#But that fic was so good I started bawling
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do you ever lay awake at night thinking about the irreversible psychological damage the “in another life” fic by LittleLuxray caused to your adolescent brain or is it just me
#i feel like this shit traumatized an entire generation of haikyuu fandom#i remember i legitimately started bawling my eyes out every time i heard katy perry’s the one that got away#and i got into genuine arguments with my older sister because she kept turning it on near me#to make fun of me#every time i remember it exists i’m terrified#that’s so how you know it’s good#haikyuu#bokuaka#haikyuu fic#THE haikyuu fic dare i say#in another life
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this fanfic.
#sefikura#sephiroth#cloud strife#advent children#fanfic#i revisit it every few months or so and AGGGGHHG#I LOVE IT SO MUCH#THANK YOU IMAGINATIVE SPIRIT WHOMEVER YOU MAY BE#The fucking angst. give me that shit#THE CHARACTER PORTRAYALS ARE SO GOOD DON'T TALK TK ME#if i could eat this fic i would#gonna inject this shit into my veins#gonna chug it like i haven't had anythjng to drink in 5 years#gonna breathe it in like it's my oxygen#my drug#AHHHHHGGGGG IT'S SO GOOD#starts bawling#i love them so much#they're perfect your honor#sefikura being the best ship in the universe sorry i don't make the rules#oh god oh fuck#my eyes are watering#my love for this fic#mwah mwah mwah mwahhhh it makes me so insane#i'm infatuated.
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have been seeing this going around so i decided to make my own!!
(just a disclaimer i havent rewatched some of the seasons in a while so i did this according to what i remember)
#ninjago#ninjago dragons rising#levi's ted talks#the most recent seasons ive rewatched r hunted and sog and theyre still as good and thrilling as when i first watched#a little of s1 too#i put it down there bc the writing was kinda weird BUT it was the starting point of ninjago so im never hating on it#plus the memorable moments like goddamn#i constantly rewatch s13 i love it too much#i cant bring myself to rewatch seabound bcaause knowing whats gonna happen next is so fucking PAINFUL 😭#even tho im an angst lover the fucking seperation makes me bawl#my friend literally couldnt talk to me for a few days bc of the shock from the ending when it first came out#and to be completely honest DR is what got me fully back into the ninjago fandom#like id reblog posts n whatever but wasnt so involved#and id just rant with my friend abt it#but then when DR's release was announced i made my first post for it#(a redraw for an incorrect quote post: dig in my art tag and youll maybe find it . but beware)#and now im here with so many moots#art improvement and 3 fics and more coming aswell#how the fuck
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so anyway, DC's Doom Patrol (2019) is a level of storytelling that simply feels so impossible, and coming from DC too, and YET
#As far as unbelievably philosophical and idealogy-packed media in the recent 5 years go#do not talk to me about feminism unless it's about Blue Eye Samurai and Doom Patrol#i mean. Doom Patrol is a truly marvelous creation#f u c k i n g unbelievable that it's a DC production. like the fucking titan-killer balls on Jeremy Carver for producing this thing#It's literally physically impossible to watch more than 2 episodes of this show per night. the level of philosophical commentary#and the unfathomable map of interconnected symbolism and narrative deconstruction in real time. I've resigned myself to not catching a good#50% of the show like it's just fucking impossible. i need at least 15 more rewatches#but also i think about Doom Patrol in relation to Gotham TV for more than 2.5 seconds and i start bawling like#Truly Gotham TV walked so Doom Patrol could win Olympic 100m sprint#it solid hurts to think about the level of storytelling Gotham TV would've had if it had gotten Jeremy Carver's writing room#and a hard R rating; noone would've survived Gotham TV and the lost potential of it is physically painful to think about#What i would've given for Jeremiah Valeska to have been a Doom Patrol writer's musing!!!!!!!#but anyway Doom Patrol is an insane insane story. Simply one of the most intelligent complex narratives#to have been portrayed on TV in the past 5 years. This series has A FUCKING LOT to say and it does not fucking stutter#And it's got the only female characters i want to hear about in TV shows; these are my girls my kind of women#Like 5 episodes in and i dont even treat this production as a TV show it's more like a movement manifesto#and it's so brutal so refreshing so tender and heartfelt and so real#literally a TV show that makes you glad to be its audience. holy fucks!!!#checked A03 and it has about 600 fics i think?? because of course it does#this thing is SO FUCKING PACKED and too intelligent for the average viewer lol i geniunely have no idea how is this show real#IN DC UNIVERSE!!!!!#and i'll forever weep about Gotham TV not getting Doom Patrol's writing team like JESUS THIS HURTS#so anyway i have immense love for Doom Patrol it's a part of my identity now#Doom patrol
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LET’S HAVE A SLEEPOVER!!
ask/share whatever you’d like!! something that’s happened to you lately (good or bad!), an ask for tips and tricks (advice if you want!), your new favourite anything! (recommendations too), a fic that’s left you feeling all typa ways, and anything else really!
#sleepover!#i’m missin all of ya 🥹#i can start!!!#hmmm my fave fic that ive recently read is still an observer of longing by shibaraki 🥹 its a hajime fic and just. had me bawling so terribly#its literally my dream fic i think. a bsf to lovers slowburn w hajime and seijoh4 WHAT MORE COULD I ASK FOR. written by monty too?! IM SOLD#i have a whooole stash of more fave fics tho 🥺🥺🥺#i recently started doing roma’s curling lashes before bed trick (with castor oil!) and it does make me feel so pretty 🥺 i love it#ive also been loving dune 2 ajzjjd i want to rewatch it again#smth good thats been happening to me is im gaining lots of momentum lifewise after a slow last yr#so 🥹🥹 things are looking exciting and hopefully i can set better goals this 2nd quarter!!
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This was exactly what i needed to start crying after an awful day ♡
The writing and imagery is so beautiful. It took me so long to get through this because i wanted to soak everything up. Genuinely blown away by the spectacular writing all while feeling absolutely devastated. 11/10 would recommend if you wanna go through it!
I have zero credentials but this is exquisite literature for me 💖
Letting Go
I’m burning up a sun, just to say Goodbye
Your heart feels heavy as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the soft glow of your phone screen. A cascade of memories flashes through your mind, each moment more bittersweet than the last, reminding you of the warmth of his laughter and the solace of his embrace. Mingyu, the galaxy of stardust you fell hopelessly in love with, stands at the center of your thoughts a vibrant star whose brilliance illuminated your once-ordinary life. But now, the distance widens with every tick of the clock, and you’re reminded too sharply of the space between you that only grows as his fame expands.
