#3. i write specifically at the worst times ever. right before i have to go to bed or right before i have to leave the house.

[wwwdotjesterdotcom]

Reposting this for shits and giggles bc I don't expect asks about this lol. But I'll answer some in the tags

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[aduh0308]

canines [kang taehyun]

kinktober 2024 !! summary: there's a cute quiet boy in your college class that's sweet to everyone, but there's something just slightly off about him. something that becomes very apparent when he insists begs you come over to study one specific night of the month. genre: college au, soulmate au, smut, p with little to no plot warnings: werewolf taehyun, dom!taehyun, sub!reader, perv!reader, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, sir kink, knotting, possessiveness, praise kink, he calls reader ‘pretty’, ‘darling’, ‘good girl’ and ‘bitch’ (once, I felt it was necessary), he’s got body hair lol, mentions of biting (no blood tho!) just for cam <3 word count: 3.7k 🎧 — sparks fly (taylor swift) + mmmh (kai) + mastermind (taylor swift) + red moon (kim wooseok) a/n— this is perhaps the worst thing I have ever written and posted so have fun (@beomsmiracles helped so much tho tysm <333) + happy bday to @bamtorin !!

Your legs tremble as they wrap around his waist. Bleary eyes struggling to stay open as your usually charming classmate’s cock practically tears you in half. In the pale night of the full moon, shining through the thin curtains of his bedroom, Taehyun looks almost inhuman. And as you catch a glimpse of his almost animalistically sharp teeth, you start to think that he might actually be. 

Taehyun’s always been strange. But you thought you were crazy to think such a thing. Everyone else seemed to like him— they were drawn to him. He was kind, charming, smart, and most importantly, handsome. He was perfect. Too perfect. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. Something so sinister that he had to have everyone around him enchanted for his poison to not take effect. Or at least so you thought. 

But your skepticism only seemed to draw him in further. 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You slide into your seat right as your professor’s alarm rings. The tone signals the start of class— thank god you weren’t late. The morning had been hectic, traffic lining every lane of the highway on your drive. Maybe next year you should just room here instead.

The boy next to you shoots you a small smile as class begins. You know of him, you realize. Everyone does.

Kang Taehyun is a loner, but not in the usual sense of the word. He doesn’t have a set “friend group,” more he sits alone, talks to whoever is around him. You’ve heard nothing but nice things about him. How smart he is, how polite, how surprising it is that he doesn’t have more friends. Or a girlfriend.

They’ve said he doesn’t like to fall in love— he’s never been seen within less than a foot and a half of a woman the whole time he’s been at this university.

You can see what attracts people to him now. He holds himself with the kind of confidence that only comes from someone so sure of themselves that they don’t need the validation of those around them. It’s attractive, actually. 

And so is he. You can’t help sneaking peeks towards him during the lecture. You’d have to borrow the notes from your friends because every word falling from your professors lips go in one ear and straight out the other while your eyes are on Taehyun. He’s got straight, black hair that falls to the end of his nose, and big brown eyes that send a sensation straight to your lower abdomen when he glances over at you. The way his t-shirt grips his biceps is a plus too, of course.

You have no idea how you’ve never noticed him before. Because fuck, now that you have, it’s like you can’t look away. It feels perverse, almost, the way your eyes rake up and down every inch of his body. But you can’t help it— it’s like you’re drawn to him.

He bends over to grab his water bottle, and the way his Adam’s Apple bobs up and down when he swallows has you pressing your thighs tight together. You’re so close together in the 3-person table that his arm brushes yours when he scribbles down a note on his lined paper. He was left-handed? Lucky for you, because that means whenever the both of you write something, your elbows touch.

Fuck, you feel like a thirteen year old again, giggly inside just from the simple touch of the opposite sex.

But you can’t help it! Something about Taehyun is magnetic and there must be metal in your eyes because if eyes could have sex, his would be pregnant. 

You hope to catch a word with him before you both have to go, because a single two-hour period of time is not enough for you, at all. 

At the end of class, when he stands, you stand too, so fast that your pencil case falls to the ground. 

“Here, let me,” Taehyun mumbles, stooping to pick it up for you.

Your heart’s pounding so fast you can hear it in your ears. He extends his hand to give you back what you dropped, but you’re frozen, eyes flicking from his face to where his shirt clings to his frame at his chest. 

His voice again snaps you out of your stupor. “Come on, darling. Eyes up here, I don’t have all day.”

If it were anyone else, every single one of those words would’ve sent you running. But from Taehyun, let’s be honest, you’d get on your knees in seconds if he asked in that tone.

“Sorry,” you whisper. Your fingers brush when you take your pencil case back, and Taehyun smiles at your flustered expression.

“You’re all good. I’m Taehyun, by the way.”

“I know.” Your eyes go wide. “Not in a stalker-y way! I’ve just.. heard of you. That’s all. I’m not a weirdo.”

Fuck, why’d you say that?? Now he must think you’re some sort of awkward, obsessed girl who can’t even have a normal conversation.

You’re in luck, however, because he laughs and leans his hip against the table. The two of you are alone in the room— everyone’s walked out and your professor is on her lunch break now— and his proximity is making your legs tremble.

“Got it. So, Miss Not-A-Weirdo, should I keep calling you that or..?”

You rush to introduce yourself. 

“Alright then, y/n. See you tomorrow?”

His eyes are innocently wide, looking at you with a sparkle in them that is so endearing you have to break the eye contact. “Sounds good.”

You take one last look at him as the two of you part ways at the doorway. There’s something just slightly off about his appearance, and you can’t put your finger on it. He doesn’t look entirely human, if that makes sense. Maybe it’s only the way his sideburns reach to the end of his ear, but he just seems a little… wolfish? Or vampirish?

You’re making things up. He’s just got an interesting face, sharp incisors and all. 

But he’s on your mind all the rest of the day, well into the night, and you’re surprised by the craving that your mind has developed for Taehyun.

Much to your surprise, the next day, he starts up a conversation with you. Just something small, about the work for the class, but the day after that he’s asking you to eat lunch with him.

“Are you being for real?” Your voice comes out like a squeak and you could punch yourself.

“Why would I be kidding?”

“I mean, I don’t know, you’re kind of famous for not sitting with people.”

The two of you are walking out to the courtyard, backpacks slung over your shoulders. When Taehyun stops you with a hand on your shoulder to point you in the direction of his lunch spot you can feel your heart speeding up.

“Over here.” He hops up onto a slab of concrete right next to the stairs. “Just because I don’t sit with friends doesn’t mean I don’t sit with people.”

He’s got you there.

“I guess. Anyways, how come you don’t have friends?” You realize you sound like a total bitch and rush to correct yourself. “I just mean, you seem like a nice person, how come no one bothers being friends with you?”

Taehyun gives you a small smile. “I don’t know. But I don’t necessarily mind, either. I like talking to different people. You hear such interesting things when you don’t bother yourself with the same people every day.”

That makes sense, you guess. “But you’d bother with me?”

The tips of his ears go pink. He doesn’t answer, only unwrapping a chocolate-chip cookie from its aluminum foil shell. “Cookie?”

His change of topic doesn’t go over your head, but you accept the offer. The sugary sweetness coats your tastebuds and you give him a thumbs up. “Thanks,” you say once you swallow.

“Of course,” he hums, and you slip into a soft, comfortable silence.

“You wanna come over to study sometime?” Taehyun asks a moment later. 

Your eyes go wide. Hell yeah you do. Being alone with this fine-ass man? Yes please.

But, keeping it nonchalant, you simply say. “Sure. I’m having some trouble with what we’re working on now.”

“I can help with that.” Of course he can. “Do you want to come over Saturday night?”

You pull out your phone to check your calendar. “I’m supposed to go out with my friends that night.”

“Please?”

The tone of his voice has your stomach twisting. Pleading, almost, like it’d ruin his whole year if you didn’t come over. 

You look down at your phone again, to where it says ‘date with the girls’. “I really shouldn’t…” But his eyes are on yours again when you look up, and you backtrack so fast you surprise yourself. “I’ll reschedule. Plus, there’s like ten of us, it’s not too bad if I’m not there.”

The grin Taehyun shines your way is absolutely dazzling, but, once again, the angle of his canines catch you off guard. They’re sharp, longer than his other teeth, and something seems weird about them. 

You mentally shake off the feeling. You’re going to his fucking house. It’s time to celebrate, not think about the strangeness of his teeth.

You shoot a quick text to you and your friends’ group text thread, explaining that you have a “tutoring session” that night and will unfortunately have to miss your date. :(

A little bit of guilt curls itself in the pit of your stomach, but not enough to outweigh the pure excitement at the prospect of a few hours all alone with Taehyun. He gives you his address and apartment number, as well as his phone number, and you type the three into your phone with shaking fingers.

Saturday was only two days away, but it couldn’t have felt any further.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You knock twice on the door to Taehyun’s apartment. Goosebumps pelt every inch of your exposed skin while you wait for him to answer— it’s October and you forgot your jacket.

But you don’t have to wait long. You hear soft footsteps padding to the door and seconds later it’s opening and Taehyun’s wrapping an arm around you to pull you inside. 

“You’re freezing, come in, let me get you a jacket…” He’s bustling around his apartment, which is a perfect reflection of the Taehyun you only know a little of. 

It’s neat, organized, coffee-with-cream walls devoid of decoration, and there are shelves upon shelves of books lining the edges of the living room. And his room too, once you enter it.

The air is cozy, some sort of fuzzy intimacy presenting itself as you sit side-by-side with Taehyun in his bed, now wrapped in an oversized hoodie of his that fits you just how you like. You try and convince yourself that the unspoken emotions hanging themselves in the air are purely figments of your own imagination.

But when he opens his notes, clearing his throat to speak, there’s a choked twinge to his voice that lets you know in a second that, whatever it is, he feels it too. You can’t even let your bare skin touch his without getting all warm inside.

And the black tank top he’s got on is not helping at all.

“Here, this is what I got from what Professor Barns was saying.”

You have to lean yourself against his shoulder to read the tidy scrawl of his handwriting. “That makes sense, but how does it correlate to the reading? That was what I didn’t get.”

Taehyun’s explaining to you exactly what’s going on, but his heart doesn’t seem to be in it, and as the light of the full moon peaks in through his open window, your peripheral vision tells you something is happening to his face.

It’s almost as if he’s shifting a little bit— canines getting even sharper, the hair on his arms thickens, the muscles in his body seemingly filling out even more. You must be seeing things, that’s simply not possible.

But even as you think it, he turns to you, and the look on his face is purely predatory.

And an idea hits you, but it’s not possible, is it? That this boy right here is a fucking werewolf? 

Not a werewolf in the typical way, not like Professor Lupin’s transformation in Harry Potter. No, it’s more subtle. If you hadn’t been paying so much attention to him, you wouldn’t even have noticed in the first place.

But the glint in his eyes is hungry. For you.

Taehyun’s on you in seconds, lips claiming yours, and you could nut at the feeling alone. Well, that’s a stretch, but his touch does set off something in you that settles itself under your skin and stays there.

“Fuck, I knew it..” He whispers, lips shiny from a mix of both his salvia and yours. “I knew it was you.”

You don’t even bother asking what he means, mainly because he doesn’t give you a second to, tugging your leggings down your thighs and throwing them onto the floor. Taehyun unbuckles his belt, and his jeans and shirt quickly make a pile with the rest of your clothes. 

And fuck, is he a sight to behold above you. The lines of his body are statuesque, defined and absolutely perfect. You reach up to trace a slow hand down his torso. The contact of your skin on his makes the both of you shiver, and without warning, he’s pulling your thighs around his waist. You can feel him against your clit through both his boxers and your underwear.

“Let me fuck you, please, need to.” He’s breathless, pants painting the skin of your neck.

You can barely muster a nod, but thankfully, that’s all he needs.

Your undergarments are on the floor in seconds and Taehyun presses the head of his cock to your soaked cunt. Thank god you’re dripping, because he’s fucking into you without warning, hands on your hips dragging you farther down on his thick cock.

Your mouth is hung open in a perpetual silent scream as he fucks you so purely animalistic that you’re shaking, black spots overtaking your vision. You’re rendered senseless underneath him in seconds, dick filling you so good, it’s like you were made for him.

You must be on the same wavelength as him, because that’s what he’s mumbling in your ear over and over again. “Fucking built for me, knew it, could tell the moment you sat next to me, pretty body so warm next to me, of course it’s you.”

You move to touch him again, tears wetting your lashes as a pathetic whine wrenches itself from your throat, but he shakes his head. “Let me fuck you good, pretty, it’s my jab now.”

“Okay,” you whisper, breath knocked out of you at the repeated smack of his pelvis against your ass. He’s hoisted your legs up and over his shoulders in order to get closer to you, and the tears finally slip down your cheeks when he finds that perfect spot inside you.

“Okay, sir,” he mumbles, and your eyes blow out wide.

“Fuck, feels so good, sir.” Your voice is fucked already, you can hear it in your own ears.

His dick twitches deep inside you at the name. You can feel the warmth in his body as it seeps into you, like he’s laying himself under your skin. "ah— fuck, so fucking good around me, taking me so good, what a good girl..."

You flutter around him at his words and he lets out a low moan. It’s purely pornographic, erotic in the best way possible. You can barely breathe by this point, big cock practically rearranging your insides.

“Feel good, pretty?” Taehyun coos in your ear, fingers lacing with yours. You nod quickly, tears pooling on the pillowcase under your head. “Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he only smirks from above you. 

“Good, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing, only wanna make my pretty mate feel good…”

Mate? Oh, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into.

Your question must show plainly on your face because he grins at you almost sadistically. “Don’t you realize? You’re supposed to be mine, it was written into existence by the moon herself. Can’t you feel it?”

You can. 

The whole time, you’d been swearing you must be ovulating or something. Because the way you feel anytime you get close to Taehyun is not normal, in any way at all. It’s like there’s a burn under your skin that can only be satiated by the touch of his.

Taehyun smirks at your fucked expression. “Of course you can, I’m so glad it’s you, so fucking pretty under me. Gonna be mine forever, won’t you?”

You nod frantically, tears leaving paths all down your cheeks. “Wanted you since the first day of class, wanted you inside me, thank you, thank you so much.” Your voice is strained, barely above a whisper, but Taehyun can hear and it sets him off.

“T— too fast, fuck, Tae—ah— hyun, gonna cum, feel s’ good.”

God, the sight of you under him is the purest form of art he’s seen in his life. Eyes glossy, body limp, he’s left reddening bite marks up the line of your tits, up to your jaw. And oh, you feel perfect around him, gummy walls sucking him in like he belongs between your legs and should stay there all day long.

