#LIKE I KNEW IT WAS MAYBE COMING BUT IT STILL HURTS

[rissouu]

I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!

when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.

your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.

that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.

but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.

he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.

well.. so you thought.

you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.

“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.

you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.

the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.

just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.

no. fucking. way.

“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.

technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.

how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?

the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.

you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.

but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.

“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.

with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.

about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.

with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”

you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”

as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?

“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”

that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.

you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.

“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”

your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.

“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?

“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”

throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”

before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.

“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.

it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?

“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”

‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.

you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.

you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.

“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.

it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.

“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”

“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.

“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”

that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.

gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.

“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”

every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.

that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.

gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.

“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”

gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.

when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.

“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.

you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.

the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.

“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”

a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.

he finally got his girl back.

faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.

“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.

the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.

“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.

his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.

your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.

“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.

gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?

finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.

the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.

your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.

“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”

his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.

“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.

“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.

the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.

his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.

his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.

“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.

your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”

gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.

his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.

“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”

you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.

“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?

gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”

you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.

“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”

you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.

“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.

gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.

“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.

your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.

“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.

“yes toru, i understand.”

if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.

©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)

[luvether]

FABRICS OF BATH SALTS & MILQUETOAST

summary, establishing and sharing casual intimacy and innocence with him and relishing in each other’s presence.

phainon x gn!reader. fluff + sensual (?) content, tender touching + physical touch. really intimate. sweet devotion. unlabeled relationship. innocent love at its finest. minor world-building for Grove of Epiphany and its academias. self-indulgent asf, enjoy ‪‪❤︎‬ [3.6k wc]

Thinking about Phainon and his acts of love for you.

You’ve known the pale-haired hero enough to learn that there’s a fabric over his cordial mannerisms. You dare not prod him of his past nor his hometown but even someone like you—a Helkolithist scholar from the Grove, you knew something was on his mind when he starts to trace a finger absentmindedly through the lines of your palm, a delicate touch that holds a crown of affection and deep satiated yearning. Maybe it’s because you are proficient with your studies of mental acuities that you manage to find a pattern of behavior within the hero, piquing your interest.

So it also came as a surprise to you when Lord Phainon took an interest in you the first time around, to the point of seeking such comfort in you despite the many rumours surrounding the people of the Grove—narcissistic, haughty, ascetics, exclusionist and many more. Even with your incessant excuses the first few times you’ve met briefly, Phainon finds every loophole in your pretexts to spend time with you.

When you told him you were busy translating slates for your academia, he would nod his head—oh, but the hero will not leave. He would make his way across your office and settle on one of your guest sofas, ensconced by reed-filled pillows and wool blankets he would pick up a random scroll from your floor and peruse its text in silence.

You spare him a look. “I was under the impression my Lord dislikes convoluted knick knacks.”

Those sea-deep eyes of his drag over to you, blinking. “Convoluted knick knacks, you say?”

Your finger is tracing the carved characters on the stone. “Those scrolls on the floor originate from the Lothophagist school, it's of no use to me.”

“Why are there so many in your office?”

“...My office was said to be an apothecary before I claimed it.” A brief seconds of silence. “I thought of airing the room when I got it, but judging from our current predicament—I thought those scrolls will be useful one day, in case someone gets hurt, at least there’s still notes of medicines somewhere in here.”

Your eyes remain on the slate in your hand, but Phainon’s gaze on your person is heavy—it did not feel uncomfortable, but you cannot help the burn on your cheeks knowing he was looking at you.

“You’re very kind.” Those were the words that left his mouth, and it jolts you because this was the first time someone has called you as such.

You take your stare off the stone and onto those blue eyes, dissecting his expression to find even a hint of fallacy, even a bare of falseness with his words but you found none.

Lord Phainon was genuine with his declaration, what decorated his face was the softest tips of upturned lips and wide honesty encased in those pupils.

Your fingers falter, oh how your heart burned beneath that ocean eyes of his.

Maybe it began that day, that you allowed Phainon to hang around you if he so pleases. And maybe he noticed your change in behavior and your lessening aloofness but he does not question nor tease you of it. Even if he comes by from time to time to visit the Grove, you're grateful that he’s not overbearing with his frankness. You’ve noticed that about him, the way he teeters between being approachable and reserved out of respect. He does not bother you when he sees you immersed in something and he does not pull you away from your work, preferring to bask in the atmosphere you created. He’s like a guest in your own quiet garden, but you had long promoted him to be a companion, someone that was welcomed into your bubble at any time of the day so long as the dawn Kephale carries.