Mingyu is a name that echoes through arenas, an entity adored and sought after by countless fans whose devotion knows no bounds. And yet here, in the silence of your room, it feels as though he belongs only to you, wrapped in the intimate warmth of your shared moments. You replay the nights in your mind the hushed whispers in the dark, the gentle caress of his hand in yours, evenings spent entwined in each other’s arms where the world outside felt irrelevant, if only for a fleeting moment. But reality has a way of creeping in during those peaceful hours, casting shadows over the fragile sanctuary you’ve built.
You remember how he held you close, the way his eyes sparkled with joy when you talked about your dreams. He would listen intently, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he could hear the silent hope you held for both of you. But as the days turned into months and the months folded into a whirlwind of album launches and concert tours, the spark in his eyes began to wane, replacing joy with an all-consuming exhaustion. With each passing day, you prayed for the return of the boy who used to steal glances at you, the boy who would plan elaborate surprises just to see you smile. Yet, as his world expanded, so did the chasm that separated you.
It’s a cold evening when you find yourself sitting in a cozy café, the muted hum of laughter surrounding you like a comforting quilt. Your fingers grip the cup tightly, the warmth seeping into your skin. Across the table, Mingyu sits, his handsome face drawn, shadows dancing beneath his eyes signs of sleepless nights spent preparing, rehearsing, and performing for a world that adores him. You can almost hear the faint echo of his heartbeat beneath the surface, a reminder of the connection you still share, yet it feels so tenuous, like a thread threatening to unravel at the slightest tug. As he recounts the glories of his latest performance, your heart sinks under the weight of his words, realizing you have become a spectator in the spectacular show of his life.
You find yourself fighting back tears, envisioning the life he deserves one filled with applause, adoration, and happiness. How could you keep him anchored in a world that demands his every ounce of energy? You replay the thought, a vicious cycle, and as dawn arrives with a heavy heart, you know what you must do. In another world, perhaps this love could shine brighter, but in this reality, his star is meant to soar unhindered.
As you walk home, the city moves around you in a whirl of colors and noise, yet everything feels muted, as if the universe has momentarily detached itself from your reality. You can almost hear the cosmic clock ticking, a reminder that time is not on your side. The streets are alive, bustling with life, but inside, you’re crumbling an aching heart begging for solace in a world that refuses to stop for love.
That night, you craft a message a letter filled with words straight from your heart, each line dripped with sorrow and longing. “I am burning up a sun just to say goodbye,” you write, the phrase spilling into existence like an unbidden prayer. Each word feels like an ember, igniting memories of laughter and warmth, illuminating the darkness creeping into your heart. You express how much he means to you, how watching him flourish was your greatest joy, and yet, you can’t be the anchor weighing him down.
Mingyu deserves the world: the sparkling cities, the cheering fans, and the soothing whispers of love that accompany his rise to glory. The truth is brutal, an unwavering beam of light piercing through the haze of your emotions. You are destined to fade into the background, a fading echo in a symphony that no longer requires your note. This love, while beautiful, isn't enough to tether him to a life that entraps him, choking on commitments that pull him away from the very essence of what makes him happy.
That fateful night, you gather every ounce of courage you have left and send the letter. The weight of it leaves you breathless, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you. How does one say goodbye to a piece of their heart? Hours feel like lifetimes as you await his response, the anticipation mingling with despair. An insistent flutter in your chest reminds you of the void he’ll leave behind, a chasm far grander and emptier than you imagine.
As dawn breaks, the light filtering softly through your window, you receive a reply. His words are a gentle touch, filled with the love and fondness you both share, yet beneath them, you can sense the sinking weight of understanding. “You were my sunshine, and now I must learn to live without it,” he writes. And in those lines, you see the reflection of his soul, echoing your feelings both utterly lost and exceedingly grateful for the love you once shared.
Time moves ever onward, carriages of yesterday slip into the past, leaving impressions on your heart but insisting that you continue. Your sorrow is real, aching deeply in your chest as you tread forward into a world without him. Yet, you understand the bittersweet nature of love sometimes it means letting go, allowing someone to blaze their path, even if it leaves you in shadows. As you walk through the remnants of what once was, you hold onto his memory, cherished yet painful a beautiful tapestry of love now transformed into a melody of goodbye.
(Sorry i felt Angsty)
“Don’t cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won’t let you see the stars”
#i usually cant take angst but ive had a horrible day and crying it out while reading this was the perfect outlet#the writing is so good it made me start a “favorite fic lines” note on my phone and i wrote down like 5 or 6 quotes from here#maplegyu is inconsolable#maplegyu is in awe#maplegyu bawls#maplegyu reads#maplegyu faves
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birthday girl
summary: sometimes a girl just needs to cry her way through her birthday; joel makes sure you cry for a good reason this year.
tags: 18+, smut, praise kink, crying, crying during sex but not for bad reasons, fingering, joel has big hands (duh), soft sex, sweet sex, clingy!reader, academic!reader (implied), reader is younger than joel, reader is in college still but no age is discussed, anxious!reader, quiet!reader, soft!joel, dom!joel (a little?), praise kink (again), boyfriend!joel, use of the following nicknames: baby, dove, birthday girl, reader has hair, size difference kind of, happy ending :]
a/n: it's my birthday today !! and i felt like projecting into a fic so here is this thing i wrote in one sitting HAHA <3
(1.4k, not beta read)
“Baby?” Joel calls softly.
He’s knuckle deep in you, stretching you across two of his fingers. You can feel how you’re melting onto him, how you clench onto him in every way possible.
There’s no possible way that this is comfortable for him, not in the slightest. You can tell that his wrist is aching, that the forearm he’s resting on is aching, but he hasn’t said anything yet and you don’t want this to stop.
He’s laid beside you kind of, with one of your legs out on the opposite side of the bed while the other is sandwiched between his own. He always lets you hold yourself open how you want, and tonight you want to be as close to him as you can.
Your arms are awkwardly hugging his neck down to you, so you can nuzzle into his cheek and tell him how you’re feeling. This kind of attention can feel so anxiety inducing sometimes, this weird pressure to come for him quickly so he can be done with it, even if that isn’t what he wants.
Joel will coax your release from you no matter how long it takes, or how many times you want it. He doesn’t mind, he’s always telling you he doesn’t mind, but he needs you to talk to him through it.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly, curling his fingers in you. It makes your hips twitch slightly, a soft mewl leaving your throat in response.
