—no surprise there—she called his name sharply.

"Franco. A word." Her tone left no room for argument.

He flashed his signature grin, excusing himself from the conversation and strolling over to her. "Hey, jefa," he said casually, as if nothing was wrong. "What’s up?"

(Hey, boss)

“What’s up?” she repeated, her voice laced with exasperation. “You’re what’s up. I just had to deal with your latest ‘incident’ on social media—again.”

Franco shrugged, leaning against the wall with an easy confidence that only made her more irritated. "Ah, it was just a little fun. People like it when I’m myself."

Y/N crossed her arms. “Flirting with journalists isn’t being yourself, it’s being reckless. You need to tone it down. This is a professional environment, not… whatever you think it is.”

He raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanour never faltering. "¿Estás diciendo que no te gusta que sea encantador? No puedo evitarlo si soy irresistible." (¿Are you saying that you don't like that I'm charming? I can't help it if I'm irresistible.)

Y/N frowned, her Spanish rusty but enough to pick up on something. "What?"

Franco grinned wider, sensing an opportunity. "Nada, nada," he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know, maybe you should try smiling more. You’re always so… serious." He tilted his head, looking her up and down in a way that made her feel like he was studying her every reaction. "Me gusta más cuando te ríes… tienes una sonrisa preciosa, ¿sabes?" (Nothing, nothing) (I like it better when you laugh … you have a beautiful smile ¿you know?)

Her brow furrowed. Okay, that part she definitely understood, and it only made her more determined to get her point across. “This isn’t about me, Franco. This is about you being impossible to manage.”

He leaned closer, his tone dropping just slightly, enough to make her feel the warmth of his presence. "¿Imposible? No, jefa. Imposible sería si intentaras resistirte a mis encantos. Aunque… lo estás haciendo muy bien." (¿Impossible? No, boss. Impossible would be if you tried to resist my charm. Even… if you are doing it well)

She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “What did you just say?”

Franco simply smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You know, if you want me to be more ‘professional,’ we could… work out an agreement.”

“An agreement?” she asked, wary of where this was going.

He nodded, stepping just a little too close for comfort. “Sí. I’ll behave. No more trouble. But… on one condition.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that?”

Franco’s grin turned almost predatory, though still playful. “You go on a date with me.”

Her jaw dropped. "A date?"

"Sí, una cita. You know, dinner, maybe some wine… you can lecture me all you want. But I think you’ll find I’m much better behaved when you get to know me… fuera del trabajo." (Yes, a date) (… out of work)

Y/N could feel her face heating up, partly from the absurdity of the situation and partly because Franco’s intense gaze was starting to get to her. “You’re joking.”

Franco tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “¿Parezco que estoy bromeando, jefa?” (¿Does it look like I'm joking, boss?)

Y/N stared at him, her mind racing. There was no way he could be serious. This was just another one of his games, another flirtatious comment that she needed to brush off. But as Franco stood there, grinning like the cat that got the cream, she realized he wasn’t backing down. His eyes were locked on hers, waiting, full of that infuriating confidence.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped, turning on her heel to walk away. But as she took a step, Franco called after her.

"Well, I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing then… Maybe tweet a little something extra for the fans later."

She froze, clenching her fists at her sides. This man was impossible. She could already picture the chaos his next social media stunt would cause. The endless calls, the damage control, the headaches…

Y/N spun back around to face him. “Fine,” she blurted out, her voice filled with frustration. “You want a date? You’ll get your stupid date. But only if you promise—promise—to behave.”

Franco’s grin widened, looking almost triumphant. "¡Perfecto! I knew you couldn’t resist." (¡Perfect!)

She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “This isn’t about ‘resisting,’ it’s about making sure you don’t ruin the team’s reputation. One dinner, and you tone it all down.”

Franco nodded, still smiling like she’d just handed him the world on a silver platter. "You won’t regret it, jefa. I’ll be a perfect gentleman." (boss)

Y/N scoffed, turning away once more. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

As she began walking back to her office, she could hear Franco’s voice calling after her, his tone teasing and undeniably smug. "No te preocupes, jefa. I’ll be on my best behaviour… unless you want me to misbehave a little." (Don't worry boss.)

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small, almost begrudging smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Franco was trouble, and she knew it. But for some reason, as infuriating as he was, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of something… interesting.

Grumpy or not, she’d agreed to the date. And she had a feeling this was only the beginning of whatever madness Franco had in store for her.

[engie-ivy]

(Trying something new. Love to hear if you like🙂)

1021 words

High School Conversations

Edgar Bones

“So, how about it, Lupin?”

“... Come again?”

“You. Me. Drinks. It ain't rocket science.”

“No, I actually understand rocket science. You're not making any sense.”

“I want to take you on a date, Lupin.”

“But…why?”

“Why not?”

“For starters, I'm a loner who likes to spend his free time reading a book, while you're a star athlete who's almost the most popular guy at school.”

“Almost?”

“Well, there's-”

“Okay, okay, I know. Don't mention him.”

“So, it's ridiculous for you to want to go on a date with me.”

“It's ridiculous for someone like you to say no to someone like me.”

“‘Someone like me’ might not want to date someone he has so little in common with.”

“Don't be difficult, Loopy.”

"Calling me that won't increase your chances.”

“You should be grateful I'm even willing to spend my time on you.”

“You know what, Bones? Here's my answer: Fuck. You.”

Marlene McKinnon

“Hi there, Loopy Lupin.”

“Good god, what's going on today?”

“Why, that's not a very kind greeting.”

“Why are you talking to me, McKinnon?”

“I heard Edgar Bones asked you out.”

“And I said no, so don't worry, he's all yours.”

"The fact that you'd think I'd be interested in Bones is even more insulting than that rude greeting of yours.”

“I just don't understand what's going on today. First the school's jock, now the head cheerleader. Honestly, is it Talk to a Geek Day or something?”

“No, I think that's in March.”

“What is it, McKinnon?”

“I just want to ask you some questions.”

“I'm really not in the mood for-”

“Question Number One. Who is the most popular guy in school?”

“Sirius Black, of course. With his bad boy-image and that leather jacket of his, but his still perfect grades, that effortless charisma that lets him get away with anything, his guitar playing and that voice, his impossibly attractive smile, and that always-perfect-hair…”

“...”

“Or, ehm, at least that's what all those girls pining after him would say.”

“Of course. Your cheeks have turned a bit red there, Loopy.”

“So is your next question going to be who the most popular girl in school is? If you're just fishing for compliments you could've just said so.”

“Cute how you think I'd need your confirmation. But no, my next question is who is the second-most popular guy in school.”

“Edgar Bones.”

“What, no raving monologue for Bones?”

“Shut it, McKinnon.”

“And how would you describe the relationship between Black and Bones?”

“What is this, Twenty Questions?”

“I hope I won't need twenty, no. Answer this one please.”

“A rivalry. Or, well, a one-sided rivalry, that is. I don't think Black ever wastes much of his time on Bones, but Bones is obsessed with outdoing Black.”

“Like how?”

“Well, when Black wants a motorcycle, Bones wants a motorcycle, when Black gets his ears pierced, Bones gets his ears pierced, when Black starts a band, Bones starts a band. Basically, Bones wants everything Black wants.”

“Exactly. Now, how would a clever boy such as yourself combine this information with Bones asking you out?”

“... I don't know.”

“Oh, I think you do, Loopy. I think you do.”

“No, because the logical inference of the information you're presenting would be that Black wants… me, and there's no logic to be found in that.”

“Black fancies you, Lupin.”

“No. Just… No.”

“Yes. Just yes.”

“McKinnon, maybe for a head cheerleader the most popular guy in school fancying you is within the realm of possibility, but not for us geeky bookworms.”

“Ask Black out, then you'll see.”

“Is this a prank?”

“I'm wounded, Loopy. You think me so cruel?”

“The head cheerleader playing a prank on me is more likely than the high school heartthrob fancying me.”