That’s when you developed an art of noticing with him,

The length of his eyelashes, the arch of his eyelids, soft white bangs that hang over his eyes, the gentle exhales he lets out when he relaxes himself on your sofa, the reflection of the ornaments on his attire and the goldeness of his sun-shaped tattoo that painted the left side of his neck, stretching down to the prominence of his collarbone.

You press your lips against your knuckles, after a while Phainon feels the heavyweight of your stare on him.

He smiles at you, “is something on my face?”

You lowered your hands, leaned back against your seat. “You’re restless.”

Phainon seems surprised at your statement. “Why do you say so?”

“Since you’ve arrived you have not stopped moving.” you say. “Your leg wouldn't stop bouncing when you’re seated and you seem…more agitated than usual?”

The hero does nothing but chuckle heartily. “It seems like I've finally caught the attention of the infamous Helkolithist sage, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

You prayed that your cheeks were not noticeable to him, heated from his teasings. Even if he noticed, you were immediate with your response. You stand from behind your desk, picking up the scarf resting behind your chair, “Please speak up when you feel uneasy next time.”

Phainon stands up when he sees you walking to the door.

Everytime you feel like you achieved something with him, the hero surprises you again and again, especially when the next thing you felt was his very presence from behind. Phainon’s gloved hand comes to gently circle around your wrist, hindering your approach towards your door.

You turn to him and it's the first time you see his face fall in a worried frown. “Where are you going, did I perhaps irate you with my teases?”

Despite the smooth glove that serves as a barrier between your hands, it does not stop Phainon from tracing his bare fingertips from your wrist to the center of your open palm. You don’t know what he wanted to achieve with this, maybe it was to console you? Or console himself? But his actions drive your heart to pound in rhythms in your chest.

You doubt he’s cheeky enough to intentionally fluster you like this. He's playful but not presumptuous, and you can slowly feel your composure chip away at such a simple action.

It's just a mere touch of comfort, don't get ahead of yourself. Your mind sterns you so. When you find your bearings, you reach out to him, this is your first time touching him too.

Phainon’s eyes flicker and your eyes soften, crushed under a mortar and pestle. “No you did not anger me in any way, Lord.”

His skin is cold under your touch, your fingertips drawing a soothing pattern on the ungloved parts of his hand—which were his fingers, you rub them in your open palm softly. “Do you want to take a stroll with me? I feel a little stuffy after reading a handful of case studies.”

You see the way he perks up at your request, but he tries to hide his excitement. He cambers his head, a slight tilt to show puzzlement and you find it adorable.

“Are you certain?”

You tilt your head up in his direction. “Of course, I was the one who invited you. Come now, Lord Phainon, if we are fast enough the Academia’s parlor is giving away free coffees to both students and staff.”

When you dare spare a look over your shoulder you briefly catch his smile—a smile that seems to have shaved a part of the sun—because the upward tilt of his lips is so radiant and beautiful.

“If we missed the free coffee, will you throw me out of your office?” he grins playfully.

“Depending on how you pace yourself, I’ll be the judge of it.”

You wrestle the door handle and exit your office with a good-spirited Phainon trailing behind you. Completely unaware of your wavering stare and flushed tipped ears and cheeks.

It did not take long for the two of you to drop the formal salutations between one another. He stopped being Lord Phainon and hero to you, instead he was just Phainon—even if it was not his birth-given name, it was still a name he addresses himself with, a name that you loved to enunciate and shape vowels of. And to him, you stopped being the Helkolithist sage or the strict lecturer from the Grove. Rumours and nicknames that once plagued your many titles completely vanished with him and Phainon found mild joy in taste-testing your name in his lips. Every chance he gets, he calls you by your name and you’re a sudden victim to such a simple folly, turning every time you hear him say your name despite the situation you’re in, despite how hushed or quiet he calls you.