“How’s my birthday girl doin’? Is this good?” Joel asks.
You’re stupidly lucky to have him.
He carried you up the stairs after you began bawling into your birthday dinner, salty tears mixing with the pasta that Joel slaved over for the evening. You couldn’t swallow anymore of it, everything was feeling so heavy already and each gulp of food was landing like lumps of grease in your stomach.
This year has been lonely, painfully so. Somewhere between high school and postsecondary you shrank back into your shell, leaving behind friend groups and growing into your own skin. It felt good for the first little while, but your success and achievements in classes didn’t make up for the sinking feeling in your heart. You have some friends, but not enough for a birthday party, and they aren’t close enough to remember your birthday anyways.
Going out to dinner felt stupid if it was just you and your boyfriend celebrating, it didn’t feel important enough. Joel fought you on it at first, but gave up when he noticed how upset you were. Instead, he made dinner for you and set up some decorations.
You feel a little guilty, thinking about the birthday banner downstairs, the pasta on the table, and the cake in the fridge, but then he curls his fingers again and your eyes flutter.
“Need your words, dove,” Joel says patiently. He doesn’t thrust his fingers at all, just pushing them against your walls softly to remind you he’s there.
Managing to nod, and find your voice, you murmur a yes, feels good, but your voice is so small. Joel picks up on it right away.
“You wanna talk, baby? S’okay if you don’t, s’okay if you’re feelin’ quiet.”
Tears start to billow and burn in the bags beneath your eyes, stinging as you close your eyes and shake your head into the crook of his neck. Your hands clasp behind his neck, pulling him closer, and he nods.
You feel so embarrassed and guilty, but also stupid. Here is Joel, giving you all you need, and you can’t even speak up for him. You didn’t finish his dinner, or blow out the candles, and he’s still reassuring you.
“Is it good slow? Deep and slow right now?” he asks into your ear, scruff scratching your ear.
Your soft nods reassure him and he resumes a slow pace, pushing up against your wall as he presses kisses down the side of your head and in your hair, hushing you. The feeling of his fingers in you is so foreign still, not quite new but not your own either. He’s such a stretch compared to yourself, one that makes your brain fuzz over.
Joel curls his fingers in you, then strokes the inside of you with the pads of his fingers as he begins to talk.
“It’s okay you’re bein’ quiet, baby, you know I don’t mind. Don’t matter if you can use your voice or not, s’long as you keep bein’ the good girl you are.”
Now the tears spill over, hot and rolling slow down your heated cheeks. There are so many emotions and he’s monopolized this overwhelming feeling into pleasure as he pulls wetness from you and spills it onto his knuckles, into his palm. You’re surprised you’re even this turned on when you’ve had such a shit day, but you know it’s because of him.
He hasn’t realized you’re crying yet, still fingering you at an easy pace, something he hopes you can handle.
“Jus’ wanna make you feel good, you deserve it. My strong girl’s been so tough lately, workin’ so hard to make me proud, huh?”
Your tears pour into the fibers of his tee as you push your head down into his shoulder, nodding as you catch your breath between a quiet sob. This recognition feels so different, so much better.
“You cryin’?” He asks quietly.
His fingers don't still. You’ve cried a lot tonight, if you wanted it to stop he knows that you’d tell him, or kick him. You have your means of communicating, even if you’re feeling too much to speak.
Nodding into his shirt, you breathe out a shaky little breath. His neck feels clammy under your hot palms, but you can’t bring yourself to let go.
“S’okay if you’re cryin’, that’s okay, baby. It’s tough bein’ the birthday girl, right? So much stress sometimes, hard to be that pretty and special,” Joel reassures, pulling his fingers almost fully out of you before slowly easing them back into you. There’s a nasty noise coming from you, one that would be lewd if he wasn’t so sweet.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s so hard for you, but you’ve been so good. Best birthday girl I know,” he hums, pushing a little harder into you now. It makes your eyes draw together as tears brim, a little sound pulling itself from your chest.
“M’so proud of you, dove, you know that? I wanna make you feel good, an extra special birthday gift for bein’ so disciplined,” Joel adds.
He drags his face down to yours, shrinking into his own body in a silly way so he can nudge your nose with his. Your eyes are closed but it doesn’t matter, you don’t know if you can handle seeing anything right now. Joel presses a kiss to your forehead, pushing deeper and a little faster into you as his fingers curl, drag, and press into you just right.
“Can I give you that, huh? You want your gift, birthday girl, since you were so good?
Everything is melting now, the tears down your face and the space between your thighs. Wet is everywhere, from your cheeks to his knuckles. Hot, and sticky, and dripping, all of you being kept together from where he’s plugged himself into you. Trying to speak, you make noises, but just babble aimlessly through a desperate sob.
Somehow, through your orgasm, you drag him closer. He’s nearly collapsed on top of you now, barely able to keep moving his fingers as you clench around him, spilling onto him.
“There you go, dove, there you are,” he shushes softly as your chest heaves with a mixture of gasps and sobs.
He doesn’t pull away from you, just lets you cling and sob as you need, kissing wherever he can.
It takes awhile for you to come down, but when you have he doesn’t pull away except for sliding his fingers out of you. Your head feels distant from you, eyes soft and chest exhausted.
“Maybe we can try this birthday thing again tomorrow, hm?” Joel asks, adjusting you so he can lay with you in a more comfortable position. Your head rests on the meat of his chest and you nod, eyes half open. Honestly, apart from what happened just now, today sucked. Having two birthdays sounds perfectly appealing to your melted little brain as he holds you close to his warm body.
Tomorrow, tomorrow can be your birthday.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader smut#tlou#pedro pascal#ellie writes
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So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-
What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-
:3c I love a little kalim posting
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi
type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u
You gave Kalim one rule.
One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.
Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.
"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"
It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.
Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"
"Did they...?"
Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.
The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.
Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."
"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.
"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."
Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"
Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.
"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"
"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.
"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.
"...It comes from here."
Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"
And then he's gone.
.
Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.
Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.
"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.
"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"
You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"
Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.
"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.
You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.
"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"
Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.
Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.
When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.
Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.
You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"
Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.
"I'm so glad you liked it!"
"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."
"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"
"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.
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mind over matter | s.mg
Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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"he wondered if he would have liked it better if they called him out for lying instead."
o man the mixed feelings that come with this. wanting people to either catch ur lie or avoid, yet both possibilities hurt.