“Well, since you're so obsessed with the head cheerleader-thing, let me put it this way.

Hey, Hey, Hear Me Cheer,

Hey, Hey, Hear Me Shout,

Lupin Should Ask Black Out!”

“Oh, for god sakes, please stop!”

“Lupin Might Be Geeky As Hell,

Black Just Thinks He's Swell!”

“Please get off the table!”

“Hey, Hey, Lupin Boy,

I've Got News You Might Enjoy!”

“I'll do it, okay? Just stop! Stop, and I'll ask him out.”

“Thank you.”

“You're a nightmare. I don't know why Dorcas likes you so much.”

“Wait, what?”

Sirius Black

“Oh, hello, Lupin.”

“Ehm, hi. So, ehm, a little birdie told me…”

“Mmm, was it a cheering birdie named Marlene?”

“Yup. Look, I know that a guy like me should drop to his knees and praise the lord if a guy like you would even breathe in his direction…”

“What are you talking about?”

“That you're probably expecting me to be grateful for any bit of attention you're willing to pay me, but…”

“Wait, what? Lupin, if anything, you are out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“Gods, you're so smart, and you read so many books, while I hardly ever read, and you have such an amazing dry sense of humour, with all those sharp, sarcastic remarks, you make my pranks seem juvenile, and I wear leather jackets and band tees, sure, but you can just wear cardigans and sweater vests and still look so unique and cool, and you have this calming presence over you, like when you're reading and you're chewing your lip in that way that you do…”

“You… you've noticed me.”

“Of course I have. You think I would fancy you without knowing anything about you?”

“Well, yeah. I thought… I didn't think… I don't know, I thought maybe you were bored or something?”

“This is not about me being bored, or about me wanting to shock people, or about me trying to stir the pot, or anything about me really. This is about you. You as a person.”

“You actually…”

“Yeah, I actually.”

“I… I promised that I would… No, screw that. I want to ask you out.”

“I think it's clear by now I would very much be okay with that.”

“Good god, I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but Sirius Black, will you go out with me?”

“I'd love to, Remus Lupin.”

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment

"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.

Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.

On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.

"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.

"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.

"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.

"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.

"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.

New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.

Crikey, mate.

There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.

"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."

Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."

I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."

"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."

Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."

"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."

"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.

"Oh be so serious with me now,"

"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"

Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”

“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.

“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.

“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”

“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”

"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.

"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.

"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.

I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"

My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”

Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”

I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.

“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”

His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”

My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”

I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”

Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.

I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”

My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”

My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.

Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."

My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."

As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?

It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.

What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.

Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.

My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.

His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.

Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.

My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.

I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.

Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.

Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.

As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”

Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”

I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”

He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”

Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”

His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.

“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?

“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”

I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.

The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.

I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”

I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.

“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”

Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”

Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”

Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”

The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.

The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”

Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”

Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.

“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.

Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”

Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”

The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.

I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.

Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”

Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”

But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”

I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.

Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”

I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.

Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”

Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”

“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”

Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.

Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”

Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.

I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”

As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.

I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”

“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”

His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.

My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.

Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.

The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”

The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”

As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

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[kpislby]

ℳ𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝓃𝒻ℯ𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 ♡︎ 𝘭𝘩𝘴

SYNOPSIS! - heeseung come through your window late at night

CONTENT! - fem!reader // fluff, crack // warnings : cursing, if your lovephobic ZONT read this 😖// heeseung is 15 // ᴡᴄ.2539

en- confessions, all versions here ⬇️

heeseung | jongseong | jaeyun | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | riki

it was 2 a.m., and you were fast asleep, cozy under your blankets, enjoying a peaceful night. dreaming about something you probably won't remember in the morning. suddenly, you heard a loud thud against your window, jarring you awake. your heart raced as you sat up, blinking in the darkness, trying to make sense of the noise.

for a moment, you stayed still, hoping it was just your imagination. but then, another sound—more like a groan—came from the window.

you jumped out of bed, grabbing your phone as you crept toward the noise. you were just about to call someone when you heard a voice.

“ugh, this is harder than it looks in the movies”

....more under cut

you paused. that voice was familiar. cautiously, you pulled back the curtain, and there, clinging onto the window frame for dear life, was none other than your bestfriend; lee heeseung.

“heeseung?” you hissed in shock. “what are you doing?”

heeseung’s foot slipped, and he crashed through the window, tumbling onto your bedroom floor in a mess of limbs as he threw his backpack. your lamp hit the floor with a loud crash, and heeseung groaned in pain.

he lays there, tangled in your curtains, staring up at you with a sheepish grin. “hey… surprise?”

you crossed your arms, trying to keep a straight face. “heeseung, you fucking dumbass! what on earth are you doing climbing through my window in the middle of the night?”

heeseung slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “i, uh…  i was bored soo.. i decided to come over" he shrugs

you blinked at him, stunned. “you seriously thought this was a good idea?”

heeseung winced, looking guilty. “well… it seemed cool in my head.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “heeseung, you could’ve gotten hurt! you’re lucky my parents didn’t hear that crash.”

heeseung's eyes widen, the thought of your parents flew over his head,. “yeah, i didn’t think that part through. it's okay though.. they won't wake up" 

he reached his hands up so you can pull him too his feet. when he gets up, he gets closer to you. he gently smiles, looking into your eyes.

you raised an eyebrow. “ my mom’s a light sleeper, and my dad—well, yeah no my dad won't wake up.."

heeseung chuckled, "either way, i don't think he would care. your dad lovessss me"

you gave him a 'weirded out' look, "woah there buddy, don't get toooo ahead of yourself now", you gently pat his shoulder and sit down on your bed.

after a couple seconds of heeseung staring at you, you raise your eyebrow, "did you come here to hang out or to just stare at me? i know I'm cute and all but damn, climbing up to my room just to stare at me is next level." you tease.

he chuckles at your antics and sits next to you, your legs brushing against each other. "so.. what do you wanna do?" he looks over at you.

you deadpan at him, "what do i wanna do? i wanna sleep, but some fuggly looking gremlin decided to ruin it." you cross your arms, puffing your cheeks, mimicking an angry look.

he gasps dramatically, flicking your forehead and resting a hand on his chest. "me?! lee heeseung? fuggly? girl you wishhh you could have all.. this" he says as he runs his hands down his torso, raising his eyebrows up and down.

you raise your eyebrows, "whatever floats your boat i guess." you shrug and sigh, shaking your head disappointedly.

heeseung kicks you off the bed, "this is my bed now," you dramatically fall on the ground. "ohh you wanna play now? you'll regret this lee heeseung."

heeseung sarcastically gasps, "shiver me timbers, so scary! ahh don't hurt me lord yn". you get on your knees, slowly crawling creepily towards the bed. you stand up and pick up a pillow. "watch out!" you whisper yell as you slap him in the head with the pillow.

heeseung falls down on the bed, gasping, "oh hellll no, this means war." he says as he gets up and picks you up. he drops you down on the bed, pretending to punch you. you make grunting noises, moving your head to wherever he "punches" you.

when he stops, you pretend to wipe the imaginary "blood" off. you push heeseung back on the bed, climbing on top of him. "well..well.. well, look who we have here. sir heeseung… any last words to say?". heeseung grunts, "t-tell my family i love them… and fuck you!"

"sorry, your not my type." you say as you pretend to choke him. he makes dramatic noises as he "dies". once he's "dead" you sit up, putting both fist in the air.

heeseung chuckles, and pushes you off, "okay, so now that you won… what should we do now?"

you side eye him, "bitch, your supposed to be dead…" heeseung rolls his eyes, "damn, if you hate me, just say that" he says as he pretends to wipe tears off his face.

you gasp dramatically, "noooo, baby heeseung" you softly hug him, pecking his head. "i wove you my wittle pwincess" you say in a baby voice.

"oh hell nooo, okay im done with this shit, im a grown ass man," you raise your eyebrows. "dude.. you're 15? you can barely wipe your ass correctly." heeseung's eyes widen in fake surprise, "really?! oh my gawwd, can you check for me?"

