#I mean I HOPE it doesn’t JUST start to get good in the second half

[malk1ns]

january 3 @ panthers, 3-2 S/O loss

sidney out here doing sidney things.

geno...is not so much doing geno things right now. he's still drawing up plays that make goals happen, because that tying goal doesn't happen without his vision and hockey IQ, but he's in a slump right now. i think i have the answer as to why!

previous soulbond installments: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

As the season wears on, Zhenya makes a decision when it comes to the bond.

The specialists dragging them into meetings every other day, the added scrutiny in a season where they’re already being watched, is fraying Sid at the seams. He still comes to Zhenya’s house in his spare time, but he’s distracted, spending too much time on his phone and spacing out on their conversations.

Zhenya knows why. Neither of them are scoring, and the only time they’re allowed on the ice together is when Sid ignores the call for a change on the power play and stays out for the full two minutes.

The strategy they’ve been forced to adopt isn’t working. Sid’s slowly losing his mind.

So Zhenya changes tacks, all on his own.

Normally when he’s not on the ice he’s only half-paying attention, especially if his line isn’t due out for a shift for a while. He’s always done better when he has time to check out from gameplay and center himself for a few seconds. Now, though, he leans forward and watches when the first line is out, tracking Sid on the ice and watching plays develop.

And he pushes.

It’s not cheating, Zhenya’s pretty sure. Even if it is, he’d like to see someone try and prove it.

Sid was always going to rebound. He’s too good to have a down-stretch that lasts more than a few weeks. Even now, in his 20th year in the league, he has more talent in one hand than the majority of players could ever hope to have. 

If Zhenya helps out a little…well, that’s just being a good teammate.

He wasn’t quite prepared for the effect helping Sid out would have on his own play. It’s helping the team win though, or at least stay competitive in games where a few weeks ago they would have folded and gotten blown out. Zhenya can accept his own production suffering, can weather the media criticism and the whispers that he’s washed, if it helps Sid and the team.

He misses scoring real goals, though. Maybe he’ll get the balance figured out with more time; it would be nice to be able to help the top line and get a few goals of his own.

Slowly, Sid calms down. He settles into the team again, laughing with the guys and teasing the kids and getting his swagger back. Zhenya knows he made the right decision when Sid passes Mario for the franchise lead in assists, and Sid drags him into bed that night and proceeds to take him apart so thoroughly that Zhenya cried at one point.

Zhenya thinks he can go through a season like this, even if he doesn’t quite crack 20 goals, if it means he has Sid, and he has the team, and the team starts winning more.

He should have known Sid would figure it out.

He’s not sure what tipped Sid off against Florida. There was that shot on the wide-open net Zhenya missed, and there was the mess in overtime, where he almost had the game-winner and couldn’t even get off the ice.

Sid lets Zhenya linger after he changes, saying hi to his friends who drove up from Miami to watch the game, but once they’re back at the hotel, he follows Zhenya back to his room. Zhenya can feel how irritated he is.

“Before you start, let me put on pajamas,” Zhenya says as Sid shuts the door behind them, interrupting whatever Sid was about to start in with.

Sid deflates, but he nods, crossing his arms and watching as Zhenya digs in his bag for his sweatpants.

He smirks a little when he pulls his pants down and Sid’s interest spikes. He can’t be that mad, then.

“Oh, I am,” Sid answers out loud, and Zhenya sighs gustily as he tosses his suit into his bag and slouches to the bed. “G, what are you thinking? Did you really think I’d never notice that you’re…I don’t know, sacrificing yourself for my play? Did you think I’d want this?”

“No,” Zhenya snaps, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m not think you’re want me play like shit, like, obviously. But it’s help, yes? We’re win more now, specialists leave us alone when you’re scoring, like, it’s good for team.” He stares Sid down. “I’m wrong? You can’t say, I know I’m right.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Sid explodes, pushing off from the wall and stalking towards the bed. “You’re fucking up your game to…I don’t even know what you’re doing. How the hell are you so good at playing with the bond, first there was that goal you grabbed from me a few months ago now this, and I can’t even…” He takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, G, you have to stop.”

“Hmm, no,” Zhenya says, smiling when Sid’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “My choice, Sid. Okay, yes, it’s not so good for my game right now, but I practice, it gets better. It’s more important for your line to be best right now.” He holds up his hand before Sid can interrupt. “No, it’s true. You’re captain, like, guys look to you the most. When you’re play best, do crazy things like perfect pass, edgework, it’s make everyone want to try harder for you. Whole team gets…lift? Not sure how to say, but you’re example. It’s not the same if it’s me.”

Sid opens his mouth, but Zhenya can feel when he accepts what Zhenya’s saying as truth. “I still don’t like it,” he mutters, turning to his own bag and tugging out his sweatpants with an unnecessary amount of force. “This wouldn’t be happening if they’d just let us do what feels right. It’s stupid.”

“Yes,” Zhenya agrees, opening his arms so Sid can crawl into his embrace. “They very stupid, we’re say this many times. Can’t change it though, they’re here, they watch. Maybe soon they’re think we adjust like they want, they leave and we do our way, see what happens. But for now, we do this.”

Sid sighs. His thoughts are too fast for Zhenya to pick anything specific out, just a general feeling of unhappiness. “I still don’t like it,” he mutters. “It’s not fair to you. I hear what they’re saying.”

Zhenya shrugs. “They always say about me, every year. What’s new? Maybe you’re give me goal next game, like, shut them up for a while. Maybe I keep not doing media so much and they’re forget if they have fun goals to talk about with you. It doesn’t matter, though. More important that team comes together, like, try hardest every night.”

“I don’t like when you’re this reasonable,” Sid says, turning his head so he can wrinkle his nose up at Zhenya. “And, hey, if you’re so self-sacrificing, why didn’t you do anything during the shootout? We could have used a win tonight.”

Zhenya shakes his head solemnly, pulling a mournful face. “Can’t help your shootout, Sid,” he says. “It’s too late, like, you’re too far gone. So boring, don’t even try, I push and push and nothing. Hey!” He squawks, trying to twist away from where Sid’s digging his fingers into Zhenya’s side.

Their play-wrestling must be loud, because Kris in the room next door bangs on their shared wall after just a few minutes, before it even had a chance to turn into something a little more fun.

[juniperhillpatient]

ooh I’m about to be done with the first draft of chapter 6 of scream au & I am very excited about this one it really serves I think 🫶🫶🫶 u guys won’t get to see it for a long time but. I’m just saying.

[tender-rosiey]

yoo rose I started following you a little while ago and I really liked you. I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for a scenario where Nanami arrives drunk and his wife takes care of him while he talks about how he loves her I liked all your stories with my businessman <3

unsteady love — nanami kento x f!reader

a/n: so glad that you do, love! <33 hope you like this one too 🫶🫶

kento stumbles slightly into your house, catching himself against the wall before you steady him, “kento… you’re drunk.”

he blinks down at you, the usually serious expression on his face replaced by something softer, more relaxed. there’s a faint flush coloring his cheeks, and he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.

“I am not drunk,” he declares, his voice slurred just enough to betray him. “I’m... just—” he waves his hand vaguely in the air, searching for the right word. “...enlightened.”

you suppress a smile and guide him to the couch, sitting him down gently. “sure, ‘enlightened.’” you shake your head, amused. “stay put, I’ll get you some water.”

as you move to the kitchen, you hear him muttering to himself. “can’t believe I’m drunk,” he grumbles, almost like he’s scolding himself, “what kind of a husband does that?”

when you return, cup in hand, he’s sitting with his head leaned back against the couch, his eyes half-closed. but when you approach, he perks up immediately, watching you with a soft, slightly dazed look.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says. his voice is quieter, more sincere, and it catches you off guard for a second. nanami isn’t exactly shy about how he feels, but this is a side of him you don’t see often.

“drink,” you instruct, handing him the water to avoid the sudden rush of emotions his words bring. he takes the glass without complaint, but even as he drinks, his eyes never leave you.

after a few sips, he sets the glass down on the table and leans back again, sighing contentedly. “you take such good care of me,” he says softly, almost to himself, “I don’t deserve you.”

you chuckle at the sudden sentimental turn. “kento, you’re acting like I’ve just saved your life. you had a few drinks. you will be okay.”

he shakes his head, looking at you with those hazy, half-lidded eyes. “it is serious. you’re always here for me. always... my constant. my…” he trails off, struggling for the right words in his drunken haze, “you make everything better. I love you.”

his words are raw, unfiltered by the usual restraint he keeps on his emotions. there’s a vulnerability in the way he says it that makes your heart tighten.

“I love you too,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

but before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist gently, pulling you closer. “no, you don’t get it.” he’s more insistent now, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that’s surprising given his state. “I really love you. I think about it all the time, all—the time.”

you laugh softly, though his words tug at something deep inside you. “you can tell me all about it when you’re sober.”

he doesn’t let go, though, his grip still gentle but firm. “I mean it. you make the worst days worth it. you... you’re everything.”

a soft laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity but also aware of how much the alcohol is loosening his tongue. “I know, kento. you’ve told me before.”

nanami pouts—a rare expression that looks so out of place on his usually stoic face. “but I don’t say it enough. you deserve to hear it.”

he blinks sloppily as he stares at you before murmuring, "I need to marry you."

you let out a soft laugh and kiss his cheek, "we are married, you silly man."

in a once in a lifetime incident, your husband stares at you, eyes wide, face reddening by the second. he looks down at his feet for a few moments, then you see him hum, "that's nice."

his seriousness is almost comical given the state he’s in, and you can’t help but tease him a little. “y'know, you’re awfully chatty for someone who insisted they weren’t drunk.”

he lets out a sigh, leaning his head back again and releasing your wrist, “fine, fine. maybe I’m a little drunk. but it doesn’t change the fact that I—”

before he can finish, he shifts too quickly and almost topples off the couch. you rush to catch him, but you fall with him, and he blinks, disoriented, before breaking into a lopsided smile. “maybe a lot drunk.”

“yeah, maybe,” you say with a laugh, helping him sit back up. “come on, let’s get you to bed.”

as you help him to his feet, he leans heavily against you, his arm draped over your shoulder. you guide him down the hallway, his weight familiar but the situation still amusingly foreign.

normally, he’s the one doing the taking care of—you can’t help but relish this rare moment where the roles are reversed.

once you’ve managed to get him into bed, he pulls you down next to him, refusing to let go of your hand. his eyes, though heavy with sleep, remain fixed on you with that same soft, adoring look.

“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbles, his voice thick with exhaustion and sincerity, “we have to go to malaysia together.”

“sure,” you smile, brushing your fingers through his hair as his eyes finally flutter shut. “goodnight, kento.”

just as you’re about to pull away, his hand tightens around yours once more, and he whispers, half-asleep, “I love you.”

his words are softer now, less dramatic than before but still brimming with emotion.

you watch him for a moment, his features relaxed in the dim light, and feel a warmth spread through your chest. this side of him—unguarded, affectionate, and a little silly—is one you cherish just as much as his usual seriousness.

as he drifts off, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting his words linger in the air, “I love you too.”

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[pucksandpower]

Thick Thighs Save Lives

Day 15 → Thigh Riding 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You okay?” Max’s voice cuts through your haze, pulling you back to reality. You blink twice, realizing you’ve been staring — no, more like ogling — at the man standing in front of you.

You cough, trying to play it off. “What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Your voice cracks, and you hate it. You’re not convincing anyone, least of all yourself.

Max tilts his head, concern flickering in those blue eyes. “You sure?” His Dutch accent is thicker when he’s confused, or worried. Right now, you think it’s both. “You look … distracted.”

Distracted. That’s an understatement. But what are you supposed to say? Sorry, babe, I overheard some fans talking about your thighs, and now I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to-

Nope. Not happening.

Instead, you shake your head too quickly, like that’ll fix the mess in your brain. “Just … hungry, maybe,” you mumble, though you know hunger isn’t exactly what’s going on.

Max gives you a sideways look, one eyebrow raised. “Hungry?” He repeats, not buying it for a second. You can tell by the way his lips twitch into that small, knowing smirk of his.

“Yeah, hungry,” you lie again, pulling at the sleeves of your jacket like it’s suddenly too tight, or too hot, or both. “Long day, y’know?” You hope the vague excuse will get him to drop it. You’re begging the universe for mercy at this point.

But Max isn’t one to let things slide, especially when it comes to you. He steps closer, and now, all you can think about is the fact that the fans weren’t wrong. His thighs really are massive — like, practically sculpted by the gods or something.

You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down for half a second. You catch yourself just in time, but Max catches you too.

“You’re acting weird,” he says, and there’s a teasing lilt in his voice now. He’s grinning, and you hate that he’s grinning, because it means he knows something’s up. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you blurt out. Too fast. Way too fast. You force a smile, trying to steer the conversation somewhere — anywhere — else. “I’m just, uh, thinking about … qualifying! Yeah, qualifying. How’s the car?”

Max’s grin softens into something more genuine, like he’s willing to play along for now. “The car’s good. Feels fast. We’ll see.” He shrugs, his eyes still studying you, probably wondering what the hell is actually going on in that head of yours.

“That’s good,” you say, nodding like an idiot. “That’s great. Fast is great.”

Max laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “What’s really going on? You never look this … distracted.”

You swallow hard, heat rising to your face. Damn it, he’s not going to let this go. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, that sounds remotely believable. “I told you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m just hungry.”

“Uh-huh,” Max says, clearly not convinced. He crosses his arms over his chest, which only draws your attention back to his entire … well, everything. You try not to look, but your eyes have a mind of their own.

For a second, you’re sure he’s going to press further, but then someone calls his name from across the paddock. It’s one of the engineers, probably needing him back before qualifying starts. Max looks over his shoulder and gives a nod before turning back to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, still watching you carefully, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t make any sense. “But we’re talking about this later.”

You nod, thankful that the conversation is ending before you dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Yeah, sure, later.”

Max looks at you for a second longer, his eyes narrowing in that way he does when he’s thinking, really thinking. Then he gives you a quick smile, one of those small, private ones that’s just for you. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice soft but insistent.

“I will,” you reply, managing to sound more normal than you feel. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks,” he says, turning to walk away, and that’s when it happens.

Your eyes, without your permission, drift downward again. His back is to you now, his long strides taking him toward the garage, and it’s impossible not to notice the way his legs move.

His thighs — God, those thighs — are straining against the fabric of his race suit. It’s like every muscle is defined, every step making them flex in a way that you’re suddenly very, very aware of.

And it’s not just the size. It’s the power behind them, the way you know he’s spent years building that kind of strength, how it’s the kind of thing you only really notice when you’re close to him, or, in your case, when you’ve been thinking about it all day because some fans pointed it out, and now it’s all you can think about.

You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound. Your heart is racing, and your palms are starting to sweat, and all you can focus on is the way his legs look as he moves further away from you.

You should be ashamed of yourself. You are ashamed of yourself. This is ridiculous, and yet …

Max stops halfway to the garage and glances back over his shoulder, probably to check if you’re still watching. You quickly snap your gaze upward, hoping he doesn’t catch you staring again. But it’s too late — there’s that grin on his face, the one that says he knows exactly what’s going on.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, managing a weak smile. “Yeah,” you lie again. “I’m fine.”

Max shakes his head, clearly not buying it, but he doesn’t press any further. He gives you one last look before heading back toward the garage, and as he disappears inside, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

You’re still staring at the spot where he disappeared, and without even thinking about it, you run your tongue over your bottom lip.

You can’t help it. You’re salivating.

You’re only human, after all, and some temptations are impossible to resist.

***

The hotel room is quiet, except for the sound of the zipper on Max’s backpack as he tosses it aside. It’s late, the race adrenaline slowly wearing off, but you’re both still buzzing with energy. Max is already getting undressed, down to just his Red Bull t-shirt and those jeans that hug his body like a second skin.

You’re barely paying attention to what you’re doing, hands fumbling with the buttons of your own shirt, your mind somewhere far away. Or maybe not that far. Maybe your mind is right where it’s been for the past thirty-two hours — on him. Specifically, on those damn thighs.

Max turns his back to you for a moment, pulling his shirt over his head, and when he faces you again, you’re frozen, mid-button, staring. His thighs strain against his jeans, the fabric pulled taut around them as he shifts his weight.

You know you should keep undressing, keep moving, but you can’t. All thoughts leave your mind, replaced with the memory of the way they looked under his race suit, the way they flexed as he walked, the way-

“You’re staring again.”