“Go ‘head, done so good, taking me like an angel.” Taehyun noses up your neck, sucking a mark onto the softness of your skin. Your scent is absolutely intoxicating to him, sweet and winding itself around him like a python around its prey.

Your whole body trembles against him as the ivy tendrils of pleasure wrap your form, coaxing quiet noises of pure ecstasy to fall from your tongue. His tip kisses your cervix with every movement, and little gasps of whimpers slip past the restraints of your parted, swollen lips.

Any word you try to get out is slurred, but Taehyun catches his name mixed in with strings of profanities that has him trying to settle the race of his heart. 

“There we go, pretty, could cum at the sight of you liked this, fucked out on my cock, aren’t you?” You can’t even fathom responding, walls still convulsing around the girth of him. He grins down at you, sharp teeth on display, hips losing their perfection as he nears his own high.

“Gonna knot you, pretty little bitch, gon’ be all full with my pups, make you a mommy, how’d you like that?”

His voice is a growl and sends a shiver down your back, straight to your cunt. You can only nod, mumbling something about how you need him, want him to fill you up so perfectly.

It almost feels like he’s getting bigger inside you, the base of his dick swelling before his cum meets your fluttering walls. You’re sure it makes its way to your womb, but you couldn’t care less. The only thing that even crosses your mind is the fact that he’s trembling above you, dick twitching inside you while he still fucks into you relentlessly. 

“Fuck, can’t take it, pussy taking me so good, so perfect,” he exhales, collapsing on top of you. Taehyun’s forearms shake while he tries to hold himself up, and you lay a gentle hand on the smooth skin of his shoulder.

You want to say something. You really, really do. But your brain is so fuzzy that you can’t string two words together mentally.

Luckily, it seems that even in this feral, half-animal state, he can understand the things you’re trying to convey. He lays himself next to you, and you give him a single smile before you’re out cold.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You wake up beside a very normal-looking Taehyun, a headache pounding at your temples. If it weren’t for the fact that your inner thighs are white and sticky from his cum, you’d think that you’d made up the whole thing.

You take a moment to just look at him. That’s funny, simply because that’s what you’d been doing for every day of class the past week.

But something about him looks different, now that he’s next to you, shoulders peeking out from under his grey comforter. His face is relaxed, jaw slack and the tips of his sharp incisors visible past the pink of his lips. He looks comfortable, off-guard, none of the “loner” facade from before.

“Can feel you staring,” he mumbles.

Your cheeks go hot and your gaze drops when his eyes open. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right, darling, I’d do the same.” Taehyun sits up in bed and you could curse at the small hitch in your breath when the blanket falls to his waist. His body must’ve been designed by the gods, because holy fuck, it was insane. Big arms with veins curling around the girth of his forearms, defined pecs that made you want to take a bite, and abs like fucking Hawaiian bread rolls.

You have no idea how you hadn’t noticed last night.

He’s smirking at you when you finally look back at his face, and the smirk tugging his lips causes something to twist inside you. That, combined with the sparkle of his eyes on yours, is enough to have your heart pounding in your throat.

“I got so lucky, with you as my mate, so pretty.” Taehyun leans his face in his hands, cheeks pink, like he’s embarrassed himself by his own sudden declaration.

You don’t say anything— there are too many things rattling around in your brain. But you do press your lips to him, so gentle he makes up for your tentative action by kissing you back, hands cradling your face.

It’s like this kiss makes up for everything the night before didn’t include. Intimacy on another level, a warm feeling rising up your neck. Being in his arms feels right, like you belong there. His lips are soft, searching almost, prodding against yours with such certainty that you’re trembling against his strong form. 

And something about the way he looks at you when you finally pull away from him has you pulling him down onto you again.

The corner of Taehyun’s lips twitch up into the ghost of a smirk, arms on either side of you.

“Let me make love to you this time, won’t you, pretty?”

[weneeya]

hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333

baby fever w/ hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto m.list | rules

note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3

Hinata Shoyo

You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 

He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 

“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 

Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 

good with children ; he has a little sister after all 

always so patient no matter what 

not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 

will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 

take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 

ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby

Miya Atsumu

Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 

Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 

You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 

“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 

“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 

the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 

careful about absolutely everything 

acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 

girl’s dad at 100% 

loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 

bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 

So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 

Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 

You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 

“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 

Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 

But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 

biggest girl’s dad ever 

will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 

discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 

completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 

wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 

get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 

overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl

Bokuto Koutaro

He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 

Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 

You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 

“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 

Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 

It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 

neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 

had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 

it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 

not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 

will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 

always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 

will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 

always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 

a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 

thank you for reading!

[81folklore]

dress - VETTEL

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it

authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets

authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards

authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)

masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others

yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?

view comments

user3: NEW ERA INCOMING

user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS

user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?

user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation

user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT

user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭

yourusername

liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others

everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…

this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’

dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys

you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all

this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.

dress out now on all platforms🖤

comments on this post have been limited

sebupdates

liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others

seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(

view comments

user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)

user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!

user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH

user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK

user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭

user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭

user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??

sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!

user18: ok thank you :)

user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭

user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?

user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!

part 2!

[cardentist]

"haha Wow can you Believe how crazy it is that jay outed tim's medical records?"

Hoody:

1: stole tim's records from when he was 8 years old, which meant that he had to Specifically and Intentionally track them down To steal them. from his house? Maybe, we certainly see him breaking into tim's house plenty. (though why would tim even still have those)

2: baited jay both in person and online implying that tim was lying to him (reminder, the last guy who lied to jay about his intentions tried to kill him with a gun and turned out to have tried to murder all of his friends. and tim himself had watched jay sleep, been in videos threatening him right before jay's apartment burned down, and tried to physically attack him.)

3: intentionally planted the records in a scary tunnel under the abandoned burned down mental hospital and lead jay there by the nose, going so far to write how much of liar tim is in big bold sharpie on the files themselves.

4: after all of this happened hoodie's immediate next step was to break into tim's house, steal his medication, and intentionally set off and film tim having a seizure and post it on the internet.

Hoodie leaked tim's medical records, he specifically and Intentionally baited jay into finding and documenting them because it proved that tim was lying about the slender haunting only starting recently for him.

and it's important to note that jay's response wasn't to get angry with tim, it was to Blame Himself and express empathy for tim.

it's Also worth noting that the majority of the records were redacted (including tim's Name), which is a point in favor of both jay And hoodie (hoodie still cares about tim, even if he's angry at him and willing to hurt him to push him towards what he thinks needs to be done).

moreover, jay's censored tim's last name before (several times, actually), just like he's censored amy and jessica's phone numbers. I think it's safe to assume that part of the reason why jay filmed it was because those details Were redacted (that and, of course, evidence keeps disappearing from his house and from his laptop. which means if he forgets about them and they're stolen then they're just gone- if there isn't some other record of them online, of course).

my point being, it burns my ass that people blame jay for this and hold it against him like it's the worst thing that he could've done, without ever holding it against hoodie.

I feel like this is a cross section of fans only holding characters accountable for what other characters get mad about (tim was Right to be angry at jay for it, but he didn't call out hoodie. probably because there'd be no point, he can't exactly hold him responsible. likewise jay Deliberately didn't get mad at tim about what he did as masky, at least not openly, so fans tend to not understand his perspective)

And fans holding jay to a different standard than they do other characters in general. whether it's because most of his personal information is on his twitter (secondary material people are less likely to go through, especially while watching), because his voice acting tends to be less emotionally charged (it was probably just that troy's acting was a little awkward, but I personally like to read him as autistic), Or because he's just generally not as cool.

either way, people tend to hold jay accountable for things they let tim and hoody off the hook for. and it's kind of Really insane in this case.

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.

You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.

You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.

"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.

"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."

"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"

You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."

"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."

Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.

"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.

"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.

"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."

"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.

Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.

"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.

"What happened to them?"

You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.

"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."

"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.

He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.

"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."

"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.

The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.

"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.

You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.

"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.

"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."

He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.

You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.

The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.

"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"

He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...

"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."

"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?

"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.

"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.

He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.

"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."

"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.

"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."

"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.

He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."

"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."

"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."

"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.

"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."

You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.

"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.

He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.

"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.

He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.

"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.

"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.

But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.

He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.

"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"

"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.

"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.

If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.

But you were his Y/N.

It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.

"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.

He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.

He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.

"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?

He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.

"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.

"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."

"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.

He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.

The past is a wound that cannot be healed.

"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."

"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.

Men are greedy creatures.

But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?

He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.

"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.

"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."

You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.

The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.

[boba-beom]

✦ ⁺ ⨯ . ⁺ americano | K.TH

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff! | oneshot

warning(s): lowercase intended, mentions of uni stress, soft tsundere tyun agenda 🤭, light banter, reader almost accepts that feelings might be one-sided, reader still tries to shoot their shot, mentions of food and drinks ofc, they fell first but he fell harder type of trope hehe, lmk if I’ve missed anything, not proofread

summary: you tell taehyun you want to go out for a walk at night, and he comes over so you won’t have to walk alone

wc: 1.1k

a/n: happy 21st birthday to my favourite nyang nyang <3 here’s some light tsundere content for our beloved kang taehyun! i also tried writing a little different to how i usually do, feedback would be amazing, thank you <3

-> also got the inspo from this clip :>

the past few weeks have been so stressful with second semester up and running. you know that you always have taehyun to talk to when you were struggling, but you've been messaging him and calling him more frequently these days. this time around, you weren't too sure if you wanted to call him again just for the same reason as before. perhaps it's also you trying to avoid him in the slightest ever since you realised your growing crush on him.

sometimes you wonder why he hangs around with you in general. you can't help but wonder, there must be someone really attractive in any of his classes and it's possible someone likes him too. who wouldn't? he's intelligent, witty, extremely handsome and confident.

what you were unaware about was that taehyun would drop anything — that isn't too important — for you. those times you didn't expect him to reply or pick up the phone, he did not hesitate to help you out with uni work — as long as it means he gets to see you.

sometimes you felt like wanting to go for walks when it's late at night. just the thought of walking around the quiet neighbourhood when everyone is done for the day appealed to you. even the silence on the road, no cars in your neighbourhood are out past 10pm and just the soft rustle of the trees lightly swaying from the wind. that was enough for you to destress.

you sigh, accepting the fact that you'll have to talk to him about this irrational decision of yours whether you wanted to or not. he was always the right, and only person to talk about these things anyway.

sorry it's late tyun

i'm struggling with uni work and i want to take a break, but i want to go for a walk. just letting you know

while awaiting his reply, you swing your satin varsity jacket over your shoulders, stretching your arms through and zipping it up. you pick up a navy blue cap that taehyun left the last time he came over to study with you. his scent all over it, and you had hoped to feel a little safer wearing it on your solo walk.

your phone chimes with the screen glowing, tyun ♡ labelled as the sender and his message read out:

yn, stay there.

i'm coming with you on your walk

i'm almost there

taehyun couldn't help but think the worst if you were to go out by yourself, even if you thought it was okay to do so. he cared about you more than he liked to admit but he's been really good at hiding it from you. maybe a little too good.

however, though he hasn't said it yet, his actions says it all. he thought you would catch on at some point and confront him about it, but he's still testing out the waters. he has an inkling that you have a liking for him, but he doesn't know when he started to realise it. as of recent, he's noticed the little things you do and say, resulting to the tips of his ears burning up. the pink of his ears blends in with his hair, which he was always grateful for because that's one thing he wouldn't be able to hide otherwise.

you hear a knock on your front door and you already know that it's taehyun. he has a specific pattern when he knocks and only you know. it was like a routine, really. from the amount of times you've met up at your student-shared house, it doesn't seem too different compared to the previous times.

your eyes are met with his, just as surprised as each other. his figure was standing on the door step, him wearing a very similar varsity jacket to yours and two americanos in his hand. the sight was almost endearing and you tried your best to stifle your laughter once your eyes met.

"i really appreciate you coming with me tyun," you stand aside to let him walk in, closing the door after him. "you know you didn't have to." but you were beyond ecstatic he did.

to him though, it was a statement that taehyun didn't like hearing from time to time. it's almost as if you were rejecting his efforts and he certainly takes that to heart, you just can't see that through his stoic expressions.

"well, it was a little silly of you to think you can just walk out at night, yn. do you know how dark it is outside?" it was almost as if you were about to receive a lecture from him about safety and the dangers of walking around — in a small neighbourhood, that is.

"aw, you care about me." you say half-heartedly, bumping your shoulder with his, not knowing if it was still worth trying to shoot your shot with him, but would it really hurt to try again?

his expression changes with the littlest movement of his brows raising. not answering your statement, he passes you one of the drinks in his hand.

"i picked this up on my way here. this doesn't mean i like you though." you receive the drink from him, fingers caress against each other lightly and you look up to him, giving him a small smile while you tilt your head to the side a little.

you melted his heart right there and then. he said his last statement with no meaning whatsoever, he just doesn't want you know how much he likes you.

to you, receiving that from taehyun was very him. and you accepted to take that as a positive sign. that perhaps your feelings weren't one sided after all. your mind was slowly adding all these small pieces together one by one and you decided to keep it lowkey for now. you accepted that you will know when he wants to say it explicitly.

"but it's late tyun, americano at night?" one brow raises, confused by the choice of the caffeinated drink.

"yeah because after this walk, i'm going to help you do a little more work. knowing you, you weren't concentrating again, huh?" he takes a sip from his drink after the rhetorical question.

"okay, let's go then? the sooner we go for our walk the sooner we can get back and make a start." you chirp, mirroring his actions before placing it down and linking your arm with his, pulling him up as you walk towards the front door.

he would be lying if he thought that wasn't the cutest thing you've said and done. you knew exactly what to say to have his heart melting in his chest, but with no major reaction he huffs a little laugh under his breath.

"you can keep the cap too. it's cold lately, you don't want to get sick." he pats your head, securing the accessory on your head just before you lock up the door and walk around side by side.

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[vettelsdarling]

Ive seen alot of quote requests and I rly want a Leclerc x fem reader smut where they start out as enemies (example is like Ferrari and Mercedes or Ferrari and Redbull) pls and include these two quotes

“Youre so full of shit Ferrari boy”

“but you keep coming back”

Id be rly grateful if u could write this haha

Touch my rear wing, I dare you

➪I like the idea! Hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

➪(I’m assuming you mean Charles and not Arthur btw)

➪Also, this both follows and doesn't really follow a specific timeline. I’m just using my creative freedom for this. Some people are cut out of the story because of the reader insert!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (both receiving), swearing

Word count: 5.6k+

Backstory

You had always loved racing. Your father was a retired Formula 1 driver and had always taught you and your brother the basics of it. You used to go watch him speed around for Ferrari, which shaped your dream to become just like him. Your brother and yourself were both determined to make it as great drivers. Your mother was a stay-at-home mom with a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, convincing her to take you and your brother karting was no big feat. Especially seeing as your father was a driver himself.