"girl byeeeeeee, im not trying to get scared right now, still got my whole life ahead of me."

"damn… sigh, guess you ain't the realest one… thought you was my twin." you side eye him, "bitch? do i look like a man to you?!" heeseung shrugs, "a little". heeseung points to the top of your lip, "got a little mustache"

you slap his arm softly, "at least i can grow one," heeseung throws a plushie at you, "i'm working on ittttt"

you giggle softly, "okay okay… wanna watch a movie? we can watch it on my laptop." heeseung nods enthusiastically, "yessss! let's watch despicable me!"

you get off the bed to go get your laptop, heeseungs eyes following your movements.

you come back and lay on your tummy, turning on your laptop and playing 'despicable me'. heeseung lays next to you and opens his backpack, whipping out a big bag of chips. "damnnn big back activities i see… can i have some?" heeseung waves his fignger at you in a 'no' motion. "buy your own, damn, bitches be mooching off of me. do i look like a fridge to you?"

you nod, "yup, you even built like one." heeseung quickly shoots his head over to your directions, shaking his head, "it be your own homies some times… body shaming is nawwwt allowed.. only body positivity."

you groan, "fine, you got a fat ass… now give me someeee" you whine, reaching your hands out in a begging motion. you look up at him, pouting. heeseung softly sighs, "fineeeee" he gives you a single chip and you look at him dumbfounded, "moreeeeeee! i have to feed my kids at home." heeseung softly chuckles and reaches his hand back in the bag, giving you more. "okay, now play the damn movie!"

you smile, "yay! okay okay" you press play. when gru shows up, you gasp and look at heeseung. "heeseung! it's your twin!" he looks at you, raising his eyebrows up and down, biting his lip. "damn, if thats my twin, i look soooo good."

you side eye him. "bitch pleaseee, he built like a box with legs," heeseung softly laughs.

when bob–the minion– appears on the screen, heeseung gasps, "yn look! its you! my little minion" he says as he ruffles your hair. you look at him, offended.

–

half way through the movie, heeseung looks over his shoulder. you're asleep. he softly smiles, pecking your head. "you're so cute" he whispers, "i love you,"

but what he didn't know was that, you weren't actually asleep. your eyes widen, but you quickly close your eyes as he moves a strand of hair from your face, "i want to confess so bad, but im scared… scared you'll reject me."

your heart beats rapidly. you've had feelings for heeseung since as long as you can remember.

you turned around, looking at him with soft eyes. you gently place you hands on his face as his eyes widen. "i-i umm" he stutters. you giggle, "you're soo stupid" you say in a loving voice. "my stupid bestfriend.. that for some reason… i have feelings for" you squish his cheeks.

heeseungs face heats up and you giggle. he blinks, his breath hitching as your words sink in. "w-wait, you... you feel the same?" His voice is barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours, unsure if he heard you right.

you nod, your heart thudding in your chest. "yeah, dummy," you tease with a small smile, though your nerves are bubbling beneath the surface. "i've liked you for a long time... I just never thought you'd feel the same."

his hands move to gently cover yours, which are still cradling his face. his thumb softly grazes your knuckles as he leans into your touch, his eyes glimmering with a mix of relief and disbelief. "i like you so much… not even like, i love you… damn, BRO why are you so confusing? its like sometimes i thought you liked me back, but than sometimes it felt platonic. sigh.. girls are sooo confusing"

"okay okay, chill dude. i was just scared that you didn't like me back, thought it was gonna fuck up our friendship." you bite your lip, a habit you picked up when you get nervous. "me too" heeseung responded, "i thought you were gonna reject me"

You smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you both. "i guess we're both scared of the same thing, huh?"

heeseung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a sound so familiar yet different now. "yeah... but I'm not scared anymore," he whispers before slowly leaning in, his gaze flicking to your lips, giving you a chance to pull away.

but you don't. Instead, you close the space between you, sealing the confession with a tender kiss. it's soft, slow, and filled with all the unspoken words that had been building between you for years.

when you finally pull away, you both sit there in the quiet, staring at each other, breathless and overwhelmed.

"I love you," heeseung says again, this time with full confidence, his voice steady.

your heart swells as you smile up at him. "I love you too... you big idiot."

heeseung speaks up after a couple seconds of silence, "i wanted to tell you that for so long… i actually came here just to tell you that, but then i chickened out"

you softly smile. “so, you risked your life climbing up to my room just to tell me you liked me?”

heeseung let out an awkward laugh. “yeah… pretty much.”

you couldn’t stop the giggles that bubbled up inside you. “you’re insane. but… it’s sweet.”

heeseung softly pecked your hand that was still on his face, laughing softly. “worth it.”

you giggled, "you know… you could have just asked me tomorrow right? you know, like a normal person?"

“where’s the fun in that?” heeseung smirked, his eyes twinkling.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “you’re impossible.”

“but you like me anyway,” heeseung said with a teasing grin.

“yeah, i guess i do,” you admitted, feeling your face heat up.

he gently tugged you toward your bed, and the two of you sat down on the edge. after a moment of comfortable silence, you lay down, pulling the covers over both of you. heeseung lay beside you, his arm resting lightly over your waist.

you snuggled closer to him, feeling your heart race as his warmth enveloped you. for a few minutes, neither of you spoke. the only sounds in the room were your soft breathing and the faint creaks of the house as it settled for the night.

“hey, y/n?” heeseung whispered after a while.

“yeah?” you whispered back, your eyes heavy with sleep.

"are we.. a thing now?" he asked. you look over at him, grining. you nod your head, biting your lip. "mhm"

heeseung smiled, hugging you closer. "also… sorry i came so late, i just couldn't sleep, and i kept on thinking about you."

you smiled, your eyes fluttering closed. “it’s okay. it’s very… you. and it was kinda funny but kinda cute.”

heeseung let out a quiet laugh. “yeah? you like 'em like that? …weirdo” he laughed softly as you gently slapped his chest. "only you,"

he smiled, pecking your lips. "good,"

you didn’t respond, feeling sleep pulling you under. but before you drifted off completely, you felt heeseung press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“goodnight, y/n,” he whispered.

you mumbled something in response, too sleepy to form real words, and slowly, the world faded away.

-

the next morning, you were woken up by the sound of someone knocking on your door. your eyes shot open, and you immediately realized that heeseung was still lying beside you, fast asleep. panic surged through you.

“y/n, are you up?” your mom’s voice called from the other side of the door.

you bolted upright, shaking heeseung awake. “heeseung! wake up! my mom’s coming!”

heeseung groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes. “huh? what time is it?”

“there’s no time! you need to hide!” you whispered frantically, pushing him off the bed.

heeseung stumbled, still half-asleep. “what? why?”

“my mom’s at the door, you idiot!” you hissed, shoving him toward your closet. “just hide in there!”

heeseung’s eyes widened in realization, and he scrambled into the closet just as the door opened. your mom poked her head in, smiling at you.

“good morning, honey. you’re up early,” she said cheerfully.

you forced a smile, trying not to look suspicious. “yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

your mom glanced around your room, her eyes lingering on the mess near the window. “what happened here?”

you laughed nervously. “oh, just knocked over my lamp in the middle of the night. no big deal.”

your mom raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “okay, well, breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”

“thanks, mom. i’ll be down in a minute,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest.

as soon as she left, you rushed over to the closet and opened the door. heeseung tumbled out, looking a bit disheveled but relieved.

“that was close,” he whispered, his eyes wide.

“you think?” you whispered back, smacking his arm. “now get out of here before my dad wakes up.”

heeseung chuckled, rubbing his arm. “okay, okay, i’m going.”

he made his way to the window, pausing to give you one last kiss on your lips, “last night was fun. let’s do it again sometime.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “not a chance.”

heeseung winked and climbed out the window, much more carefully this time. as he disappeared from sight, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

despite the chaos, it was a night you’d never forget.

kpi’s notes 📝- heeseung is sooooo bestfriend coded! ahh i hope you guys like it 💗💗

perm taglist : @orimuraa @seodgaf

[zorrasucia]

look at how well you take me. even though it's been so long.

for carmy x reader PLEASE

Hello Anon! 💜

Gladly! I wrote this as a loose sequel to this, though it's only relevant in that Reader is Chef Terry's goddaughter and they met back in Copenhagen. I hope you like it! 😊

Carmy burst through the door of your hiding spot, making you jump in shock.