His voice is low, teasing, and it snaps you out of your trance. You blink, cheeks burning, and quickly look away, but it’s too late. Max has already caught you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he moves closer.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” He’s standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, but he already knows. Of course he does. The way he’s grinning tells you that much. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”

You swallow hard, trying to find some way out of this, some excuse, but nothing comes. He’s so close, close enough that you can smell the faint traces of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin, and all you can think about are those jeans, how tight they are around his legs, how-

Max reaches out, gently tipping your chin up so you have to meet his gaze. “You can tell me,” he says, his voice soft now, almost coaxing. “What’s got you all flustered, hmm?”

You can’t look away. He’s too close, too knowing, and suddenly, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. What are you supposed to say? That his thighs are all you’ve been able to think about? That the way they look in his jeans is driving you crazy?

Max’s eyes flicker down, and you know he’s noticed where your gaze keeps drifting. His smirk deepens, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped, taking on a huskier tone. “Ah. I see.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He knows. Of course he knows. You feel your heart start to race, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too hot.

Max steps even closer, his hand sliding from your chin to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He murmurs, his eyes dark and intent, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “I would’ve taken care of you sooner.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but it’s no use. Max is looking at you like he knows exactly what you need, and worse — he’s right. He moves his hand to the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed, and you follow, unable to resist.

When you reach the edge of the bed, Max sits, his legs spread slightly apart, and you’re left standing there, feeling like the world’s worst combination of flustered and exposed. He’s still in his jeans, the denim pulled tight over his thighs, and your eyes are immediately drawn to them again. You don’t even try to hide it this time.

Max chuckles, low and deep. “Come here,” he says, his voice a command wrapped in a velvet whisper.

Your feet move before your brain can catch up. You step between his legs, heart pounding in your chest, and Max’s hands find your hips, pulling you down until you’re straddling his thigh. The moment you make contact, your breath hitches, your body reacting to the firm pressure beneath you.

“See?” Max murmurs, his hands sliding up to your waist, his touch gentle but insistent. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You can’t answer, can’t find the words. All you can do is nod, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as you shift on his thigh. The friction is immediate, electric, sending a shockwave through your body. You gasp, and Max’s grip tightens.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands guide your hips, slow at first, drawing out the movement, letting you feel every inch of him beneath you. The rough fabric of his jeans rubs against you, the friction unlike anything you’ve felt before. It’s overwhelming, almost too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you want, what you need.

Max watches you, his eyes dark and hungry as you move against him, your breaths coming faster, more ragged. He knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how to drive you crazy, and he’s taking his time, savoring every second of it.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” He whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. At my legs. You couldn’t stop, could you?”

You shake your head, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. The heat between your legs is building, and every time you shift, every time you drag yourself over the firm muscle of his thigh, it sends a pulse of pleasure through you.

Max grins, his hands tightening on your waist, guiding you faster now, urging you on. “I knew it,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “You just needed this. You needed me.”

You moan softly, your head falling forward against his shoulder as the pressure builds, your body practically trembling from the intensity of it. Max’s grip on you never wavers, his hands controlling the rhythm, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You can’t hold back anymore. The tension in your body snaps, and you cry out softly, your hips bucking against his thigh as the pleasure overtakes you. Max holds you steady, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you as wave after wave of sensation crashes over you.

When it’s over, you’re left breathless, slumped against him, your body trembling in the aftermath. Max’s hands slide up and down your back, soothing, gentle, as he waits for you to catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of warmth. “You did so well.”

You don’t have the energy to respond, your head still spinning from the intensity of it all. But then, as the haze begins to clear, you feel something — wetness — on the denim covering his thigh. You pull back slightly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you realize what you’ve done.

Max just chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice full of mischief. “I don’t mind.”

You bury your face in his chest, mortified, but Max’s arms come around you, holding you close, his laugh rumbling through his body.

“I told you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your hair. “I know exactly what you need.”

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the hotel suite. You stir in bed, slowly coming to consciousness, a vague sense of discomfort pulling you from sleep.

For a moment, you’re content to stay buried under the sheets, your body heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction from the night before. But then the feeling sharpens — a tenderness, right between your legs. You shift, and the soreness becomes more pronounced.

Your eyes snap open. Oh.

The friction from last night, the way you rode Max’s thigh with reckless abandon, comes back to you in vivid, heated flashes. You groan, face half-buried in the pillow, not from embarrassment this time but from the distinct ache you feel in your most sensitive spot. Your poor bundle of nerves, now sore, throbs slightly when you shift your legs.

You turn your head to glance at Max. He’s already awake, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone, his hair still a mess from sleep. He looks over at you when he notices you stirring, his mouth curling into a soft smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you mumble, voice still thick with sleep. You shift under the covers again, wincing as the soreness flares once more. You press your legs together instinctively, hoping it will somehow dull the ache.

Max’s brow furrows. “You alright?”

You pause for a second, debating how much you actually want to admit. But the soreness isn’t something you can brush off, not when every slight movement reminds you of it. You let out a small sigh and tilt your head to look at him.

“I’m … sore,” you admit, biting your lip. “Really sore.”

Max’s lips twitch, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. “Sore where?”

You give him a look, half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “You know where,” you grumble.

He chuckles softly, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I might need a little more detail. I’m a driver, not a mind reader.”

You can’t help but laugh, though it’s mixed with a groan as you shift your hips again. “You know,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. “There.”

Max raises an eyebrow, still amused, but then his expression softens with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” you say quickly, wanting to reassure him. “It’s not that. I guess I just … overdid it. Denim can be rough.”

Max nods, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Wait here,” he says, sliding out of bed with the ease of someone who’s used to early mornings and late nights in uncomfortable places. You watch as he rummages through his luggage on the floor, tossing aside various items before pulling out a small tube of ointment.

“What’s that?” You ask, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Max returns to the bed, sitting on the edge. “This? It’s some kind of cream I used for a cut I had a while back.” He holds up the tube for you to see, the words on it clearly medicinal. “I think it might help.”

You hesitate, unsure. The idea of Max applying anything down there is both intimate and a little embarrassing. But the soreness is getting worse, and the thought of relief is too tempting to ignore.

“You trust me?” Max asks softly, his eyes locking with yours.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I do.”

Max smiles at that, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before squeezing a small amount of the ointment onto his fingers. “Let’s take care of you, then.”

You shift slightly on the bed, opening your legs a little to give him room. Your breath hitches as he moves closer, his touch gentle and careful. His hand slips beneath the covers, fingers finding the tender spot with a sensitivity that makes you melt.

“You sure this is okay?” He murmurs, his gaze flicking to yours for reassurance.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, though the feel of his fingers, even in this innocent context, has your pulse racing.

Max is slow, deliberate, applying the ointment with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His touch is cool at first, but then the warmth from his skin mixes with the soothing sensation of the ointment, and your body starts to relax. The ache begins to ebb away, replaced by a gentle, comforting warmth.

“Better?” He asks after a few moments, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You can only nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the tension leaves your body. But it’s not just the relief from the soreness that’s making you feel this way. It’s the way Max is touching you — careful, considerate, and yet undeniably intimate. You hadn’t expected something as simple as this to feel so … intense.

Max’s fingers continue their slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, though his voice is huskier now, like he knows stopping isn’t something you’re going to ask for.

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses a little more firmly, the friction now bordering on something else entirely. The tenderness is still there, but now, so is something deeper, something stirring inside you that you can’t ignore.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

He doesn’t respond with words, just a small smile as his thumb grazes over your clit, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He’s not trying to push you, not really, but his touch is becoming more deliberate, more focused.

And you’re unraveling.

The gentle pressure of his fingers, the slow circles he’s tracing, the way he’s watching you so intently — it’s all too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You shift your hips, instinctively seeking more, and Max’s eyes darken as he registers your need.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the same spot again, drawing another gasp from you. “Does it feel good?”

You nod, unable to find the words. Your body is responding without permission, a slow burn building in your core, the ache from earlier completely forgotten now. It’s been replaced by something else — something hot and electric, coursing through you with every touch.

Max leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

You can barely think straight, let alone articulate what you need, but you manage a breathless, “More.”

His fingers move with more purpose now, pressing harder, rubbing in just the right way that makes your body arch toward him, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the pleasure mixing with the relief, and you feel like you’re coming undone in his hands.

Max watches you, his eyes dark and intense, clearly enjoying the way you’re responding to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just let go.”

And you do. You let go of the last bit of restraint you’ve been holding onto, your body trembling as the tension builds higher and higher. Max’s hand never falters, his touch steady, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re breathing faster now, your heart racing in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, spreading through your body like wildfire. It’s too much, too intense, and yet you need it, need him.

“Max,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as the pleasure surges through you. “I’m-”

“I know,” he whispers, his thumb pressing down just right, and it’s all it takes to send you spiraling.

Your body clenches, the release crashing over you in waves as you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand. Max holds you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you’re left trembling, your body spent and your mind blissfully blank.

When it’s over, you collapse against the pillows, panting, your heart still pounding in your chest. Max pulls his hand away, careful and gentle, and leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, his voice full of warmth and affection.

You manage a weak smile, still catching your breath. “Better. Much better.”

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ prada jungwon }

pairing: idol! jungwon x f. reader

contents: masturbation, sexting, cum play if you squint, soft-dom! jungwon, needy! reader, p in v, protected sex, kissing, making out, slight overstimulation, aftercare & fluff at the end <33

synopsis: idol jungwon who’s gone most of the night looking absolutely DELICIOUS at the prada event so you send some risky texts because he looks so hot you’re getting turned on. this leads to him coming home and fucking you.

i enjoyed writing this i hope you guys enjoy reading it ^_^ (w.c. 1.7k)

you and jungwon had been together for awhile now, so you were used to his hectic schedule and him being gone late at night or all night long. this doesn’t mean it sucked any less having him away from you so often. jungwon had only been home for two days before he had to turn around and spend practically all day at some prada event. it was nearing 10pm and jungwon had already been gone for hours. you kept seeing photos of him popping up on your feed and he looked so good.

his hair has been styled in an edward cullen esque fashion, exposed forehead and hair quiffed messily. a sleek black turtleneck sitting snug on his toned body, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. black slacks and belt to match. he looked so fucking hot. and he was out having fun, looking so good, and here you were sitting in your shared bed chewing on your lip as you watched clips of your boyfriend walking around the prada store. there was one video in particular you couldn’t take your eyes away from, a short five second video that had your thighs clenching and heat starting to pool between your legs. he was just trying on some sunglasses, something completely innocent but he looked. so. damn. good. and in this moment all you wanted was his cock nestled inside of you as he fucked you silly.

with your phone in one hand, your free hand falls to the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside to apply pressure to your clothed heat. you hum lightly at the feeling, bringing your hand back up to slip past your underwear and directly onto your heat. you start moving your fingers slowly, paying extra attention to your clit. quiet moans start slipping past your lips and you begin to crave more. you remove your hand from your bottoms just long enough to shimmy them down and off of your legs. you spread your legs wider, not being constricted by the fabric of your shorts anymore. your hand dips back down, fingers circling over your drenched hole, you slide one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself, moans starting to pick up in volume as you imagine your boyfriends fingers in place of yours. your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger move’s expertly in and out of you. you add in a second finger, the stretch feeling so good but still not as good as when it’s your boyfriends fingers instead. your body begins to shudder every so often, your high getting close. you decide to remove your fingers from your hole, and move them up to your aching clit. rubbing circles as your whole body begins to shake, moans tumbling out of your mouth as your orgasm hits. your fingers begin to slow down as you ride out your high, still panting from the initial hit.

as your orgasm finishes, an idea pops into your head. you grab your phone off the bed, it sitting face down next to you as it had fallen from your hand at some point. you open your messages app and pull up jungwons contact. you press the camera icon, opening up the application. you take your other hand a slide it up your heat, collecting your juices. your body jolts slightly, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. you angle the phone to where you can see your bottom half in the screen, fingers resting on your mound. you hit the record button, showing off your shiny, wet pussy. then spending some time showing off your slick that’s on your fingers, slightly separating them to see a string of slick attached between the two. you angle to phone up to your face, bringing your other hand up at the same time. and you place your fingers in your mouth suckling on them slightly, then removing them with a pop. you press end video, watching your masterpiece before sending it to jungwon.

y/n: [attachment: 1 video]

y/n: i need you so badly right now wonie

you send an extra message with it, anxiety and excitement coursing through your veins as you watch the screen intently. waiting for his response. your eyes scan the screen nervously, finally seeing the small words “read 10:12pm” appear underneath your message. you chew on your lip nervously awaiting his response. you see three dots pop up indicating he is typing, then they go away, and for a moment, nothing. they finally pop up again after what feels like an eternity, and a message follows shortly there after.

won: i’ll be there shortly.

heat rises to your cheeks as you read the message. you weren’t expecting him to drop everything to come back home just because of your message. you lock your phone and wait in anticipation. about 20 minutes go by, and you finally hear the front door unlocking, opening and then closing. you feel as though all your senses are heightened. hearing every small noise made and feeling every vibration in the house. you see your boyfriends shadow appear at the door, causing you to look up and see him standing there, leaning against the doorframe. looking even sexier than he did in the videos.

“you could’ve gotten me in trouble y/n, what if my manager or one of the members had seen that?” he starts off with a light scolding before making his way over to you. your lip finds its way back under your teeth as you analyze his every move. you’re still sitting against the headboard, pantless, knees tucked to your chest slightly. he stops in front of you, towering over your sitting figure, and grabs your chin forcing you to look up at him. he takes your bottom lip under his thumb, pulling it from between your teeth, before lightly swiping it across the skin of your lip. he moves his hand to your cheek, caressing it slightly as you lean into his touch. “you’re so responsive, you really are needy for me huh?” he says. you nod eagerly, he leans down connecting his lips to yours in a kiss.

the kiss started off slow but picked up fairly quickly. before you knew it, your tongues were fighting for dominance and jungwon was leaning over top of you, at some point you ending up on your back. he broke from the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and the exposed parts of your collar bones. his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt, “lets take this off yeah?” he says, you give him a nod, allowing him to remove your shirt from your body. his eyes immediately raking over your bare chest. “no bra? you planned this didn’t you?” he chuckles slightly. the hardness to his voice sending shockwaves straight to your core. “i-i didn’t… you just looked so good tonight won” you reply. he shakes his head at you, still chuckling slightly. he leans up off of you to rid himself of his own clothes. you rake your eyes down his entire body, mouth watering slightly at the sight of his hard cock.

he digs through the drawer of the nightstand to pull out a condom. quickly opening it and sliding it on his length. “i assume i don’t need to prep you as it seems you already did that yourself” he raises his eyebrow at you, and you nod shyly, heat rushing to you cheeks. he leans back over you, aligning his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushing inside you. you moan loudly, the feeling of him stretching you being absolutely euphoric. he groans slightly at the feeling of his cock being squeezed so well by your tight cunt. eyes squeezing shut as his head rolls back before coming around to face you again. his arms are planted on either side of you, your hands gripping his biceps, nails digging in slightly as he starts to move.

his thrusts pick up speed fairly quickly, and pretty soon you both are a moaning mess. jungwon taking time to lean down and kiss you ever so often, whispering praises in your ear about how well you’re taking him. his head falls into the crook of your neck, your arms wrapped around him as you hold him close. he’s still fucking into your cunt, his pace never faltering. he feels you start clenching around him signaling that your getting close, he brings his head up from your neck to pepper kisses on your face, before landing on your lips. he kisses you passionately, one of his hands traveling down to your heat, and rubbing circles on your clit as he thrusts into you. you moan into the kiss, panting ever so slightly at the same time.

you feel your muscles begin to tighten and everything starts to feel too good, and before you know it your orgasm comes crashing down on you. legs shaking, and moans spilling past your lips. jungwon continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high while helping you ride out yours. you begin to feel overstimulated as his thrusts get sloppier, his own high about to hit. “s’ t-too much wonie” you cry out, fingers raking down his back. “be a good girl and take it” he says back to you. his hips finally start to stutter as he cums, his seed filling up the condom. his thrusts finally slow, and you can finally catch your breath. his pulls his cock out of you, and you whine at the loss of fullness, clenching around nothing.

jungwon peels the condom off, tying it before throwing it away. he throws his underwear back on and goes to the bathroom briefly enough to grab a towel. he makes his way back over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, parting your legs enough to clean up the mess you guys had made. your body shudders slightly, sensitivity still evident. he tosses the towel into the hamper, and opens a drawer to your dresser, grabbing you a fresh pair of underwear. he slides them onto you, grabbing your shirt and shorts, and putting them onto you next. he climbs back into the bed next to you, laying down and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close as you nestle your head into his chest. he caresses your head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“thank you for coming home for me wonie” you smile up at him. he smiles back, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “you’re welcome sweetheart, this was way better than that after party anyways.”