You rose through the ranks faster than your brother, despite having started later than him. Your mother was hesitant to let you race at first, but eventually allowed it. You were called a star and a prodigy. Seeing as you were the only girl there, it made sense. Especially because you hit every apex just right and your overtakes were near-perfect every time.

After karting, you moved further up the ranks, eventually being crowned regional champion in Formula 3 (regional) and moving on to Formula 3.

It was there you met him; Charles Leclerc. He was the only one who seemed to be faster than you. Not only that but the idea of it had gotten to his head. You never actually spoke to him, but you'd see a smirk creep up on his face once in a while after beating you. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with the sole of your shoe. You weren't superstitious, but there was sure to be karma coming his way sooner or later.

Luckily that karma came in the form of one George Russel and one Alex Albon. The two of them were just as competitive as you and Charles, eventually making the four of you gain a lot of attraction in the media. You were great friends with George. He always showed a tremendous amount of sportsmanship towards you. One time, he even helped you by letting you pass him, having you win the race. All the whilst Charles was left in the dust. You relished in it.

When Formula 2 came around, you were stuck, yet again, with Charles. That was also when you had your first real interaction. He went up to you before the last race and struck up a rather puzzling conversation. Puzzling in the sense that you had no idea why he was talking to you, or why he even wanted to.

“Hey, you're not a bad driver, but I would suggest you try to maybe stop sulking. People notice.” Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

“Maybe you should check up on that girlfriend of yours. I don't think she's into assholes. Maybe stop being one.” Even though you were in your own garage, you walked away. You couldn't stand being in his presence for a moment longer.

You were unlucky because Charles beat you and moved on to Formula 1 before you. You and he had been tied for the championship, but somehow he found his way around to beat you. It was then you realized you had to do something— anything to get into Formula 1.

Your luck seemed to only build after Charles left Formula 2, and you easily won the following championship, signing a deal with Alfa Romeo, which, to your surprise, was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

You'd somehow managed to place yourself in the same team as Charles, making him the only thing you couldn't destroy on the grid. You had to be a fair teammate to even be considered by your dream team, Red Bull. You'd seen Sebastian Vettel in his glory days, and you wanted the same for yourself. However, being in Formula 1 proved to be much harder than 2. You didn't really know what you had expected, because so many stars were competing for the championship.

It wasn't all that bad, though, because he never really said much and the two of you were somehow able to make it work. It was mainly due to the pressure of having to look good. You knew about the media and their swirling rumours. Many speculated that you were Charles’ side piece. It didn't matter to you, as long as you knew just how far from the truth that was.

After the 2018 season, you somehow managed to sign yourself with Red Bull for 2019, driving alongside Max Verstappen. He went on to become your best friend on the grid, as nobody really liked Red Bull and you had to stick together. Sebastian Vettel became a “father figure”, following the death of your father earlier in 2018. It hit you harder than any barrier had ever hit you, but you were able to get through it with the help of Vettel.

It was in 2019, that you finally started rising to the top and watching Charles start to lag behind. The feeling of watching him struggle was like a euphoric punch. Nothing made you happier. You and Max were a powerhouse of a team. He helped you, you helped him. He was more than happy with it, and so were you.

Everything led up to the 2022 season, where you started casually hooking up with none other than Charles Leclerc. It started at a party that Lando threw after the 2021 season had ended.

-Flashback-

You were dancing out on the floor. Your dress barely covered your assets and you'd had more shots than you could count on your fingers. Completely wasted. That's what you were. What made matters worse was that you continued to do increasingly risky things like doing a handstand, which almost made your dress pull down with gravity. Everyone seemed to cheer you on, as they were just as drunk as you, if not more. Well, all but one. Charles lurked in the corner of the room. He didn't drink. You weren't sure why, nor did you care. But his eyes had been on you all night. The increasingly provocative behaviours you exhibited fueled something carnal within himself. Something he wasn't so sure he could control. He hated you, but at the same time… he hated the thought of someone getting their hands on you. He couldn't understand his line of reasoning. He didn't even think he had one.

The line was crossed when you came down to do a split on the floor, which ripped your dress; putting your panties on full display. Nobody but Charles paid attention to the severity of the move, so he pushed through the crowd and picked you up like you were nothing. He wasn't in control anymore. His brain had just switched to auto-pilot. Nobody realized he took you. Nobody realized the two of you were gone.

The next morning, you found yourself in a fluffy white bed, which horrified you. Your sheets were deep green and silk. Nothing like the bed you were lying in. On top of that, your clothes were gone and you were lying in your underwear. Groggy, you pulled yourself up and realized you were alone. Next to you was a bedtable with a glass of orange juice with a pill next to it. There was a card too and it was addressed to you.

“I bet you had a nice time last night. I had to leave early for a meeting, but I left you some things for your hangover. Call me if you need anything and leave whenever you want to.

– Charles”

You were beyond shocked. You were at a loss for words. Had you really slept with Charles? Charles Leclerc? The one person you hated on the grid? You could barely believe the two of you had a friendly interaction, let alone slept together. You quickly chugged the juice with the pill and got out of bed. You couldn't find your dress anywhere, so you decided to go find Charles’ closet. Everything was too big for you, but after some digging, you found a shirt and a pair of pants that you were able to adjust to your own size. You didn't care about your messy hair. You just had to get out of that house. When trying to remember what had happened the night before, you only added to the already existing headache. The conclusion then was; you slept with Charles after getting drunk and you would never ever tell a soul or do it again.

You debated whether to ask Max to come and get you, or call an Uber. You knew Max would pick you up and not ask questions… well if it didn’t involve Charles. You ended up paying for an Uber to not let the secret spill. Max was a trusted friend but you didn’t even want him to know. Vettel would likely just give you any advice a dad usually would, which was why you decided not to bother him either. Besides, everyone would probably be too hungover to care about anyone and anything but their bowel movements.

“Miss, where to?” Asked the driver. You told him the address and he started driving. Unlike other Ubers you’d taken before, this guy was chatty. He told you about his dog, a golden retriever that he named Lila. He talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had to be careful not to accidentally tune his talking out like white noise.

After a while, you were finally dropped off and you were left alone to soak in the painful false memory of sleeping with Charles.

- End of flashback-

*Still not present. First race of the 2022 season

You walked around your car, gliding your hand around it, feeling the smooth metal against your gloves. That’s when your peace was disturbed by a voice you hated all too much.

“Are you ready for 22?” You turned your head to see Charles with a smug look on his face. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the day you walked out of his apartment. It was simply too embarrassing for you.

“Don’t talk to me. Go bother someone else,” you huffed. Max was talking to Horner in the back of the garage. You had nobody to save you from having to talk to Charles.

“After the night we had? I don’t think so,” he said whilst walking closer and almost touching your rear wing.

“Touch my rear wing, I dare you.” The two of you shared a brief look after you said that. Charles then took the liberty of walking closer to you.

“You know what? I have a bet. If I win this race, you come home with me. I just want to talk, okay? If you win… you can ignore me and treat me like trash. Deal?” You contemplated for a while but realized it was in his favour.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want to go with you and I certainly don’t want the Bahrain curse looming over my head. What kind of deal is this?” You spat. He only seemed to be amused by that.

“Slipped my mind. Okay, then let’s do it like this; whoever places the highest— wins.” You immediately shook his hand harshly and started prepping for the race.

You ended up in P2 with Charles taking the risk of the Bahrain curse. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he would risk the championship just to sit and talk with you. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t want to talk about that night. Why would he want to? It wasn’t like the outcome ended in a pregnancy. There was nothing to talk about.

After the race, an interviewer came up to you after having talked to Charles.

“—And hello, P2! You were amazing out there! Even avoiding pole position! How do you feel?” You felt like you’d lost everything. It was miserable. You hated losing in races, but you certainly also hated losing bets.

“I mean, I feel great! I was able to stay on top; and to me, it still feels like a 1-2 for Red Bull.” You lied straight through your teeth. It was a strike of sheer luck that you were born with such an amazing PR ability.

“Charles said that you might be upset for placing behind him, care to comment?” You looked at the interviewer with a puzzled look on your face.

“Uhhh, I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know about the Bahrain curse?” You chuckled and quickly tried to make your way away from her. She waved and you waved back with a short smile.

Upon arriving at the Red Bull motorhome, you saw Max sitting on a couch with Kelly. He looked satisfied with the win for Red Bull.

“Hey, congrats on P2. Max was telling me about it,” said Kelly. You never really liked Kelly all that much, but she was nice to Max so you didn’t bother her. Penelope, her daughter, was cute and you’d sometimes offer to babysit her for them.

“Yeah, it was a nice race.” You grabbed a juice box from the fridge and let yourself slump down in a chair.

“Why do you look so defeated? This is basically a 1-2 for us.” Max and Kelly made sure to look concerned. You didn’t want to talk about it, nor did you want to think about it. You had to meet up with Charles anyway, so you decided to give a short and vague response, before leaving,

“I guess I’m just tired. I have to go now, actually.”

You waited by Charles’ car, knowing that the paparazzi were taking pictures of you doing so. You tried your best to remain anonymous though, wearing a thick hoodie with no print along with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask. Your hair was tucked inside the hood of the hoodie. Nobody could really tell who you were, but they’d certainly speculate.

“You look like a serial killer; waiting by my car with that outfit,” said a voice coming up behind you. You saw the many fans screaming and the paparazzi wanting statements. Charles ignored them and opened the door for you. Still not wanting to actually converse with him, you decided to sit in the backseat instead. The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes, sighed, shut the shotgun seat door and got in himself. You were not going to sit next to him. You knew that only bad things would come of it.

“So, I’m your taxi driver now? Why didn’t you just get in when I opened the door for you?” He sounded a bit pissy and it was in all honesty pretty entertaining to sit and ignore.

“Hmm. Okay. So you’re only talking when it’s absolutely necessary?” You ignored him yet again. It was a mystery how the drunk version of you got to talking with him— even going as far as sleeping with him. Ever since that night, you’d had dreams about it. You believed they were fragments of memories coming back to you. It was haunting to relive. All those dreams about him; about Charles, they were just like any adult movie you’d seen before. It was embarrassingly detailed.

Luckily, the awkward car ride was short. The two of you arrived at his hotel and quickly got inside. The fact that the two of you were going to be alone in his suite was daunting to you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you something to drink.” You took off your sunglasses, cap, and mask, and sat by the table in the room. Charles served your drinks before sitting across from you. It was like a fever dream; being in a hotel suite with your one true rival.

“I know you might not want to talk about what happened four months ago… but I think we should,” Charles began. You dreaded the atmosphere. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

“Look, I have dreams about what happened and I just— I don’t really know what to say,” you shot in before he could say anything else.

“You remember? I didn’t think you would. You were so drunk, you know?”

“I remember alright. I’ve dreamt about that night so many times now, I think I’m going to go crazy soon.” You buried your face in your hands whilst sighing.

“Yeah… I think I would be embarrassed too…” you looked up in confusion.

“Embarrassed…? I know we’re not exactly mates, but embarrassing?” At the very least, he could’ve tried to be more sympathetic. You’d been extremely drunk that night.

“Yeah, you were so loud. I got complaints from my neighbours.” Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. He wasn’t talking about your body. He was talking about your moaning. You weren’t sure how you’d recover from that one.

“Shit… but you were technically also a part of it. You’re making it sound like it’s all me.” You scowled at him.

“How was I a part of that?”

“Well, for starters, you’re the one who fucked me. I told you. I keep dreaming that… so much of it… I want to throw up.” It was probably a bad idea to have admitted that, but you didn’t want to lose the dispute.

“Fucked? You think we fucked?” He sounded genuinely surprised. His face also matched the tone of his voice, with his eyes wide open.

“Yeah, against the headboard… as I remember it, we went at it hard. On top of that, I was drunk… so can you blame me for being loud?” His shocked face suddenly melted into a smirk and his signature smug face after rubbing a victory in yours.

“So you’re telling me… you’ve dreamt about me taking you against the headboard in my apartment? Going at it hard?” Was he toying with you? You couldn’t tell.

“You know… that’s not what happened. You were so drunk I had to take you to my apartment. You were yelling and crying the entire time for some reason. I had to change you out of your dress because you threw up on it and you also threw up on the floor. You passed out minutes after you did so…” when you came to that realization, you were beyond embarrassed. The most embarrassing thing was the dreams that you admitted to having. Dreams that weren’t actual memories, but just your imagination. Did you want to fuck him? Was that it? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it,

“If I’m correct… you were having wet dreams about… me?” You didn’t answer him. You simply got up from your seat and made your way to the front door. You had to leave. However, before you could open it, Charles pinned you to it, trapping you between his arms.

“What are you doing, Leclerc?” You looked at him with doe eyes. His breathing was ragged and you could tell he had some bad intentions.

“I have a new deal to make. For the rest of the calendar, let’s have it this way: whoever places highest wins.” He took a moment to breathe and stare into your eyes somewhat intensely.

“What about the winner?” You asked. The air felt hot and heavy. A knee was pushed between your legs.

“The winner…” he hesitated,

“The winner decides whether to fuck or not.” You gulped at his words and saw the look in his eyes.

“Deal.” The rest was history.

*Present time

It was the last race of the season and you were more than happy to finally take a well-deserved break. You had placed podium plenty of times and won against Leclerc more times than you could remember. The arrangement the two of you had set up was flawed, however. You both knew it was a bad excuse to hook up with each other, as neither of you ever chose to not fuck.

“Fuck, we need to bring this one home. If you win this, you’re the champion! First ever female champion and it’s for our team! Go out there and drive like your life depends on it, yeah?” Horner’s pep talks always got you into your racing mindset. He was the only person besides Max who was really able to lift your spirits like that.

“I’ll be there to fend off anyone threatening your pole,” said Max, who was getting ready to step in. You smiled and went in for a tight hug,

“Thanks, Max. Let’s bring it home for Red Bull!” The two of you got into your positions with your cars. The lineup was in your favour, as you’d placed pole in the qualifying session. Max was in P4, but you knew he’d have no problem working his way right behind you.