Whether or not your other colleagues noticed it, whether or not those avid looks Anaxagoras gives you, you ignored it because you secretly liked the way he addresses you; romantic intentions aside, he spoke of your name with such gentleness and ease, without intentions and tomfoolery, without the motive to manipulate information from you and without the definition to ask you of anything. Phainon called out to you simply because he likes to, he says your name without connecting it to formality upon your status.

He tastes the name on his tongue and calls you with a certain crave that is far too different from others.

With the formula of names already established, the next that came with your unlabelled relationship with Phainon were the touches. Months have passed by now, Phainon enters and exits your office at his own leisure, you became his companion for his conversations, someone that he can confide in with topics that he cannot bring up with Lady Aglaea, his teacher Tribbie, Miss Castorice or even his rival and brother-in-arms Mydeimos—not that the crown prince of Kremnos is even elated to share a conversation with him.

You were that person to him, his person that he comes to when he needs a hint of comfort at times where he finds himself at a loss.

Even if Phainon finds himself in one of his quiet moods of contemplation and wants nothing but solitude, he knows that the moment he enters your office he will be indulged by the quiet atmosphere you created—smelling that hint of herbs from your bookcases, seeing you hunched over your desk too concentrated in your texts to converse—not that he minded, because you would always look up when he enters, nodding your head in acknowledgement or look at him whenever he wants anything. He is grateful you don’t pester him for answers, but today is different.

Phainon is flooded with the thought of holding you.

He excuses it for his loneliness and feeling the heavy burden of the Deliverer on his shoulders—he wants to engulf you in his arms, to shape you in his embrace and reminisce in such a presence. So he stands, uncharacteristically so, his motive? to approach you now that your back is turned to him. You’re not sitting down at your desk, Phainon would sometimes follow you with his eyes as you buzz from the seat, to the bookcases, your seat then back to the bookcases—on extremely rare occasions, you would make your way to your window and tug the curtains open to aerate the office.

You were standing in front of a bookcase filled with case studies or imageries of tendons and ligaments, you told him a week ago you were working on studying about mesomorphic body habitus especially for the combatant individuals who will be in need to fight titankins around the cities, Phainon could feel nothing but a swell of pride by your passion to help the people despite your position. He hears you murmur something out, unaware of his approach but he makes sure he does not startle you.

He sees you try to reach for something from the upper shelves, so to ease you he takes the scroll that barely grazes your fingers.

The atmosphere is suddenly drenched with undeniable tension.

You spin to face him and Phainon has you caged between his arms, gripping the rough texture of the shelves beneath his hands.

“Phainon?” your voice holds question and you see his face folding in once again, his brows furrowed and lips pursed, as if he’s battling with inner conflict.

You’re not a scholar that specializes in remedies or medicines, despite the many boxes of scrolls regarding health in your office you cannot seem to wrap your mind about it, but deep down you craved to help Phainon—a man who battles titans as his duty and to help people in need—it must've been really hard on him to handle such a task all on his own, so you lift a palm and cup his cheek with it, hoping to ease his worries a bit even if it’s just a simple touch of a flattened palm on his face.

You should not jump to conjectures regarding his feelings, but when Phainon leans into your touch with fervor you cannot help but let your mind wander. You were both quiet and somehow you were unaware that he had discarded his gloves somewhere on the couch mere minutes ago until you felt his skin on yours, a searing feeling washes over you and he presses his hand to the back of yours as if to bury his face into the touch you gave him willingly, as if he’s calling your palm his homage.

He’s scared to let you go, and at this point Phainon has backed you against the bookcases fully, you feel the shelves on your back and his chest on your front and he leans down with his arms around your waist pulling you impossibly closer, so close and so fulfilling—you are finally in each other’s embraces and the boundary of that is thinning at the seams. You don’t reject his touch and find your arms wrapped around his shoulders, the softness of his white hair on your cheek and you inhale, the scent of the sun parades with him in every direction his future follows and you’re lucky enough to be a bare witness of his simple glory, his humanistic craves.

Phainon’s affections for you are intentional, it always was. From the moment you first met to your current relationship, he's been the barest with his manners, he has always been direct with your companionship and quality time you both spent together between the four corners of your office in the Grove of Epiphany. It was never prophesied by his fate to be this close with you but the humanity within him wishes to be more selfish, especially when it comes to you.