.

.

.

[moonstruckme]

It is I, person who asked about the bad car crash one. I have read the one you said! And while yes I think the car crash you described is bad I was wondering if you could do one that's... Worse-? Idk 😅 if not I totally understand lmao.

No I think I get you, thanks for requesting and hope you like it!

cw: car accident, concussion, mention of blood, I already know this is not very accurate, but I did not have it in me to do all the research when I wrote this. Sorry and hope it doesn’t hinder your reading experience </3

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Your own breaths are the loudest sound, which can’t be right. Surely there should be alarms, or screaming, or something. Up until a second ago, the screeching of tires and metal was loud enough to deafen you. 

Your car door squeaks brokenly, a sad echo of the racket from before. The air around you shifts as it comes open, and a moment later there are cold fingers pressing into your jaw. 

You make a low whining sound. “Hey,” you complain. Your lips move oddly, murmuring where you mean to speak. 

“Hi,” a voice behind you replies smoothly. “I’m Sirius, I’m with NHS. Is your neck or back hurting at all, gorgeous?” 

“No. You’re cold.” 

“Lovely. This is my friend Remus, he’s going to push on your hands.” 

A head appears in front of you, upside down and shooting an exasperated look towards the disembodied voice. You don’t understand how these people are moving around so quickly, without you noticing them coming. 

“Hello.” The other man’s—Remus’—gaze softens as he meets your eyes. “Can you tell me if you feel this?” He prods at your hand. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your heart is starting to move in your chest, thudding against your ribs like it wants to hurt you. 

“Alright. Can you try pushing up on my hands, please?”

You do. He nods approvingly, giving you a little smile. 

“Good girl. We’re good, Sirius.” 

The cold hands release your face, and you breathe a sigh of relief. It makes your chest ache dully. 

“Beautiful. We ready to move?” 

“Yup.” That’s a third voice, distinct from the others and somewhere you can’t see it. “We’re all set.” 

“Let me just—” Remus’ hands come up around your waist and back, his grip firm, near to bruising. “Okay, I’ve got her. We’re going to unbuckle you and lift you out, okay? Just stay nice and still for us.” 

You’re confused as to what he means, but apparently your silence is consent enough. You feel the buckle of your seatbelt click, and then you’re falling up, Remus’ hold tightening further as he stops your ascent to lift you sideways. 

It’s not until you’re out of the car that you realize you were upside down. Your head feels better, though not by much, and the sun glares at you like it’s punishing you for a wrong you don’t remember having committed. Your arm, suddenly and to your horrified surprise, is in agony. 

A pitchy scraping sound tears from your throat, what would have been a scream if you had the air for one. 

“Here we go, just—yeah—” the third voice speaks as something comes up under your back. “There we are. It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“We’ll get you on pain meds in just a second, doll,” Sirius promises. Someone adjusts your legs so they’re both on the cot, careful of your searing arm, and then you’re moving, the sky shifting above you until you’re looking up at a gray ceiling instead. Time is an odd, fluid thing, marked only by actions and various pains. 

“When did you get here?” you mutter, to no one in particular. 

The third voice is the one to answer you. It’s accompanied by a thick pair of glasses and a sweet face, eyes flickering between you and some equipment he’s messing with. “Just a few minutes ago.” 

“I don’t…I didn’t hear the sirens.” 

He smiles like you’re funny. “Yeah, I think you might’ve been unconscious for that part.” 

You wrack your brain. You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the screeching on the road and then being in your car. Then again, you feel half as though you could be dreaming right now. 

Something sharp bites into your hand. You whimper, the pain small but only adding to every other hurt that’s already far over your threshold. 

“I know,” Sirius shushes you, sticking something to your hand. “I know, babe, but this is going to help soon. You’ll see.” 

“So far I’ve got a concussion, open fracture of the wrist, several lacerations to the face and chest, and bruising around the knees.” Remus’ voice is an odd combination of soft and businesslike. You have a creeping sensation he’s talking about you. “Am I missing anything?” 

“Possible bruising around the chest,” Sirius says. “She was breathing funny earlier.” 

“Right. Hey, love,” Remus voice gentles as he addresses you, “I’m going to move your shirt down to see if your chest is hurt, alright? I’ll be careful, it won’t take long.” 

“Okay,” you manage weakly. 

“Thank you.” He uses both hands to stretch the collar of your shirt, tutting quietly to himself at whatever he sees. He lifts a stethoscope from around his neck, rubbing the metal on his hand for a moment before setting it to your chest. 

You don’t know what he’s listening for, but you’re distracted when the third paramedic—the one with the glasses—starts running what feels like a wet wipe over your forehead. 

“Just cleaning you up a bit,” he says brightly. “Figure we ought to have you looking your best for whoever ends up stitching you up, yeah?” 

“James.” Sirius’ tone is somewhere between chiding and joking and fond, an entanglement of meanings you quite can’t wrap your pounding head around. “Don’t talk like she’s not already stunning. You can hardly improve upon perfection.” 

“Too true,” the other boy agrees readily. 

“Take a breath in for me, please,” says Remus, seemingly ignoring the other two and seemingly also used to doing so. “Just as deep as you can.” 

You try. You do your best, and as your lungs expand the dull ache worsens and worsens until a sharp pain pierces your middle. The air whooshes out of you in a dry sob. 

The stethoscope leaves your skin, and Remus fixes your shirt collar, putting it back in place. Your chest radiates a terrible, throbbing hurt. 

“It’s okay,” James says. His finger brushes your cheek, swiping at wetness you didn’t realize was there. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.”��

“At least a couple of broken ribs,” you hear Remus mutter to the others. Somehow, impossibly, it makes the pain worsen. 

“What’s happening?” you choke out. 

“You’re in an ambulance,” James tells you kindly. “You were in a car accident, and I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but we’re here to take care of you. We’re going to make sure you’re okay, and then get you to the hospital so they can finish fixing you up. You’ll be alright.” 

The explanation takes you a while to process, but even then your tears don’t seem to want to slow. Your chest pangs with each hitch in your breathing. Eventually Sirius starts talking you through taking slower breaths, trying to calm you down. 

Someone wipes at your face with a small square. It stings, and it comes away light red with your blood and tears. 

“I know it’s scary,” Remus murmurs, “but you’ve already done so, so well. We only have to splint your arm so it doesn’t move and clean some of your bigger cuts, and then we can go to the hospital. Can you let us do that, please? Will you be okay?” 

You take in a ragged breath. “Yeah,” you reply. 

“There we are.” James takes your head between his hands. Something about his grip reassures you. He touches his lips to your forehead, like it’s natural, like it’s nothing. “You’ve got this, sweetheart. Just need you to be brave for us a little while longer.”

[ajortga]

blurred lines

pairing: wednesday addams x supernatural!fem reader

word count: 5.1k

summary: wednesday has always thought she was destined to live alone without love, that is, until you come along, with a few negative first impressions.

-

“En garde.”

You pull the mask over your face, blowing the bangs out of your face, positioning yourself as students gather around. 

“Prete,”

You face your opponent, both catching your breaths. It was the last round, the score was tied, seven to seven, and this round was the tie-breaker. 

Wednesday faced you, the mask covering her stoic face as she calculated her moves to do. She couldn’t lose to you. She wouldn’t let it happen. Sure she had lost, once. 

But the Addams never lose. It made Wednesday feel vulnerable if she did.

“Allez!”

Immediately, Wednesday lunges towards you, aiming for your stomach. You dodge her, moving to the side as you both begin to try and succeed. It’s silent, the occasional gasps and murmurs of who may win flooding around the circle.

After a few long seconds of dodging, grunting, and clashing sabres, you start to notice Wednesday’s tactics. She rotates clockwise each time she misses another hit since you take at least 2 seconds to get back up. So as you jump back from another lunge, you make sure to bend your knees as you charge diagonally.

The whistle blows as your sabre barely grazes her uniform.

“Halt!” 

You pant, taking off your mask as everyone gasps. You had just beaten Wednesday Addams. 

Gosh did it feel good to feel your hair breathe, looking around at shocked faces. Particularly the one that stood in front of you, taking off her mask and her eyebrows furrowing as the professor raises your arm, “Y/N wins the point, meaning she has won the match.”

Okay..

-

“That was so awesome!” Enid says, looking quite ecstatic. “Wednesday was like pow poom poom! But you were like, no, pow pow pow! You should’ve seen yourself! You were basically flying in the air!”

“It was not that dramatic,” you huff, giggling a little and walking to the quad with her, “I didn’t even want to go against her, I seriously feel like she despises me. I only went up because everyone started making me pressured to go there.”

It was true, when you first transferred to the school, something in Wednesday made her feel sick. You were a lot better than her in everything, and though you were the complete opposite of Bianca, whom always wanted to challenge her, Wednesday had the urge to prove herself.

It started when you answered Mrs. Thornhill’s question within seconds. A question that required at least a few minutes of calculating. She could swear she cracked her pencil in half as she immediately looked up with bulging eyes.

She didn’t know what the feeling was. She was always at the top of her class. It made her intrigued by you. And she’d kill anyone who said it was admiration.

Wednesday Addams did not admire anyone. It was a stupid word that had a stupid meaning. 

-

“She’s some sort of mastermind,” Wednesday grits, pacing around her room as Thing taps around her bed. “First, she beats me at questions, and now fencing? She’s asking me for death.”

Thing doesn’t respond, making Wednesday turn to him. “What do you want now?” He makes a gesture with his hands as it takes the girl to process what he means.

“You stupid pathetic-” She grabs Thing, shaking him.

“Weds!” 

Enid’s voice makes Wednesday immediately put down the hand, looking at her. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’d be out shopping with your friends.”

The colorful short hair girl looks around, “Well, it’s been two hours, but I’m here now. And I brought a friend! I hope you don’t mind!”

Oh god. She’s gonna see the end of it. “Enid, one of you is already bad enough. How bad is it going to be if you bring a-” She turns around to see that the friend was you.

Oh.

“Wednesday, this is Y/N, Y/N, Wednesday.”

At this point, you both knew who the other was.

You look around awkwardly, giving a lopsided smile that didn’t really look like a smile. Was it nice to meet her? You didn’t know.

Wednesday’s eyes that stared into yours looked to the side, “I know. You’re interrupting my writing time.”

Enid, being next to you, immediately furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t writing when we came in.”

“And why are you the judge of that?”

“We aren’t going to bother you.”

“Your presence already bothers me,” Wednesday says stoically, for some reason you felt like that was directed to you more than Enid.

You elbow Enid gently, “Let’s just go, we can crash at Yoko’s maybe.”

“Sure.”

As Wednesday hears the door close, a part of her that won’t go away itches at her, wishing that maybe she could’ve let you guys stay.

..

After your magic lessons and school overall, you always found yourself in the library. It was peaceful, filled with books, even random cats roaming on tables. 

By the end of each day, to say the least, you were burnt out. 

As you studied, you glanced at a plant near the window, slowly crackling. With no sun, how could it grow? It was gloomy here at Nevermore. 

You placed a bookmark on your book and pushed it aside, focusing on the plant. Soon enough, it slowly drifted towards you, and plopped on your desk.

..

The doors of the library slightly opened and closed as Wednesday stepped in. Her hands were filled with cases and files of the Hyde, and well, many people of interest.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t stand Enid’s pop music, so she resorted to the library, looking for a place to sit.

She turned left, went straight, turned a corner, then turned back when she was met with a familiar figure.

An “oh,” fell from her lips as she watched your figure studying the plant rather than your actual work. You brought it closer to you, and then she saw the brittle plant begin to grow back to life, turning into a blue flower.

Something deep inside Wednesday’s chest twisted–she should be hating you.

-

A few days later, Wednesday was in the middle of her investigations. It was evening, and she was in her dorm the whole day alone, papers scattered everywhere, an evidence board up, an exhausted Addams.

A click of a door sounded as the girl turned around to be met with you and Enid. 

“Weds!” The girl next to you hollers, “We’re having a girls night tonight. You should totally join, a sleepover, smores, study hall, gossip-”

“I’m going out tonight for the Hyde,” Wednesday says, flipping through the pages.

“The Hyde?” You ask, looking between her and Enid.

“Stay out of this,” she snaps.

You narrow your eyes, brushing the topic off as you look at the item behind her. “Is that seriously a decapitated hand?”

Thing raises his fingers at you, tapping on the desk he was on.

Immediately he feels himself be lifted up as you bring him closer, who’s currently floating. Wednesday tries not to watch but she turns to look at her companion that is now placed into your hands. 

Most people would scream, instead, you look at him closely. “Hello, little one. I’ve never seen a creature like you before. What’s your name?”

The hand makes a few gestures, before you nod slowly. “Thing,” you mumble, testing his name on your tongue. “Suits you, you make me want to stitch you a little hat for Christmas.”

You place him back down, but instead, he jumps on your head.

“He never did that to me before!” Enid says, laughing as Thing happily rests on your head.

Wednesday can’t remember Thing doing that to her either when she first met him.

She keeps attention on her work as she speaks, “So, Y/N. How heavy can you lift?”

“Um.. My arms can handle maybe f-”

“I meant,” Wednesday gestures with her hands.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” You respond, taking one of Enid’s books as it drifts towards you and flips through the pages, before putting it away. “Usually anything I try lifting is able to lift, but if I’m being honest, I’ve only lifted lighter things. When it’s heavier, it’s like you need to put more effort to lift, and if it’s farther it goes the same for that.”

Wednesday slowly nods, looking away.

-

In the midst of night, the braided hair girl, wearing a snood, explores the dark forest. She had to prove that the Hyde wasn't a figment of her imagination.

A soft rustling noise sounded in the distance as Wednesday listened. She walked a little faster, coming across a tree with scratch marks. She nibbled her lip, taking out her camera to take a photo, before placing it back into her bag.

The sounds of leaves crackling grew newer, and before Wednesday knew it, she was met with.. You and Enid?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Enid whispered, looking freaked out. You just looked around, looking like you were just there for moral support.

“I told you, I’m looking for the Hyde. Gosh, Enid, I thought you were the Hyde.”

“Do you seriously just go out at night with no sense of self-protection?” You ask, shivering. It was freezing out here.

“It’s for the thrill,” she responds, her eyes slowly relaxing as she sees your shaking form. “And did you seriously go out at night in the cold with no jacket?”

“Well I only dressed for where I thought I was going to end up for the night,” you groan, kicking a rock on the floor.

“You two should probably leave, it’s dangerous out here.”

“Then why are you out?”

“Because I’m looking for-”

“I know, but shouldn’t you at least be more careful?”

Before Wednesday could respond, a loud growl sounded in the distance, thumps getting closer and closer.

“Mierda,” Wednesday breathed out, taking you and Enid by the collar and dragging you behind the tree. “We need to get out of here, I think it can distinguish us, damn it, it’s your perfume Enid.”

You pull out a perfume bottle and spray it onto a piece of paper you had in your backpack. “Okay, I need you guys to carry me while I do this. It’s a little risky, but I’d rather do this than die.”

“I don’t think-” 

“Wednesday, let’s just do it,” Enid hisses as they both lift you up, Wednesday wrapping onto your torso as she sees the piece of paper fly away in your thoughts command.

Surprisingly, you were really light as Wednesday held you. And as the paper drifted farther and the Hyde chased after it, you suddenly grew exhausted. Where even were you again?

It was something you had struggled with, being able to withstand how far your abilities could go. And now that the item was far away and out of vision, your head began to pound and your eyes almost rolled back, like it was chasing the paper.

By the time the two girls carried you through the gates of Nevermore, your hand was twitching and you were close to looking lifeless.

“Y/N?” Wednesday shakes you, making you mumble the most incoherent noise she’s ever heard. “I think she’s tired out too much,” the girl says, carrying you inside her dorm. 

She placed you on the bed, but you were clinging onto her like a lifeline, your eyes fluttering in and out.