As soon as the race started, you sped off. It was smooth, and you worked most apexes just right. The radio sounded and told you that Max was right behind you, which put your mind at ease. You had nothing to be worried about as long as Max was on defense.

“So uh, Max just took out Sainz along with himself. It’s all up to you now. Leclerc is a little under half a second behind you. Your heart sank. Not just because of Max’s sacrifice, but also because Leclerc was behind you. He had the power to snatch the championship from you and graciously hand it over to another driver. You couldn’t have that happen. You simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to let Horner down, and you couldn’t bear to live with letting Max down after his takedown.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll fend him off as much as possible. We’re in the homestretch anyway, right?”

“Yes, just 5 more laps to go.” You gave it your all. You saw red. Everything was just about winning and keeping the Ferrari car behind you.

In the end, you won, but you actually couldn’t understand how. Even though you gave it your all, you did have tiny lapses of moments where Leclerc could’ve snuck in and gone for the win… but for some reason, he didn’t.

You were met with tight hugs and huge roars from fans. Max immediately lifted you up into the air and brought Christian over to do a group hug. Your interview was breezy and you felt like you’d won at life. All throughout listening to your national anthem and spraying champagne on your fellow drivers, you couldn’t help but think about Charles and why in the world he let you win.

You met up with Charles after everything. You decided to go straight to the Ferrari motorhome. There he was. In all his glory. He was scrolling through his phone, presumably checking his emails and his socials.

“Hey, uh, Charles… could we talk for a minute?” You asked. The look he gave you when he noticed was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He followed you outside and to a more secluded area where you were sure nobody would be able to hear you.

“You let me win,” you began.

“I didn’t. All I did was—“

“Shut up, okay? I know you did. I just… I want to know why,” you sighed and put a hand on your hip.

“I think you deserved the win. That’s all,” he smiled and crossed his arms.

“You’re so full of shit, Ferrari boy,” you spat and looked away. There wasn’t much around you, but a brick wall and a fence. Nobody would be able to spot you with Charles. The last thing you wanted was for the media to think the two of you were fraternizing.

“—But you keep coming back,” he replied. You slowly turned your head, only to be shoved into the wall behind you. The brunette had both of your arms locked by his hands. There was no escape for you. You had to confront whatever the two of you had been running around doing for the past season.

“Tell me, why is it such a bad thing for us to just fuck and actually feel things for each other?” He whispered. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to deny everything. He was foul, he was rude, he was reckless, but he was yours… he’d always been yours. Ever since he broke up with Giatti, the two of you had an eerie air around each other. One that couldn’t be explained with your past. One that made your heart beat faster.

“You remember the dreams you had about Lando’s party? That was all you. You must’ve felt something for me to have dreamt something like that,” he continued. Oh gosh, the dreams. He just had to bring up the dreams. You knew, however, that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Your stomach would churn with butterflies whenever you thought back to your dreams.

“Screw just fucking. Why shouldn’t we date? Tell me why we can’t be with each other.” He looked directly into your eyes, desperately searching for an answer.

“I… I just can’t— I mean I… I hate you,” you said,

“I fucking hate you, Charles!” He started backing off, and you started cornering him against the fence behind him.

“I hate how you make me feel all of these things I’m not supposed to feel!” You calmed down, and once again, were shoved against the wall.

“Tell me all about how I make you feel. My place or yours?”

“Yours… my room is further than yours,” you said whilst avoiding eye contact.

Charles immediately took you to his hotel suite. It was right next to Hamilton’s. As soon as the door opened— you threw your arms around his neck and he told you to jump into his arms. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and the two of you made out feverishly. There was no time to bring it to the bedroom. The two of you were used to doing it in all sorts of places. The Ferrari driver placed you on a counter and you started stripping each other. He was impressed by your effort to wear matching lace underwear. Whenever you did so, you always claimed it was for yourself, but he liked to beg to differ.

“Fuck, tell me.” Charles was buried in your neck, you couldn’t make yourself answer.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he gasped before going in again.

“Good… you make me feel so good,” you sighed. His lips latched onto every part of your neck that made you feel like royalty.

“You know what I mean, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” his demanding voice was enough to make you pant harder.

“You make my… My heart beat faster,” you moaned.

“—And?”

“I feel fuzzy around you.” He loved hearing your declarations of love, so much that he couldn't take the slow pace anymore.

In a flash, he grabbed you by the hips and helped you to the floor on your knees.

“God, you're divine. Can you be a good girl and suck?” you stared at him as you removed his boxers, letting his dick spring free. It twitched in appreciation for your touch. You traced your fingers against a particularly prominent vein and heard his sounds of pleasure. He groaned and bucked his hips, needing your mouth. You met his wishes; starting by licking from the bottom to the tip. When you wrapped your lips around him, he tangled his fingers in your hair and started bobbing your head on his cock. You couldn't take all of him, but he pressed on, making you gag.

“You take me so well,“ Charles sighed, throwing his head back. With the help of his hand in your hair, you went faster, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat with every bop of your head. He seethed through his teeth and after a few minutes, you could tell he was getting close. He was grunting like crazy and pulling your hair as if his life depended on it. God, when he looked at you— he almost came. Tears stained your face and your mascara was running.

“Fuck, baby, I can't hold it anymore,“ he moaned and rammed into your face a final time, releasing his cum down your throat. You swallowed everything. He was breathless and so were you, but even so— he still had more stamina left. Stamina that he needed to use up.

“I want to taste you.“ He sat you on the counter again, before roughly spreading your legs. His fingertips teased you, grazing your inner thighs; getting closer and closer to your cunt.

“Hurry, I need you,“ you sighed and grabbed his hair.

“Beg.“

“What?“

“I said to beg for it.“ The Ferrari driver had a lustful gaze and his eyes were filled with a certain need. The insatiable hunger for you.

“Please?”

“Not good enough.”

“Please, Charles.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please… Eat me out, Leclerc.”

“Good girl,” he said before diving in. With a thumb flicking your clit, he began sucking, his tongue messaged your folds in an unreal way. He slurped as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were his salvation.

“Oh fuck, Charles!” You couldn't help but squeeze his head between your thighs. With one hand, he clenched your thigh tightly, continuing to suck you for all you were worth.

Your moans and gasps motivated him to go faster and thrust his tongue deeper into you. Your vision was blurry with pleasure. He was too good, and you couldn't take it for much longer.

“I'm going to cum,” you half-screamed and pulled him closer. He pulled away for a quick second to get a word in,

“Cum on my tongue, baby. Give it to me,” his words mixed with the pleasure of his tongue pushed you over the edge, and you found yourself releasing all over his mouth. He licked you clean afterwards and cleaned his face with a kitchen towel.

Whilst he was walking back to you, you noticed his dick being fully erect again. How that was possible, was beyond you. Apparently, he saw you staring; because he chuckled before trapping you in a delicious kiss. You tasted a bit of yourself on his tongue. It was so erotic, you couldn't fathom it.

“You taste like heaven, babydoll,” Charles whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I'm going in. You're still on the pill, right?” He asked before doing anything. You nodded swiftly and bucked your hips desperately.

“Please, Charles.”

“Please what?“

“Please fuck me stupid, Charles” He was caught off-guard by your bold response. It flipped a switch in him that made him go rogue. You were immediately swept off the counter and bent over it instead. He pinned your hands above your head and rubbed your cunt before stroking himself a few times, and then entering slowly.

“Oh fuck, you're so tight.” You heard him groan. When he reached as far as he could with your current position, you arched your back to help him reach deeper. He rested to let you get used to him. You'd had sex more times than you could count, but somehow, you were always tight. This time wasn't any different.

After a few moments, you told him to move; which he did. He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip in. From there, he slammed into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched like a cat.

“Fuck!” You couldn't help but scream out. The stretch was beyond amazing. He was doing you just right. With every moan and every call of his name, he gained more confidence. The confidence fed him the energy and stamina to go even faster and harder.

You were an utter mess. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the amount of sweat that clung to it. You were seeing stars and it felt like you were choking. You repeatedly screamed out his name like a holy mantra. It was unreal.

“Scream my name louder, sugar. Let the entire hotel know who you belong to!” You obliged. Your screams got louder and his thrusts— wilder. You felt your legs going numb, so Charles lifted one and it helped him reach even deeper than before. His hips rutted directly against yours at that point. It was heaven on earth.

“Fuck, I'm so close!” You finally yelled.

“Cum with me, okay?”

You went at it like rabbits for a few more minutes before you felt your knot begin to undo itself. Leclerc’s thrusts became more and more sloppy. It didn't take long before you came all over his dick, which pushed him to fill you to the brim. The mixture of your essence and his dripped down your thighs. You couldn't move. You couldn't feel your legs.

“Let's take a shower and go take a rest.” He lifted you from the counter and swung you over his shoulder, walking into the shower. When he turned it on, you felt the hot drops of water rain down on your skin. He helped clean you, as you couldn't stand on your own.

“I'm sorry if I was too rough,” He said whilst scrubbing your back.

“No, I'm fine. This was amazing, Ferrari boy.” He chuckled at your nickname.

After showering, the two of you headed straight to his bed. You cuddled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs were entangled with his and his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you almost fully onto himself.

“Did you mean it? Do you really have feelings for me?” He asked, looking at the ceiling.

“Did you let me win?” You asked.

”... Yes, I did,” he replied sheepishly.

“Then you have your answer.” With that, you found it hard to stay awake for a second longer; passing out whilst hearing the sound of his heart beating to yours.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[sweetkpopmusings]

changkyun coworker headcanons <3

a/n: eeeee my sweet boy changkyun!!! i adore him endlessly, and it only felt right to put this out as i recently saw him on his tour :,-) genuinely he is so precious to me....changkyun if you're listening, come back into my pocket !! pics not mine~

content: fluff, nonidol!au | wc: 1.1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: coworker!changkyun x gn!reader | requests:open

changkyun is one of those coworkers you notice frequently but never really have the chance to interact with him

he politely nods at everyone in the office–you included–and he seems friendly and professional from the conversations you’ve overheard

from what you can tell, changkyun’s either laser-focused on all of his work or very introverted you learn later that it’s both

then, one day, changkyun comes up to your desk 

you answer his question about the project you were working on, not fully computing that changkyun was speaking to you for the first time

you’re almost intimidated by his appearance and deep voice, until he flashes you the cutest smile you’ve ever seen

the more you cross paths in the office, the more changkyun will greet you with a “hello” or “how are you?” instead of just a nod

at first, you’re not sure whether he likes you, as he’s still pretty quiet

but you start to catch on when he sits next to you in meetings or in the break room

he will usually start conversations with a random question, work-related or otherwise

despite how shy he seemed, changkyun’s amazing at making you feel comfortable

it isn’t long before you two chatter quietly during meetings and even joke around 

you don’t even get scolded when you two laugh loudly because everything’s so shocked changkyun was loud LOL

speaking of nearly getting scolded

he messages you the most random questions/facts during work and it is always at the worst time 

he doesn’t intend it, but changkyun is a master of poorly timed “10 strangest deep sea fish” article messages

it’s so endearing though so you don’t get mad…except for the one time the message popped up while you were presenting in a meeting 

everyone stifled their laughter when they saw it was from changkyun

he apologized before you could say anything :,-) because other people in the meeting asked him to send him the same link he sent you lmao

good luck working on projects with him <3

don’t get me wrong ! he’s the best partner because he’d super hard working AND has an amazing, one of a kind mind

but sometimes it’s hard to keep up with his thought process

you have to figure out a balance of trusting him wholeheartedly even when you don’t fully understand what he’s doing and knowing when to ask question after question until you’re on the same page

he has no problem explaining himself to you though !!

changkyun is refreshed by the fact that someone cares enough to understand what’s going on in his mind :,-)

sometimes he even pre-plans his explanations in case you have questions :-( he’s so precious :-( 

changkyun cares a lot about you too. like more than you realize

he gets so upset if you’re stressed :-(

even when you two barely know each other, it hurts his heart when you’re overwhelmed or down

he’ll be a bit flustered, but he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel better

changkyun gets to know what comforts you pretty quickly

you don’t notice it right away because he isn’t always asking you specific questions

but he picks up on the things you do when you’re stressed, making mental notes of ways he can support you

if you like to get yourself treats or bevvies when you need a pick-me-up, changkyun 100% keeps a list on his phone of all your go-to’s

he will absolutely blush and giggle shyly if you comment on how he knows you so well :,-) he’ll say something casual but his heart is FULL of joy because he loves that you can see how much he knows you and cares about you <333

he’ll fluster you plenty though

especially when he randomly drops really sentimental thoughts on you

or writes you a note expressing how much you’ve helped him without doing anything other than just being by his side

like changkyun ??? it is 9:30 a.m. on a wednesday you can’t just tell someone “i’m glad i took this job because without it i never would have met you”

he cannot be stopped. if his heart feels warm, he needs to tell you right away because he doesn’t want the moment to pass <3

once he gets that comfortable with you, changkyun considers you a friend friend, not just a work friend

so, as long as you’re comfortable with it, he starts suggesting ways to hang out outside of work !! 

at first, all the suggestions are things like going to coffee shops, attending events for your shared interests, etc.

but he lets it slip one day that, even though he was really excited to go out on the town with you that friday night, he was so exhausted from the week that he wanted nothing more than to lounge on his couch and watch tv

so you said, “why don’t we just do that?”

changkyun looks at you with complete and utter shock

“y-you…you’d want to do that with me?”

you look at him with complete confusion because of course ??? what are friends for ??? also work WAS exhausting this week so you don’t want to go anywhere either lol

his face LIGHTS up and he’s giggling with excitement at a chill night in with you

changkyun’s talking faster than you’ve ever heard when he starts recommending shows and movies for you two to watch together and snacks to have and a “dress code” 

you tell him to take a breath and that you’re sure the night will be perfect :,-)

he nods and stops himself from talking even more because he knows his work needs to be done, so he waves goodbye and says he can’t wait for the week to be over

for the rest of the week, he messages you different links so you can pick out the content lineup

changkyun, looking so comfy in his hoodie, is buzzing when he opens the door to his place

you’re surprised and endeared because he’s so energetic when all you two plan on doing is sitting on the couch 

turns out quality time is a love language for him because you swear you’ve never seen him happier :,-)

after all the laughs and calm moments, changkyun admits that he has never been happier than he was hanging out with you, so he hopes that you two can do this more often

your answer is obviously yes because changkyun is the sweetest and best person to hang out with <333

changkyun can’t stop smiling because now it’s official: he can see his favorite person (you) every day and everywhere, so long as you want to see him which you always want to <3333

[nataliesfirefly]

chapter 4 - ‘tis the damn season

a/n: new chapter for you!! a little longer than usual, but i had so much fun writing this one :)) the slow burn is slow burning, but we’re finally getting somewhere! it will pay off, i promise <3

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 4.7k

series masterlist

The word ‘stress’ does not even begin to describe how you are feeling at the moment. This time of year is always the worst, right before Christmas holiday. All the final exams fall in the same week, right before the end of the term, and not to mention your final project for English; the essay.