"Fuck!" he cursed. "Sorry, thought this was empty."

He was about to leave without even looking at you and you reached for him.

"Carmy?" you held his wrist.

He finally saw your face. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed and immediately enveloped you in a tight hug.

You hadn't seen each other in literal years but even so, his hold felt a little too intense and desperate.

"You okay?" you whispered.

"Um, I don't- I don't know," his voice broke and you could hear the tears he was holding back.

"It's okay, Carm," you squeezed him, putting more of your weight into the hug. "I'm right here."

You stayed there, running your fingers soothingly on his shoulders and the nape of his neck.

He sniffled. "You're here," he repeated. After a pause he mumbled: "Why are you here?"

"I came for the funeral," you replied quietly. You thought it would be obvious, given that you were both inside the cloakroom of Aunt Terry's restaurant but Carmy seemed very disoriented. "I couldn't miss it. It's Ever."

"It's Ever," Carmy hummed in agreement. "Uh, I meant what are you doing here in the cloakroom."

"I'm not made for networking," you sighed. "I needed a break. And, well, I don't smoke - so the cloakroom seemed a good idea."

"I'm trying to quit smoking. Maybe you're right and this is a good spot," he said gently.

He took a step back, a little more collected, even if his eyes still looked teary in the halflit room.

You smiled. "It's good to see you, Carm. I thought you were still in New York," you said and it felt a little too formal for the way you were holding each other just seconds ago.

"No, I've been, uh, been in Chicago the last few months... Two years now, shit..." it seemed like he was realizing it just as he was saying it.

"Is it nice? Being home?" you asked, tilting your head, studying his reaction.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I opened a restaurant that might close next week if we don't get a good review but, uh, you know," he said flatly.

You reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles.

"Is that why you're upset?"

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Just now? Like I get how it would be upsetting to attend a funeral when your own restaurant might-" you explained your reasoning.

"Oh! No, it's not-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I, uh, ran into my asshole boss. From New York. He's- He messed me up real bad," he was still avoiding your gaze but he let you cup his face, comforting him. "So I, I confronted him and he, uh, he thinks he did me a favor. Like, shit, I knew he was a fucking psychopath but he doesn't even care. He doesn't-"

His voice broke again and you brought him back into your arms, his face tucked to the side of your neck, tears wetting your skin.

"It's okay. You're okay," you caressed his hair. "I'm right here, Carmy."

He nodded, unable to speak for a while. He squeezed you, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

"Missed you too," you soothed.

Slowly, his head turned and he started leaving kisses up the side of your neck, to your jaw, the side of your face, the corner of your mouth...

"This okay?" he asked, tracing the same sensual path on the other side of your neck.

"You're not thinking straight, Carm," you hummed, not making any effort to move away from his reach, carding your hands through his hair and bringing him closer instead. "You're angry. And sad."

It was so easy to forget that a few years had passed and this wasn't the Carmy you knew and cared for back in Copenhagen, not anymore.

"I'm tired of fucking thinking," he slurred, running his hands over your sides hungrily. "I want things to go quiet just for a while."

You melted, his hands breaking down whatever small resolve you had.

"Okay," you agreed, dragging him by the neck to press your lips against his.

Carmy gave you desperate kisses as he cornered you against the wall. He cupped your breasts over your dress, humming appreciatively at the low neckline.

"You look so fucking nice," he growled.

His left hand bunched up the side of your dress, trying to caress your leg. You giggled.

"Don't remember you being ticklish" he remarked, cocking his head.

"I'm not," you guided his right hand up your opposite thigh, to the high slit of your dress, giving him plenty of access without bunching up the dress.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned, his calloused hands quickly finding the edge of your lace panties. "Can I -?"

You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and looking at the new tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Please. I need your fingers," you whined.

Carmy didn't make you wait, pushing your underwear down your legs, caressing your pussy, already wet for him. He kissed your collarbone and the tops of your breasts while tracing lines between your folds, a low squelching sound coming from underneath your dress as he inserted two digits at once.

"Shit."

"My clit," you begged, angling your hips so his thumb pressed the exact spot.

He started moving, a quick and unforgiving rhythm making you melt in his arms, rolling your hips and moaning, holding tight to his shoulders to stand upright.

"Close?" he rasped.

"So fucking close."

"Will you let me fuck you against the wall after you cum?" he asked low.

It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly your pussy was fluttering around his fingers. He covered your mouth with his free hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, Carmy," you panted, holding the wall for support while he unbuckled his belt.

"Shit," he stopped in his tracks and started going through the coats and jackets that were hanging on the opposite wall.

"Carm? What are you doing?"

"Just a sec," he mumbled. Once he found an informal leather jacket, he started going through its many pockets. "Come on, Richie," he whispered, then smiled in triumph as he took out a condom from the inside pocket.

"Should I ask?" you grinned, entertained watching Carmy unbutton his trousers, pump himself and roll the condom on.

"Better not," he stood in front of you, one of your arms rounded his shoulders, your free hand held his cock.

"You've always been a handful," you said - the flirtatious play on words taking you back years ago, to Copenhagen, and the first time he fucked you.

"Hmm," he closed his eyes in pleasure, completely at your mercy as you lined him up to your pussy.

He pushed lightly, an inch, then another. You whined at the stretch. "You okay?"

"It's good, so good," you managed, holding on to his shoulders, "just go slow."

Carmy nodded, the gentle movement of his hips like the swaying boat where you so often had shared a bed. You were letting out needy sounds and muffling them into your hand, as he got deeper and deeper. You encouraged him, bringing him closer by squeezing his ass, scratching at his pale skin until he was buried inside you to the hilt.

"Carm..."

He stayed still for a moment, kissing you tenderly.

"Need this," he mumbled against your lips. "Need you."

"Yeah?" you teased, circling your hips, making him moan. "How much?"

"A lot," he said, hips moving backwards slowly, his cock almost all the way out. Then, he drove back into you, quick, hard. You bit your lip to silence a high pitched moan. "A lot - a lot."

He grabbed your thighs, pressing you against the wall, lifting you.

"Fast and hard?" you suggested. You usually liked to take your time but fucking inside a closet - albeit a fancy one - asked for practicality and speed. And Carmy needed to blow off some steam.

He nodded, speechless as he started building a quick pace, driving into you like his life depended on it. You held him close, resorting to bite on the shoulder pad of his suit jacket to stay quiet.

"Wait," Carmy moved slightly, enough to press his forehead to yours and look down, hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared inside your pussy. Carmy's eyes widened, pupils blown and mouth half open. "Look at how well you take me. Even though it's been so long," he mumbled and you knew deep inside that it wasn't a line. He was truly dazed and euphoric that this was happening.

"Carm," you pleaded. "Let go for me, baby. I know you need it."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mhmm," he agreed, panting. "'m close."

You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching with satisfaction as that simple effort made him lose control, rutting messily, soft grunts leaving his lips as he came hard.

"Shit," he cursed, his lips on the side of your face.

You exhaled, content, as he let you down, landing on one foot then the other. Your heels were on the floor, somewhere, lost while your legs shook around Carmy's waist. "Better? Stopped thinking for a bit?" you inquired a little cockily.

"Not sure where we are right now, to be honest," he drawled.

"Good."

[swanimagines]

Hola can i request a Morpheus x f!Reader fic where her son is running over all the palace because he doesn’t want to take a bath?

Sorry English is not my first language

A/N: Ahem ahem, excuse me... this may be the first time in a very long time I'm actually genuinely HAPPY with something I wrote?? If there's a writing deity or a saint, I will pray to them and hope for this kind of skill and motivation and inspiration and whatever hell I need to produce THIS kind of content in the future too, thanks bye!