"For the first time in a month, Changmin had smiled, laughed even."
my poor boy:( the guilt be so real. loved how you perfectly explained the the true feelings that come with feeling any other emotion apart from sadness and grief.
"Ghana crawled into his lap now, warm mass like a hug. It was the only thing grounding Changmin to reality now."
pets are such a blessing 🥺 im so happy he's had Ghana throughout this process as they can sometimes be the only thing for us.
"How were you supposed to comfort him through your own death?"
this part 😭😭 I felt so bad because as much as she wanted him to move forward, its the hardest thing ever. esp when she's a dead person.
“You can be happy. You’re allowed to feel these things, and you’re allowed to smile and laugh.”
this made me tear 😭😭🥺 I am so happy she was with him for these 7 days.
“Thank you,” he rasped. “Thank you for being here. For coming back. It probably wasn’t your choice, but thank you for choosing me in life and in death.”
the last part 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
nonidol!ji changmin x bff!fem!reader
after the death of his best friend, changmin’s been left to grieve and wallow. but when you suddenly come back to him in the form of a ghost, he realizes that this might be his chance to right some wrongs. (aka; changmin has seven days with your ghost to figure out why you’ve been returned to the land of the living.)
▷ genre, warnings. childhood friends au, you are literally dead./major character death, mentions of a car accident, implied past bullying, swearing, fluff, comedy as a coping mechanism, angst, comfort/hurt, grief and survivor’s guilt, so much crying that you might get tired, just telling you now it is not meant to be a romantic plot but there r hints bc i’m a sucker, i’m not religious but ur a ghost(?), getting over one’s best friend’s death is not easy folks so that’s why y/n goes ghost B)
▷ total wc. 16.8k </3
▷ permanent taglist. @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @ethereal-engene
a/n: hey hello! ik this prob won’t get a lot of interaction bc it’s a tbz fic and non-romantic main, but it would mean a lot to me if u reblogged and shared this :’) otherwise, hope u enjoy, and here’s some mood songs: yellow (coldplay), last (dvwn), & let’s hurt tonight (onerepublic)
DAY ZERO
JUYEON wasn’t really the best at approaching people in this way. There was something about sad people that made him feel helpless, and the fact that this was Ji Changmin, one of his closest friends, the helplessness had collapsed into a sinkhole in the pit of his stomach. Even Chanhee, someone who was arguably closer to Changmin, sat silently after Kevin’s proposed question.
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#i am crying ugly right now as im typing away#this fic deserves so much more praise. how perfectly you depict a loss of a person#god im sobbing so hard rn fuck lol#ive never read anything like this before and loss is such a huge deal yet this was very comforting at the same time#the survior guilt be so real my heart hurts for Changmin 💔#im just speechless. ur work is beautiful as i kept reading on. to write such hard topics and execute to perfection? u have my heart#talented writer 😭🥺#loved the scene of him and sangyeon speaking about yn::) that was such a nice moment for both of them and he made a friend too#so happy to see yn push him through everyday to get up and go to his classes#help him clean up and what not#im so happy that she comforted him throughout the grief#the part when she said she loved him.. byeeeee i bawled my eyes 💔😭😭😭😭😭#but u know what i loved on the last day all the friends gathered just like the good days and watched movies#and the last scene where he heard her say his name and he looked back#and juyeon asking him if hes okay just like he did at the start#im happy hes living and has his friends with him#this was beautiful ah also sorry for my long messages#i just love showing appreciation and this deserved every bit of it#definitely a story that'll always be in my mind#thank you for writing 😭 and i hope youre okay too since this is a hard topic#❣❣❣#the boyz x reader#ji changmin x reader#the boyz angst
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ooooh a fic where reader and Tom reacts to the tiktok edits of them pls✨
Internet Boyfriend || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader
A/n: I LOVE THIS HAHAHHAHA also yes, I did add the links to the tiktok edits 😋
Warnings: none :)
Wc:
Divider by @pommecita
“First of all, congratulations on satisfying this fan of the original series,” The women points to herself, “Thats what we like to hear,” You smile, “Like this film is epic! But uh we need to all about something really really serious first,” You nod, anticipating the questioning.
“Y/n,” You eyebrows shoot up as you tilt your head, “Do you think Tom is ready,” You and Tom look at each other, “to become the internet’s boyfriend? Cause I don’t think he realises what’s about to happen,” Tom looks taken aback as he looks at you.
“I’ve been saying this for so long too!” You meet Tom’s gaze, “I did not expect that question,” He shakes his head lightly laughing. “Beyond the internet boyfriend, it’s just he gives such a beautiful performance in this film and after our first premiere in Berlin, I grabbed his face in the car on the way back to the hotel and I just bawled my eyes out to him, remember that?” You look to him, a smile on your face.
“Yep,” He chuckles, looking down, “Because as an actor and his girlfriend I was just so proud to witness the rise of Tom Blyth in movie making, it’s such a beautiful thing and there’s no one more deserving out there, truly.” You say in appreciation as you and Tom lock eyes.
He puts his hand on his heart, “Thank you,” He says, truly moved by what you said, “That’s so sweet of you,” You lean your head against his shoulder and his arm wraps around your shoulder. “You’re welcome,” You say to him, looking up as you place a light kiss on his jawline.
“Both your performance is honestly just spectacular, I love the two of you, I wish I was there in person to witness it,” She jokes as you all laugh along with her. “Another thing I wanted to ask, specifically aimed to you Tom,” He looks at the women expectantly.
“The girls on tiktok are loving it already, are you ready,” Tom scratches the back of his neck, “Oh God,” As you already start laughing knowing where she was going with this question, “Are you ready for the Snow thirst edits? How do you feel about them,” It’s silent for a few seconds as Tom looks at the floor, a smile on his face.
“It’s begun babe,” You squeeze his arm. “Uh- I’m not on tiktok and I try to stay off online, as much as possible, uhm which is difficult these days- but I don’t see them often until people send them to me- So stop sending them” Tom looks at the camera as you throw your head back, losing it already as you laugh.
“As someone who has tiktok and thoroughly enjoy the edits of the movie, I do send them to Tom-“ “You send them all the time! It’s embarrassinga” You both intertwine hands and laugh out loud. “I don’t really send you the thirst trap ones, mostly just the ones about how blue your eyes are and how great of an actor you are,”
“Well speaking of it, we actually have a few thirst traps of you Tom, lined up for you to react to,” Tom drops his head as you start giggling, “Oh my god,” “Here we go,” You say in as you watch a crew member past you an IPad.