Which wasn’t coming along too badly, you realize. You and Farleigh have actually made impressive progress, and not to be too prideful, but this might be the best essay you’ve ever written. But definitely not because of his help. No, you’ve done most of it. He’s just been there for… moral support? And… occassionally adding worthwhile things to the writing. Occasionally.

In fact, you unfortunately have started to grow fond of his presence and his company. He’s not a bad guy, you’ve realized. He’s quite funny, and has a certain way of dragging a giggle out of you or causing a smile to tug at your lips, in contrast to your usual resting bitch face. You’re going to miss those late nights spent in his room, considerably past curfew, meaning you typically had to sneak back to your own dorm as carefully as possible. You can’t seem to figure out why time goes by so fast when you’re with him, whether it’s because you’re trying to finish up a project or because of… other reasons.

Lately, you’ve also been finding yourself to be very nervous whenever he speaks to you. Your voice trembles, you suddenly forget your whole vocabularly, and that stupid blush that always creeps onto your face, feeling like flames on your cheeks.

You only have a bit of editing and revising to do on the essay before it is ready to turn in. Some finishing touches. Which means it will be ready to turn in next Friday, a week from today, the last day of the term before winter holiday.

You throw the covers off of yourself and yawn, climbing out of bed. This weekend will be brutal, since you’ve designated it to studying for exams, which means a few late nights spent at the library. But for some reason, you feel excited to go to class today. English class, specifically. You slip out of your pajamas and fold them neatly into a drawer.

As you step into your skirt and tug on your white button-up, you glance at your calendar posted on the wall. You feel warm just thinking about returning home to see your family in Bath. You picture your mother’s welcoming smile and your father’s comforting embrace, and those evenings you will spend gathered around the fireplace, regaling them with tales from your first term of the school year as you stuff your face with sweets. If you’re lucky, you’ll even get snow. The last time you had a white Christmas was… well, you can’t even seem to remember.

You observe yourself in the mirror as you work on tying your tie, suddenly hyper-aware of your appearance. You comb your fingers through your hair, realizing you haven’t brushed it yet. You step over to your chest of drawers and grab your hairbrush, dragging it through your hair quite aggressively. You’ve never cared much about how you look, it’s always been more of a personality thing. How others perceived you was what mattered, but not in a physical aspect.

But who are you trying to impress? You scoff sarcastically at the idea, shaking your head. You throw your brush onto your bed before grabbing a pair of black socks, pulling them up your legs. And finally, your trusty jacket, provided to you by the school. It doesn’t help much with the cold, but at least it looks cool with your uniform. You hurriedly step into your shoes once you’ve buttoned your coat and race back to the mirror, brushing through your hair one last time. Does it look okay? You think. Should I tie it up? Or at least do something with it?

No. You shake your head and bop yourself on the head with the brush. “That’s enough,” You say under your breath, as if to silence your own thoughts. You sling your bag over your shoulder and as you’re walking to the door, your stomach lurches as a sudden realization comes over you.

You’re trying to look good for Farleigh. What the hell are you on?! You slap a hand to your forehead and groan dramatically. Suddenly, you think of Clara and all her random appearances she’s been making, flirting with him and twirling her hair. What does she do differently?

Her skirt. She rolls it up on purpose to make it shorter. You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you return to the mirror once again. You tentatively roll your skirt up at the waistband, making it a bit shorter. You’ve always followed dresscode, the fingertip rule. But if she can get away with it, so can you, right?

You step back and admire your long legs and your thighs. Wait, what on Earth are you doing? Your face burns with humiliation. You’re basically trying to seduce a man. No, not even a man. A boy! An immature, stupid, extremely handsome boy.

You trudge back to your door determinedly, swinging it open and stepping out into the hallway, locking it behind you. You picture Farleigh’s face in your mind as you walk through the corridor and down the stairs. His caramel skin, his eyes that remind you of chocolate, his perfect teeth, his curls… Fuck.

And the weather isn’t helping. You sort of regret adjusting your skirt now, since you’ve just given the freezing air more opportunity to bite at your skin. It seems today you might actually be on time to class, though. You reach the door to the east wing and step inside, seeing a group of students gathered outside Mrs. Chasteen’s door.

You squint harder and realize it’s your class. You curiously walk over and spot Magdalena, so you tap on her shoulder.

She turns around and her face immediately brightens. “Hey! You’re early for once in your life.” She grins and you shove her playfully. “Oh, come off it. Is she not here today?” You point to the door and she quirks an eyebrow. “No, I think she’s here. Sometimes it just takes a while for her to get here, and we show up before her.” She shrugs. “But what would you know? You’re always dashing in at the last second.” Lena tsks and shakes her head, wagging a finger at you.

“Ready for holiday?” You ask. Her eyes brighten at the mention of the upcoming break. “Oh my God. You don’t even know how ready I am.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “But we have to get through those bloody exams first. At least we got our GCSEs done last year.” Lena nudges you softly with her shoulder. “True.” You nod in agreement. You truly believed those blasted tests were going to be the death of you.

At that moment, Lena’s gaze leaves yours and travels slightly upwards, to something in the distance. Or someone, rather.

“There’s your shadow.” She points with a quiet little giggle. “Wha-” You turn to follow her eyes. Shit. You immediately turn back to Lena, your heart racing as panic starts to set in. You start to feel hot, despite the cold air of the corridor.

“What do you mean ‘my shadow’?” You furrow your brows and tilt your head, hoping she elaborates. “I mean, you two are always together. And he follows you around like a lost puppy. I know I’m not the only one who notices it.” She lowers her voice to a hurried whisper.

“Maybe because we’re working on the final project together?!” You whisper back harshly. “Mm. Right.” She nods and crosses her arms, spinning on her heel to go chat with someone else. “Lena! Lena, don’t leave me!” You whisper-scream after her, but she doesn’t turn back for you.

“What was that about?” You already know it’s him before you even register who’s speaking. You spin around, much closer to Farleigh than you thought. You stare up at him awkwardly, pretty much eye-level with his chest. You step back cautiously.

“Uh. You know…” For such a large vocabularly you claim to hold, it seems to be failing you at the moment. “Erm. Girl things?” It comes out like more of a question than you mean it to. You feel that familiar burn scorching up your neck and onto your cheeks. Fuck, it always gives you away.

“Girl things?” He repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Yep. Like, periods and stuff.” You freeze, your brain registering what just came out of your mouth. Oh, good Lord. Your eyes shoot down to the ground as you suddenly become interested in the stonework.

“Oh. That’s… cool. I guess.” He replies just as awkwardly, and for a minute you think that maybe he’s nervous too. No, he’s not. How else would you reply to a girl who’s just randomly brought up periods? There’s not much you can really say to that.

“Not really.” You shake your head and shift your weight onto your other leg, glancing back up at him. You really need to work on keeping your mouth shut during awkward moments.

And then, for one sliver of a second, you see his eyes trail down to your legs, and then quickly back up to your gaze. He clears his throat. “Our teacher seems to be late today,” He remarks.

You nod quickly, grateful for the change of subject. “Yeah. Maybe she’s just as sick of this as we all are.” You gesture to your fellow peers. You look back up to him, meeting his eyes once again. You swear, if you could just swim in them you would. You would make them your home and never leave their warmth. He stares back at you, his gaze unrelenting. You feel yourself growing hot once again, like you need to go back out into that chilling wind.

And then, your favorite person comes along, cheerfully skipping through the corridor, her steps echoing off the tall walls. She pauses mid-step, turning to you and Farleigh.

“Oh! Hi, guys!” Clara grins, showing off her blinding white smile.

“Hello, Clara.” You mutter reluctantly. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “Hey,” Farleigh replies. She steps oddly close to him, staring up at him with her baby blue eyes. Those must be her secret weapon, you think. She traces a finger down his chest and giggles. What the fuck is she doing? Farleigh’s face reddens and he looks down at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “What was that for?” He mutters. “No reason,” She shrugs with another giggle.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt jealousy this strong. It’s a feeling that bubbles up in your stomach, clawing its way up into your chest, burning through your veins like a fire. It’s an unpleasant feeling, you realize, as you look at Clara and try to hide your distaste. How can he be enjoying this? Does he really like her? Your mind spins.

She steps back from him and flips her hair. “I really should be getting to class right now…” She says, looking around the hall. “You’d better get going, then,” You murmur under your breath before clearing your throat. The words kind of just slipped out before you could think about them. Clara glances over to you so quickly you swear she almost snaps her neck.

“What was that?” She asks with that saccharine smile playing on her lips. “I said you’d better get going, that’s all.” You smile right back at her. She looks like she’s biting back some snippy remark, before she flips the switch and smiles again. “You’re right. Don’t want to be late!” She winks at Farleigh before skipping off again.

You look down at your shoes for a moment, pondering what to say next before looking back up at him. To your surprise, he’s staring down at you, a look on his face that you can’t quite figure out.

“What was that about?” You ask, snickering nervously as if it’s humorous, when really the whole interaction made you want to die. He opens his mouth to speak, but then is interrupted by greetings from your classmates to Mrs. Chasteen. You turn around to see her turning the key to her classroom, fiddling with the doorknob before opening it. You decide it’s better to not talk about the Clara situation right now.

“So, you think we can get the essay done today?” Farleigh asks as you both walk to your usual table. “Possibly. If Mrs. Chasteen even allows us to work on it,” You reply, setting your things down and sitting. You tug at your skirt, which to your annoyance, continues to ride up your thighs. Fuck Clara and her stupid skirts.

“Look at her. She looks exhausted. Do you really think she wants to teach right now?” He subtly nods in your teacher’s direction. She’s sitting at her desk and sipping a mug of steaming tea, or perhaps coffee, you can’t tell which. She usually has bags under her eyes but today they seem more pronounced.

“She’s probably been grading a lot,” You mutter to him. He shrugs. “Or maybe she had a thrilling Thursday night out on the town,” He whispers, nudging you playfully with his arm. The heat of the proximity has you burning up, inside and out. It makes you want to snuggle up next to him and chase his heat, especially on this cold winter’s day. You remind yourself to laugh at his comment.

“Mrs. Chasteen? Going out? Yeah, when pig’s fly.” You giggle genuinely at the thought. “I’m serious! We should do a stake out,” A boyish grin spreads across his face, lazy and lovely and truly beautiful. You drink in the sight, taking in his features and wishing you could screenshot this moment with your brain and keep it tucked away for later.

“She’s married, you idiot.” You swat him on the arm and his stupidly charming grin only intensifies. “Well, you’d be surprised.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his long legs. God, you usually hate when men do that. But…

Your eyes betray you. Fuck, he’s so handsome. And tempting. You’ve never had such scandalized thoughts about someone before. You start to wonder what he would look like with his shirt collar loosened, or with the buttons undone. Or maybe with just his tie on.

You hear your name suddenly, interrupting your diabolical thoughts. “Are you okay?” Farleigh asks. Shit. You’ve spent too much time analyzing his appearance and imagining him with less clothes.

You already know your face is giving you away with the pure heat that warms your cheeks. “Oh.” You say stupidly. What the fuck?! You curse yourself internally.

“Yeah. I’m great. Sorry, I was just… thinking about–” Think. Think of something. An excuse. Anything.

“The essay. Mhm.” You nod aggressively almost to convince yourself rather than him. “What about it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow with intrigue.

“I think it’s gonna be… so good,” You lose your train of thought once again as your eyes focus between his legs this time. Did he choose tighter pants today on purpose, or is your mind playing tricks on you? Your tongue darts out to lick your lips before you glance back up at him.

His eyes widen. You freeze and immediately turn to face the front of the classroom with a loud swallow. Thank God for Mrs. Chasteen.

She clears her throat. “I’m not feeling too well today, hence my late arrival. Feel free to work on your essay. Or whatever it is that you want to do…” She waves her hand dismissively and then continues organizing things at her desk. The chatter in the classroom resumes.

“Told ya,” Farleigh says, clearly happy with himself and his prediction. Normally, you would make some quippy remark about how this is the one time he’s right and he’d better enjoy it while it lasts. But instead you remain silent, pulling out your laptop.

It’s your last night to study and cram all possible information into your mind before finals week. You’re not even sure your brain has anymore room to store said information. Nevertheless, you feel slightly more confident about your tests than you did before your first night at the library on Friday. And, you and Farleigh finished the essay and turned it in.

You yawn and check the time in the bottom right corner of your laptop’s screen. Sunday, 10:03 PM. Your tired eyes widen and glance around. To your surprise, many students are still gathered here, almost every desk full. Lucky for you (and everyone else), the library has extended hours during the week before end of term exams. You believe it closes at three AM, since keeping it open any later would encourage students to pull an all nighter. Which they probably do anyways when they get back to their dorm.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and you spin around. “Hey.” Farleigh smiles down at you. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest at the sight of him. “Hi,” You respond, your voice coming out at a higher pitch than you expected. You cringe internally.

“You look like hell,” He says. His voice carries a teasing lilt, so you play along and poke him. “Let me guess, you’ve been here since… six?” He tilts his head in a way that reminds you of a puppy.

“Six thirty, to be precise,” You reply with a sarcastic eye roll. “Jesus. What a tryhard,” He shakes his head in mock disapproval. “Shut up. Showing up to study at ten PM is arguably worse. Do you always wait until the last possible minute?” You scoff but it turns into more of a giggle than you intended. He sits down next to you.

“I’m smart enough to where I can wait ‘til the last minute.” He flashes a grin at you before twisting in his seat to pull out some books from his bag. “Well, we’ll see once we get exam scores back.” You sigh.

“Oh, really? You wanna make a bet?” Farleigh questions in an oddly flirtatious tone. “Mhm,” Once you realize he’s staring at you, you feel a tingle shoot down your spine as you slowly turn to meet his eyes. His gaze is hot and heavy and it almost melts you on the spot. You inhale a shaky, quiet breath.

“What will you give me if I make a better grade than you?” He asks, his voice lower and seemingly quieter than before. An unfamiliar warmth spreads throughout you while an unwelcome swarm of butterflies makes their home in your stomach.