"Aridus!" your voice echoed through the grand corridors as you chased after your son, who had decided today was not the day for a bath. He turned around slightly, his face scrunched up in anger.

“I don’t want to take a bath!” he declared for the hundredth time, before taking a turn to yet another maze of hallways. You let out a frustrated groan, even though you tried to keep it in.

“I know, sweetie, but after all that playing with Goldie, you’re all muddy, I can’t let you go to bed like that!” You stopped, as you took the turn to where he went. “Aridus, please just—”

“No! I don’t want to sleep either!” His voice echoed through the hallway, it was impossible to know which nook he took as a hiding place. “Daddy never sleeps either!”

It was true, the everlasting bickering with him. Why is daddy able to go around day and night, why can’t he stay up to play all night as well. But the thing was, Aridus was your offspring too, and you were originally from the Waking world — and you needed sleep, so Aridus needed sleep too. Your husband had told you that Aridus may need less sleep than a “regular” human as he grows up, but as a toddler he was just like regular children were. Getting tantrums out of being tired, while the tantrum is about not wanting to go to sleep. “I know sweetie, but he’s–”

“No!” he screamed, and you heard the patter of feet going further again.

You barely heard Morpheus coming to stand beside you, but you felt his presence and turned to look at him. “I can’t catch him. He’s persistent and knows how to tire me out.”

Morpheus's lips had a small hint of a smile. “He is much like you, then.”

Morpheus smiled properly now, inclining his head forward. “True.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Me? Are you sure? You’re the one who’s refusing to listen to any other opinions of change when you’ve already decided the ‘best’ way. I think he’s more like you than me.”

A loud crash interrupted the sound of running, and you heard something rolling through the floor, followed by a soft thud and a whimper from Adrius. You walked forward with Morpheus following close behind, and discovered the source. Aridus had collided with one of the pedestals, which had sent a stack of dream scrolls all over the room. You moved to stand in front of him and brought your hands to your hips, sighing.

Suddenly your son, who had been so angry just a moment earlier, looked more remorseful as ever. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

Before you could answer, you felt Morpheus’s hand on your shoulder. “Allow me, my love.”

Aridus sat there frozen in place, looking at his father kneeling in front of him. Morpheus reached out, carefully tucking a curl of hair behind Aridus’s ear. “Do you know why we need to take baths, Aridus?”

Aridus’s shoulders slumped. “I know, father. Mother doesn’t want my bed to get dirty. But I don’t like to get wet.”

Morpheus shook his head. “It is not only because we get dirty. Every day, all living beings get dream dust on them. If there’s too much of it, it weighs us down. It affects our mood and eventually… it may make us fall asleep and never again wake up. Be stuck in nightmares forever, and not even I would be able to help.”

Aridus stared at his father, his mouth opening slightly before he whispered, “Stuck?”

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. Even the stars must cleanse themselves of the night sometimes.”

For a moment, Aridus stared at the floor, clearly trying to contemplate his options. But eventually, he looked up again and nodded. “Okay.”

You smiled slightly, ushering him towards the bathroom before you looked back at your husband, who was left cleaning the mess up.

—

Later, when you watched your son sleeping in his little bed from the doorway, you felt a slight gust of air as Morpheus appeared to your side again. You smiled at him and whispered, “You’re good at making up stories. I think he’ll be much more willing to take baths in the future.”

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on your son. “I merely spoke the truth.”

You frowned. “Really?”

He turned towards you slightly. “Yes. Well, maybe I dramatised it a little, but much of it was true. Even stars need to be born anew sometimes. They too resist, hang on, but ultimately they yield and give way to new stars. Just like our son did.”

You nodded and let yourself lean against him slightly. "I’ll admit, I was starting to lose hope there for a moment. I didn’t think anything could convince him to take a bath, let alone willingly. He certainly takes after both of us. I thought I'd never tire him out, but you…” you murmured and looked at him. “You have a way with him. Maybe I should let you handle all the tantrums from now on."

Morpheus pushed you away slightly, tracing his fingers against your bare arm. "I would handle them all, if you so wished," he whispered. "But I believe Aridus needs you as much as he needs me. You are his anchor to both worlds. Without you, he might wander too far in the night."

You smiled a little at that. Morpheus certainly knew his way through words, it was in his nature, in how he was created, sure, but you felt like he had learned a thing or two from love since he fell in love with you all those centuries ago.

You sighed, looking at your sleeping son. “He seems to like wandering. He has told me so many times he wants to be just like you, and I don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t possible.”

Morpheus was quiet for a moment, running his hand up and down your arm. “He must learn to walk in both worlds because when the time comes… Waking world may call out to him. In any case, balance is essential. And he must learn to control and thrive, whatever his place will end up being.”

You swallowed, remembering that once your son grows up, he may only be able to visit you at night. You’d watch him grow old year by year, and only get him back once he dies. Which will take centuries, if not even millennials with his Endless blood. And even then, he may choose the Land of the Dead if he has loved ones there. But Morpheus made it sound… like it was natural. Which it of course was, you reminded yourself. “You make it sound so simple. That it will be simple to accept it.”

"Simple, no. But necessary, yes." His hand stilled on your arm.. "And you, my love, have always excelled at guiding him in ways I cannot."

You were quiet for a moment again. “I just don’t want him to grow up so fast.”

He was quiet for a moment too, taking in a deep breath. “I wish he did not grow so fast either. But moments like these, they will linger. Forever, if necessary. We need not fear losing him.”

You nodded, finally closing the door and following Morpheus towards the throne room. “I guess I should just remember he’s going to be a half-deity like you. And that hopefully he’s going to make the world a better place.”

Morpheus turned to look at you, taking your hands in his. “He will have both of us with him when he enters the Waking world, and be more than us. He will be a dream, but also a heartbeat. And that, my love, is his gift.”

You swallowed, but then closed your eyes and dropped your face towards the floor. “I know. As long as he has both of us in him, he’ll be alright.”

Morpheus cupped your cheek, tilting your head to look at him again. “He will thrive. He will flourish in ways we cannot yet even imagine.”

You nodded, glancing back towards Aridus’s room and then you turned back to Morpheus. “I love you.”

His smile appeared again, an expression only reserved for you before he kissed your forehead. “And I, you. Always.”

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[iihandsiiheavn]

ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - First Kiss - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx finds sympathy in an unlikely quarter...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"I've gotta ask a question," Vi says. "And I need an honest answer. No games. No riddles. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Last night. When you dipped out on the dinner. Did you... meet anyone?"

"What? Like, a fling?" Jinx's smile cuts into the curve of Vi's neck. "'Cause, yeah, sis. You're not the only one getting busy."

"I'm serious. Did you meet somebody?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe, what?"

"Maybe I did."  There's a singsongy tenor in her voice, one that's not entirely fake. But also, Vi can't help but think, distressingly sad in its lightness. "Maybe I didn't." 

"And whoever it is, did he hurt you?"

"How d'you know it was a guy?"

"Just a feeling."

"Hm. You're smarter than you look."

"Answer the question." 

Silence, but it's not the kind that Jinx wields as her ally. It's a silence with a heartbeat: the girlish giddy-up of excitement, undercut by a deeper, darker pulse of uncertainty. 

Vi thinks of how there are hunches that go gut-deep. Others that stop just shy of the liver. She knows—gut-deep—that Powder could sense when Vi lost her virginity to Nao. Her sister was too little then, and too innocent, to fully understand what that loss meant. But she'd known Vi was altered on some chemical level. Some molecular splitting, so Vi wasn't one, but two. 

The girl she'd been. And the woman she was becoming. 

Now, with her sister's body in Vi's arms—it's not the same. After last night, Vi no longer buys that Jinx and Silco are a package deal. Nor does she believe any longer that Silco's inveigled his way into Jinx's pants. She knows her sister well enough to realize that, for all Jinx's wildness, she's still the same girl who used to chase after Vi, begging to be let into the places of grownup vice. Places where Vi would always say no.