So when Phainon heard that you and a selective other scholars were ambushed by Nikador’s titankin, he finds his heart seizing. He has always been like this, fragile in the heart, maybe that’s why despite her usual coldness Aglaea tries to soften her tone when she announces it to the rest of the Chrysos heirs. Phainon could feel the quick look overs from his companions, Tribbie and Castorice lingering longer in concern for him.

He truly wears his heart in his sleeves, Mydei would comment when Phainon would turn away and leave the chamber with impatience. Despite his snides, the prince would still tag along and give him company.

Maybe his wishes for your safety have been answered, because when both Phainon and Mydei reach the destination of the clinic in Okhema City, you were the one kneeling down, clumsily wrapping your colleagues’ scraped knees to the best of your abilities. Phainon’s chest is heaving, having to run down Marmoreal Palace with such a chaotic mind truly exhausted him. He finds himself leaning against the frame on the open door before his ears are laid bare to Mydeimos’ click of a tongue, irritated. ”I told you to calm down, didn't I? The party wasn’t severely injured, they had Kremnoan people assisting them.”

“I…apologise.” Phainon heaves. “For showing such a side of me.” He addresses the people in the room, most of them were your affected party and a medic or two. The room seizes its pause, words of reassurance for the nameless delivery come fluttering into his ears and Phainon physically relaxes. He spares a look at Mydei, only to find him already looking. His honey eyes remain stoney, however he tips his chin in your direction and Phainon smiles at the gesture.

Everyone goes back to their own business but Phainon’s heart remains erratic with both the fear and the adrenaline.

He feels someone in front of him and his eyes open, landing on you.

Your fingers inch towards him, fixing his collar and the front of his attire. “It’s crooked.” you tell him and his blue eyes gentle like the psalm.

“I came here as fast as I can.” he breathes out. “I thought—” he stumbled on his own words. “You, I—”

“I made you worried, didn't I?” Your brows are pinched.

Phainon reaches out to touch your hand, the one lingering by his collar fabric and intertwining his fingers with the back of your hand. He lifts your palm to his face, his breath on your wrist as he feels your warm pulse on his lips.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You cannot help the muddled fluster from painting your cheeks. “Phainon, we are…” we are in public, you wanted to tell him. But then your thoughts stumble, his intentions were always clear with you. He’s well-aware you two are under public gaze and yet he still showed such fondness for you.

It’s his public declaration of love.

You flinch when you hear Mydei’s heavy sigh. “Oi, Deliverer. I talked with the medics already, the situation here has been handled. I'll report back to Aglaea so get out of here.” His stare drags over to you, “Both of you.”

You would’ve turned and apologized to the prince if it weren’t for Phainon interlacing your fingers together and slipping out the clinic. Okhema’s dawn bathes your figure in gold and you tighten your hold on his—Phainon squeezes your palm as a response.

The pale-haired man turns to a secluded corner and immediately gathers you into his embrace. You chuckle at his clinginess, your fingers reaching out to tangle on the hairs behind his neck.

“Phainon,” You muse. “I’m okay.”

“I miss you.” Phainon’s voice is on your neck. “I’ve missed you so much I wanted to visit you, it’s been a week since I’ve seen you and now—I thought you were hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” You pull him closer. “I was the one that proposed this research expedition. I suppose I failed to take into account the dangers of visiting Janusopolis at this time. Because of me, my colleagues were injured.”

He has your face on his palms, blue eyes enough for you to sink into its depths like an anchor. “It’s not your fault.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

You cannot help the heat on your cheeks when Phainon pulls you into another hug, you relish in his golden presence. It has been a habit of his to start tracing your skin with his pining hands. When he pulls away, his thumbs brush over the pillows of your cheeks before travelling towards the arch of your eyelids, lingering slowly to the curvature of your lips then down the base of your neck. You nuzzle into his wrist when you find his hands on your head, rubbing through the roots of your tendrils. That’s when he speaks up, a bottled sort of rasp leaving between his lips.

He suggested that you stay with him in the city for a few more days, and you don’t see any reason to reject his offer. When the day grows gradually, you find yourself inside of a private room with Phainon—after the whole ambush your attire is caked with gravel and grime and you want nothing more than to take a long bath and rid yourself of the dirt.

“The water is warm now.” Phainon enters the room. “I placed a basket beside the pool with the oils. Just let me know if there’s anything else you need.” You cannot help but smile at his accommodations.