You cough loudly into your arm to interrupt the moment, mainly because you’re scared of how you would respond to such a flirtatious question. You don’t trust your mouth right now. Farleigh just laughs and returns to his textbooks, flipping through them.

Why does he say stuff like that? It only gets your hopes up that he might return your feelings. Which, of course, he never will. Why did you get cursed with this obsession? Well, you wouldn’t call it an obsession. Just a… crush. No, that sounds too childish. You just like him.

You spend the next two hours studying with Farleigh. You write each other calculus problems for the other to solve, or you quiz each other on vocabulary for English, or dates for medieval history. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re having fun. It’s almost as if time speeds up while you’re in his presence. However, your eyes are burning and you’re struggling to keep them open.

“Are you okay?” Your eyes snap open at Farleigh’s words. You had begun to drift off into slumber, slumped over in your chair. You sit up efficiently and nod. “Yeah.. sorry.” You let out a long sigh and attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes with your fingers.

“You probably need to get some sleep,” He suggests, his voice soft as silk. Your eyelashes flutter as you fight to stay awake. “I’m okay, really.” Your last word is interrupted with a big yawn. You cover your mouth with embarrassment as he lets out a snort.

“It’s midnight. You need to get to bed.” He tells you more sternly this time. “Well what about you?” You question.

“Don’t worry about me.” He shakes his head and reaches his hand out, placing it on your shoulder. “I guess I’ve studied enough,” You yawn again and close your eyes. Just for a moment, if only to rest them. You think.

About ten minutes later you awake to the sound of Farleigh’s voice again. “Do I need to take you to your dorm myself?” Your gaze slides over to him as he packs up his things. You let out a sleepy hum of disagreement. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. C’mon.” He stands up and pats you on the back.

You groan and grip the side of the table to support you as you stand up. You just stand there and watch as he packs up your own things, depositing them into your bag. “Can you carry it?” He asks, his eyes full of concern. You nod. “Alright. Let’s go,”

You both walk back to the dorms, with your occasional stumble, along with his occasional hand on your shoulder. You walk up the stairs, sleepiness weakening your legs. You eventually make it to your door and glance up towards Farleigh while blinking rapidly to make sure you’re not dreaming.

“I don’t think I studied enough–”

He holds up a hand to silence you.

“No. We studied more than enough. Sleep is what you need right now. Our English exam is at nine tomorrow morning. Or, today, actually.”

You’ve never seen him act with such kindness and care. Why is he doing all of this for you? And why is he being so nice? It’s suspicious, you think. But you push the thought aside as you unlock your room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smile in an attempt to convey your gratefulness. You’re a little too prideful to say thank you right now. “Goodnight.” He pauses for a moment, just like he did the first time you were at his dorm, like he wants to say or do something else. You stare into his dark eyes, willing him to do something. Suddenly, you don’t feel so sleepy.

But he just turns and walks away, probably back to his own dorm. Damn it! You feel stupid for being so hopeful. You step into your room and close the door angrily. He’s never going to admit anything, even if he also has feelings for you. Which you extremely doubt. And you’re never going to admit it either.

By the end of the week, you’re more exhausted than ever, but very relieved. Exams went smoother than you expected, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of a table waiting to get all of your results.

“Last name?” The random teacher whom you’ve never had asks, glancing up at you. You tell her your last name, and she fishes through a folder divided alphabetically by last name.

“Ah. Here you are.” She pulls out a packet and inspects it first before handing it to you. Your hands suddenly feel clammy compared to the smooth surface of the paper. Your heart pounds.

“Thank you,” You smile gratefully before turning around and quickly walking to the nearest bench to sit down and flip through the pages. A wave of relief crashes over you as you see your near perfect grades. Your lowest was a 96% on calculus, which you consider a pretty amazing achievement. You sigh with relief and close your eyes, leaning against the wall. You finished the fall term well.

You shove the packet into your backpack and put on your big coat and your beanie, preparing to venture out into the cold to pack up the last of your things to head home. Last night a huge snowstorm passed through London, so you delightfully woke up this morning to what looked like powdered sugar dusted upon the roof outside your window. It felt almost like the universe’s way of wishing you good luck on everything.

You walk outside on the cleared path with shoveled piles of snow hugging the sides. Breathing in the crisp yet calm air, you look around and take in your surroundings. The bustling groups of fellow students chatting excitedly about their scores, red cardinals hopping from tree to tree, snowflakes peacefully falling from the sky and joining the glittering snow upon the ground.

Suddenly, you hear your name being called from a distance, and then footsteps. You turn around to see Farleigh jogging toward you.

“Farleigh!” Unfortunately, you cannot hide your adoration whenever you see him and your content smile breaks into a foolish grin.

“So? How’d you do?” He asks with excitement. Oh, how the tables have turned. Usually he would start by bragging about his own results, and now he starts by asking you about yours. You quite enjoy how this friendship has grown.

“I did really good. My lowest was a 96!” You tell him. He beams, and then his eyes narrow. “On – let me guess – calculus?” He asks with suspicion. “Shut up!” You exclaim, punching him rather hard before turning serious. “Yes.”

He snickers and rubs his arm. “You pack a good punch,” He smiles, and you swear you can even see it in his chocolate brown eyes. You’re going to miss him over the holiday.

“So, what about you?” You ask while he falls into step next to you as you continue your walk. “Lowest was a 97. On history.” He cringes and you allow a satisfied smirk to break through.

“History?!” You giggle. “Shut up. My strengths are science and math, obviously.” He rolls his eyes. You’re beginning to love his sarcastic eyerolls. But then again, you think you always have.

“Hm. I thought you didn’t have any weaknesses. Academically, I mean.” You nudge him.

Farleigh shrugs. “Well, I wouldn’t call them weaknesses. I’m just better at some subjects.”

Without warning, he takes your hand and pulls you off the sidewalk and onto the snow. A squeal escapes you as he lets go, and then you look up to see him reaching down to pick up some snow. After he gathers a sufficient amount, he starts to pack it into a sphere. Oh no.

“Farleigh, no! Wait!” You scream, but it’s not really a terrified scream, more like a giggly one. But it’s too late. The snowball hurdles toward you and eventually crumbles once it meets your coat. An uncontrollable fit of giggles comes over you as you crouch down, packing snow into your hands.

You launch the snowball at him and he gasps with betrayal. “How dare you!” He shouts playfully. You’re so weak with laughter that you fall down into the snow. You look up to see a few other people joining in, throwing snowballs and running around. You can’t remember a time in the last few months when you have been happier.

Eventually, Farleigh sits next to you on the ground. You look up to see bits of snow adorably sprinkled throughout his hair. Something gives you the nerve to lean your head on his shoulder. He stiffens, only slightly, before relaxing and letting out a short sigh.

“Farleigh Start, I think I’m going to miss you,” You admit sheepishly. You can feel him turn his head a bit towards you, his breath grazing your hair.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s only three weeks.” You recognize the tease in his voice. “But I tend to have that effect on people.” You can also hear the grin in his voice. You smile and make patterns in the snow as you both sit in comfortable silence.

[wolffwish]

More Than Just A Short Time

Warnings: Distressed reader, miscarriage, mentions of anxiety, panic attack, soft!Toto x reader,

A/N: Personal experience used here, so please be understanding. 2022 was the worst year of my life, losing a baby and my fiancé within 3 months of eachother. I’ve been wanting to write something for months, to try and help me cope with my emotions. This hasn’t been spell checked, I literally have finished it and pressed post. So please bear with me if there’s any mistakes or it’s not that great, or sonically cohesive. It’s literally a coping mechanism. I’ve also tried to incorporate Taylor Swift’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky” as that song has bought me a lot of comfort. Thank you so much for reading and I hope soft Toto brings you comfort if you need it ♥️ my inbox is open to anyone if you need to talk about anything.

It’s been a long 5 days without Toto, and your physical health was declining by the hour. Your period was the heaviest it had ever been, but you didn’t want to tell Toto, because everyone has periods and usually, they’re nothing to worry about.

Toto knew you were struggling physically, and had been the ever-supporting husband that you could’ve dreamed of. Virtually working instead of heading into the office, skipping races and rescheduling meetings or holding them online— to the point where he’d be sitting on the bed with his laptop perched on his lap on Zoom with people at Brackley, with you sleeping next to him and him not taking his hand off of your head once, constantly stroking it to ease your pain.

He was away in Bahrain for first race of the season and it was the longest amount of time he’d been for a few months. You hadn’t been feeling that great in the lead up to him leaving, a bit run down and not your usual self, extremely tired and incredibly nauseous. You just assumed it was your birth control playing up again.

It was Sunday. Race day. You were feeling rough, and after yesterday’s ordeal in the ER followed by a strict instruction for bed rest and preferably someone with you, all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch, watch the race and wait for your man to come home.

You hadn’t been contacting him much over the past 4 days, mainly just good morning and good night texts, as you knew he was going to be flat out busy with media, meetings and all the other stuff that goes with the job he’d worked so hard for.

11am. You heard your phone ping, with his specific text tone and notification lighting up your screen.

💬 1 New Message: Toto🐺♥️ — Liebling, I have a free half hour. Can you talk? We need to talk.

“We need to talk”? You read it three times, making sure you were reading it right. Need? Panic sets in. Usually, when anybody receives a message of “We need to talk.”, ending abruptly with a full stop, that’s never a good sign, right? Right.

Before you could even start typing, he was ringing. Accidentally, you pressed the green answer button, steadily putting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” - your voice broke as you awaited his response.

🐺 “Schatzi? Is that you?”

“What do you mean, is it me? You rang my mobile?”

🐺 “Oh. Thank god. I had a missed call from the hospital, they left a message asking me how you were after yesterday. I didn’t— what happened yesterday, I didn’t know you wen—“

“Oh my god, are you kidding?! They rang you?”

Anger that started in your stomach was slowly making its way up your body, flushing your red cheeks and making your hands grip the phone tighter. You were checked into the ER yesterday after having what you thought was a 3 day long, heavy and extremely painful period. You had to call the ambulance because you were bleeding so heavily you couldn’t control anything, and started to feel dizzy and weak. With nobody around, and Toto working, you had nobody to call.

🐺 “Come on baby, talk to me. Why did you visit the ER?”

You paused. You didn’t know what to say to him, but neither did you want to lie. You knew as soon as the ER nurse asked if you’d had any morning sickness or previous experiences of dark red heavy periods that this wasn’t just a period. You were having a miscarriage, not even knowing you were pregnant.

🐺 “Liebling? Whatever it is, you can tell me. It doesn’t matter that I’m here, ok? You are my priority, just let me in.”

“I can’t tell you over the phone, Toto. I’m sorry. Just concentrate on the race, and I’ll see you later. I love y—“

🐺 “No Schatzi, baby please, I can’t concentrate unless you tell me what’s going on.”

You knew that he wasn’t going to give in. Tears started filling your eyes and the pit of your stomach started knotting. Emotions got the better of you, your breathing started to get shorter and faster, even though you were trying to disguise every bit of it, so you didn’t make him panic even more. But you just couldn’t do it. You fell apart. You needed him, now more than ever.

“I’m sorry, Toto. I didn’t know. You know I’m on birth control, it was just a heavy period, and then the nurses started asking all these questions about morning sickness and the colour of it and they rigged me up to the machine and started doing all these scans and I was really scared and I didn’t know what to do and then they kept apologising to me and I was in such a state I didn’t know what they were talking about until they— until they said it wasn’t a heavy period, and I’d lost—“

That was it. Uncontrollable tears streamed from your eyes as you relived the worst day of your life all over again, for the millionth time. Hysteria creeping in and your adrenaline winning, you began to shake. You’d been reliving every second of it since you got home, and it took a lot of persuasion for you to the nurses to let you home on your own. But they all knew your situation, they all knew Toto and who he was, so they made an exception. You didn’t think they’d call him.

🐺 “Oh my go—, baby, I’m so sorry. Shit. I should’ve been there, I knew you weren’t right when I left, but I had no idea it could be this—“

“Don’t apologise Toto please, it’s not your fault, I just, I can’t wait to see you later. Please try and just do the race and I’ll be here when you get home.”

🐺 “I don’t care about the race Schatz, baby. I’m coming home now. I’m walking to Rosa right now, she’ll get me on the next flight darling. Hold tight for me, ok?”

You didn’t want to ruin his day like this, especially the first race, but you were done fighting with yourself.

“Ok.” - through tears streaming and sniffles of your nose to try and control your breathing, a simple ‘ok’ was the last thing you said to Toto before dropping the phone on the bed. You’d almost been in denial about the whole thing, and saying it all out loud made it more real. You pulled your legs to your chest, your body still screaming in pain from miscarrying, back pains so intense you feel like your spine is on fire and a headache strong enough to make you squint at any view of light.

You could hear the television in the background, the race build up had started and you began watching it hoping it would distract you from everything that was happening in your head at that very moment.

The grid walk started, and Martin Brundle was desperately searching around for Toto to ask him where he thinks the two Mercs’ we’re going to finish today’s race. He eventually came across Shov, who was ready for an interview.

MB: “I was hoping to talk to your boss, any idea where I can find him?”

AS: “He’s had to rush off, personal matter, so won’t be able to watch the race today, but I can answer any questions you may have - just not with as much Austrian flare as he does!” he tried to laugh and distract from the situation- but you knew social media was about to blow up.

A few hours passed, and the sheer emotional state you were in made you fall asleep at some point during the race. You woke up as the podium ceremony started, that damn Dutch national anthem again. You flicked over the channels and started watching some random nature show about birds. Anything but that damn podium.

Anxiously waiting for Toto to arrive, you kept drifting off to sleep, losing track of the time, until you heard a key in the door and footsteps running up the stairs.

“Schatzi, where are you baby? I’m ho—“

The bedroom door swung open and there he was, still dressed in his white button down shirt and black trousers, so damn handsome. Your man was home.

“Toto, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears streaming, you sat up on the bed, trying to adjust your body to a position you weren’t in pain.

“Baby, it’s okay. Come here, little one.” Toto softly sat down in front of you, cupping your face in both hands and softly brushing the tears on your cheeks away with the pad of his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He brought his lips up to your forehead, pressing the most gentle kiss just above your left eyebrow, muffling the words “Let go baby, I’m here now. Just let it all out.”

The reassuring words from Toto meant every single emotion waved over you like a tsunami, and you fell apart in his arms. The tears came streaming down your face as you leant forward into him. You adjusted your body so you were sitting side aways on his lap, legs resting on the bed and head resting in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you like he was protecting the world, his gentle touches making you feel safer than you’d ever felt.