Because Powder, her Little Star, wasn't ready.

Jinx, the Bombshell, isn't ready, either. For all her flaunting and flirtation, the fact is, Jinx is a late bloomer. Vi would bet folding money that her sister's never even gotten her hands inside someone else's pants. Silco keeps too close an eye on her. Sevika would chug a triple-shot of cyanide before trying anything untoward. And the crew are too disciplined, too terrified, to get in their boss' bad graces. 

Not without ending up floating facedown in the river.

And yet there's a raw-edged tenderness in her sister's bearing. Her atoms aren't splitting. They're reeling, in the wake of a transformation that's in its first, dazzled throes.  The lingering aura of it—and of whoever's touched her—is a radioactive glow.   

The kind that makes Vi's hackles rise.

"Who was it, Jinx?"

The name, spoken with gentle firmness, does the trick.

"Doesn't matter," Jinx says. "It was a mistake." 

"What was?"

"Meeting him. Being so damn stupid." Her hand lifts. For a moment, her fingertips touch her own lips. "So damn... close."

Vi's own eyes, inexorably, trace the little gash on her sister's upper-lip. It's more pronounced now; a quarter-inch cut. Almost perfectly straight. Like a blade had nicked her there.

Or a kiss.

"Close," Vi repeats, and her throat crimps. "As in kissing-close."

A little up-and-down nod.

"First kiss?"

Again, that tiny dip.

"It wasn't Viktor, right?"

The scoff is the verbal equivalent of an eyeroll.

"A stranger, then?"

"Not a stranger. Someone old." Her fingertips press the gash, as if trying to re-create the sensation. "Someone new."

"Did this someone... force themselves on you?"

Vi is choosing her words with the painstaking precision of a tooth-splinter tweezed from a split lip. She has to. If her sister's been hurt in any way—if her trust has been violated—

Jinx only shakes her head.

"He made me... feel. Not a bad feelin.' Just... it's like it woke a voice in me. One I've had under my skin for a long while. Kinda whispering in the dark. I didn't mind it. The dark's a safe place. Nothing can hurt me when I'm there. I see everything. Everyone. And nobody sees me." A deep, shuddering breath. "Not until him." 

"What d'you mean?"

"He kissed me. And it came outta nowhere. Just—boom. A flashbang. The dark went away, and I was there. Smack-dab in the light. So shiny. So strong.  He kissed me, and the voice wasn't whispering anymore. It was singing. This beautiful, beautiful song. One that's been there all along, and I just never knew." She touches the gash again, and her fingers shake. "I never knew." 

"Jinx—"

"I didn't plan it!" It bursts from Jinx on a hitched little cry. "I didn't mean to—but he made me want to mean it! He looked at me like I wasn't crazy. Like I wasn't a bomb or a monster. He looked, and he kissed me, and the darkness was gone, and the song was so bright, and gods, I didn't want him to stop. I didn't want it to end." Her body burrows into Vi's, clinging fiercely. "I didn't."

Vi keeps her voice steady. "What happened then?"

"I ran away." A sniffle. "Like a damn coward."

"Did he chase you?"

"For a bit. Not far." The sniffle thickens. "It's not neutral territory. Not where I am. Not even close."

Vi doesn't understand what Neutral Territory signifies. But she hates the pitch of distress her sister is radiating. The tears are hot and bitter and real. But there's also a yearning there. A livewire ache that Vi knows all too well. 

She'd felt it, every minute, when she was with Caitlyn. 

"I'll kick his ass," she says.

"Huh?"

"Whoever he is. I'll track him down and break his knees. Then I'll break his arms. Then I'll make sure he never, ever, lays a finger on on you again." Her arms enfold Jinx tighter. "Ever."

Shock leaps off Jinx's skin. For a moment she's all jellyfish softness and barbed-wire stiffness. Then the shock fades, and a laugh bubbles out. Not the villainess' high-pitched cackle, or the trickster's guffaw. This laugh is soft, shaky, a little too close to a sob. 

"Oh, sis," she says, and there's a strange wonder in her voice. "You really do care."

"Of course I do."

"Enough to go to war?"

[bunnist4rz]

Hi guys :33 I've been slowly getting back into mha lately which in turn is reviving my deadly crush on Bakugo 😞😞😞😞😞 (I'm so sane about him I swear) I hope u guys like it :33

TW/CW : none,, bakugo x m!reader,, fluff with a tiny bit of angst if u squint

"Hey, you okay?" Midoriya's voice pierced through the quiet study hall, his eyes darting towards you, who sat with your head in your hands.

"Yeah, just... a lot on my mind," you replied, your voice muffled by your palms.

Mina leaned over from the adjacent desk, her curiosity piqued. "What's up? Did you and Bakugo have another explosive argument?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Your cheeks reddened as you sat up abruptly, knocking over a pencil that rolled away. "N-no! Nothing like that!" You scooped it up, trying to ignore the smirks forming around you. It was no secret that you and Bakugo Katsuki had a complicated relationship. You were like oil and water, but somehow, you two had found a way to blend

"Well, you're not fooling anyone," Mina whispered, leaning in closer. "Your bond is so thick, it's practically a plot device."

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes darting to the side where Bakugo sat, seemingly engrossed in his own studies. But he could feel the heat of your gaze, a silent challenge that made his pulse race. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his cool. How did Mina know?

The whispers grew louder as the rest of class 1-A turned their attention towards them. The atmosphere was a mix of curiosity and amusement. Denki leaned over his desk, grinning. "Is there something going on between you two that we should know about?"

Bakugo's head snapped up, his fiery gaze locked on the reader. "What the hell are you talking about, Pikachu?" he barked, his voice echoing through the room.

Mina giggled, unfazed by the outburst. "Oh, come on, you guys. It's so obvious." She pointed a finger at the reader, then at Bakugo. "You two have been acting like a couple of lovebirds for weeks now."

The class erupted into laughter and cheers, and you felt your face turn a shade darker. You glanced at Bakugo, expecting to see anger, but instead, you found the blond's expression unreadable.

Bakugo stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Shut up, all of you!" he roared, slamming his fists on the desk. The noise reverberated through the room, silencing everyone. "We're just... training partners. That's all!"

The class exchanged glances, some smiling, some nodding in understanding. You on the other hand felt a mix of relief and disappointment. You knew that Bakugo wasn't ready to admit their feelings in front of everyone, but you had hoped...

"Oh, really?" Mina's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Then how do you explain the way you two are always together, finishing each other's sentences, and... oh, I don't know, the little heart-shaped explosions you leave behind?"

The room burst into laughter again, and this time, even Bakugo couldn't help but crack a smile. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, despite the embarrassment. If their classmates knew, it couldn't be that bad, right? Maybe this was the start of something new.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, deciding to play along. "I guess we do have a pretty explosive... friendship."

The word 'friendship' hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like a challenge. Bakugo's eyes narrowed slightly, but then he smirked, a hint of amusement playing in his fiery gaze. "Yeah, something like that."

Mina leaned back in her chair, a knowing look in her eye. "Well, whether you admit it or not, you two are pretty cute together." She winked at you before turning back to her textbook.

As the chuckles died down, the rest of the class returned to their work, the occasional snicker or whisper breaking the silence. You couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the thought that everyone knew. Or at least, suspected. It was strange, but also oddly comforting.

The rest of the study session was filled with sly glances and smirks from his classmates, but you found that you didn't mind. In fact, you felt a strange sense of euphoria, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day, you gathered your things and walked out of the classroom, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. As you exited the building, the cool evening air hit you, and you couldn't help but look around for Bakugo.

There he was, standing under the streetlight, his back turned to the school. He was punching the air, practicing his quirk. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"Hey, Bakugo, " you called out, you voice steady.

Bakugo spun around, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" he snarled.

You took a step closer, your heart pounding in his chest. "I just... I wanted to say thanks. For earlier. For not... I don't know, for not making it a big deal."