You see him freeze, blue eyes blinking at you.

You tilt your head. “Is something on my face?”

“You smiled.” He simply says. “I don’t think I ever saw you smile before.”

He hasn't? You pondered a bit, frowning. You could've sworn you smiled at him before.

Phainon calls out your name.

You turn to look at him, and his cheeks are flushed and rosy. He’s blushing red.

It did not take long for him to eat up the remainder of the gaps between the two of you, dissecting his expression—he looked like a mess. His eyes held a certain twinkle, his lips were pursed and his cheeks were ruddy.

Smitten beholds his eyes, then he holds your face again so delicately.

“Please, do it again.” Phainon asked you. “For me? You’re beautiful when you smile.”

His requests make your cheeks burn, but nonetheless you smile at him again, and again and again. Because at this very moment, you knew that Phainon—once just an imperfectly perfect hero to Okhema—was now someone who cannot stop being on your mind, his every tone and texture, every dip and curve of him has woven into your soul and you breathed him.

He was your very own warm sun encased in flesh and bones.

And you knew that Phainon felt the same way, for he had finally leaned down and pressed his tenacious lips against your own. Finally, finally expressing the fact that you too plagued his mind and he loved you so, so much with every waking fiber of his being.

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ Prologue

⭐︎ When the sun hits, she’ll be waiting

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, post apocalypse, grumpy!steve x sunshine!reader, gore, blood, mean!steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Another patrol. Patrols he's been doing for a whole year, and nothing ever changes. Maybe he had to kill one demodog, or demobat, but overall, it was the same walk, the same stance, the same weariness… only this time, something new appeared in his walk.

Word count: 4.8k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I are back with another Steve series, I hope you're as excited as I am, you got a lot of angst, fluff and smut coming your way! And also, shoutout to @ghost-proofbaby who picked the title for this story, thank you my love

series masterlist

☀︎

It was funny. 

He had watched apocalypse movies. He had seen the terrible visual effects done with strawberry syrup, the gelatin that exploded pretending to be brains and flesh, the people becoming zombies and doing loud and stupid moans in their chase. He knew the apocalypse would never look like that, but he also never believed he would live in something very much alike, and not at all a movie.

They had not defeated Vecna. They have killed him, but defeated? No. He is gone but he left behind the world he created, he reached his goal and got what he wanted, something that Steve and the others were very blind to at first, they watched him die; they burned his body to make sure that he was gone for good. They thought they won, but it was a false victory, one that gave them all the opportunity to recover, opportunities that included them trying to become a town again, yet after three months of what they thought was safe, the first demogorgon crawled out of the big gates that were created. Killed instantly. Then another. Then twenty. Then a hundred. Demogorgons, demobats, demodogs, and other upside down creatures... and this time, they came with infectious venom.

Venom that turned people into bloodthirsty, flesh eating monsters with nothing but death in their eyes, people turned into monsters who became part of Vecna’s army, crawling into homes and houses, spreading way too quickly and unable to be stopped from claiming not only the town but all of the country and soon the whole globe. 

They noticed when it was already too late, when the world was already too far gone and the lives of many were lost and claimed by darkness. 

When the realization started sinking in and he saw, felt the panic, the fear, the desperation, the dread and death, he felt like he was going to lose himself, knowing that the world he once knew was gone and never to be brought back again, that it was all lost and someday to be forgotten but a feeling he hadn’t noticed yet was acceptance. 

Because if anyone knew how to adapt, then it was him. Unlike many others, he had no home that he lost, he never had one in the first place. His parents' house was only ever a big lonely space that he never found comfort in until his friends filled that space with warmth and laughter, laughter that still echoes in his ears whenever he thinks of simpler times, laughter that he thinks he will never hear again. 

The house is now even emptier and colder than before, claimed by vines, dust and spider webs, just like most of the houses in Hawkins are… or the rest of the world. He passed familiar houses before, Dustin’s home and Lucas’s, he only glanced at them, not bearing to look longer, not wanting to feel, not wanting to look back at what he lost. 

The gun in his hand feels light, nothing like it used to feel the first few times he had to hold one or use one. His footsteps are barely audible as he walks through the empty cul-de-sac, eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed, he is on high alert, he always is, even when he doesn’t have to. 