“Let’s get you into bed properly, baby, get you more comfortable.” Without hesitation, Toto stood up with you in his arms as he gently walked around the bed, making sure not to walk into any furniture or make any sudden movements. He slowly leant down, to lay you on his side of the bed. He grabbed a blanket, took his shirt and trousers off, walked round to the other side of the bed and got in with you.

“Are you comfortable? Do you need to move?” He asked as you started rolling over as he got into the bed beside you.

“I can’t get comfy, it’s so frustrating, everything hurts and I can’t move without feeling like I’m making a mess everywhere, it’s horrible.”

“Hey hey baby, it’s okay, don’t cry. It doesn’t matter if there’s mess, we can clean it up, okay? Come here, lay here.” He perched himself up on the headboard, his bare chest gleaming in the night light that was the only light on in the room. The smell of him just felt like home. Lightly tapping his torso, he helped you lay your head on his chest, right on his heart. You moved your arm over his toned tummy, slightly tapping your fingers over the grooves of his muscles.

“There we go baby, you just lay there and relax now. It’s okay, I’ve got you my girl.”

A few minutes of silence passed as Toto gently run his fingers through your hair, up and down your back and over your shoulder.

“Toto?”

“Yes, baby? What is it?”

“We’re never gonna meet her.”

You didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy, but your initial thought was it was a girl. You don’t know why. It’d been playing on your mind all day whenever you caught yourself thinking about what would’ve been, what could’ve been and what should’ve been.

A deep breath came from the pits of his stomach as he saw your heart break in front of him.

“I know darling, I know. But look…” he pointed out towards the night sky, a sky full of stars. A sky so beautiful, that you would’ve thought you’d made it up.

“She’s up there. She knows you’re looking at her. Hey, she’s that really bright one, look” he points to a specific star, that is, quite literally, the brightest one in the sky. “She’s bigger than the whole sky, isn’t she?” he looks down at you, as you’d cocked your head to see the star he was talking about. Making eye contact, one side of his mouth turned into a slight smile, as he leant down to kiss you on the lips. “I love you, little one.”

You kissed him back, finally feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders now he was home.

“I love you too, Papi.”

He smiled down at you again, bringing his hand up to the side of your face and gently guiding your head to lay on his chest. You heard him snuffle, and felt a teardrop on hairline where your hair meets your forehead.

“Toto?” You looked up at him, tears in his eyes as he looked out of the window.

He responded immediately. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay, I’m just so sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for not telling you when it happened. I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and—“

“Baby listen to me. You are my world, ok? Nothing is more important than you. I would sail the seven oceans to be with you in a heartbeat. Don’t ever think anything is more important than you, Schatz. I love you so much it hurts.”

He looked down at you again, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair. “You can rest now, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

You closed your eyes and felt your entire body relax into the indentation of his body, and sunk into the bed with him. The soft strokes of his hands over your arms, hair and back brought you more comfort than you’d ever felt before, and the sound of his slow controlled breathing meant your breathing started syncing with his. You both drifted off to sleep, holding each other close. His arms wrapped around you, you laying on his chest.

This was home. He was home. He is your home.

——

[mitraoki]

Hii, can I request headcanons on the JJK men’s sleeping habits + positions, including Suguru Geto pls? Thank youu

their sleeping positions/habits. (jjk hcs!)

note; omg anon hiiiii! thank you for requesting!!🤍🥺 this is certainly new for me to write, so i hope i did a good job with it!

come on in requests are open! <33 you can always refer to who i write for in my rules :3

i also referred to this link! wanted to give you the best experience <3

masterlist.

gojo satoru

+ would like to properly start these hc's with letting everyone know that gojo is a heavy sleeper. shake him as much as you'd like, bang pots and pans, set hundreds of alarm clocks around him and it would seem like he's not even physically there - he's probably living in his dream at this point. built himself a house and is sleeping there.

+ he claims that the strongest jujutsu sorcerer does not require much rest because he's always out and about, completing missions under his care. but we all know how much fatigue that can cost. one thing you should take note of gojo is how much he's in denial when it comes to taking care of himself. he will continue to tell you he's okay but we all know he's not.... so tell me why is he sleeping like a baby now, hm?

+ just shove gojo onto the bed, that's more than enough for him. that is why he doesn't want to admit he needs sleep - he KNOWS for a fact that if he finds a place to rest, he wouldn't be able to get up anymore, unless he's all recharged for a new day. a bonus for him is that now that you two were sharing a bed, he gets to have you in his arms, too. this means that he needs you in the bed with him at the exact moment as he is; if not he'd already be fast asleep and he'd miss a chance to hold you😭😭😭

+ he adores having you in his arms. this also means that he enjoys being big spoon so much (you're also his bolster). he does know that holding you tight wouldn't give you the best sleeping experience, so he ensures that his grip is loose enough for you to breathe <3 it's genuinely a miracle with how stable this man is when it comes to sleeping, because he can stay in the same. position. the whole. night. 

+ the only time the position actually changes is when he's having nightmares and startles both of you awake. i've mentioned this a number of times before but gojo does not mind being vulnerable in front of you. you might see him sweating, hyperventilating, shedding a tear or two; but he's not going to be running away from you. he needs you to understand the person you're with. when he eventually calms down and gets a glimpse of you, he kisses you, whispering a thank you before laying back down, drifting off to sleep once again.

+ gojo has a good night routine. it's simple, doesn't require a lot of work. he does offer you some advice, and is also not afraid to seek some help from you if he does feel like he's missing out. i feel like the products he uses are super high end ones (no but think about how much he invests in them... his glossy lips say it all), and absolutely does not mind getting you the best ones too :>

geto suguru

+ okay so geto's 100% a light sleeper. i feel like he's the kind where he would lowkey worry about something potentially happening to him or you, or maybe some kind of issue will pop up. so he definitely adapted to waking up the moment he hears noise. of course, when it's nothing to be worried of, he gets all grumpy and has this face >:( on until he falls asleep again.

+ i hc his sleep schedule to be quite admirable :0 geto makes sure he gets the right amount of sleep. not the kind where he has set a specific time to head to bed, but rather how long he must sleep in order to actually be able to function the next day. not one hour must he leave behind because if he does, it's over. geto is now having one of his worst days yet :( but don't blame him, he's so accustomed to it and he doesn't think he can ever overcome it either🥹 poor geto is worried he might unconsciously hurt your feelings due to his bad mood; so when he's quiet, try comforting him, make him his favorite drink, maybe hum a tune or two - he would love a relaxing day <3

+ geto talks to you a lot about his dreams. he doesn't really have a dream journal to write them on (he prefers not to), but he can surprisingly remember whatever he'd dreamt of, and tell them to you. sometimes he researches what his dreams mean too, to see if they have good or bad omen. he looks like a puppy when he's conveying his thoughts about them. if he had a tail you would probably notice it waggling a LOT. 

+ now geto loves holding you. whenever he has the opportunity, he holds you. he keeps you in his embrace, never lets go. something about the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces makes him so happy. no doubt that he's gonna have a cuddle session before you two doze off hehe :> he tells you about his day, you tell him about yours, and the conversation goes on an on until you two end up falling asleep, completely intertwined with one another. he finds it extremely cozy being able to do this with you every night. it's some form of security for him, and a promise to keep you close no matter what. 

+ he does move a lot though, so you two might end up in completely different positions when you wake up OOPS😭i can see the confused look on both your faces when you see geto upside down and you holding his legs AUGHHH SO CUTEEE

nanami kento

+ oh wow.... our beloved nanami..... my fingers are itching to type this NOW

+ unlike geto, i think this man just forgets about his dreams. whenever you describe yours he's just gonna sit back in his chair, contemplating for so long about what he just dreamt. surely he has to remember something.... was it bad that he didn't...? all he can remember is seeing little dots of green or yellow light illuminating before he goes into a deep sleep.... he's trying okay😭

+ nanami has the BEST sleep schedule out of all the men i've written here. i feel like he hasn't gone through any struggle, neither has it physically bothered him if he had to stay up a little later than usual but everybody deserves good sleep, and he values it a lot. though sometimes you can hear him grumble a little if anything requires him to stay up the entire night. he wants you to have a good sleeping habits too, so it's just him constantly reminding you to take good care of yourself before 'i have to take matters into my own hands' (i personally do NOT mind that. it's nanami we're talking about-)

+ with that said, nanami cannot go to sleep unless you fall asleep first. he's always so worried if you cannot get some shut eye just for the night - his heart aches if he ever learns from you about your struggles with sleep. he's worried you might have nightmares and would continue thinking about it till the sun rises. it's unfair that his dearly beloved would have to go through something without his knowledge. 

+ 'please, 'nami. sleep. i'll be fine', and he immediately replies with a 'no. i'm okay. i enjoy this.' and he really does. he enjoys the faint sounds he gets to hear out the window, the moonlight being your shared room's only light source. the feeling of you nuzzling into his chest further as his arm over your shoulder and behind your back positions itself. you using him as your bolster this time, with your knee in between his legs. him slowly caressing your hand with his fingers, which works like a charm, as he could feel your breaths gradually relaxing on his chest. your eyelids finally win, letting you drift off to dream world. once he's sure that you are fast asleep, he plants a kiss on your forehead. his chest finally matching the rise and fall of yours, dozing off as well. 

+ i mean COME ONNNN of course he's holding you in a sweetheart cradle style!!!!!! nanami sleeps like a log as well, so that means he will not move around as much till he wakes up. he finds it super worth it to have you in his arms. i GUARANTEE YOU if he does have afternoon naps (which i think he has if he had to work overtime), he's going to hold you the same way he always has. if you ever have to get up and start your day, groggy (but too stunning to handle) nanami would pull you back, claiming that he's only going to need you for five more (which turned to ten, then fifteen) minutes.

+ 'i hope you slept well, my love,' he half-whispers with his morning voice so smooth, you just wished there was a way to kiss it. but all you could do was just melt in his touch, praying that this moment could last for as long as you could.

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.

[unsaidthingsj2e]

that one good cologne, that you bought when we were fighting

Summary : Memories of the night Jude broke up with you are flooding back as you smell his perfume in the bus.

a/n : once again, ignore any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language,

this is inspired by memories by conan gray (<3) and most specifically by the lyrics i put as the title of this fic!!

this is just angst but also i don't know if anything i ever write has any value so don't get your hopes too high, tho i would love to know what you thought ab it!! love ya

It annoyed you, how memory worked. How the sight of a picture, the sound of a melody, the taste of a pastry, the texture of a shirt, the smell of the air would make you remember stuff you tried so hard to bury deep inside your mind.

You hated how it would hit you at the most random moments, taking you by surprise and sending you into memory lane without your consent.

Because you just entered the bus, eager to finally go home after a long day at uni. You had to run in order to catch the bus and not wait for another 10 minutes in the rain. For once, you spotted a free seat that would relieve your back of the heavy weight of your backpack, the bus ride would, for once, not be living hell.

Quickly making your way to the back of the bus where you saw the seat, you sat and sighed, letting the stress dissolve. After taking quick breaths in order to allow oxygen to course through your veins again, it hit you.

You found yourself physically unable to move as the smell of the air hit you. Your brain only took seconds to catch up, pairing the smell of the cologne the guy behind you wore with what you still describe as the worst period of your life.

Too vividly for your own liking, the scene seemed to play in front of you.

You usually weren't the confrontational type, always preferring hiding your feelings deep inside you, convincing yourself you overreacted when something seemed off.

This is something your boyfriend, Jude, made sure to change throughout your relationship. He made sure you knew he would not react like your parents and past partners always did when you brought up an issue.

You loved him, and this part of him, that was making sure you felt safe, was your favorite. He clearly cared for your bond and wanted you to be able to express whatever was on your mind.

Him reassuring you did not make the process less stressful, as you usually fell back into old patterns, but after a year of dating him, you were beginning to get more comfortable at the idea of openly communicating your feelings.

That's how it started.

"Jude? Can I talk to you please?" you said before you could chicken out of this

"Hi love, I didn't know you came home already" he left his spot in front of the TV to come greet you with a kiss, "sure, what's on your mind?"

This display of attention, that became so rare lately, made you pause, wondering if you were indeed making it all up. But when you made eye contact with the boy, you could still see all the space between you two, that wasn't there before.

"Can we go back on the couch maybe? I'd like to be sitting to discuss this" you tried to create an environment that would lessen the pressure on yourself, not trusting your knees not to break right here and there.

You used to be so sure Jude would be your lifeline, having been friends for so long before dating, and now, knowing how good he could treat you as his girlfriend, you could not help but be confused at what he was becoming.

His eyes grew cold and distant, the time he dedicated to you kept on reducing, the affection behind his nicknames seemingly gone. You wondered if you did something to activate this slow and agonizing descent into your personnal hell; a life without him.

You could see worry creeping up in his eyes, vector of so many emotions, or lack of thereof, he could never hide, "Whatever you'd like, is something wrong?" Jude asked.

"Maybe? I don't really know if i'm making all of this up but you're the one that always insisted I don't let myself spiral with my thoughts right?"

"Yeah, always love, I want you to be comfortable around me"

"Okay, uhm, I couldn't help but notice you slowly slipping away? It's just that you're not around as much, you don't seem to long for the physical touch you usually crave from me and, I feel like you don't even care about me anymore, like you've seen all that was to see and you've just grown bored"  you spit out in a single breath, worrying you could change your mind if you didn't say it fast enough.

It's the way the worry in his eyes shifted to a shade closer to annoyance that was the exact reason why you hated doing this, "Hey, I don't know where you think you saw that, but I still love you as much as I did yesterday and all the days before, none of what you said reflects what I'm feeling for you" his honey slicked voice tried to reassure you, but it just didn't seem enough this time.

Engulfing you in a hug to shut down any answer or further explanation you may have had, Jude started kissing your face everywhere he could, "My pretty girl spends her time worrying when she's the only one I see"

You let it slide only because coming up with this took all your energy and you still were unsure whether or not you made everything up,

but the next month just further proved your points

You did try again, multiple times, to bring it up. When you did, he would shut you up with physical attention, hugs that smelled of a new, foreign cologne he bought, and pretty words. Other times, he would straight up avoid the topic. The drastic change in his behavior concerning conversations came with a return of every insecurities he once erased, you stopped trying and just let it eat you from the insides.

A month ago, you had tried to surprise jude by going to his place before he could arrive, and prepare a romantic evening that would serve to cover up your broken relationship. Cooking his favorite meal, baking the desert that he could not get enough of and putting on your guys' favorite playlist, you were happy with your work.

While you were finishing cooking the main dish, your phone vibrated, indicating a new text from your man

"we should talk, come by my place in an hour?"