Bakugo's expression softened, if only slightly. "Don't thank me," he grunted. "It's not like it's true."

Your hope grew. "But if it was, would it be so bad?"

The blond looked at him for a long moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. "What are you saying?"

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I'm saying... I think I might be in love with you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and potent. The world seemed to pause, waiting for Bakugo's reaction. And then, with a snort, the tension broke.

"Haha, what a joke," Bakugo said, turning away. "Get over it."

You felt like you've been punched in the gut, but he forced a laugh. "Yeah, of course. Just a joke."

But as you watched Bakugo stride away, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, the blond was hiding his own feelings behind that fiery bravado. And if so, how long until they could both face the truth?

The next few days passed in a blur of schoolwork and training. The class remained supportive, their teasing never crossing the line into cruelty. You tried to focus on your studies, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment in the study hall. Had Mina been right? Was your bond something more than friendship?

One afternoon, as you were packing up to leave, your hand brushed against something warm and rough. You looked down to find Bakugo's hand resting on the same stack of books. The electricity that zapped between both of you was undeniable, sending a jolt up your arm that made your heart race.

"W-what are you doing?" You stuttered, pulling your hand away.

Bakugo scowled, his cheeks faintly red. "Just... get out of here," he grumbled.

You didn't need to be told twice. You grabbed your bag and darted out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. The hallway was deserted, the last of the students already dispersed to their after-school activities. You didn't know where you was going, only that you had to get follow him.

"Why'd you say that?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.

You swallowed hard. "S-say what?"

"That you... that you might be in love with me."

The air was thick with tension, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe. "Because it's true," you murmured.

Bakugo took a step closer, his eyes searching the reader's face. "Don't play games with me," he growled.

You met his gaze, your voice firm. "I'm not playing. I just wanted you to know."

For a moment, y'all stood there, the space between you two charged with unspoken emotions. And then, without warning, Bakugo closed the gap, his hand cupping your cheek, and his lips crashed into your own.

The kiss was explosive, full of the passion and fire that had always characterized their relationship. Your eyes widened in shock before closing, your arms wrapping around Bakugo's waist, pulling him closer. You could feel the blond's heart racing in time with your own, the heat of your body seeping through yall uniforms.

When you finally pulled apart, you both were breathless, your eyes locked. The hallway spun around you, the only sound your ragged breathing.

"Does this... mean..." You started, your voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo cut him off with a sharp nod. "It means you're mine," he said, his voice gruff. "And I'm not sharing."

You felt your heart soar, your cheeks flushing with a newfound warmth. You leaned in again, eager to deepen the kiss, but Bakugo stepped back, his expression unreadable.

"But we're keeping this between us," he warned. "I'm not ready for the whole school to know."

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement. "Okay, Kacchan," you said, your voice shaky. "Our secret."

Bakugo's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he gave a curt nod. "Fine," he said, turning on his heel. "Let's go home."

As you walked through the empty halls, you couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them The whispers and teasing had brought them closer than ever before, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound understanding would lead.

[atlasscrumpit]

Bucky x Reader

Haircut

You were in your room in the tower, cleaning up.

Sunday's were always quietand you took the chance to tidy up and have some time alone.

You heard a knock at your door and opened it to see Bucky with chunks of his hair cut out.

"What happened to you?" You asked trying to hold back your laughter.

"I tried to cut my own hair..." He grumbled as you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"Bucky, would you like some help?" You asked as he looked at you and nodded.

"Why didn't you just ask me in the first place?" You asked dragging a chair into the bathroom and getting him to sit down for you.

"I don't like people touching my hair, I don't like talking when someone is cutting my hair it's just...uncomfortable." He said as you nodded a little and thought for a second.

"Alright, well... How about this?" You asked handing him a set of earphones.

"Put these in and just close your eyes and relax, you don't have to do anything but focus on the music while I give you a hair cut." You said as he took the earphones and sat down.

"I guess that could work." He grumbled as you smiled.

"I'll always keep a hand on you in one way or another so you know I'm here, okay? That way I won't scare you too much if I randomly touch you." You instructed as he nodded and put the earphones in and closed his eyes.

You brought out the scissors and a brush and began to gently trim him hair to the length most of the chucks were.

You moved rather slowly, making sure to not spook him whenever you had to cut a new section.

Once you were done you noticed he was in a completely relaxed state, you chuckled softly before tapping his shoulder and letting him open his eyes.

He took the headphones out and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Wow... I look so different." He muttered as you smiled.

"Good different?" You asked finally seeing a smile creep onto his face.

"Yeah... Good different, I feel like the long hair just reminded me too much of...you know." He muttered as you nodded a little and brushed the hair away from his shoulders.

"Expect Steve to get all emotional, you know he's a baby." You said making him chuckle softly.

He knew Steve would be emotional about something as simple as a haircut, but the more time went on the more Steve could see his old friend coming back.

"He's somehow more emotional then you, and you literally cried about a snail yesterday." He said as you looked at him through the mirror.

"He was so tiny!" You shouted making him laugh and shake his head.

"Yes, I know he was. I was the one to console you when Thor stood on him." He said as you faked cried.

"That giant oaf." You muttered making him laugh again.

"Would you two just date already?" A voice startled you both as you looked behind to see Nat sitting on your bed.

"How long have you been sitting there?" You asked as she shrugged and walked out.

"You know...I always wanted an older sister, Nat makes me regret wishing for that." You said as Bucky stood up and smile, brushing the hair off him.

"I mean...maybe she's right." He muttered, looking down at the ground.

"What do you mean?" You asked, obviously you knew what he was implying but you needed it to be clear.

"The first time we tried it we were both in a terrible place, of course it ended badly... Maybe, we could try again." He said, looking into your eyes as you smiled softly.

"I would really like that actually..." You said noticing his cheeks flush a little.

"How about I take you out on Friday? Dinner, dancing?" He asked making you smile with fondness.

"It's a date."

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

105. “You can’t make up for it by giving me a tic-tac.” This feels soo Jack Hughes coded.

oooo I couldn't agree more nonnie. very Jack Hughes coded. I love this prompt but I kind of hate how this turned out so I might rewrite this.

Drabble Masterlist.

"You can't make up for it by giving me a tic-tac."

It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still pissed you off. This was the second time you had plans with Jack and he forgot. The plans weren't a big deal, it's not like he forgot a date, your birthday, an anniversary. Tonight's plans were to come home after work and change into sweats and do absolutely nothing except watch more Vampire Dairies Jack's new obsession. But instead after a day of media and camp, he went out with the boys. It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still sucked that Jack forgot and that it was the second time it happened. Not in the mood to watch the Vampire Diaries anymore without him, you laid on the coach and watched one of your comfort films. A film that you always watched when you were upset because it always made you laugh.

Jack walked into the apartment yelling he was home. He dropped his gear where it goes, and took his sneakers off by the door. He walked into the family room kissing your forehead like nothing was wrong. But then he froze, he noticed what movie was on and immidately he was concerned. "hey baby. you okay?" he asks shyly as he moves your feet so he can sit on the coach next to you.

"yup" letting the 'p' pop as you continue to look forward refusing to even look in Jack's direction still. He starts to move his hands up and down your calves thinking he's bringing you comfort and in a way it is but you wanted to stay mad at him.

"what happened baby? You only watch this movie when your sad or pissed off cause it helps shut your mind off." His voice soft, he sounds like he has no idea that he was the reason you were watching this movie.

Finally turning to face him in an annoyed tone you ask, "do you know what today was?"

"uhh n-no." he stumbles out, his hands suddenly freezing on your legs.

"We had plans for the second time this week to binge Vampire Diaries and you forgot." Sighing at the end of your confession hating how you sounded.

"Y/N fuck I'm sorry. I forgot do you wanna watch it now?" he asks going to grab the remote from your lap.

"No."

"okay." he says softly and you can see an idea pop into his head as smiles wide at you reaching into his pocket. "Do you want a tic tac?" he asks showing you a brand new pack in his head.