“Oh dear god, this video is going to turn into a try not to cringe challenge video with y/n and Tom reacting to Coryo” You sigh as you watch the first tiktok which is of Tom as Snow. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4EmV8/
You immediately smile knowing you have already seen this tiktok. The interviewer starts laughing as you both watch Tom’s reaction to it. “I must say, It’s very good,” Tom admits, “This tiktok has 5.4 million views, and everyone is saying that this is the Coriolanus snow edit,” She says as you click on the comment section and read through the comments.
“I agree that is the Coriolanus snow edit aswell,” You chuckle. “Okay next one,” You say as Tom groans beside you, already very much embarrassed. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVJCRX/
Your jaw immediately starts to drop upon hearing the audio. Tom covers his eyes as you and the interviewer laugh. “I love the beginning!” You say in between laughs, “Wait what was the beginning?” Tom asks, “Did you not watch it?”
“I covered my eyes the second I heard my voice,” He admits with a silly grin on his face as you shake your head and rewatch it. “Oh, I see,” He rubs his chin as you watch the next one. “Oh I’ve seen this one!” Tom says as you both rewatch it. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVkrxh/
“I’ve always told Tom that everyone obsesses when he says Snow lands on top,” “Yes! The fans go crazy!” The woman laughs along as Tom looks uncomfortable. “Tom say it,” You nudge him as he gives you the ‘don’t make me do it’ look as you give him your puppy eyes, “fine,” He huffs.
He clears his throat as a joke before staring into the camera, “Snow lands on top,” He says in an insanely attractive voice as you fake faint. “Watch them edit this too,” You point out, “Please no,” He covers his face in embarrassment as you pat his back, silently laughing.
“This one, is one my favs actually,” The woman says as she shows you and Tom the tiktok. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4wS5J/ You both crack up at the ending as actual tears started forming in Tom’s eyes. “Oh my god he’s crying,” You slap his thigh as you lean over in your chair from laughter.
After a good 5 minutes the two of you calm down. “For the next one, Y/n you can just go ahead and search up Tom Blyth on TikTok and pick whatever tiktok you want him to react to,” Your eyes lit up at the offer and you hurriedly take the iPad from Tom’s lap and type his name. Tom leans over to look at the iPad as you hide it from him, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.
You take your time as your scroll before one catches your eye. You watch it and your jaw immediately drops open. “What is it?” Tom says impatiently as your eyes flicker from Tom to the woman. “I don’t know if I can even show this,” You cover your mouth.
“Babe, I don’t think you want to see this,” You continue while Tom becomes impatient and curious. “Just show me!” You give a look to the interviewer as you show him the tiktok. Almost immediately, Tom turns it off and gets up from the screen as you stifle a laugh, watching him as he walks behind the camera, his hands on his hips.
“What did I just watch,” He says as you full on start to laugh to the point where you were on the ground laughing and had a stitch. “I should have stayed curious” Tom runs a hand down his face as he sighs and sits back down on the chair, laughing at you on the floor dying from laughter.
“I’m so glad you find this amusing, sweetheart,” He playfully rolls his eyes as he offers his hand and helps you up. “My eye makeup is most definitely ruined,” You say in between laughs as Tom grabs your face and wipes away the smudged mascara.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry I didn’t even show you the tiktok!” You realise as the woman doing the interview snickers. “We probably looked mentally insane,” You fan your face. The TikTok was of Coryo kissing your character in tbosas and the next clip was of Billy kissing Dulcinea which also happened to be played by you and the writing on the TikTok said “This man kisses like he is starved, like she is the oxygen he needs to breathe,”
Tom was beyond embarrassed as he recalled both moments when he was kissing you on screen. “This may be abit of TMI but ladies, he’s always been like that,” You cover the left side of your mouth as you whisper it to the camera before winking.
#fanfiction#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#the hunger games#coriolanus snow x reader#hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth x actress!reader
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heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry
Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much
Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!
(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)
“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B
{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}
“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.
Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.
~~~
Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.
“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.
With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”
Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.
~~~
You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.
It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.
That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.
“Siri?”
A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.
“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”
“…yeah.”
“Oh.”
Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.
“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”
Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.
“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”
Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.
“I love you, Regulus.”
“…”
Regulus walked to his room.
~~~
Sixth year.
Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.
When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.
He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.
Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.
From then on, everything changed.
~~~
Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.
You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“
“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”
“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”
“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”
Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.
Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.
~~~
At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.
You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.
It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.
You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.
“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”
“I did go crazy in that house.”
“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.
~~~
knock, knock, knock.
Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.
Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.
Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.
“Come in.” You mumbled.
As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.
He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”
“I’m in love with you.”
Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.
“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”
He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”
“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”
“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”
Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.
“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.
“I’m fine.” He protested.
You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.
“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.
~~~
You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.
Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.
You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.
“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.
~~~
(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)
#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#marauders#sirius black#marauders era#sirius black scenario#Sirius black💌*~#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black one shot#sirius black x you#sirius black prompt#sirius black imagine#sirius black oneshot#sirius black angst#regulus black x reader prompt#regulus black x reader
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The clock is ticking in the kitchen. Ponyboy is out past curfew. With Dally. The door creaks open, and Darry stands up so fast he nearly falls over. Sodapop walks in, and if he wasn’t freaking out so badly about Pony, maybe Darry would’ve caught the look on his brother’s face.
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“Just me?” Soda says. His eyes are red and puffy. “Why’re you makin’ that face?”
“Pony ain’t back yet,” Darry mutters. “Close the door, you’ll let in bugs.”
Soda does, slowly. He walks over, kinda keeping his head down. Looking anywhere but at Darry.
“Normally I’d be worried too, but actually that kind of works out, ‘cause I have to tell you something I don’t want him to know about yet. I mean…”
He kicks at the throw rug with his foot. “I told him a little last night, but he prolly thinks I was just daydreamin’ and that’s for the best.”
Darry watches him carefully. Oh, so now he’s paying attention.
“What’s goin’ on? You went out with Steve and the girls tonight, didn’t you? Did something happen?”
“I asked Sandy to marry me tonight.”
Darry laughs, a quick, sharp thing. It stings. He doesn’t get it. Ponyboy didn’t either, but he’s fourteen, only been fourteen for a month. He didn’t need to yet.
“You’re dreamin’ Sodapop. You might’ve dropped outta school this year, but you two are way too young for—”
“She’s pregnant.”