He feels relaxed, despite the circumstances, despite the death that could be waiting around any corner, he feels relaxed. He walks past the abandoned cars and houses, watching out for any creature that could come crawling out from any hole. A lone plushie lies on the ground, dirty and splattered with blood – a sight that would have made him sick a year ago, thinking about whose blood it could’ve been, now makes him feel indifference. He had seen so many ugly, disturbing things, nothing truly fazes him anymore, it’s awful and sometimes he wonders if he is still a good person or if the horrors of this world have turned him into a monster as well, if the darkness had claimed him too like it had claimed the sick people. Sometimes he feels pain, sometimes he feels nothing but today he feels a sliver of sadness, one that he swallows down as quickly as it comes, he can’t stand it. 

The sun shines down on him but he barely feels the warmth even though it’s there, the light of it illuminates the empty road ahead of him, the chaos left behind, the rotten grass and the dead flowers, they don’t grow anymore, the birds don’t sing anymore, he wonders if there are even any left in this world, most have died, just like the ones he used to see every day, they have died. 

A soft huff falls from his lips when he notices that the laces on his boots have come undone, he stops walking and looks around, making sure that nothing and nobody will creep up on him the moment he kneels down, he would be surprised if something like that still happened around here though. Hawkins is empty of people and monsters, it was only the doorway for them to get through to get to the rest of the world, this place is just as abandoned as the houses are. 

The houses where his friends used to live. Where Lucas used to live. Dustin. The Wheelers. The Byers. That home that was lived in by other people last year. His house. Those remained intact, yet empty and filled with vines, darkness, dust of the memories from those who once lived in there. The only place that got swallowed whole was Forest Hills trailer park. Where Max used to live. Where Eddie used to live.

Placing the gun in his holster, he kneels down and reaches for the undone laces, wasting no second to tie them. His ears pick up on any sound, on the wind that howls through the bushes and the trees, through the broken windows, the bells that still hang from the ceilings on the empty porches. His eyes never stay focused on only the task before him, he is always ready to fight, to kill but it’s been a while since he had to use his gun or a machete, or even his bat. 

But today the hairs on his neck stand up for the first time in a while. Goosebumps arise on his skin and he feels it, a presence behind him. Steve swallows harshly, not knowing what to expect the moment he turns around, a demogorgon, a demodog or a sick one. He ties the knot on his boot, tightly. 

Unlike a few months before, he no longer feels fear whenever he is about to stare evil in it’s eyes, he no longer dreads it, he no longer feels his heart skipping or racing, he feels nothing anymore. 

He reaches for his gun and jumps to his feet, raising his arm and the gun, turning on his heel and aiming at the presence that lingered behind him, the one that would have normally lunged at him by now but it’s not a creature staring back at him nor is it a sick person, a sick person wouldn’t raise her arms up in surrender or step back in fear. 

“Hang on! I’m not bitten! I’m alive, I’m still alive!” Your voice is panicked, your eyes are too. 

Steve’s jaw is clenched, his eyes move up and down your body, taking in the state of your clothes first, no holes or tears in them, they are clean – clean for the end of the world. Your hair is tied, hanging down your shoulders in two braids, there are knives tucked into your belt and a gun in your thigh holster that you have no intent to reach for. You don’t look like a threat but Steve learned to not be deceived by appearances only. He eyes your exposed skin, where your flannel had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a wound, not a bite, not a scratch, only a cut that he can’t help but wonder how it got there or why. 

“Turning takes days,” Steve murmurs as he tears his gaze away from you for a second to scan the area around you two, who knows what you had dragged here or who. 

“I can sing Madonna for you?” 

He rolls his eyes as he looks back at you, for someone armed with knives and a glock 17 strapped to her thigh, you sure do look like a frightened cat, ready to run. You are not a threat. He knows it; he sees it; he feels it. He knows danger; you aren’t that. 

“You’re not bitten?” He asks as he lowers his gun, letting you relax again. 

You shake your head, though you can still see the hesitance in his eyes, the mistrust. 

“Do I–” you start innocently, blushing already as you look at the man before you, “do I need to get naked? If so, I’d prefer a woman, if that is possible.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly, ignoring the heat that rises in his cheeks. He puts his gun back in his holster. 