All you can do is laugh because only Jack Hughes would try to fix this by giving you a tic tac. "You can't fix make-up for it by giving me a tic tac. Jack" A soft smile on your lips as Jack pulls you close to him for the first time since he sat down so your half on his lap.

"but there your favorite. And you asked me to pick you some up before I came home and I remembered." he pouts and all you can do is smile.

Taking your finger you lightly trace his bottom lip, "Thank you for remembering my tic tacs baby." you whisper before you can't resist anymore you peck Jack on his lips.

"I'm sorry about forgetting" he apologizes as soon as your lips leave his.

"I know. It's not a big deal. I just spent the entire summer with you, you deserve time with your teammates. I kind of overreacted, it's not like you didn't text me you were gonna go out. I'm sorry." you apologize too because it was a dumb reason to get mad.

"I still feel like shit for apologizing." he mumbles as he pulls you into a kiss.

"Well we can always feel like shit together and watch another movie." you suggest and although another movie is started on the t.v neither of you are paying attention too lost in each other to care what was on.

[scarfacemarston]

Hey! I saw your post asking for Bucky requests so I have one:

I was thinking maybe a Bucky x Gender Neutral Reader where he asks his partner to shave his face and trim his hair for him? Nothing smutty or anything, just some nice fluff of Bucky being taken care of and treated gently by the person he loves 💜 thank you in advanced!!!!

Sorry this is so late, but I FINALLY did it. There is a reference to make up in the post, but I firmly believe that's a gender neutral thing.

You shut the door to the apartment, placing the keys in the key basket.

"Darling? I'm home. Are you here?" You called.

"Yeah, in here," Bucky called back. You took off your jacket, threw it on the couch, and followed his voice. There, you saw Bucky, his hands on the counter, gazing at himself in the mirror, looking contemplative.

Usually, you allowed Bucky to speak on his own time, but sometimes, you gently encouraged him to communicate his feelings.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked, slipping an arm around his waist, your head resting on his back.

Bucky let out the quietest of chuckles.

"Don't have any of those. Thoughts or pennies." He muttered. The air was thick with apprehension.

"Fine. I think it's time for a change. I'm tired of seeing him in the mirror. It's a constant reminder of those days and I'm tired of it. I know everyone wants me to move on. It's easier on them than having this…half human cyborg old man people think is on the verge of snapping."

You squeezed him tight.

"You're not  a half-human cyborg. Yes, you're old, but you're still human. And one of the strongest men I know." You sushed him.

Bucky grunted in response before turning to face you.

"I think it's time I cleaned up a bit. I won't ever be the old me. That man doesn't exist. He died in '45. That's who people want me to be, but it's not going to happen. I don't want to look exactly like tht. It feels like I'm being mocked. Maybe….something similar with a modern twist. I don't know. I used to know what suited me. I don't anymore." He sighed.

"Maybe I can help? I've cut my hair a few times and I know how to shave if you want that as well."

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

'You'd do that for me? Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, handsome. This is only if you want it, though. Don't do it for me, or for Steve or to make others feel a certain way."

"Right, I know. That's what I was saying…But I think I'm ready." Bucky confirmed, giving your hand a squeeze. You nodded as the both of you gathered the supplies needed in the bathroom.

You pulled a dining room chair in, set a washbasin to create a makeshift workstation, and grabbed hair supplies. Bucky gathered towels and shaving supplies before pulling out a small grooming kit. He smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, I bought it myself. I've been trying to psyche myself up for a while, but I just haven't been able to do it." he shrugged.

"Stop worrying and come sit down. Relax. Everything will be okay. You're in control, Bucky. It's 100% you. If you only want a few centimeters off or even decide to change your mind, you can do that. This is your choice." You stressed.

"I know. Thank you." he muttered quietly as he sat down.

"So, shaving first or hair?" you asked as Bucky took a seat, resting his head back.

"Hm, I'm thinking a shave," he answered

"A trim?" you asked

"No, a full shave." he clarified.

You paused.

"Are you sure?" you asked.

"Yes. Absolutely. It will grow back in a few days if I hate it." he confirmed/

You nodded.

"Of course. That should actually make things a little easier.. I'm a raid I don't have those long razors that open up on a hinge."

"Well, no. I wouldn't expect you to," he laughed.

"This isn't 1850 either. But, hey, even if you did, I'd trust you with a knife against my throat anyway!" He said with a lopsided grin.

"True. Now, let me pamper you." You said playfully, patting his cheek. You turned on the warm water, wetting his face before placing shaving gel on his lower face and jaw and gently rubbing the product in as it sudded up. You smiled at Bucky as you leaned over and pecked his forehead.

"You ready, big guy?" You murmured.

"Baby, we're doing a haircut and a shave, not about to jump out of a window in a burning building," Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

You held up your hands in defense.

"Alright, alright, just making sure!" you said as you gently began to shave, going methodically slow, careful not to nick Bucky. It was far easier than you thought it would be. It was no different than shaving in most other places…well, except for a nick, it could be more serious here, but who's asking?

The actual shaving took little time. You admired your handy work. The shave took years off of Bucky's appearance. You grinned as you rinsed Bucky's chin and neck. 

"Looking good, handsome! Not that you didn't look handsome before," You amended.

"Now, your hair. I'll wash it first but for the cutting? That shouldn't take too long, but I want to be careful, " you said.

You started to hum absent-mindedly as you set to work. Bucky closed his eyes in bliss as you shampooed his hair, massaging the soap into it. Bucky grinned, sighing happily.

"You have magic fingers," he murmured with a happy groan. You spent extra time massaging his head, knowing that Bucky had frequent headaches. However, cutting his hair took longer than you expected, but Bucky was still. You checked on Bucky every few minutes before hearing Bucky sigh in annoyance.

"I'm fine! Just keep working!" Bucky finally chastised.

You smiled to yourself,

"Just checking, darling. I'll stop," you replied, quietly returning once more. Soon, you stopped, proud of your work. You withheld a gasp as you reached for the hair dryer. Bucky was always beautiful to you, regardless of his appearance, but this haircut was a different sort of beauty. You had studied the fashion, hair, and makeup of the 40s once you started to date him to plan a potential date night with materials from the era. That, and you had seen a few photos of Bucky's time before and during the war.

While he did not look identical to his time in the 1940s, there was still an element of the 1940s with a touch of modernity. Truth be told, you were quite proud of yourself. You couldn't wait to see how Bucky styled it.

Bucky's eyes widened as he saw your smile.

"Alirght, let me see, let me see, " he said, sitting up. He stared at his reflection, his expression blank, before he narrowed his eyes, the silence filling the room. You swallowed your anxiety.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair before flitting his eyes to yours.

"It……..looks good." He finally answered. That didn't seem optimistic.

"I messed up, didn't I?" You said, trying to keep the defeat out of your voice.

"No. You didn't." He answered sharply before softening his features.

"It's just different, is all. I haven't seen me look like this since the early 90s when I was expected to complete an assassination  undercover." he explained.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything except 'Oh.'

"But it still looks like my former self. It was risky for Hydra to do really, considering this is bringing back memories. Turns out, Hydra couldn't shut everything out."

"I'm sorry." You began.

"I promise you, I'm fine. I won't break. I told you that earlier, didn't I? No. I'm just surprised is all because I do see bits of who I was before, but it's still different enough that I'm not identical." Bucky explained. Bucky sighed before taking your chin into his hands.

"Don't worry about me. You did a wonderful job." He murmured as he kissed you gently.

"Besides, I saw your expression when you finished. Clearly you liked it, which makes it all worth it…and no, you're not making me be someone I don't want to be. You accept me as I am and that's the difference." He enunciated.

He got up, brushing the hair off of him.

"Uh, I'll get a broom. I insist." He offered. He grinned at you, making you lose your breath.

"Let's get dinner out. You can show me off." he winked.

"Sounds like a plan." You said, returning his grin.