They stare at each other for a solid minute, the only sound the clock ticking in the background and the crickets outside. Just the two of them standing there processing the information.
Darry starts to raise a hand, to hold up a finger in a “wait a minute” kind of gesture, and he moves his mouth like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. Soda’s heart hurts in his chest and he tries not to start bawling right there in front of his big brother.
“Well, it don’t matter, anyway. Sandy doesn’t know if it’s mine or not. And if it is it still don’t matter ‘cause her folks are livid. They’re makin’ her move to Florida to live with her grandmother or somethin’, and she dumped me so I’ll never get to see her again, or the baby at all, and she’s leavin’ tomorrow afternoon, and if you could not lose your mind at me I’d really ‘preciate it ‘cause I feel like worse than garbage already.”
He really fights not to let the tears spill over, and granted he does a good job of not breaking down, but some do fall. Darry looks like he will blow any second now, but he just breathes in, breathes out, closes his eyes, and says in a very calculated and careful voice:
“Ponyboy went out with Dally and the gang tonight and he is not back yet. We will talk about this later when I know he is not dead.”
They do not get a chance to talk about it later, and they do not find out for a week if their baby brother is or isn’t dead.
edit: fic I wrote based off this post
#darry curtis#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#the outsiders#the outsiders musical#the outsiders book#curtis brothers#my post#julie writes stuff#so anyway this is why darry was so fucking angry ALREADY that night.#I got a handful of drabbles from the long fic I just posted that I want to edit and post here lol#and one that’s gonna be an actual fic but this? This is too short so
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Hi ok so I was wondering if you can do a comfort fic with joost? Like joost sees readers past SH scars and reader really hates them and finds them disgusting but joost just kisses readers wrist and reader just starts bawling 😔🫶 if this makes u uncomfortable you don’t have to write it I won’t be upset! 🫶🫶🫶
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ STRAWBERRY GASHES⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
𝄞⨾“Watch me falter, Your living like a disaster. She said kill me faster with strawberry gashes all over” - jack off Jill𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
Summary: you have self harm scars but you’ve never told your boyfriend, Joost. One day you forget about the scars and wear somthing that reveals them. Much to your surprise Joost isn’t as disgusted in them as you are.
Note: thank you for all the love on my last fic, I am currently running on….0 hours of sleep and it’s like 1pm where I live so I’m pretty exhausted so this will probably be my last fic for today unless I get bored! Also!! I see all y’all’s requests and even though I don’t respond right away doesn’t mean I’m ignoring them or don’t see them! I like to respond to the request with the fic so you won’t know I saw it until the actual fic comes out! ^_^
Warnings: SELF HARM TW!! other then that just comfort and fluff >~<
༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆。˚
You and Joost had been together for a few months and everything was going great! He loved you more than anyone else ever could, even if they tried. He held you when you felt anxious or upset. Felt excited with you when you were happy and made sure you were always take care of. Always.
But there was one thing you hid from him, something that ate you alive every single day. Joost always questioned with a chuckle why you wore long sleeves in 90 degree weather but you just shrugged it off, saying you were always cold. That was a lie, you were sweating but you were also hiding something that’d hurt you a little more than a little sweat.
Your old sh scars. You struggled with it on a daily basis, sure they were old but they still managed to haunt you. You felt disgusted by yourself everytime you caught glimpses of them and you were sure Joost would too. I mean…who would want a partner that has scars like that.?
Today was the day you find out because being to caught up in excitement to hang out with Joost you forgot about the scars that littered your arms (or anywhere else, so so sorry to be so an inclusive ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)) you put on a pair of your favorite shorts and shirt and head out the door to joosts place, not even looking twice.
Once you arrive, an equally excited Joost greats you and drags you to his room. You weren’t even thinking about it, so in love with your boyfriend to even care. He didn’t even notice either, finding every part of you perfect…until.
Until you lifted your arm in a certain way, that put your scars on full display. You noticed that Joost stoped mid speaking and looked over to him to see his face that was full of emotion that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was a mix of sadness, confusion, fear, and shock.
You look at him confused until your eyes follow his that were deadpan staring right at your scars. You gasp softly and cover your scars, sitting up immediately. You felt ringing in your ears and your heart rate quickening. You lower your head and feel the tears of shame and embarrassment start to burn in your eyes.
You feel the touch of your beloveds soft fingertips grab your hand, interlocking y’all’s fingers and pulling your arm towards him. You keep your head down and squeeze your eyes shut trying to block everything out.
When you suddenly felt soft kisses on the places your scars were spread. Your eyes snap open and your head raises to look at Joost. He presses soft and gentle kisses on every.singe.scar. He makes sure to press 3 to each one for good measure.
Your heart feels heavy and you just burst into tears, Joost is close to tears as well. Once hes done you immediately jump into his arms, he strokes your back and whispers soft words of praise to you waiting for you to calm down.
Once you’re calmer, only small tears flowing down your wet cheeks he props you in his lap and holds you close. “I knew something was up when you kept wearing all those long sleeves..” he whispers almost kicking himself for not noticing sooner.
“I-I’m sorry… they’re old I promise!! A-and I just didn’t want you to see because they’re ugly and i just didn’t-” your cut off by a soft kiss being pressed to your lips. “Shh…you don’t have to give any explanation or reason unless you want to, okay?” He speaks with that signature smile that you loved so dearly
“You’re…you’re not disgusted.?” You ask looking up at him, he almost looks exasperated at your words. His eyes widening and mouth parting. “Disgusted.?! Why the hell would I be disgusted mijn geliefde, you’re so beautiful to me. Everything about you, even your scars.” He says with a soft smile and a kiss to your head.
“They’re gross, I ruined my skin and now they’re gonna be there forever…” you argue as you lower your head back down and play with his fingers, “so? Who cares, first of all they’re not gross, they’re not disgusting, you’re not ugly and will never be ugly. You’re not ruined and they just show how much of a fighter you are baby. Nothing to be ashamed about, promise.” He says interlocking your pinkies together
You smile and giggle softly, tears still staining your cheeks which Joost quickly kissed away making you laugh and push his head away, “Joost that tickles!!” You squeal as he smiles and peppers ticklish kisses over your face.
You knew no matter what you looked like or what happened or hell even what you went through he would always be there for you. He would forever and always be your biggest supporter. He loved you for you and nothing less.