“Fuck, no, no… I believe you, what– what are you doing in the middle of Hawkins?” 

He sees the way your shoulders relax, the way you take a deep breath in and then out, lowering your arms to your sides. 

“I was in a small camp, a few towns away, and I’m trying to get to my old home… though, I got a bit lost cause a bat ripped my map out of my hands…” You frown. 

“Demobat.” 

You tilt your head to the side, furrowing your brows, “what?” 

Steve scrunches his nose up, shaking his head at himself, he keeps forgetting. 

“Nevermind.”

Your head is still tilted, your brows still furrowed, you look him up and down, no words fall from your lips, for a moment you are quiet. 

He grows a little flustered beneath your gaze, not that he would ever admit, you are just the first stranger he had encountered in a while, a stranger who creeped up on him. 

“You’re not very attentive.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

“You only noticed me when I was already too close.”

He wants to laugh… a little. 

“Sounds like you were up to no good,” Steve retorts, glaring at you to which your eyes only widen, filled with yet more panic. You open your mouth and close it again, a few times, the shock not letting you speak but when you do, you stutter and shake your head. 

“No! Oh my god! I’m just saying – listen, I want no trouble, I’m just passing through, I just want to go home.”

Steve can’t help but be a bit amused by the panic and the fear in your eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you!” 

If laughing hadn’t become such a strange thing to him these days, he would do it now, yeah, he would chuckle, he would laugh loudly. 

“That’s funny,” he mumbles under his breath, looking you up and down one more time before he turns on his heels and continues his journey down the road. His boots hit the gravel roughly, footsteps echoing through the empty streets, it only takes three seconds before a second pair joins, just like he had suspected. 

“Wait!”

You catch up with him quickly, walking beside him now. He feels your eyes on him but he doesn’t turn to look. 

“Is this a community?”

He wouldn’t call it that, the few people that stayed here all fend for themselves, just like him and his friends do. 

“Would be a very shitty one if anyone could just walk in.”

“Right…” He hears you murmur softly. “Are you passing through?”

“No.”

“Do you live here?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

Steve rolls his eyes, side-eying you. He is not very talkative anymore, he finds no joy in holding conversations, let alone in answering questions, he barely uses his voice nowadays, he doesn’t feel bad about it, or even guilty. Normally he would keep quiet or even snap at whoever is bothering him, today he can’t find it in himself to be mean… meaner. 

“Cause it’s my hometown. Why are you by yourself?” Steve asks without looking at you. 

“I left my last camp cause I want to go home, like I said before–”

“I know, I mean why are you traveling by yourself? It’s not safe out here, especially not for women.” Steve rounds the corner, inching closer to the only house that has a light peeking through the boards on the windows. 

“It’s not safe for anyone out here, not just for women,” you correct him, looking at him in surprise when he opens the gate to the backyard before you and lets you walk in first. “But I haven’t seen anyone since I left the camp, you’re the first person…” You mumble and look down at your converse, that look very dirty in comparison to his black boots. 

You stand before him now, close, a little too close for a stranger, though he makes no move to put more distance between you. He sees the wound on your shoulder clearer now, a cut caused by either a knife or glass. 

You tilt your head up again, you are close enough to see his face now properly, the color of his eyes, hazel. Freckles and moles kiss his skin, his features are soft, his expression isn’t. His brown hair is very… voluminous, his beard is trimmed, he looks clean and he doesn’t smell, a rarity nowadays. He is tall, his shoulders are wide, he is certainly much stronger too, his biceps strain against his black shirt, and it only now dawns on you that you followed a man to what you presume is his home, you followed with no hesitation. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat and take a step back. He had shown no interest in you, he doesn’t seem fond of you following him either. He is just as much of a threat as you are, you tell yourself. 

“So er… is it just you here?” You ask, looking at the house he stopped by, the house you presume is his home, his fortress. 

“No.”

You nod, pursing your lips as you look into his cold eyes but he quickly breaks eye contact and starts walking again. 

“Where is everyone and how many people are here?” You ask as you continue on following him, staring at the back of his head, his mullet looks good, taken care of, you notice. “Also why don’t you have any fences, aren’t you afraid of sick ones getting in? And–”

Steve turns on his heel, sighing loudly as he glares down at you, not even moving back when you almost bump into him. 