Not knowing what it could mean nor if you were supposed to reveal your surprise, you did not answer.

10 minutes later, Jude entered his appartement, not expecting to see you here already. You could tell he was about to ask why you showed up so early when he told you to come in an hour before he noticed the music, the smell, the state of the dining table.

"Hi, we should probably talk before doing all of this" he said while gesturing to all the stuff you prepared. the lack of kisses and "thank you"'s were not unusual but still stung as if it was the first time.

"Yeah, sure, what do you wanna talk about?"

"I'll go straight to the point to make it fair to you, because I haven't been. I met a new girl."

Time stopped

"I'm sorry that you were right about all these things you used to hold myself accountable for, but I found myself falling for her and it had to come with putting space between us. I wish things were different but I have to break up with you in order to make things fair for both of us, we just aren't made for each other and it's time we accept it"  he said, still filled with confidence and when you dared to look in his eyes, shades of honesty and the lack of empathy or sadness felt like just another knife being thrown into your back.

He was so convinced he was being the good guy, coming clean and acting as if the relationship was a burden to both of you. You wondered how long he has been feeling like that, what triggered the need to be fair now, when he hasn't been for at least a few months, if he said your accusations were correct.

You felt dizzy, confused, hurt, but neither tears nor words were coming out. You could only bet your face was one of stone, with pain all over it written in capital letter with glittery paint. All you knew was that you had to leave, so you did.

Jude had anticipated the shutting down part, knowing you well enough to know this many emotions and facts to process would send you into overdrive, so he did the talking, "As much as I appreciate you and I always did, I doubt a friendship between us would work again. It would, this time, not be fair to my girlfriend, I'm sure you can understand."

The word girlfriend being used for someone that wasn't you made an unexpected sob rip through your chest. You had an hard time believing the man in front of you was the man that used to be your best friend and lover. Such hard words used carelessly, no matter what you felt was so unusual for him.

That cologne, so foreign, caused an headache. Or maybe it was the wave of intense emotions, the contained tears and the broken promises. You made your way to the door, opening it and freezing.

You considered saying a snarky comment about dinner, attacking him about the trust you had put in him, asking about this new girl, but you just couldn't.

You'd look for closure later, when your mind was not foggy and threatening to shut down as well, but for now it's you leaving the double of the keys he gave you behind. More than a key, it was ornamented with keychains from places you had visited together, mostly places where he played with his team. And the key of the heart shaped locker you two had put on the infamous love lock bridge in paris, when he would insist you keep it instead of throwing it in the water, because you would always be the key to his heart.

All hope of a peaceful bus drive was gone, as you still found yourself glued to your seat, paralyzed by the scent of the cologne.

It caused you the same headache it had back then, accompanied by the tears you had held back when last confronted to this smell.

part 2 right here <3

[cinnbar-bun]

Important Message

So... haha... been almost a month since I really did anything on this blog...

Listen, I'm gonna keep it straight to you guys, the months leading up to my hiatus were, to put it mildly, some of the most disgusting I've seen in my years as a fanfic writer and fandom enjoyer. This is a bit of a vent post, because, well, genuinely, I really hope the fandom can get better. I'm assuming most of the bad experiences I've had came through people a bit younger/newer to fandom or tumblr/fanfic culture in general. If you want just an update on the blog, I will be posting that shortly after this one.

I'm going to list out some of the shit I had to go through (that I am sure many fanfic writers, but more specifically, POC fandom creators go through). This is a long post. Yeah, also, this is obvious but TW FOR: Racism (including slurs), Islamaphobia, sexism, death threats, suicide threats, harassment, and just flat out horrible behavior.

I'm gonna go list some of the slurs I've been messaged or called, I'll even rate them for you guys <3:

Camel jockey: oooo, haven't heard that one before. get more creative, 3/10

camel fucker: nice, bit more crass, still not original. 3.5/10, just a bit funny

Terrorist: wow, dude, oh my gosh, I can't believe I've never heard that one living in post 9/11 America! Wow! 0/10 try harder

I also don't know where the assumption came from that I was a hijabi... I am not. Calling me a BMO? Pretty unique but sadly does not fit me. :(/10

This barely scratches the surface of what I have dealt with after having been open about my heritage. I'm sorry my very existence offends you and requires you to come out and send me shit about hoping my family dies or that my favorite character brutally hurts me. I have read your messages, and after long consideration, I have decided to no longer be Middle Eastern. Yep, that's right, guys, I am no longer MENA! Don't worry about my family history or anything, I just choose not to be that anymore. There, now you don't have to send me messages about hoping my family gets killed <3

Let's see what else we should tackle.

Should I tackle the fact that I've gotten messages from others to update a fic or answer a request or they will try to self harm or commit suicide?

Should I tackle the fact that some have tried to pressure or guess my sexuality (dude, what the fuck)?

Should I tackle how I got messages from others assuming my place because of my religion?

Should I tackle how I've gotten weird ass messages from people getting mad at me because how DARE I not write certain things during Ramadan?

Should I tackle those things?

I'll save you the hassle, no, I really shouldn't have had to, but fact is, the One Piece fandom has to be some of the worst I've seen and interacted with purposefully in a long time. And I was in the Hetalia fandom way back when. I should not have dumb shit about "liberating" me or oh, oh, oh, I love this one! People asking me if I have 'full armament haki' (I hope you genuinely, genuinely, get the fuck off your phone and go outside. Maybe have a walk and go talk to actual people.)

I've met some genuinely lovely, beautiful, and kind people. They truly are some of the most talented creators I've seen, and I'm grateful they chose to befriend me. The good does outweigh the bad. But the bad? Oh lord, I think you guys are genuinely some of the most disgusting pieces of shits I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Fanfic writers are not your slaves. I have a full time job, I have a full time life outside of my tumblr and my writing. I write when I want to because I like to write, and fanfic is a good creative outlet. You sending dumb messages crying about no updates after four days of me posting a new chapter, or threatening to harm yourself because of this is disgusting.

POC creators, especially, are not your fucking tokens. I'm not here to break down every racial stereotype for you. I'm not here to be sitting there mocked with crap I already hear in my outside life. And I sure as HELL am not here for fake support only to be called slurs and mocked the minute I don't do something for you. You are gross, you are not funny, you are genuinely a horrible person and if your ideal vision of humor boils down to the Instagram comments section, all I'm saying is, I'm not wishing you anything positive.

If you read this far, thank you. Truly. This was difficult to place and write down, but it needed to be said, because even to this day I still get messages similar to before.

Do better, One Piece fandom. Do better. Because you are only going to lose the fans who really care and who put effort into making things. How far can you harass fanfic creators, and especially POC ones, with your bullshit before you lose out on things?

I don't need to 'move on'. My identity and my existence is on a completely separate wave than so and so idk, liking a ship or a character. One is fake, and one is literally who I am. Putting false equivalencies to the issues within fandom because it makes you 'sad' is shitty.

I've only given you an idea of what I had to deal with. Now imagine this constantly by random people, both on tumblr and AO3, and then imagine that also in your daily life, on the media, in the news, in the music, on the radio, in the books- fucking everywhere. It's exhausting.

Just... fucking do better. Actually fucking listen to POC. I got nothing else to add that wouldn't just be me repeating the same shit I and others have tried to say.

Just be kind, for gods sake, and remember that creators are human, not the silly avatars we choose.

[arlo-rose]

Guys I’ve been so busy this weekend but it’s finally my turn to make a long sappy fable thank you post :D

I’m not always the best with words, and I said a lot of this in the fan appreciation video already, but I wanted to put it all here too.

I first started watching fable smp in (I think)November of 2021, cause I found Sherbert and Heyhay through DSMP tiktok compilations on youtube, and saw they both streamed. Fable is the first time I’ve actually been part of a fandom community, and it’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me. My whole experience with the community has been so incredible, everyone is so kind and creative and excited about the story being told. I met people through fable who are now some of my best friends on earth, and even got to meet up with one of them irl! I never imagined an online friend group was something I could have but those people, and the wider fable community, helped get me through some of the worst times mentally that I’ve had in my life. 

Fable as a story is so incredible, I can’t even put into words all of the specific pieces that make it so amazing, but all of the characters, relationships, stories, side plots, and just silly hanging out in character streams are something I love so much. I’m having a hard time writing this rn cause I don’t want to leave out anything important but I don’t know how to say any of it.

One of the biggest things fable smp has done for me is giving me something to fuel my art. Before fable started, I was just starting to experiment with digital art, but had a ton of art block and no motivation to draw much anymore. Fable gave me a constant source of ideas for my art, and the responses I got when I posted my art(for the first time ever) helped so much in keeping that motivation. Having fans and cast members tell my how much they loved my art was incredible, and it eventually gave me the confidence to open up art commissions, which I had never thought was something I’d be able to do. My art was actually how I met my now friends, we started talking because we all loved eachother’s art, and it’s so wonderful to have a bunch of artist friends I can ask for advice, show wips, and just hang out on call while drawing with. Whenever I draw I almost always have a fable vod playing, there are so many comfort vods that no matter how long I draw for, I’ll never run out. 

I know other people have said this, but I want to say it for me too, just because fable is over doesn’t mean I’m gonna shut up about it :D. I have so many art ideas I haven’t done yet, and so many thoughts and feelings about this story that aren’t going away anytime soon. I’m gonna keep brainrotting about these characters for as long as my brain allows me to, and even after that I’ll look back on this story and community so so fondly. This is a story and fandom that I think I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life, and I thank you all for that.

There is a lot of other things I could say right now, but words are hard and I’ve had a very, very long weekend, so I’m gonna stop it here. I love fable smp so much, and I can’t wait to see what stories you all tell next <3

-arlo

[skinks]

SPOILERS FOR SALTBURN

I haven’t seen Promising Young Woman but I did just see Saltburn and now I’m so dubious about Fennell’s politics that I’m basically obligated to see PYW to confirm my suspicions. It’s not that I think she’s conservative necessarily, but more that she’s so upper class London nepo baby rich that she could aspire to socialist feminism as much as she likes but it’ll never land because her background precludes her from ever having anything relevant to say about class.

There were things I liked about Saltburn. The editing, performances, black humour, costumes, sets, cinematography (NOT the aspect ratio - will explain) and the ballsiness of certain “transgressive” scenes I did appreciate. This is what makes it so frustrating and disappointing as a film. If you turn your brain off, it’s a wild ride, quite hypnotic and lovely to look at in that specific dreamy way that the dark, cool interiors of a house get on the hottest days of the summer. I hated the 4:3 aspect ratio though, it was POINTLESS. Why was it used? Surely it would have made more sense to capture the grand expansiveness of the titular estate in widescreen? It just felt twee for twee’s sake, like it was shot to produce compositions ready-cropped for big gifs on tumblr.

The “shocking” “transgressive” “erotic” stuff is not particularly any of those things. I mean, for me anyway. It might titillate the type of new-puritan gen z-ers who self censor it to “seggs”, but there was only one sequence that felt really “wow, I haven’t seen that in movie before!” levels of Going There. And even then these scenes always felt self-consciously affected, like Fennell only included them because she wanted to write a movie with fReAkY stuff, as opposed to the freaky stuff coming organically from the characters. I remember sitting in the cinema to see Call Me By Your Name feeling like I was burning to a crisp at the scene where Elio huffs a pair of a man’s used swim trunks - because it felt so authentic to this expression of a character who is at critical levels of desperate teenage horniness. In Saltburn, when Oliver gets down on his knees and slurps Felix’s jizzy bath water, it’s like… okay? Why? What does he want? We saw him lie about knowledge of the fancy plates to ingratiate himself to the dad, we already have reason to distrust anything he says, so it’s hard to believe he has any authentic desire for Felix. And that’s the main problem with the whole movie - the writing is fairly atrocious.

There’s no mystery. There’s no ANYTHING. There’s a tiny quick-cut flash montage of future events in the movie right at the start of the thing, so already we’re going in with no doubts that Oliver is gonna go nuts. So we know that bad shit is gonna happen, and yet the movie pulls out a big Twist Ending reveal like we… weren’t supposed to know that he’s been bad from the beginning? We don’t need all these flashbacks to show us he’d planned his dastardly deeds offscreen the whole time when we’ve already seen him commit OTHER dastardly deeds ONSCREEN. He’s given zero motivation. He tells us he did what he did because he hates this rich family, starting with Jacob Elordi’s Felix, but he had planned the whole thing from before they ever even met, or saw how the family treats the other two main victims of class in the film, Pamela and Farleigh. When Oliver starts spinning his web, Felix has never been anything but genuinely kind to him. Felix never did him any personal wrong except being born handsome, popular, and rich.

That’s the other glaring issue. Fennell has said this is supposed be another one of these “eat the rich” satires, but…. beyond the usual foot-in-mouth clueless social blunders, the movie portrays none of the rich family as even all that bad. Oliver isn’t even all that poor! His family are revealed to be extremely comfortably upper-middle class! This is not Parasite!!! The worst ethical thing they do is cut off Farleigh from family money - but it’s obvious to the audience that this is actually Oliver’s fault. So all we’re left with is this main character who’s the worst of the lot, with no reason to do what he’s doing except for being an asocial loser creep. If you’re making a class satire in Britain and your message at the end of the film is “those creepy disgusting middle class will pervert and mutate themselves to have what the beautiful victimised rich people do” you’ve… uhh. Failed. Somewhere along the line.

It wants to be The Talented Mr Ripley, but it is confused and stupid. Given Fennell’s background and social circle, is it any wonder? It’s like she’s looked around at her fellow Eton Oxford lot and thought “so the poors hate us because we’re a bit silly and old fashioned, right? no wonder they’re jealous, we’re all so sexy and our houses are so nice! Of course they’d do anything to have this!” She hasn’t seemed to conceive of the fact that the working class in Britain hate the upper class because millions live in genuine poverty while they get to obstruct social change because of archaic birthright. That many people in Britain don’t actually want to be the upper class, they want an end to them.

The thing is, I had fun watching it. I laughed a lot, and then left the cinema distinctly unimpressed, as one often does after interacting with people who go to private school and are perfectly charming but clearly still think they’re better/smarter than you because they have generational land, or multiple houses. I worked for 6 years as the stable groom for the heiress to a publishing fortune, I’ve met plenty of these people, believe me. All this to say, that this is deeply frustrating because I would like to turn my brain off from the dodgy politics and just appreciate a movie that goes out of its way to be visually stylish and includes a scene where a sobbing Barry Keoghan gets naked and fucks the fresh grave of his boy best friend. Now that’s entertainment