#joost x fem reader#Joost x male reader#joost klein x reader#joost x reader#joost klein#joost klein x you#justice for joost
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Hey love, can i request the jjk men (or just Gojo tbh) taking care of their SO after giving birth? That would be suuuper sweet and thank you💙💙
father and husband ⋆ gojo satoru
gojo takes care of you after giving birth + other hcs
an. i'm not done with the long ass gojo fic so i'm finishing this draft first. sorry i do not know much about birth i am a teenager writing fanfiction after all...... my google search history might make my parents think i'm pregnant
cw. sfw, f!reader, not proofread, mentions of female anatomy, suggestive jokes at the end
playing. 17 by pink sweat$, ft. joshua and dk of seventeen.
"this is so unfair, 'toru."
the thick sheets the private hospital provided you with restrained you from sitting up. sunlight pours into the room through the spaces in the blinds — the ward is awfully quiet, much unlike your expectations.
"huh?"
you turn your head towards the leather chair situated next to your bed. it's a pale beige, clashing with the various blues this hospital decorates itself with — and with the white hair of the man you call your husband.
his hair falls messily onto the material. you furrow your eyebrows and wonder what has gotten into him; he's been much quieter than usual. this was not typical satoru behaviour.
your newborn baby was getting examined and you were told it would take a bit. your family wouldn't be coming down till tomorrow morning — something you didn't mind because you were so sure satoru, your loving husband, was just as prepared as you are for the birth.
"he's got your eyes," you mutter. the anxiety was really starting to kick in now; satoru was never this quiet. ever. your attempts at making conversation echo, and it's eerie how you could forget satoru was even here if you just closed your eyes. "satoru?"
you swear you see a thick bead of sweat roll down his temple. he sits cautiously, as if he is ready to spring up into action any moment now.
"i'm so scared, [name]." gojo's voice trembles and it bounces off the walls; you feel your heart skip a beat, only to pound harder the next.
SATORU starts bawling when he gets to hold his baby after the discharge. tears run down his face like two waterfalls, staining his sweatshirt. your baby looks at him with the most curious eyes, before shutting them and returning to a deep sleep.
he holds your son as if he's fragile glass, grip firm and careful not to slip — your fingers wipe the tears pooling at his waterline and gojo can't help but look at you with absolute adoration.
"please stop crying, 'toru," you smile up at the crybaby you call your husband. "you can't drive with tears in your eyes."
he tries to speak but nothing comes out. gojo's voice cracks before saying anything and he only manages to nod, handing the baby back to you.
SATORU who makes sure to help you with whatever you need, you just need to order him around. he's just as new to this parenting thing as you are, given you are the only woman he's ever loved — patience is needed with him as much as it's needed with you.
for example: satoru would never complain about waking up early in the morning to feed your son. he'd spring out of bed, nervous yet oddly confident. he was afraid of not being fatherly enough — so, this was a wonderful start. he was extremely elated when you asked him to do such a duty the night prior.
he slips out of the sheets and sees your peaceful face, lips parted and letting out small snores; gojo knew you needed the rest after all the sleepless nights.
"good morning," satoru's softly cooing at your son, careful arms scooping him up into his chest and out of the baby blue crib (that coincidentally matches both their eyes). your son only cries in response, much to satoru's displeasure.
your husband can't help but smile down at his child, before glancing over at you a few feet away; comfortably wrapped in your shared blanket.
"mama's asleep, so you're stuck with me." he mimics a pout, but words could not describe how happy he was. your son could only stare blankly at him, giggling when he presses a gentle kiss on his forehead. "sorry, not sorry."
although the baby doesn't bond with your husband that well (yet), his determination is unwavering. he makes sure to be nearby the bedroom — but not too far away, in case something goes wrong — so his cries don't wake you.
all goes well until gojo changes your son's diaper an hour later and gets pee all over his hands, that he rushes into your bedroom for help.
"[name], baby," he bites his lip out of worry, opening the door with his dry hand and calling for you. "he peed on me—"
you give him a thank you kiss for trying anyway.
SATORU who rubs your shoulders for you, or really any other body part ever — he's a weirdly good masseuse. you often find yourself falling asleep on the couch as he kneads your pains away.
"baby," he whispers.
you three were on the couch, watching a movie in the late evening. your groans don't go unnoticed, and he knows you've been holding your baby for quite some time in hopes of calming him down.
"psst, baby." satoru repeats, the arm around your shoulder tapping the flesh of yours. "aren't you tired?"
"a little," you sigh. "he might wake up if i put him down."
"nah," satoru caresses your shoulder gently. "put him down for a minute. i'll help."
"help?"
"did you know i give really good massages?" satoru smirks, "your husband's crazy talented, i know."
you raise an eyebrow. you've never heard of gojo satoru massaging people — you're a little skeptical, but put down your son in the bassinet next to the couch nonetheless.
the ache in your shoulder and back were a little too intense to bear, now. satoru could tell with the way you were shifting around in your position every 5 minutes.
well, all your doubt washes away almost as fast as it came — you find yourself knocked out on the couch for the next hour, your head against satoru's shoulder.
SATORU who makes sure to give you extra kisses and extra hugs during this period of change.
he understands how difficult it must be for you — although maybe not to the full extent, considering he doesn't have a uterus — but he wants to try, and try he does.
whenever you have baby blues, he's always there. he kisses the tears off your cheeks, wiping them away with his thumb and whispering soft praises in your ears.
satoru couldn't express how grateful he is to you for giving him a son to love, to raise with you. he can only attempt to say it in words and through kisses, although he feels that may never be enough.
"i-i'm sorry for waking you, 'toru," you sniffle, even if your body language screams the opposite — your head is buried in satoru's chest and he has his hands running through your hair.
"shh, it's okay baby — don't be sorry," he holds your body close to him with his other hand, tracing circles onto the thin fabric of your clothes. "i'm here."
other times, you break down while trying to take care of your son — sometimes the cries get too loud and overwhelming, and everything you do just seems to make it worse.
satoru hears your crying and he immediately rushes over (if he wasn't already in the room with you), taking your son from your hands and trying to calm him down himself. he'll press a kiss onto your forehead, using his free hand to wipe your tears away — and he'll tell you to let him take over.
"shit," he swears under his breath, rushing into the room and seeing your tear-stained face; satoru instinctively reaches for the baby and you hand him over. "let me do it, okay?"
you nod, desperately wiping your face with the sleeves of your hoodie — before satoru uses his right hand to wipe them for you, his lips planted on your forehead.