“Let go of me,” the goth says, and Enid sits by. Eventually, Wednesday is next to you, eyes pointed as she sighs. “Why did you do that? We could’ve made it out if you didn’t.”

Unfortunately, you were a little too tired to respond, shrugging in replacement. 

-

In the span of the next few days, Wednesday felt her feelings about you slightly shift. Was it in a good way? She didn’t know.

Mrs. Thornhill had moved seats, and of course, you were seated by her. 

At first, it had ticked her off, the way you looked curiously at the plants more so than the lesson.

Then she started noticing the way you looked intrigued in your notes, eyebrows knitted as you scribbled neat words on your notebook. 

“What are you writing?” Wednesday whispers, “She’s going over important information, Y/N.”

“The Declaration of Independence,” you say, smugly, before scratching your head as the girl gives you an unimpressed look. “She went through this yesterday, if I had a good pair of ears yesterday, then I won’t need them for this.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You turn to look at her as the bell rings for lunch. You stand up, walking to the doorway for lunch as she follows. “Why do you want to know?”

One of Wednesday’s eyebrows lifted, annoyed.

“Fine, I’m writing a letter to my older self.” You say, putting down your pen. “I like reflecting on how I’ve grown and I just talk about everything here, my favorite songs, people, things to do, goals I want to pursue by the next time I read it again, what I want to do in life, really anything.”

Your words weren’t what Wednesday thought they’d be as she blinks twice. She’s silent for a moment before she nods thoughtfully, “I see. That sounds.. Eventful. I didn’t think you’d be the writing type.”

You shrug, “Me neither.”

For once, you and Wednesday look at each other, a soft look on both of your faces.

Writing to your future self was stupid, she thought.

-

4/16

Dear Wednesday,

You attend Nevermore academy, you have been here for a year. And in that year, you have met many people, dare I say good ones for some? No. But you did meet some. I play the cello, I read. Is this boring enough? You met someone new. Her name is Y/N. She seems to beat you at everything, even the ones you thought you were good at. I feel almost annoyed, yet I can’t say much, considering the fact that she had tired herself out to save Enid and I. You like classical music, not Enid’s pop ear-bleeding ones. The less words, the better. As much as I love academics, I feel a sense of dread attending classes knowing I’ll be beaten. Where’s the fun in that?

6/24

Dear Wednesday,

You still like classical music, I must say nothing has changed. The case of the Hyde is still a mystery to be solved. Pugsley had visited, I’m thankful that little one has finally been aware how to fend up for himself, although I always do have a few tricks up my sleeve if he needs them. The month of the Poe Cup is arriving. The black cats had won last year, but merely because of our tricks. I’m almost shocked to say I’m excited, of course, not as close to watching horror movies. Of course not. I sometimes wonder if Y/N would join, would she be completely against it, then cave in like I once was? Or would she be the one to ask? Oh what could I be saying? I wonder if she would join the black cats at all. 

6/27

Dear Wednesday,

Y/N is on the black cats, I’m not excited. Though I do think she will carry the trophy for us all. I have faith in us three. 

7/2

Dear Wednesday,

We won the Poe Cup for the second time this year. She was the star of the show, she’s fast. We ask her to to poke a hole on a boat, she pokes 3 that even we didn’t see. We expect her to row her paddle fast, she somehow does, along with using 3 tree stumps. She’s a mystery to be solved. I’m carrying my mother's legacy, is this the start of a new streak?

10/5

Dear Wednesday,

The weather is growing colder, the seasons are changing and Jericho feels like a crisp breath of air. Y/N had written me poetry. But as the week progresses, she seems to be hiding a secret from me I can’t figure out It feels raw. Sincere. I’m learning the cello piece I overheard her talking about. Well, it’s not meant for the cello but we’ll make it work. She and Enid have been my company during nights when I’m searching for the Hyde. Nights where I’m alone, they fill the dark, and my sorrows have gone. Suddenly, the blank ideas for my novel have vanished. I just can’t figure out why. 

10/13

Dear Wednesday,

Today is my birthday. And I think I understand why I thought Y/N was hiding something from me. She had gotten me a gift. I’m not sure why it had made me smile in the moment but it did. She had crocheted me a black cat, I remember seeing a white one on her desk and I was so intrigued by it that I asked her what it was. Now I have one of my own. Maybe that’s why they call it happy birthday.

10/25

Dear Wednesday,

Y/N has been helpful with our search for the Hyde, I think I’m going to take her along with my searches at night so she can help me lure the creature. I’m getting one step closer everyday she tags along. Her and I search the forests of Jericho till 2 hours after midnight sometimes.

10/28

Dear Wednesday,

Something in my chest tells me that Y/N is growing more tired by the day. I’m starting to feel worried. I shouldn’t let her abilities get out of control, shouldn’t let her stay so late knowing that she’s probably 2 times more exhausted than I am. 

-

It was true, Wednesday had noticed that you began to feel drained out. 

At first, they were small things, not fully comprehending a conversation, a small yawn every half hour or so. 

But then Wednesday would see the bags under your eyes, your dozing off in class, missing out on Nevermore events. 

Yet you still came with her every Hyde search. You felt like wanted you to come so she could talk to you, and if it was, sleep was something you could push aside.

And before she knew it, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time when Wednesday was in her dorm, talking to Enid.

“She’s clearly tired, Weds, I think you should let her rest.”

“But I’m so close to finding-”

You peek through the door crack.

“She’s only tagging along on the searches because she wants to be with you,” Enid says, her voice assuming. “Don’t you think you should stay with her here for one night so she can recharge? I know you like being with-”

“Enid, your reasoning is incorrect.” Wednesday mumbles, trying to deny what Enid wanted to imply. “I’m solely focused on finding out who the Hyde is, and Y/N is the only person who can do that for me. She’s one of the only students in this school that can do it. I’m not taking her because of my preferences.”

But even Wednesday’s voice was unsure, because she felt that deep inside, there was something lodged inside of her that enjoyed your late night thoughts.

That wasn’t the case for you as you bit your lip as Wednesday went on. “I don’t see anything in her-”

Your heartbeat was erratic, anxious. You were so blinded by her that you couldn’t even tell she was using you. She didn’t even like you.

Before you could hear more, you slipped back into the shadows, silently promising yourself that you’d shut yourself from everybody tonight, from her. just like how you always would so you could be alone.

-

Wednesday knew something was up. The next few days went by in a haze. 

You would avoid her in the hallways, look at anywhere but at her during class, give her tight lipped; one response answers to her questions.

A day became a few, and Wednesday felt like she had done something wrong. She couldn’t help but realize how much she missed your stupid grin and the completely immersed look on your face whenever she was talking. 

You didn’t go out to help her search for the Hyde anymore. You didn’t know if she had even gone on her journeys.It seemed like most times when you weren’t in school, you were sleeping. But Wednesday never believed that was what it was.

Night approached, and soon enough, the raven haired girl pulled up her snood and crept out the gates of Nevermore. She had heard small pitter patters behind her as she kept her eyes straight forward. “You’re not coming, Thing. Not today.”

Thing makes a snap of protest, still following her and she stops in her tracks. “No, go. I don’t need your help, I can do this on my own.”

In the midst of the night, the Addams disappear into the deep ends of the forest, a sniffling Hyde not far behind.

-

“What the hell do you mean she went out alone? It’s like, the coldest of the month and she didn’t even bother to take somebody with her?” You stared Thing down, your voice hoarse from trying to whisper loudly.

You shouldn’t be worried, she could take care of herself. 

You just couldn’t get the stupid nagging feeling in your chest that something bad would happen. The same feeling that you felt in the afternoon that kept bothering you, the reason why you wanted to check up on her to find her gone.

“Well, Enid’s out with Yoko, and I don’t think anyone knows about Wednesday’s shenanigans except us.”

You walk out to the open balcony from Wednesday’s dormitory and look out. “What about we just go check on her? Not like I have anything to do anyway.”

Thing shakes his fingers incredulously. 

“You can tag along to make sure I’m okay,” you sigh out.

-

You were only wearing a sweater, minus the fact you were holding Wednesday’s jacket with you so you could give it to her when you saw her. You didn’t want to have her freeze to death.

“It’s a little creepier than I remembered,” you say to your little companion. “Darker, too.”

The rustle of leaves sound here and there, the air blowing right through your clothes as you shiver. You keep Thing closer, wrapping him in Wednesday’s hoodie.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, “you’re basically like any other naked hand and I’m making sure you don’t freeze either, I’ll be fine, got a tanktop under this.”

A very thin one.

The leaves rustling and skidding of footsteps grow closer, a heavy pant sounding in the distance. The breeze, you think.

You keep walking forward, “Wednesday?” The flashlight that you’re controlling, floating next to you skitters around each tree.

“Is it me, or do I not remember hearing other footsteps half the time we searched for the Hyde?” You joke, Thing now clinging onto you.

“Wait a fucking minute.”

The last time you heard footsteps that weren’t yours or Wednesday was when you had first seen the Hyde. 

You look down at the hand with a dawn of realization as the flashlight drops to the ground from your anxiety. And suddenly do you take account of the ground beneath you shaking as the Hyde approaches, its eyes tracking you in the dead of night.

Your wide eyes meet his as your feet take off.

No longer than 30 seconds later does a crying scream ring through the woods.

-

“What the hell do you mean she went out alone?” Wednesday yells, panicking, her heart going miles per minute as a worried Enid stands in the room awkwardly. Her hands trail through her cheeks, thinking, thinking. “I shouldn’t have gone out tonight, I should’ve known-”

Her snood was basically hanging off her shoulder as she tosses it to her bed and runs out to look through the balcony.

“Wednesday, let’s think this through, maybe she didn’t go into the forest-”

“Enid Sinclair, it’s 12:39 AM and you think Y/N and Thing would magically disappear to do something like go get a fucking sandwich?”

“I’m sure they’re okay, they’re together. And come on, you know that she’s been with you endless times before.”

“But she hasn’t came for like 2 weeks! I don’t even think I had gone out searching for the Hyde-”

“I think she’s still upset at you,”

“I know,” Wednesday says, sighing. She doesn’t know why you had gone out tonight, but she was worried.

After short moments of making quick decisions, Wednesday tugs Enid’s hand out of their dorm. “We need to go, I can’t lose her–them.”

..

It had been 10 minutes of searching and no sign of you or Thing. 

Gosh, where are you? 

Wednesday is frantically calling out your name, searching through each tree, her restlessness just growing more. Her eyes that were pointed straight around and ahead of her don’t take account of the flashlight. Her feet are just about to trip on till she actually feels herself tripping.

Her hands are filled with dead leaves as she squints in the pale moonlight, taking notice of a flashlight.

Your flashlight.

She holds it between her palms as she bites her tongue hard, forcing herself to move forward. 

After a few long moments, Wednesday’s wide eyes can be seen in the night as they meet your quivering body curled up against the leaves.

Wednesday doesn’t pay attention to Thing, who's laying atop of you and moving around frantically. She doesn’t pay attention to how badly you're shaking. She only notices how there’s a large gaping scratch tore against your chest that blood trickled out of.

“Why would you go out alone? It’s freezing,” Wednesday says, her voice higher than she could control, her vision messy.

Your hand comes to rest atop of your wound, “I could say the same for you,” you joke softly, but she isn’t rolling her eyes or showing any emotion. 

Instead, her lips are quivering and her eyes are searching all over you. You were wearing her jacket. She would’ve found it amusing, something that made her feel a little happy. But nothing.

“I just felt like I needed to know you were okay,” you say, your eyes drifting in and out. 

“I thought you were dead,” she choked out, picking you up as she realizes just how much blood you’ve lost. It was all over her hands. “Don’t do that ever again, I’m serious. Or else I’ll handle you myself.” The addams says incoherently, shaking the tears out as Enid and Thing follow close behind.

“Wednesday Addams actually cares,” you say, trying to crack another joke with a weak voice.

“Shut up,” Wednesday says, but her voice is raw, not stopping the tears that escape her eyes.  “Just shut up, it’s tiring you out and I can’t have you risking passing out.

She can’t shake the feeling that she’s losing you. 

After a few moments of silence, Wednesday looks back down at your closed eyes. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean it, no please keep talking. You have to keep talking so you can’t go to sleep. Shit, please.” She turned corners, you were so cold. “If you die, I’m not digging a grave for you,” she rasped, trying to keep her demeanor, though it already had fallen.

She keeps shaking you until you make a confused noise, your blood all over her jacket.

Your eyes were half open as you gave her a half-smile. “You’re so bossy, Addams.” Your voice trails off, eyes hazy, not knowing where you were at this point anymore.

Wednesday clutches you closer to her, running past the gates of Nevermore.

-

The beeping of the monitor beside you served as the braided girl’s lifeline. Her hair was tousled, messed up, but there were more things important than her hair, anyway.

Wednesday turned away from it, looking at your resting face. 

“If you died, I would’ve dug a grave for you,” she said, her voice small. “I would’ve dug one and probably not even attend if it meant knowing that I had lost you. Probably would’ve sat next to it for days.”

You give her a silent breath, unconscious.

Thanks.

The next few days, Wednesday had read you her letters. 

“I feel like I should share them with you,” she said, not expecting a response as she flips through the pages. “You are the reason that I’ve started them.”

She reads the pages out loud to your sleeping form, like a night time story.

Her eyes trace each word she had written, ‘I don’t like people touching me. But Y/N makes me not so sure. Her hands are like a soft murmur of sweetness I’m not used to.’

‘She makes me realize how big of a heart somebody can have’

‘I learned a song for her’

‘I learned a poem for her’

‘I wrote a poem for her’

‘She’s like the sun, her personality. I don’t really know how much I need it until I come here all dead. Then she comes and it’s like everything is okay again.’

-

“You better heal faster,” Wednesday says impatiently, sitting next to you. “I said I was sorry almost thirty seven times, I just don’t like sounding stupid in front of other people, even as much as I want to.”

“I literally am dying,” you respond, her words cracking a smile on you nonetheless. You look at the black dahlias on your bedside.

Her hair was down, rolling her eyes. “Well you’ve wasted enough of my time.” She said, though she didn’t mean it. She’d take more days off so someone could look after you.”

“Oh, careful Addams,” you say, putting a hand up in front of you. “Someone might think you’re worried about me,” you whisper.

She takes your hands in hers–her hands are like a soft murmur of sweetness I’m not used to. “Well, I’m not. And if someone thinks that, you better make a piece of tape fly to their mouth,” she says, in denial as she turns away from you.

But you had already seen another side of her. The side that you knew always existed in her. The side that was vulnerable, the quiet weeps of worry when you were close to death, the letters that expressed her apologies.

“Well you already have one person,” you say, your little finger poking her chest. She huffs, but her lips twitch up, “I think you’re hallucinating, then.”

She was glad you were okay. Would she have been months ago? She didn’t know. Would she have crawled into your hospital bed and let you rest against her months ago? Maybe not. But she was now.

Somewhere between the blurred lines, Wednesday Addams had fallen for you.

-

author's note- this was meant to have a angst ending but unfortunately i didn't want people to be sad

[fallow-hollow]

five stages of grief

…ft! kabru x gn! oblivious! reader

…tags! pining, confession, kabru is a bit of a freak about this, oblivious reader, reader is an adventurer

…word count! 2671

…notes! spreading my kabruganda to the masses!!! kabru is my me so I very much enjoy writing him

denial

At first, Kabru was so convinced that there was something behind your happy-go-lucky exterior.

You were so skilled in the dungeon, able to make it down to floors that even he hadn’t traversed yet. So you must have a good grasp on tactics, not only in battle, but also when socializing! Yes, maybe you read people expertly when they’d respond in kind to your friendly behavior…..

During the stage where you’re acquainted but don’t know much about each other personally, he spends so long crafting theories about what’s going on inside your head.

His party members get sick of hearing about it halfway through the second week.

Once you meet again in person, he’s ecstatic to have an opportunity to take a closer look at your inner workings. His words and mannerisms are calm and purposeful, but there is a certain spark in his eyes, almost trying to illuminate your thoughts and feelings with its shine.

Over the course of the conversation, Kabru starts getting a bit confused at his lack of new findings about you. It takes you saying something particularly damning for him to finally reach the dreaded conclusion.

“I don’t usually run into you in places like this.”

Kabru had encountered you one evening after exiting his room and seeing you and a few party members at the bar. It was nothing short of a strike of luck, and most certainly not him deliberately staying home that evening because he’d overheard your plans to go out.

“Hm?” You perked up, looking at him with a blank expression that was quickly replaced with a kind smile. Even trying to look closely, he couldn’t find anything present in your face except for a simple joy.

He would approach you with long strides, placing one hand on the back of your chair as to be friendly and intimate, but not so intimate as to make you recoil from a touch. The wink he gave you was with the eye facing away from the others on the opposite side of the table, ensuring most of them wouldn’t notice his flirtatious gesture.

“Want me to buy you a drink?”

Immediately, you raised one hand in polite refusal, your smile turning into more of a sheepish one. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d be able to pay you back. I wasn’t going to splurge much tonight anyway….”

As you talked, Kabru pulled up a free chair and sat down, a gesture that cemented himself in the conversation and setting. He noticed when he sat down in the middle of conversation, it made people less likely to turn him away than if he were still standing.

“No, no.” when he shook his head, his dark curls did a swishing movement. Once he looked back at you, he gave a half-lidded smile, only a tinge sultry in hopes you’d pick up his hints. “Your company is more than enough payment for me.”

Your party could only stare on with absolute pity as you waved your previously raised hand dismissively, giving what Kabru could only assume was a reassuring nod. Why did you think he needed reassured….? What did you think he meant?

“It’s completely fine, no need to be polite! We’re beyond such niceties at this point, I’d say. After all, I consider us to be at least a little bit friends, right? You don’t need to buy me a drink just to hang out!”

For a brief period, Kabru felt as if his whole world was spinning around him, before then shattering at the unknowing sledgehammer of your words. These statements and mannerisms suggested something far more than just a passive rejection…… no, it was something much darker.

You truly were as dense as a brick wall.

anger

Kabru doesn’t always react….. too calmly when people defy his expectations.

He’s able to keep a smile on his face just fine, but on the inside he’s screaming.

What do you mean there isn’t more? Where’s the scheme? The ulterior motive? The familiar secrets he can unravel and use to his advantage? Is it so bad that he wants there to be more?????

I’ll be honest, the man experiences his fair number of homicidal thoughts about you. In a strangely romantic way!

You’ll be chatting away with him, each remark and flirtation absolutely flying over your head, and inside his mind he’s just going I should gut them right here and sort their bones and vitals by size if they won’t let me dissect them the mental way.

And then seconds later he’ll go haha what was that! Anyway yes tell me more about the cute bird you saw last week.

I think Kabru does a lot of journaling, so he has a fair number of notes about you. Sometimes they’re drawings of you with notes about your appearance and physical mannerisms, other times he writes more free form about his thoughts regarding you. When he gets particularly frustrated, the writing can became scratchy or heavy handed to the point that it’s unreadable or nearly tears the paper.

The silence and solitude of the night was briefly interrupted by Rin rolling over in her sleeping bag. She was just beyond the range of the firelight where Kabru was still writing, and he could only barely see the way she squinted at him through her own tiredness.

“What are you scribbling about so late at night?” The mage would try to start another sentence, but be cut off by a yawn. If she was trying to be intimidating, it certainly wasn’t working. “Go to bed, Kabru, or else you’ll wake up to being sprayed by an undine if I have anything to say about it.”

That was a rather unpleasant thought….. even if the threat wasn’t legitimate, Kabru recognized that he’d probably spent far more time writing than intended. It was embarrassingly easy to get distracted when it came to you….just another thing that irked him about you. Yes…..’irked’. That’s most certainly the word.

“I’ll wrap it up soon, sorry to disturb your sleep, Rin.” With a grumble, the girl rolled back over, leaving Kabru to glance at his notebook for just a brief moment more before closing it. The writing was near illegible, but he still knew the words by heart:

‘I wouldn’t mind if they were scared of me. Maybe, if they sat on the other end of my sword, trembling and wide-eyed like human prey, I’d get to see a truly untouched side of them.’

bargaining

After the shock and rage subsides, Kabru tries to make you realize his feelings through pretty much every method imaginable except for confessing.

It feels like the man always appears at your side, always claiming he ‘happened to be in the area’ or something similar. And you never even question it, infuriatingly for him.

Your party members often tell you that something is up with the guy, that he’s hanging around you a suspicious amount but never being fully transparent, but you’d feel so bad about being suspicious of him when he’s done nothing but inquire about you and even offer gifts on rare occasions!

Kabru isn’t exactly the richest of adventurers, so gifts or treating you isn’t a regular occasion, but it’s certainly something he resorts to as a last ditch effort to try and get you to realize that he’s interested in you romantically.

Once he even tried to offer you a flower, but you still didn’t take the hint.

When you saw the flower in Kabru’s hand that day, your first thought was being so flattered that he remembered your conversation about which ones you both liked.

“Oh, Kabru!” You exclaimed with pure joy, causing the man to become embarrassingly excited that perhaps you had finally noticed the meaning behind all his gestures. Were you finally moved and wowed by his considerate, perfectly planned gift.

Clapping your hands together, you would beam and say, “You liked my favorite flower so much that you wanted to get one for yourself?”

A fly could’ve soared down Kabru’s throat in the time of that pause, but you paid it no mind, instead eagerly awaiting his reply.

The look on Kabru’s face was a completely blank smile, his bright blue eyes seeming to have almost burned out like a pair of oil lamps. Then, as he regained his composure, those lights flickered back on again, albeit wavering slightly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it yourself? If you like it so much, I’d be happy to let you take it home.” Poor Kabru, he should have learned by now that hints have no effect against the impenetrable fortress that is your cluelessness.

Your grin was the nail in the coffin, letting him know you had something in your head that was absolutely not anything he could anticipate from anyone else. “But why not use it as some decoration? Your party members always talk about how sparse your room is, and it could even remind you of me when I’m away! Here—“

You ushered him closer, a hand now on the small of his back giving him sparks that teetered between pleasurable and painful. The free hand gestured to the plant he held so delicately, pointing out different features like the petals, stem, and so on. “I can even tell you some facts about it; that’ll help you enjoy it that much more deeply whenever you see it! And you’ll remember our conversation!”

The way you could be so resistant to his advances yet so sweet to him could be nothing short of torturous sometimes.

depression

For a while, something fairly rare happens to Kabru: he falls into a slump.

He spends a long time in the dungeon, slashing away at monsters as if it might help him clear his head. His teammates notice that he can get more aggressive in combat than usual, but never really ask him about it.

He also becomes more spacey during mealtimes, and while some peaceful silence is nice, having Kabru of all people be so uncharacteristically quiet for so long.

It comes to the point that something similar to an intervention happens one day after dinner.

“What’s up with you, Kabru?” Mickbell wasn’t one to beat around the bush, immediately starting his line of questioning while looking at his teammate, void of mischief or amusement. “You’ve been all broody and silent all week. Can’t just expect us to not ask about it.”

“What Mickbell said,” Kuro concurred almost immediately after.

The tallman did his best to blink away his tiredness and offer a more confident look that he usually used when trying to rally his team under an idea or calm them down. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry that much about me. It’s just something I’ve been personally interested in, so it’s not something you guys need to worry about.”

“A personal problem?” Rin cocked a brow. “If I know anything about what interests you, it’s probably a person.”

“Haha, caught me red-handed like always.” He raised his hands in faux surrender, though Rin didn’t seem to be put at ease by the gesture, so he tacked on another statement. “I was surprisingly stumped on what tactics to use when talking to a certain person, it’s really got me thinking.” Averting his gaze to the side, he could almost conjure an image of your grinning face in the corner of his vision. “It’s pretty exciting, though, so I don’t mind.”

“Ugh, I knew it!” The half foot threw his head back in exasperation, causing Kuro to extend one arm behind him in case he fell. “It’s that brick-headed adventurer you’re getting all cozy with, isn’t it?! What, you thinking of starting a new party?”

While Mickbell was busy stomping his foot to punctuate his accusation, Holm merely hummed. The gnome usually stayed pretty impartial to matters like this, but that didn’t mean he could always resist throwing in a comment or two.

“I’d be stumped too if I thought about human interaction like a battlefield.” His tone of voice remained soft, but his words were still quite pointed. “You really have to be upfront about your feelings sometimes, you know that? At least, if Mick’s description can actually be trusted.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

After those two broke down into petty squabbling, Kabru could merely try his best to mask his realization behind a tight-mouthed grin.

Holm was right, and he hated it more than anything.

acceptance

Okay, this is the part where Kabru actually bites the bullet and talks about his feelings. Truly a miracle of life.

Kabru can have a lot of trouble being fully vulnerable due to feeling like he’s losing control, so he does his best to maintain control over the rest of the outing. He arranges the time, location, even makes sure to get there first. It’s the most he can do to not feel completely helpless at the whims of his own fickle heart.

When you arrive, a new wave of nervousness hits him that’s almost like nothing before. Kabru has slain men without a second thought, and here he is resisting the urge to tremble because he has to tell his crush he likes them.

He starts off with small talk, sort of building up to his confession while also beating around the bush just a little. Asking you how you’ve been, if you’ve done anything noteworthy, if you’ve meet any new people…..

Eventually, Kabru decides that if he waits any longer, he may instinctually try to hide his intentions in the long strings of small talk he’s making, so he finally takes that leap.

He said your name, and your eyes flickered up to his face. Even if you were spacey at times, you never stared past him or through him whenever he was addressing you. It made him feel….strange. It was odd to feel truly perceived at times.

“Can I be….. terribly honest with you?” He cards his fingers through his curls and closes his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful he looked.

“Of course,” you responded without thinking. Not like you ever needed to think twice about your appreciation for the man. More than that, really.

There was stillness, and all you could hear was Kabru’s deep inhale through his nose. He intended to phrase it more eloquently, he really did, but when he opened his eyes again and saw you waiting on his words with baited breath, there was this instinctive fear that maybe this would be his only chance. That you would walk away or disappear, leaving him with only the memory.

He didn’t want just a memory.

“I want you to know that I love you above all else.”

Your mouth hung agape like his had many times in response to your own remarks. Were it not for how shocked he was at his own words, he would have chuckled at how cute you look.

Before he could even scramble to elaborate on his uncharacteristically blunt comment, you blurted out in a similar fashion, voice slightly raised and head perked up,

“You really feel that way?!”

Faced with your blushing face, Kabru could only affirm the feelings that you promoted from somewhere deep within him. “Yes, I’d been trying to win you over for a long time, really.”

If you were flushed before, then now you were nothing short of flooded with embarrassment from ear to ear. Despite this, you were smiling, wobbly and sheepish. “I mean, it’s not like I’m shocked in a bad way or anything — I always thought you were really wonderful, too wonderful for me anyway. I really never thought you were pursuing me of all people!”

For the longest time, your denseness had given Kabru untold grief. Upon seeing you state it so plainly, however, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset. Not when it was one of the things that made you so fascinating.

“I’d sort of figured as such, yeah.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Could we get a follow up to Dealer!Remus and Shy!reader where we get a glimps into their book date? Absolutely loved what you did with their first interaction ✨

Part one wc: 792

You’ve changed outfits at least three times already and you’re not sure if what you’ve got on now will be your last outfit.

Remus texted you half an hour ago to let you know he was on his way for you with a well worn copy of ‘You’ve Reached Sam’ and directions to a cafe that served the best hot chocolate and sticky buns.

You’re pinning your hair down when there’s a rap at your door. “Fuck,” you mutter as you shove your socked feet into your shoes and grab your book off your vanity before rushing down the stairs.

You take a couple seconds to catch your breath before opening the door.

Remus stands before you in a burnt orange sweater that features a black cat on its back kicking up a purple ball of yarn, and dark brown corduroys.

He’s also got a small bouquet of flowers in his hands- baby breaths, pink roses and a couple peonies.

“Hi,” you hope you don’t sound as awkward as you feel. Sure Remus is nice and he’s possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes upon, but it makes him a little more intimidating.

“Hi,” his smile is slow and easily given. “You look lovely.”

He means it too. You’re wearing a red Christmas sweater over a white collared shirt that's got little pink stars on it, a black skirt and ruby red Mary Jane’s with hot pink socks with a star rainbow on the ankle.

In your hands is your prized possession; the last book you’d read that you’d gone home and annotated after you left Remus’ dispensary.

“Thank you,” you motion him inside. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.” You manage the words without tripping over them and for that you’re grateful.

Remus hands them over as you fill a vase, watch as you carefully take them out of the cellophane and snip the ends.

“Ready?” You ask as you look up, finding Remus’ gaze laser focused on you. Dear god, you hope your nose isn’t sweating.

“Yeah,” Remus smiles when you pull the door shut behind you, your perfume floats behind you and he gets a good bit of the cappuccino, whipped cream and caramel scent and decides it’s the only thing he wishes to smell for the rest of his life.

“Do you know which hot chocolate you’re getting?”

You bite your lips as Remus opens the passenger side door for you and shake your head.

You deliberate your words carefully, you fight the urge to nibble on the side of your nails- Mary had just painted them a pretty red for the season.

Your voice is soft and a little quiet, but Remus hears you just fine as he buckles himself into the car.

“I usually get a peppermint one, but I like the classic one to form an opinion.”

Remus nods, a smile on his face as he starts the car.

“That’s a good plan, dove.” The pet name slips out like it’s the most normal thing, and Remus doesn’t miss the way you flip the book over in your lap nervously.

“Did you know there was controversy about the story?” You ask quickly, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear as you hazard a glance at Remus.

“I did not. Can you tell me or will it cloud my judgement?” He catches the barest of smiles on your face and wants to keep it there.

“It might, maybe when you’re finished I’ll tell you and you can let me know if you agree with it or not?”

It comes across flirty and it wasn’t your intention but Remus chuckles softly and nods so you don’t rush to take it back.

“I would love that,” he parks and turns to you as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “I have to forewarn you,”

Your breath hitches, your hands gripping the book in your lap as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“The book does make you cry.”

You breathe out harshly, your eyebrows smoothing out as he smiles at you- all mischief and a little bit of teasing.

“You’re mean, Remus.” He chuckles with a tiny shrug.

“C’mon, let’s go get our treats.”

You spend nearly two hours in the cafe, talking with Remus over a sticky bun and a hot chai instead of chocolate because it went better- per Remus’ suggestion.

In turn he’d taken your suggestion of a hot chocolate and a slice of orange cinnamon coffee cake which he loved.

The date was wonderful, Remus got you an extra sticky bun to go and you’d smiled when he kissed your cheek at your doorstep.

You smiled even more when he didn’t drive off till you shut your front door behind you.

[lewisvinga]

his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter

summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.

word count; 630

warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho🤭🤭🤭

masterlist !

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“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.

“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.

Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.

He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.

Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.

“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“

“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.

“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.

“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”

Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.

Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.

Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”

He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.

Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.

She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.

Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.

[gojorgeous]

how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that. 

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him. 

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you. 

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him. 

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too. 

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go. 

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

 Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.”  You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left.  He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–”  “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?”  He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.” 

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully. 

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts. 

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders. 

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water. 

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary. 

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.”  You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you.  “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…”  He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…”  Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties.  “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…” 

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period. 

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting. 

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks. 

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents. 

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it. 

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask. 

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower. 

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.). 

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.”  You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom.  Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.  “You know you’ll feel better after, love.”  You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?”  He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window.  “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.” 

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out. 

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood??? 

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured. 

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need. 

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store. 

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options. 

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom. 

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…”  You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him.  “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.”  He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.”  The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey.  “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need.  “Down a couple racks.”  Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…”  The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @enchantedsylveon, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki, @myriliy, @complexivelovely

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[krkiiz]

sly swordsman . luke castellan x reader

luke decides to distract you by confessing in the middle of a duel

luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of apollo , luke being head over heels , confessions , fluff , slight teasing

note : sorry if there are lots of mistakes, i wrote this on my phone with nail extensions and it’s so hard to type pls help 😭😭 apologies for grammars n errors, i’ll edit them tmrw hehe (also this is my first time writing pjo n fight scenes so i hope it’s decent!)

let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3

“Let’s go Kayla! Beat his ass!” Shout one of your fellow half-siblings along with boos from the opposing side.

Clanking of swords can be heard from miles away. Today the children of Hermes and Apollo are scheduled to a joint swordsmanship practice. Where the two cabins will have to engage on a 1v1 duel against another.

Right now stands in the center of the battlefield is your half sister Kayla, along with one of Hermes’ son. Kayla is known to be a skilled archer just like any of Apollo’s children. But that doesn’t mean she can’t beat the swift son of Hermes.