"i'm s-sorry," you mutter, feeling a little better when you feel the skin of your husband on yours. "i don't know what to do—"
"it's okay, baby," he smiles, tucking stray hairs behind your ears as you continue to calm yourself down; your baby is still crying, and satoru looks oddly calm as opposed to you. "let me take over for a bit."
sure, he gets overwhelmed sometimes; but he needs to be your glue in case you can't pull yourself together. even if he's clueless too, he has to be strong for you — he can imagine the chaos that would ensue if he wasn't.
when he puts the baby to sleep half an hour later, he returns to the bedroom to find you in bed: wrapped in a blanket with tissues in your hands.
satoru feels his heart break at the sight.
he climbs into bed with you and his arms find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him; his warmth feels like the medicine you've been needing this entire time, and it's almost as if all your anxiety dissipates.
"you did good today," his cold breath tickles the back of your neck, and you feel his nose bump at your nape. "i'm proud of you."
"it was all you this time," you reply in a hushed voice, throat hurting at the tears you were trying to keep in. "i don't know what i'd do—"
"no," satoru interrupts you. "i couldn't feed the baby this morning, and you did it instead — remember?"
"i remember. you knocked over the formula."
"mhm," satoru hums, his fingers intertwining with yours. "and you did it in only 2 minutes. you're too good at this baby thing, [name]."
"you don't seem so scared anymore, satoru."
you hear a laugh escape from your husband's lips. "thanks to you," and he's pressing kisses along the outline of your shoulder and neck. "i'm the strongest, after all — what can i not do?"
"you're the cockiest, too," you snicker, and you only earn a dramatic gasp from the man behind you.
"don't talk about cock with me right now."
your jaw drops slightly, before you flip your body over to face satoru's direction: he has an annoying smirk painted on his face. "you are so disgusting, satoru."
"you know you love me—" and just as satoru's leaning in for a kiss on the lips, cries from the nursery room erupt.
"man."
writers block is real i think
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still so disappointed that mr pennycrumb [fives dog in the comics] didnt rlly appear much in the show </3
ok ok so its the academy's birthday and the reader is insanely good at gift giving and never forgets to give presents if theres smth special happening. they hand out the gifts to everyone except they avoid five and disappear w/o them knowing where they went, only to come back at dusk w/ a larger box. obviously five went insane and rambles on how worried he was before the reader finally shuts him up by plopping the box on him, and boom. theres a puppy.
[loved the last viktor fic btw. literally bawled my eyes out]
- 🦇
OMG YES the only appearance we saw was in s3 when Luther went on a jog before he got napped :( ; and thank you!! I got bored and I couldn't extend it any further so it's kinda dumb but it's alr haha ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also sorry this is so short and dumb idk writers block is so picky
FIVE HARGREEVES ; mr pennycrumb
summary ; when the umbrella academys birthdays roll around, you get five a whole ass dog
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; some of the gifts are related to hobbies/interests that are more of hcs than actual canon
word count ; 738
masterlist
When you walked into Allison's with multiple boxes and bags for the Hargreeves, they all knew you were at it again with your insane yet accurate gift giving. They started with cake, then moved over to presents.
Gift giving in the family was like secret Santa in a way. Everyone would essentially get gifts for all the others, and they'd pass around gifts one by one, usually by number order. Luther was always first, Viktor always last. Lila usually snuck in around Diego, because duh. Viktor had gotten used to being last, the forgotten one. But around his family now, he knew it wasn't like that anymore. He'd rather go last so everyone else could have their special time on their special day.
So, the group sets the gifts tagged for Luther on the table in front of him. The kids halfway watch from afar, paying attention to the TV and their toys more than their celebrating parents, aunts, and uncles.
You were among the minority in the house that didn't share a birthday with them, thank God. You would've gone insane over big birthdays like this.
Five, meanwhile, was going insane over you basically ignoring him all day.
You'd gotten Luther some workout gear, knowing he'd taken up going to the gym within the past couple of years. Among other gifts were little trinkets and other things he wanted. He was a little hard to shop for, never really wanting anything, enjoying the quality time over any gift giving.
Next was Diego, and inside the gift you got for him, was a knife sharpening kit. He'd lost his old one just in time. Lila came up next, receiving a few nice outfits you found for her and a gift card to Cosmoprof, as she'd been thinking about re-dyeing her hair to white again.
Next up was Allison, grateful for the numerous acting job business cards you'd given her on top of a bunch of books that were on her Amazon wishlist. She was a serious reader who wanted to get back into acting, now.
Klaus was after her, ecstatic about a carry-around cleaning kit. You were going to go with a joint maker to make his life easier before he got sober. Now he wouldn't need a full bag of cleaning supplies, he'd have your perfect gift.
Five decided to go last, wanting to watch his family be happy more than open presents himself.
Ben was next, receiving some letters from modeling agencies. As he should.
Viktor was second to last, very appreciative for the new drink recipes you'd made and found for him atop the pile of clothes you'd gotten him.
You disappeared around dusk, leaving Five to open his presents without presence. He was physically eighteen, mentally sixty-two today.
As he looks up, seeing the lack of you around, he hides a soft frown. He noticed how you weren't standing near him all night, how you barely even spoke around him.
"Did you do something to Y/n?" Klaus asks out of the blue. "They just kinda... dissappeared"
Five shrugs. "I don't think I did. Even if I did do something, they'd talk it out with me"
Allison shrugs. "I think that's them" she comments, looking out the screen door to see you pull up in your car again. "Diego, could you get the door?"
Diego turns around, unlocking the door for you, holding it open as he sees you holding a big box.
"Why is that box bigger than you?"
"Also, why is it moving?"
You set the box on the table in front of Five, a wide smile on your face. "Open it"
He slowly sets aside the large box of coffee pods he received from Diego to the side, slowly reaching for the box flaps. As he pulls them to the side, out jumps a little dog.
"Oh my God?"
Five smiles, pulling the puppy into his lap. He looks up at you, a glimmer in his eyes. "Why did you get me a dog?"
You shrug, moving the box off the table. "You're a lonely old man, you need some company"
He chuckles, petting the pug's head.
"What're you gonna name it?" Ben asks, arms crossed.
"Him" You correct
"Mr. Pennycrumb" Five answers.
"Why?" Luther asks.
The physically younger boy shrugs. "Why not?"
"Interesting choice" Klaus mutters with a shrug.
Five smiles up at you, giddy like a little kid. "Thank you"
"I try"
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