The battle ends her sword pointed right at his throat as he gives a sign of defeat to his opponent. The children of Apollo cheers with glee as they congratulate their half sister.

The two retreat, their places soon replaced by none other than their head counselors. Luke and you approach the center of the battlefield as your fellow half-siblings watch in anticipation.

It is so secret that Luke is an outstanding swordsman. As his skills rivals Ares and Athena’s children themselves, you knew he was a challenging opponent.

Well that’s a good thing you love challenges.

“I admit my defeat on our archery battle last week. But now, let me show you how good I am with the blade, Yn.” He smirks as the two of you start circling one another.

“Must’ve hurt your ego, Castellan.” A chuckle left your lips like honey and Luke suppresses the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“Let’s see how good you really are, Son of Hermes.”

The two of you got in your positions, fingers tightly gripping on the sword and the shield, waiting for a sign to charge.

The hornet blows and Luke wastes no time to charge forward. The point of his blade almost piercing the epidermis of your skin before you block him with your own sword.

Luke knows better than to underestimate you. Sure, you are the daughter of the god of Archery, not swordsmanship. But everyone knows that you are an outstanding dancer and you treat the battlefield like it is your stage.

Your movements swift and laced with elegance. It’s always extremely difficult to predict your next moves. Your footing carefully calculated as you deflect all of his upcoming attacks.

Luke is also quick to encounter your offense as he blocks the side your blade that was aiming at his neck.

With such close proximity, Luke can see how the sun compliments your e/c irises. Complimenting every contrast and detail of the pupil.

Gods were your eyes always this beautiful? Were you always this beautiful?

Luke feels himself caught in a trance just for a second before earning back his composure. But one second is enough for you trip his leg leading him to fall right on his back as he looses his grip on his sword.

The sides of your blade nearly makes contact with his neck as you lay above him giving him a look of triumph.

“Yn, have I told you how beautiful you look on top of me right now?” The boy starts causing you to roll your eyes and scoff at his antics.

“Yeah, try again because that’s not going to work on me, Luke.” You press the blade against his adam’s apple causing him to wince slightly.

The crowd wonders on what was happening and why hasn’t Luke gave a sign of defeat knowing well that being under your sword doesn’t give him a good chance at winning.

They fail to see how his right hand is slowly reaching discreetly trying to get ahold of his fallen blade.

Luke lets out a lighthearted chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. “I like you, Yn. Let’s go on a date.”

Now this caught you off guard. “What?”

The sly swordsman took your state to his advantage as he unclasps his knee from your hold and flipped your positions, your sword disregard in the process.

With his blade firm in his right hand, now it’s his turn to reside his sword against your neck, just like you did to him a few seconds ago.

You try fighting back but he just tuts and starts applying more pressure to his blade before you finally give the sign of defeat.

The Hermes cabin roared with glee congratulating their win, knowing that their head counselor will never fail them.

Luke quickly stands his ground giving you a helping hand, in which you accepted with a smile. He pulls you up against him, the sudden movement made you loose your footing but he’s quick to steady you with his free hand placed on your waist.

“So, about that date.”

©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023

[soobnny]

cops and robbers — kim seungmin

trope: kim seungmin x reader | strangers-to-lovers ; use of profanity ; mentions of a one night stand once ; he’s a fuckboy basically summary: fuckboy kim seungmin takes interest in the quiet, photography major who lives just across his dorm. wc: 3.8k words

The first time Kim Seungmin sees you, you have a camera strapped around your neck.

You’re just across his dorm room, hands fiddling on the buttons of your DSLR and eyes shifting where you can get your eyes on, looking.

Probably for something that can be added to your portfolio, he thinks. Not that he cares.

It isn’t all that hard to spot him either. Seungmin is easy to find, with a cigarette lit between his fingers and the smell of smoke vexing your senses. His entire body is leant on the wall, eyebrow slit and all to truly sell the fuckboy character.

You lock eyes when you finally find the source of smoke, and you think for a second to tell him to stop. It’s not what you do. Instead, you shift your attention.

It’s never a good idea to be within distance of boys like him anyway. There are other things to think about, things much more important. Like what you’ll have for dinner, the old pair of shoes you need to replace, your final portfolio.

Sighing, you look down at your camera.

You hope the low ISO 200 can capture whatever the fuck you want to take a photo of tonight—long shutter speeds, white balance on auto, manual mode. You’d be fucked if you didn’t have these settings memorized.

Different for day. Different for night. It’s a hassle, but it’s a hassle you keep up with if you want to graduate.

“You know, it isn’t safe for pretty girls like you to be out this late.”

Raspy. It comes from just behind you, and you have half a mind to turn to face the threat when you’re greeted face to face with a smirking Kim Seungmin. He sounds kitschy, looks kitchsy and it seems like he knows it as well.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine.”

He stares at you for a minute.

“Whatever you say, princess.” The bass of his voice is a little terrifying, but not enough for you to shuffle away.

He would’ve been more if you weren’t hellbent on the idea of finishing your portfolio for the semester. Nothing scares you more than a failing class.

Not even Seungmin.

He doesn’t seem to mind your lack of chalant. He doesn’t really care. The boy has never been the type to stick his nose in other people’s business, talking to others only when necessary. Being annoyingly chatty was reserved for his friends.

In hindsight, starting a conversation with you should’ve been the first outlier he noticed on his sudden shift of behavior. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders and separates himself from you.

He was only out for a smoke anyway.

+

The next time he sees you is after his one-night-stand-gone-wrong.

It’s still at night, just a week later. And you look exactly like the way you were, camera in your hand and an unbothered look on your face.

Though, when you hear footsteps echoing from just a short distance and spot a speeding figure coming from his room, your face twists in disdain.

You were only out to practice a certain exposure you want to perfect. Not to bear witness to whatever the fuck happens in Seungmin’s dorms.

When he locks eyes with you for the second time that week, you pretend not to notice anything.

“You again?”

He’s shameless. A bit of his overgrown sideburns are sticking to his skin, shirt lazily thrown on, and sweat still glistening on his forehead. You don’t want to think of the connotations of what your observations could possibly mean.

You simply look at him, the way his face morphs in recognition and the way his neck cranes just a little. He looks like he’s in his element, sweat and fucked-out eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

You’re the exact opposite, picking at the buttons of your camera with sleep-riddled eyes and air struck hair.

Sighing, you push yourself off your unflattering position on the ground, brushing off the rubble that might’ve stuck on your pants from sitting there for so long.

You slip back into your dorm room without uttering a single response to the boy.

+

He sees you everywhere after that.

And truthfully, it was starting to get annoying. Especially when the boys started catching on to his staring.

While Changbin was narrating stories of nights Seungmin couldn’t care for the details of, he finds himself scanning the student hall.

He thinks he doesn’t know the reason why, or at least not until he finds you eating with some other girl.

Your eyes are intently glued to the screen of your camera. He wonders what photos could litter the memory of your SD card.

Before he can even shift his attention back to whatever the fuck was happening back with his friends, he’s caught red-handed. Shit-eating grins surround the table, a few howls here and there, and shoves that Seungmin could've gone without.

“Is she your next target, Seungmin?”

He wants to vomit at the word choice.

“Target?” He scoffs. You weren’t a target. “She isn’t even my type.”

Kim Seungmin brushes off their noise, canceling out the ill-intentions they’ve made up for him. He just sits there, unperturbed by everything until his friends finish eating.

He looks at you one last time before leaving. It’s hard not to.

It doesn’t save him from further teasing.

+

“You’re a photography major?”

You’re caught off guard by the sudden voice behind you.

It seems Seungmin has made a habit of surprising you when you least expect to see him.

“...I am.”

You finally reply after letting the question hang in the air for a few seconds longer than necessary. He doesn’t care, only cares that you responded to him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

Is he only capable of asking you questions?

“We’re not friends.” You deadpan. His lips pull into a smile.

“I’m just curious why you have a camera with you all the time. Loosen up.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, just lets the silence hang there. He knows he can tick you off even more, but he doesn’t find himself wanting to. He simply walks back to the dorms with you.

When he walks too fast, he stalls—for just enough time for you to catch up with him.

You fail to notice the way he shifts his position, always standing by the busy side of the road.

+

“Are you smoking again?”

It’s the first time you initiate conversation, and he snaps out of the trance he’d been in. He was outside again, similar to when he’d first met you. And you were still you, with your camera, and the way you lift it to fit your eye through the viewfinder.

“Why? Are you starting to care about me, princess?” There’s that same smirk evident, and it seems he took your question as invitation to stand next to where you are.

You want to stomp on his face.

“‘M just asking. I really couldn’t care less.”

You can smell the smoke off of him, warranting you to take a full step away. You’ve always hated its scent, and the second-hand smoke exposure.

In turn, Seungmin runs a hand through his hair. It’s shorter, looks like he got it trimmed recently. When you put your camera away in favor of leaving the site of crime, the boy attempts to stop you.

“Leaving already?”

“It isn’t exactly part of my tuition fee to talk to people like you.”

You sound harsh, and it’s an odd feeling to suddenly feel offended about a simple phrase he’s heard multiple times before.

People like you.

What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

“Spare me a few more minutes, angel.”

You don’t bother arguing any further. Besides, you still needed a few more practice photos of where you were looking. You lift your camera back up to peek through its viewfinder, and you can only hope the noise of your photos is enough to drown him out.

“What are you doing out here so late, anyway? Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t safe?”

“I also remember telling you I’ll be fine.” You grumble, snapping a shot. He moves closer to you when you open your mouth to continue talking. “Practicing helps ease the feeling of dread, like I’d be less likely to fail if I did.”

Seungmin notices the calluses on your hands, rough with hard work, and then his eyes trail to your side profile. The light exposure from the moon makes you look prettier than you already do.

Wait, what?

The boy has never stared at someone’s hands and drawn a conclusion before, never taken the time to admire and talk to someone he wasn’t planning on screwing over either.

There’s a first for everything.

“Smoking helps.”

You snort at his sudden comment. Too much time has passed by for him to suddenly butt back into the conversation. The timing makes you laugh a little.

His heart races at the sound.

“Are there thoughts when you feel dread?” He asks, albeit a little silent, in case you didn’t want to talk about it.

You contemplate whether you should talk about it. It’s an unlikely conversation to have with an unlikely person like Kim Seungmin.

Against your better judgement, you answer.

“I don’t know. It just feels like… it feels like my heart is palpitating. I feel scared for some reason. I guess I just really don’t want to fail. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“You also feel dread?” You ask.

He hums in response. “All the time. Sometimes I’m not sure if the decisions I’m making are the right ones.”

It makes him sound so human to be able to empathize. You hate to admit you’re surprised.

“Just do what feels right in your heart.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’ll know.” You mumble.

The few minutes you’ve spared him has run out. “Goodbye now, Seungmin.”

“You know who I am?”

“Everybody knows who you are. You and your friends.” You wave him off, finally shutting off your camera and putting the lens hood back. “Bye.”

You’re dismissive, and it’s something that would usually annoy Seungmin because he’s the dismissive one in his friend group.

The sudden challenge should anger him, but it doesn’t. What is it about you, and your playing hard to get, and your dismissiveness that has his attention so much?

He’s usually the one being chased, never chasing.

He’s usually the one being told things, never initiating. Never telling.

You’ve definitely done something to him, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

He really doesn’t want to think about it.

+

It happened without warning.

You only remember how angry Seungmin was. Everything else was a little blurry.

You don’t even know who threw the first punch. Shapes and shadows just seemed to move around you until a fight broke out.

The victim was from the Engineering department, though you don’t find the word victim befitting for someone like him. You don’t even know his name, just that he has a history for picking on people.

And it seemed today, you had fallen prey. You guess it just wasn’t your lucky day.

Though, if you think of the situation in whole, he definitely had worse luck than you.

Seungmin was locked and loaded behind gritted teeth and white knuckles when he threw a punch. And he was unforgiving with his hits.

“Seungmin, stop it.” Your voice comes out in a desperate plea, and as if a switch, he pulls himself off of the nameless Engineering boy.

“Fucking asshole.” Seungmin spits at him.

He surprises you with how cold he can speak. While you’ve always known that boys like him were a little more asshole-coded, you didn’t think he had it in his moral compass to defend you after having only shared not more than four conversations.

“Why would you do that? Seungmin, what the hell?”

You’re exasperated as you peel him away from the crime scene. He’d suffered a few blows you’re sure would bruise later, and his knuckles were bloody from his displays of violence earlier.

He’s speed walking ahead of you, doesn’t think he can look at you.

“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? He had your camera.” His voice was significantly louder than it had been during your earlier conversations. You think it might be the first time he’s raised his voice at you.

His features, however, deeply contrast with the upset dripping from his voice. His face softens ridiculously fast when he turns back to look at you. And while his intentions send a soft nudge on your heart, you’re still upset at the predicament he’d willingly and intentionally put himself into.

“I didn’t need you to start a fight.” You sigh, tugging him by his arm after he’d stopped walking to direct his line of sight at you.

You continue the fleet-footed walk back to your dorm, dragging him with you.

“A thank you would be appreciated.” He grumbles from behind you, but makes no move to free his arm from your grip. Seungmin simply lets you drag him away.

“Stay there.” You sit him down just in front of your door before slipping into your little room. It takes no longer than two minutes before you’re back outside.

He’s still right where you left him. The only difference is he’s looking at you as if he’d been waiting for you to come out.

You make a move to crouch next to him.

There’s a first aid kit sitting between the two of you, a tub of water, among other things.

“How could you be so reckless?” You offer no warning when you take his hands, soaking them under the water and carefully washing the site of injury.

When you’re sure it’s clean, you turn to look at him. “You barely even know me, and you’re getting into fights.”

You’re clearly stressed, packing ice into a thin cloth while lecturing him under one breath. He doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he hyper fixates on the way you hold his hand—resting it on your thigh, applying light pressure on his bruise.

Your hand is warm, almost too warm against his. And he notices the same callouses he did that night you caught him smoking again. Yours with hard work, his with stubborn lament.

The action makes his face flush an embarrassing color. You don’t seem to notice. You’re too preoccupied being upset to even look him in the face.

“You better not do this again.”

In truth, Seungmin had probably suffered much worse than bruised knuckles. This, in comparison to all the previous fights he’d gotten himself into, was nothing. But it feels more significant than the rest.

His heart folds at how you’re taking care of him.

It was a curiously intimate thing for you to attempt to reduce the swelling with your makeshift cold compress. There’s an unidentifiable feeling in his heart he still doesn’t want to think about, but he knows there’s a subtle change in the air that he needs to address.

“He could’ve smashed years of your hard work.” He suddenly breaks the silence.

It triggers you to glance up, and you lock eyes with Seungmin once more. It looks like he’s rethinking whether he should continue talking.

Against his better judgment, he does. “He had your camera, and all I could think about was how devastated you would feel if he’d broken it.”

You blink a couple of times at his sudden confession. Moreso because he’d been observant enough to know the significance of that single piece of item. And maybe because he was looking at you a certain way.

He does that sometimes.

You don’t really know what to say to him, so you shift your focus back on his wounds. And when you’re sure there wasn’t any more damage, you let him go. “I’m done. You can go.”

A silence falls between you both before the boy climbs back on his feet while holding the cold compress you’d handed him. He takes a few tentative steps away.

“And Seungmin?”

He suddenly turns back at the interjection of your voice, looking at you with that same look from earlier, like you should know he’d do it again for you. It’s almost fond. And Seungmin hovers there, waiting.

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to finally say the words that’d been brewing in your throat.

“Thank you.”

You’re trying so hard to keep your voice monotone. He’s trying so hard not to smile.

+

Seungmin’s been in front of you for almost ten minutes now.

It’d been almost a week since he’d gotten into a fight, and he has the gall to suddenly appear in front of you. In the student center during dinner, of all places.

“Hi.” It’s his fourth time uttering those words now, but it seems your attention is still on whatever the fuck poison they were serving for dinner.

“Talk to me. Hi.” He persists.

(“He likes her, for sure.” Hyunjin laughs from a few tables away.

There’s amusement in Chan’s eyes.

“Yeah, he definitely does.” The eldest smiles to himself.)

His attempts are fruitless. You are still drinking your soup, and he is still vying for your attention.

“You’re ignoring me.” Seungmin pouts. He actually pouts. “Are you still upset I started a fight?”

You don’t respond. If you were honest with yourself, you don’t know why you’re ignoring him either. Was it because you’d felt the slightest nudge in your feelings the last time you saw each other?

“Pretty girl.”

You stall before asking. “How’s your knuckles?”

He smiles. “Better. Will you stop ignoring me now?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“If you want me to apologize, I won’t. I don’t feel regret for doing what I did. I’d rather his face smashed than your camera.”

There’s that nudge again. You didn’t want him to apologize either. A few days of mulling it over and the news of quiet in the Engineering department since his fight with Seungmin tells you enough that the benefits had outweighed the risks.

No more stories of students being taunted for doing absolutely nothing.

The boy in front of you clears his throat, trying to get your attention. “But, I’m willing to do anything else for you to stop ignoring me, or apologize for anything else.”

An idea flashes in your head.

“I know how you can make it up to me.” You say in lieu of a real response.

+

When you’d asked him for a favor, he’d gotten a little excited.

He’d thought it was somewhere along the lines of a date, like that crap he sees in movies. He didn’t think he’d have to model for a few shots in your portfolio.

“New piercing?” You ask, gesturing at your own lips to try and mirror the spot he’d gotten it. It’s silver and shiny, and definitely adds to the fuckboy appeal.

You shudder, you know your own parents would never agree to you doing the same.

“Like it?” Seungmin has the audacity to smirk, flaunting the silver on his lower lip. You simply roll your eyes.

(Though, the few seconds you spare to stare at it is enough judgment for him.

You lift your camera back up. “Alright. Just do whatever for now. Actually, maybe a hand in your pocket—yeah. That’s perfect.”

He does whatever the hell he can think of. And while most would’ve been embarrassed by now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If it meant you’d stop ignoring him, he’d do this a million times over.

“Stay in that position.”

“Hmm, I like it when you’re being bossy.”

“Shut up.” You snap a shot, looking at the screen of your camera and smiling in contentment. You don’t give him the time to rest before you’re lifting it back up to eye-level.

And it goes on like that for a while. You use him to study lighting, and angles, and shadows, and forms.

Though, it’s a little difficult when he looks so damn attractive in everything. You might have a biased model. You’re afraid if you were to shoot him in shitty lighting, it would still turn out good.

“Alright.” You switch off your camera after flicking through the numerous shots you’d taken. “I think I’m done.”

“So, you’ll stop ignoring me now?”

He looks at you with everything so potently him when he’s with you.

“Uhuh.” You hum, letting your DSLR drop around your neck. He smiles victoriously.

None of you turn to leave.

You lament in the night air just a little longer, and Seungmin spends the time staring at you.

You suddenly turn to him. His gaze is a little too invasive not to notice. “What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” There’s something about the way he says it that makes you look away. You could swear you saw a tint of red on the tip of his ears.

“Among other girls, I presume.”

He exhales. “No. Just you.”

“Resident fuckboy Kim Seungmin thinking about just one girl?”

“Fuck you.” Though, there’s no spit in the way he says it. His heart warms at the thought of you feeling comfortable enough to joke around with him now, despite you still coining him a fuckboy. He supposes that one’s on him for years of tainted reputation.

Your half laugh at being cursed echoes in his mind, lingering more there than in the air.

“You’re acting strange tonight, Seungmin.”

“You make me act strange.” His voice softens even though he’s essentially putting the blame on you for the way he was acting. And he says it in a way that makes you think he’s waiting for you to say something, or to at least understand the intentions behind his words.

You don’t know how to respond though. He sounds a little too serious to just merely be fucking around with you, like you’ve heard he does.

“The boys are saying I’m getting soft.” Seungmin doesn’t sound like he’s waiting for your response, so you let him continue talking. “Ever since that first night I met you. What the fuck did you do to me?”

He meets your eyes.

“Will you say something?”

You attempt to flat out your nerves at how he’s baring himself vulnerable in front of you all of a sudden. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t grown fond of the boy after his multiple attempts at getting your attention, but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t think it was just another one of his ploys to get into your pants.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I’m acting like a damn puppy following you around everywhere. And I let you boss me around for pictures when I could be drinking with my friends right now.” He’s still eye-to-eye with you, and it’s scary the way honestly spills from his.

“Then go drink with your friends then. ‘M not forcing you to be here.”

You’re so fucking stubborn, and he tries to search for your eyes but you aren’t looking at him anymore. Yours are downcast somewhere, on the ground, on anywhere but his eyes.

“Look at me.” You don’t know why, but you instantly do. Maybe it was in the way he said it, almost desperate. “I don’t want to drink with my friends. I want to be here with you. Because I like you.”

You crack a slow smile at his words, and at the way he’s stripped himself in genuine softness in front of you. It wasn’t everyday you’d see Kim Seungmin like this.

“So don’t think I’d lie to you about that.” He’s pouting again, and you tease him for it.

You get on your toes, get a good look on his face and the pout that adorns it. “Are you upset I thought you were lying?”

“Fuck off. I’m just—” He can’t help but laugh, pushing you away from him lest he wants to suffer the consequences of kissing you without your permission. He wants you to like him back, and if he has to do it slowly, so be it.

“Just give me a chance.” Almost pleading.

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “Okay.”

“I understand if you—” He suddenly pauses. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He stares at your lips, at the way it forms around the word, and he’s puzzled at how hot his face feels because he’s never been flustered like this. And he thinks his cheeks will start to burn if he doesn’t stop smiling. But he just can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’ve willingly given him a chance.

On your own autonomy.

“You won’t regret it.”

You don’t think you will.

[pepperyduck]

you walk around the corner to see gojo’s girlfriend sitting on top of his desk and him talking to her sitting on his chair between her legs. so much for surprising him with your early coming home from your work trip. even tho he’s your husband you don’t dare take a step further keeping your shock to a silent gasp, worried you’ll get caught. your marriage had been arranged, and even though you loved him and he was a good caring husband, he was never in love with you. while you figured this was happening it still hurt seeing him so happy and full of life when he’s engaging in just simple conversation with her.

almost immediately after he notices you avoiding him and keeping to yourself even more than normal. when he brings it up, you tell him you know about his girlfriend after having listen to them talking for a long time before they started to “make out.” while Gojo isn’t mean or smug about it, he doesn’t deny it leaving you an absolute emotional wreck.

hi honey! thank u for this request, u get me so well :'). i hope i delivered what u were looking for! much love hun!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, cheating, mentions of divorce, manipulation if u look hard enough, a couple mentions of sex but no active descriptions. (18+ mdni!)

notes: so i haven't written about gojo yet but i absolutely love this man. let me know what u think! also i did not proofread this, very sorry, i wrote half of it on my lunch break @ work.

you can find part two here

masterlist

“satoruuu!” you chirp your husband’s name as you enter the home, the ending syllables of his name echoing throughout the massive entryway, and you’re met with silence. you drop your bags in front of the door, you can’t help but be enthusiastic about seeing your husband – you’ve been on that stupid business trip that took way too long, and you feel lucky you were able to come back home a few days earlier.

a boisterous laugh comes from upstairs in the empty house, signaling your husband is somewhere around your office – maybe he’s on the phone with a friend and didn’t hear you from all the way downstairs. you smile to yourself and run up the stairs, staying quiet as possible so you can surprise satoru – tiptoeing closer and closer, you see your office door wide open. when you peek around the doorframe into the room, you see your husband, dressed in one of those expensive shirts you bought for your last anniversary –

and there’s a girl, a girl you’ve never seen, perched atop your desk, smiling widely and proud from a joke she cracked to make satoru laugh so loudly.

you draw your head back quickly, praying neither one of them saw you, because you had no idea how to approach the situation at hand. that girl was more than a friend, for sure, with the way satoru was feeling up and down her thighs from sitting in between them. for a second, you feel as if your whole marriage was a lie. 5 years, down the drain, and how many of those years were spent with other women, too?

satoru gojo was the son to your parent’s closest counterparts – you grew up around him, not too close, but enough to know enough about one another by the time you became adults. after college, neither one of you held a long-term partner, so your parents and his decided to arrange a marriage for the both of you. you willingly accepted – satoru was a sweet, caring boy for the most part – yet unbeknownst to you, a cheater who never really had any intentions of staying loyal to his wife. in his mind, the marriage was nothing more than a benefit for the both of you; he agreed to get his parents off his back and live a comfortable life because of the successful jobs you both obtained. you were content taking the man’s last name, having gradually fallen in love with him over time, even planning to have kids with him one day.

all your future dreams and past feelings come to a halt when you see the man with another woman.

you creep back down the stairs, quietly so no one catches on, and you grab your bags and leave again. you don’t go too far at all; you stay down the street in your car so you can see whenever your husband leaves. once he’s on his way to go drop his mistress off, you scurry back to the house and take all your things inside. satoru returns hours later, well past after dark, greeted with you in the kitchen finishing up dinner.

“oh- honey,” satoru perks up upon walking through the door, “i didn’t think you’d be back so early.” he walks up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, giving you a tight squeeze and kissing your neck. your first instinct is to relax into his touch, as you had always done for years before, but the hurt inside of you causes you to stiffen up at the hug.

“hi, satoru,” you faintly reply, eyes diverting from everything else to the saucepan simmering in front of you on the stove. satoru always had a knack to be able to tell when something was off with you, even from the smallest bit of action. this was no different.

satoru unravels his arms from around you and leans onto the counter adjacent to the stove, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “everything okay, sweetie?” the pet name he most commonly used made your stomach hurt and your chest tighten.

“mmhm,” you bluff, “just a rough trip, i’m really exhausted,” you tell him, gaining a bit of strength to look him in the eyes with a tired expression and a weak smile.

“aww, you should’ve told me, honey. i would’ve got us something while i was out,” satoru says, his sickeningly sweet voice causing a bout of anger inside you.

“i was going to surprise you, but you weren’t here when i got home,” you lie to him, gazing back down to the saucepan and turning the eye off, “where were you so late?” you ask, although you already knew the answer. the question was just a meaningless test.

“ah, i was out with kento. he wanted to treat me to drinks since he got a new promotion,” satoru lies right back, but you see right through it.

“really? good for him,” you compliment his friend, able to work yourself up a little more to keep a straight face in front of your husband.

satoru couldn’t tell yet, but your heart cracked each time you looked at him. you wanted to slap the man to the ground and interrogate him as to why he’s sleeping around – but you only had evidence you saw with your own eyes. you figured he would most likely try to flip things around if you accused him of cheating and pin the blame on actions of your own that didn’t exist.

so, you make the noble decision to keep quiet about your knowledge for now.

days pass, the scene of your husband and the other woman slowly ate away at you, it chipped at the loving wife persona you displayed for satoru, more and more with each hour that came and went. your husband’s usual upbeat personality remained the same, and you tried your hardest to match it, continuing to kiss and be intimate with the man as much as he wanted.

but as time grew, your feelings slowly started to show. you couldn’t help it – who could help it? – being cheated on tears away someone’s entire confidence and demeanor. for years, satoru had feigned innocence and loyalty, he was a perfect husband to you, but maybe he was too perfect for someone like you.

he was his family’s most prized heir, and you were just some girl that got lucky enough to marry him, by some chance of fate. you hated the fact that you realized all you were to him was some … possession, someone there for convenience and convenience alone.

“what’s got you down in the dumps, hmm?” satoru teases as he pokes at your shoulder. you’re laid with your back facing him, trying to fall asleep after a long, emotionally painful night of sex.

you don’t reply at first, you just roll over a little more so he can’t see your sad face, curling into yourself at his touch. there was never going to be a perfect time for you to confront the man. but all the painful feelings you’d been holding on to for weeks at this point get the best of you, and a tear makes its way out of your eye and onto the silk sheets below.

“satoru,” you peep, barely audible as you continue to face away from your husband.

“hmm, honey?” he hums, so effortlessly faking a kind tone.

“who’s that girl?” you question, “i saw her here when i came home.”

“oh,” satoru replies, and you can feel his weight shift next to you so he’s laying on his back.

silence falls over the room, you wait on a reply that satoru refuses to give you for multiple minutes. he lays there, contemplating a lie, or whether or not he should come clean.

it’s not like you’d leave him, anyway.

“i’ve been dating her for a few months now,” satoru tells you, his voice no longer sweet or caring, just plainly spitting out the words you didn’t want to hear from him, ever. the tone in his voice upsets you even greater, he doesn’t even try to deny it, which causes an even greater pain to expand inside of you.

satoru’s new indifference to your feelings hurts a lot more than you’d ever imagined. you tried to psych yourself up, telling yourself that it was okay, you’d be happy if he just lied to you about the whole situation and you’d never bring it up again. his honesty is excruciating, it causes your heart to finally shatter into a million pieces when he confesses everything so guilt-free.

“why…?” you whimper, still unable to gain any of the forged confidence you had for weeks before to look him in the eyes again. you couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with over time, because you knew all they’d do is glare back at you unimpressed.

“well,” satoru starts, “what did you expect? this whole marriage was a fluke, anyway,” he mutters, still too honest for you to be able to feel any comfort in his words.

satoru doesn’t care, though, he never really cared, it’s all so agonizingly obvious to you now.

what did you expect?

you knew what you expected from this marriage, you treated satoru with the utmost care, even if it was a situation you were both forced into. you expected him to stay true to his vows, to be there in all the rough patches, and he was, only until it comes to your attention he wasn’t.

the sweet, considerate, thoughtful husband you once knew disappeared in the matter of a few minutes. all that remained of him now was a hard shell of what he was.

you decide to not reply to satoru anymore, to save yourself from anymore heartbreak – as if you had any left for him to smash into a billion pieces. the only actions you take are to curl up into an even smaller ball and allow the flood gates to open – you begin to coat the soft sheets in your salty tears. satoru only groans at your crying, like it was such a burden he broke your heart, as if he’s not the one to blame for everything going downhill.

the bed sinks in as satoru stands up, sighing. his footsteps shuffle behind you, you hear his keys jingle and his shoes scuff against the floor as he puts them on. you see him walk over to your dresser – the one he made for you with a huge mirror years ago – and check his reflection to fix his hair. soon after, he walks over to you and plants a meaningless kiss to your temple.

“i’m going to go see my girlfriend now,” the utterance of the word “girlfriend” makes you squeeze your eyes shut, “if you want a divorce, let me know so i can get a lawyer.”

satoru walks away and grabs his coat on the dresser, giving himself another good look in the mirror before walking over to the bedroom door.

“bye, honey.”

he leaves behind a broken wife, who’s too beautiful inside and out for her own good. he knows you won’t really leave him; the suggestion of a divorce was to only get a reaction out of you, he was bored the instant you had no rebuttal.

you only continue to cry into the night, falling asleep alone, the only thing to accompany you is the fact your marriage was a lie. satoru will come back, but things will never be the same.

[norrisainz33]

footy star || cl16

☆ summary: charles loves his successful olympic footballer wife!

☆ pairing: charles leclerc x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warnings: emily fox & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you 🫶🏻

☆ a/n: all pictures from pinterest - none of them are my own

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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arthurleclerc: you’ve never sent me off like this before

arthurleclerc: also tell y/n/n i am sorry i couldn’t be there to say good luck in person

charlesleclerc: told her and she says she misses you already

ynleclerc: you spoil me 🤭

charlesleclerc: of course i do ma cherie! you’re my wife after all ❤️

user1: i am so jealous of this

user2: candle on the bed is a move

scuderiaferarri: our girl 🫶🏻

user4: i want what yall have

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liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, yourbff, uswnt, arsenalfc, user1 and 435,274 others

ynleclerc: traded in my arsenal kit for my country kit! i am overjoyed to be representing my country for the second time at the olympics but this time as a leclerc 😉🇺🇸🤍

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user1: mommmmaaaaaaaa

user3: AS A LECLERC ??? IM CRYING

charlesleclerc: that’s right mrs leclerc 😘 i’m so proud of you

ynleclerc: i love you mr leclerc

user2: arsenal kit is better

carlossainz55: vamos y/n!! (i’m rooting for spain)

iamrebeccad: vamos y/n!! (i’m rooting for y/n)

ynleclerc: and that’s why rebecca is my favorite

user4: i am so obsessed with this

iamrebeccad: the most radiant footballer i’ve ever seen 🫶🏻

ynleclerc: stop it i love you

user7: a leclerc representing the usa doesn’t sit right with me

user4: monaco doesn’t have a team 😭

user5: my favorite wag 🗣️

scuderiaferrari has posted a video

user7: the way carlos and charles look at each other got me feeling some type of way

user8: omg stop carlos is going with charles to paris?! 🥹

user9: need a baddie to look at me with big puppy dog eyes like carlos does to charles tf

user10: FORZA FERRARI

user11: admin putting “soccer” in quotes is sending me

user12: husband charles is my favorite charles

user13: y/n has the two hottest drivers in the world as her biggest fans im

user19: beeee who you areeeee

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynleclerc, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, yourbff, yoursibling, carlossainz55, and 743,234 others

charlesleclerc: half of the season done. some ups like realizing a childhood dream in monaco and marrying my best friend in tuscany and some downs but it’s time to rest, cheer on my wife at the olympics and come back stronger than ever in the second half! thank you to everyone for the continuous support - see you soon ❤️

view all 829 comments

user10: NEW WEDDING PICS DROPPED 🚨

user16: enjoy the break charles

maxverstappen1: let’s go y/n!! enjoy your break charles! try not to cause an inchidents in paris

charlesleclerc: i’ll do my best!! see you soon mate

scuderiaferrari: rest and recovery time 🔋

user16: no rest for yall tho !! get back to the factory and start making a better car

ynleclerc: je suis si fier de toi charles. je t'aime tellement [i am so proud of you charles. i love you so much]

charlesleclerc: je t'aime toujours et pour toujours [i love you always and forever]

user33: she’s learning her french 🥹

landonorris: tell y/n to bring me some thing back from paris

ynleclerc: a baguette?

landonorris: that or a magnet or a medal

ynleclerc: you got it bud

user32: charles leclerc the man that you are

user43: i hope they never stop posting wedding photos

ynlecelrc has posted to their story

view all story replies

user16: THAT MEANS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT PERSON (charles) ALSO ARRIVED AHHHH

yourbff: i miss little leo oh my god he’s so cute

ynleclerc: he’s getting so big 😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

charlesleclerc: what about me 🥺 just kidding mon amour

ynleclerc: well you too baby but leo just looked too cute not to post

carlossainz55: principito [little prince] 👑

user17: heck he’s my emotional support pup too

user22: GOOD LUCK TONIGHT Y/N

arthurleclerc: and nothing about your emotional support brother in law???????

ynleclerc: oh hush

arthurleclerc: I WILL NOT BE SILENCED

arthurleclerc: oh and now you leave me on read

F1Gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 123,435 others

F1Gossip: charles was in the stadium today supporting his wife, y/n leclerc, who is playing in the finals of the olympics for the uswnt! fans said charles was spotted with carlos, rebecca, arthur, pascale and lorenzo.

view all 453 comments

user22: all the leclerc’s in attendance stop 😭

user23: this is so sweet omg

user24: why are carlos and rebecca there

user23: y/n and rebecca are best friends!!

user25: the leclerc’s love y/n so much im sick

user26: y/n is living the dream. a footy super star and a member of a truly royal family

user12: i just fell to my knees ,, look how smiley he is

user16: he loves his girl so much

user18: no bc i want someone to be this happy watching me 😭💔

user32: my favorite couple on the grid

user45: i’m not ready for my family to be broken up after abu dhabi

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, arthuerleclerc, iamrebeccad, yourbff, uswnt, trinity_rodman, lavellerose, mrapinoe, sbird10, erling.haaland, and 435,273 others

ynleclerc: WE DID IT WE WON GOLD!!! we left absolutely everything out on that pitch - i am so unbelievably proud of this team. thank you to all the fans who supported us along the way and to my beautiful family and husband for making the trip to paris. i love you all 🤍🇺🇸

view all 654 comments

user87: so proud of you

yourbff: you are so amazing i love you so much that’s my BEST FRIEND

ynleclerc: BESTIE BESTIE BESTIE

logansargeant: making america proud y/n!

ynleclerc: so are you logie 🇺🇸

charlesleclerc: y/n you inspire me every day. i could not be more in awe of you and everything you have and continue to accomplish. i love you my gorgeous golden girl

ynleclerc: 🥹 charlie!! don’t make me cry again

charlesleclerc: no crying cherie! leo can’t handle his maman crying

ynleclerc: ok i’ll hold it together for the baby

user16: ok but they’d be the cutest actual parents

ynleclerc: and we just might be sooner than you’d think user16

user16: Y/N?!?!?!? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN GIRL PLEASE TELL US RNCIM NAKENFKWNGKG

landonorris: so you are bringing me home a medal

ynleclerc: i told you i would

landonorris: sorry for doubting you bestie

ynleclerc: you should be sorry

user98: THATS OUR GIRL

mrapinoe: congrats y/n! so well deserved 🤍

ynleclerc: megan 😭😭😭😭 thank you

iamrebeccad: see how she wins a gold medal? very demure, very mindful, very cutesy

ynleclerc: see how she’s the most supportive best friend ever? very demure, very mindful, very cutesy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. been a bit slow on requests but am going to try to post more this weekend!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[marvelouslizzie]

Like Someone I Know

summary: You decide to take a break from studying and go to a masked party but your casual hookup turns out to be your biggest rival, Bucky Barnes.

pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

warnings: 18+, academic rivals, alcohol consumption, hidden identities, hookup, boob worship, semi-public sex, pet names, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, no mention of y/n.

word count: 2.4K

A/N: @notafunkiller gave me "I don't care if they're gonna see it. I'm not giving them back." and academic rivals as prompt and now here we are… I hope you enjoy this random story. Thanking Andreea also for the editing and for the name suggestion. She’s the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Keep reading tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

This isn’t like you. You don’t find people attractive this easily, let alone hook up with them at a party, right after meeting them. It feels surreal… like you are having some kind of a fever dream. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol you consumed, but you don’t feel tipsy. So maybe not.

His hands roam on your body, hungrily discovering every inch. His lips are relentless, sucking and licking. It feels so damn good and it’s just so hard to resist. You deserve to let go sometimes. You work so hard, right? It’s okay to hook up with a handsome stranger. Well, you aren’t sure about the handsome part. Not when half of his face is covered by some kind of mask, but his piercing blue eyes tell you he might be the most handsome man you have ever seen. They also seem familiar somehow and you don’t know how that’s possible.

He stops kissing you, while his hands are still on your hips. He looks you in the eye, and it makes you shiver. You finally realize why he feels so familiar and it makes you uncomfortable. Those blue eyes… They remind you of Bucky Barnes. Why on earth would you find someone attractive because they look like him?

“Is everything alright?”

Even his voice… It sounds kinda like him. Not completely though. Bucky’s voice is usually harsher. He sounds like he’s trying to poison you with words. Especially when he makes fun of you after getting a better grade. God, you hate him so much.

“Yeah, yeah.” Your answer sounds so absent and not convincing at all.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just realized you look like someone I know.”

“Oh, darling…” God, the way he smiles! There’s no way this man can be ugly. That smile punches you in your stomach. “There’s no way you know me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I would remember a beauty like you.”

That makes you laugh. It sounds so cheesy. Plus he can’t even see half of your face. How could he even remember you?

“I mean it.” 

“I’m sure you used that line on girls before.” 

“I can’t say…” He stops for a second, trying to find the right words. “I do this often.”

“You mean hooking up with strangers at a party?”

“No.” His answer confuses you for a second. “Hooking up at all.”

Oh, that can’t be true. Those blue eyes can convince anyone to do anything. Maybe he’s just trying to make you feel special, and truth be told, it doesn’t matter. You don’t know him. 

“Why is that?”

His hands caress your hips gently. “Usually… I don’t let myself get distracted.”

“Sorry for distracting you, then.” 

Your playful answer makes him smile. He starts kissing your neck. His hands move on your ass, kneading while he keeps on kissing you. His lips move closer and closer to your cleavage. You know this is your last chance to say anything if you don’t wanna go further, but you can’t find the strength in yourself to stop him. His lips are soft and wet on your skin. Every kiss he lays on your skin makes you want more. You don’t know if you can stop him. 

Suddenly he grabs your tits, pushing them together while he buries his head between them. It makes you gasp, and he inhales your scent like he can’t get enough of it. 

“I want them in my mouth.”

He looks up, his eyes pleading for your consent.

“Can I?”

“Someone might come in any time.” You don’t wanna get caught like that. “They might see us.”

"I don't care if they're gonna see it. I'm not giving them back." His response makes you smile. He sounds so desperate while still holding your tits. And like it isn’t enough, he starts to beg. “Please… Can I?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You sound breathy, just because of the anticipation. You just want to enjoy this moment, not thinking about anything else.

He pushes down the straps. He doesn’t even bother unclasping your bra. He just frees your tits and starts sucking on your nipple. Your head is thrown back with sudden pleasure. His tongue dances around your nipple, making you squirm.

“God, you are so delicious.” 

He switches to your other nipple. He licks, bites, and sucks while you try to keep your voice down. It’s not easy. A couple of moans slip away. You are just glad this is a party and the music is loud enough to conceal any sound you make.

Suddenly he lets go of your nipple. The wet pop makes you bite your lip. 

“I really need to taste you.” You give him a confused look. Isn’t he already doing that? “Down there.” He quickly adds.

You don’t know what to say. You expected a quick fuck at best, that’s what the girls told you. Don’t have high expectations for hookups. They end pretty quickly and you might end up unsatisfied. But he’s proving you wrong every step of the way.

He keeps looking at you with a glow. God, his eyes are so freaking beautiful! Even if you didn’t want that, it would be so hard to say no. You finally nod, giving him permission.

“Thank you.” He quickly gets on his knees and hikes up your dress. 

He starts to kiss your thighs, then he brings his nose onto your clothed pussy and just inhales.

“You smell so freaking good, d-darling.”

The praise makes you shiver. Not just because you aren’t used to it, but he also sounds so much like Bucky when he says darling. He calls you doll in a way that makes you feel degraded. Like you’re nothing more than a beautiful doll. No brains. No talent. Just there to look pretty. But this time… It doesn’t make you feel small. It makes you feel like a goddess.

Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed, though. He smiles like a devil, looking into your eyes. Then he grabs your underwear and just pushes it down. You feel unbelievably exposed. Your breasts are sticking out of your dress while your pussy is right in front of him. But the hunger on his face makes you feel better.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He licks his lips before diving in. He grabs one of your legs and hikes it up on his shoulder, creating more space for himself to work. 

He starts you eat you eagerly. His tongue moves smoothly between your folds and he sets a pace that makes it harder to shut your mouth. His tongue discovers every inch of you. Then suddenly he switches on sucking your clit, making you moan loudly.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

You feel him smile as he stops sucking for a second. His hands reach for your hips, steadying you while he goes back to sucking your clit. Once again your head is thrown back. You try to steady your breathing, but it doesn’t work. Your orgasm comes crashing in.

“Fuckk! I’m coming!” You don’t realize how loud you say it. You don’t realize how harshly you grab his hair and make him moan against your clit. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not until your shaking calms down.

The moment he’s sure you rode out every last bit of your orgasm, he moves away from you. When he looks up, he realizes your mask moved a little bit. Just enough to make him recognize who you are. His eyes are wide open, but you don’t notice any of it. You are still breathing heavily, trying to collect yourself.

He suddenly stands up and places his hands on the wall, caging you in. He looks like he wants to say something, but he can’t find the words. You assume it’s because of his unmet needs. So instead of questioning him, you move your hands to his pants. He watches you unbuckling and unzipping him. Then you look back at his face, silently asking for permission, and he nods.

You get rid of his pants and boxers with his help before he grabs his cock like he’s getting ready. Your words, though, stop him.

“We are not doing this without a condom.”

You don’t know what you expected, but you didn’t expect him to smile.

“Smart girl.”

The way he says that turns you on even more. The only problem is that he starts to sound more and more like Bucky. While you are trying to push away the thought of your biggest rival, he takes his wallet out and finds a condom.

“You don’t do this often, but you have a condom in your wallet.” You can’t help but point out.

“Every guy has one in their wallet. Just in case…” He responds while putting on the condom. “Doesn’t mean we think we’ll get lucky.”

“Well, you are certainly getting lucky tonight.”

“Oh, don’t I know it?”

He suddenly lifts you up against the wall. It’s so unexpected, yet it makes your blood rush. His lips find yours once again, but this time, it feels different. You don’t know what changed. You can’t put your finger on it. It was already passionate, hungry, and curious before, but this time… It’s just on another level. 

“Ready?” You know what he’s asking about.

“Yeah.” You find yourself nodding and he smiles.

“That eager, huh?” His voice is deep and full of impatience, but also some kind of belittlement. God, that Bucky really messed up with your head. 

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He gently pushes himself inside you, and you can’t help but moan out loud. A part of you feels embarrassed that you can’t seem to shut your mouth. You’re not used to this. It makes you feel exposed.

“Yes!” He sounds like he accomplished the most important thing in the world. “Don’t hold back those pretty sounds.”

You don’t know what to say, all you can focus on is the way his words make you wetter and wetter. You feel like you are discovering a part of you that you didn’t know existed. Maybe all you need is to hear how good you are doing. Is it why you are working this hard to get the best grades possible?

He doesn’t let you question more about yourself when he finally starts to move. It feels so overwhelming that you forget about anything else.

“Oh god…” He moans right next to your ear as his fingers are gripping on your skin. “You are so wet, doll.” You freeze. What did he just say?

“Bucky?”

Your heart starts to race faster than before. You don’t know what you are feeling. Shock, fear, excitement… This might be your worst nightmare. Or your biggest dream. 

“I swear to god,” he starts to talk with haste, trying to explain himself before you get the wrong idea. “I didn’t know it was you. You have to believe me.” The fear in his voice is so audible. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him fearing something like this before. “After your first orgasm,your mask slipped a little.”

You suddenly feel relief washing over you. You felt so dumb for a second, thinking he might have tricked you. Knowing he’s afraid just like you helps a lot. He didn’t plan this. Maybe it's just a twist of fate. You reach for his mask and take it off without saying anything. There’s no need for it anymore. He smiles in response. You can see he wants to do the same, but he’s still carrying you, so you take off your own mask, too

 He looks into your eyes, trying to see if you are still okay with this. 

“Come on, big guy, move!”

His devilish grin returns. He bounces you on his arms, securing your position, and then starts to move again. His lips find yours, and you moan into his mouth. You can’t believe you are actually having sex with Bucky Barnes. You have had a couple of wet dreams about him, but you never thought it would turn into reality. You never thought he would be into you. He starts to lose control and move faster than before. 

“Oh shit!” You feel like you might come soon. “Faster. Please!”

“So needy.” He grips on your ass. You don’t know why but his words rub you the wrong way.

“Don’t belittle me.” You snap back, and it makes him stop. You frown, thinking he’s gonna get you off and leave you unsatisfied.

“I never belittle you.” He’s looking into your eyes. “I never meant to belittle you.”

“You are not?” You always thought he was. You thought he was trying to put you down, demotivate you. Even if he was saying something nice.

“Never, doll. You are the smartest person I have ever met.”

You never heard him say this before. Maybe he just didn’t want to admit it back then. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“And the prettiest girl.” 

You crash your lips onto his, kissing him like you can’t survive without it. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear something like this coming from him. He moans into your mouth while he starts to move again.

“I don’t think-” He sounds so pained. “I can- hold back any longer.”

You’re not so far away from reaching your climax. All you need is him moving just a bit harder, then you might be able to come with him.

“Please, come with me!” You don’t care how desperate it sounds. “I just need it a little harder.”

That breaks his defense. He starts to move so fast that it takes your breath away. After a couple of thrusts, your body starts to shake uncontrollably.

“Bucky!” You can’t stay silent. “I’m- coming.”

“Come for me, doll. Make a mess.” His thrusts grow sloppier. You can see he’s losing control because of you. “So fucking pretty. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” You are sure his grip on your ass will leave some bruises, but you don’t care. It feels so good. He makes you feel so good. “Oh fuck!” 

He looks so pretty while he’s coming. The way he moans… The way his eyes flutter with each thrust… You watch every detail while coming yourself, wanting to memorize it. 

Then he opens his eyes. His pretty blue eyes shine in a way that feels warm, cozy, and downright giddy.

“I can’t believe we really did that.” He’s still holding you. You wonder how that is even possible. You always thought he looked strong, but this is on another level.

“Now tell me,” You sound confident and satisfied. “For how long did you want to do that?”

He chuckles in a way that makes you feel needy all over again.

“Oh, you have no idea.”