“Will you shut up for a second!?” He grumbles, glaring at you again as he stares you down. 

You press your lips together, gazing up into his dark eyes, not breaking eye contact. The look on his face should intimidate you, the cold eyes should scare you, he should scare you but he doesn’t. 

“Have any monsters gotten in yet and if so, have you ever fought any? I ran into a dog like creature the other day, that fucker nearly bit my hand off, I–”

Two seconds. You shut up for two fucking seconds. 

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, raising his hand up, he runs his fingers through his hair, his annoyance doesn’t faze you in the slightest, you open your mouth again, ready to ask another question but someone else beats you to it. 

“Well, what do we have here?” 

You instantly press your lips together, throwing your hand to your holster as you snap your head to look towards the gate and at the person who cut you off, startled by his presence, you take a step closer to the stranger you just met as you eye the man with the long hair, who is looking at you with a smile on his face. His eyes are kind, much kinder than the ones of the man beside you. He is holding a box, a gun is secured and tucked into his belt. 

“Who’s this lovely lady, Harrington?” He asks, not stepping closer yet. 

Harrington. 

You don’t even notice the girl beside him until she clears her throat, offering you a small smile. Her hair is long and curly too, her bangs cover her eyes a little, a rifle is strapped over her shoulder. 

“Someone passing through,” Harrington grumbles under his breath, clearly wanting you to keep passing through. “She’ll be on her way now.”

It’s getting dark now, it’s not safe to continue your travel when the sun sets. You planned to find shelter when you stepped foot into this town, maybe find some cans of food in one of the abandoned houses. 

The girl meets your eyes, hesitating, she shakes her head. 

“Oh, it’s getting dark, besides she could use a bath, Steve.” The girl says, frowning as she looks you up and down. 

Offended, you scrunch your nose up and look down at yourself, “hey, I do my best in any possible lake!” You argue, despite the surprise in you. Every group, every community you have come across before, did not offer baths or shelter, not after your pleading, at least. 

“She has to go to her hometown–”

“All alone?” The girl asks, frowning at the man – at Steve, beside you. She glances at the one next to her, they share the same look in their eyes. You wonder if they are siblings. 

“Yes, all alone.” Steve sighs. 

They look at him in disappointment. 

He doesn’t want you here. 

It’s nothing you aren’t used to. 

You’re on your own, you always have been. Though you can’t remember the last time you had a proper shower, a real meal or a night full of sleep. You don’t know how to hunt, you wash yourself in lakes and you never sleep through the night, no matter how safe you think you are, you can’t sleep. You can’t even remember the last time you felt fully rested, not even the communities that provided you shelter gave you that real feeling of safety. 

You don’t know these people, the man beside you and the pair before you, but the kind blue eyes and the chocolate brown ones are different from any of the ones you have looked into before – you can feel the indifference from Steve, he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t trust you. 

“I-It’s fine, I was just passing through,” you shrug, offering a smile, despite the weird feeling in your stomach. “Do you… maybe have a map for me though?”

“Yeah,” Steve instantly speaks up, clearly wanting to get rid of you quickly. 

She crosses her arms over her chest, ignoring your question, she glares at Steve, “did she ask to stay?” 

Steve clenches his jaw, glaring back at her with an icy cold stare. 

“We can’t afford another mouth to feed–” 

The guy with the curly hair steps forward with a sigh, approaching Steve with a stubborn look on his face, “I’m keeping her.” 

Steve scrunches his face up, scoffing at his friend, “she’s not a fucking puppy!” 

Though he doesn’t listen to him and turns towards you, nudging his head at you, motioning for you to follow him as he goes to open the door to the house, “come on, we’re gonna eat dinner soon, we’re making stew. And you can get cleaned up if you want, Nancy will give you some clean clothes.”

You want to follow badly, the mention of food, of a warm meal makes your mouth water, and you wouldn’t say no to a shower and fresh clothes either but Steve’s unwelcoming expression makes you hesitate. 

He is looking down at the ground, his jaw tense, his eyes unimpressed. 

The girl, Nancy, she is looking at him still, waiting for him to look at her too but he doesn’t. There is something in her eyes that you can’t read, the same look that resides in his own. 

With a sigh, she looks away and starts walking towards you after closing the gate behind her. She can see the hesitation on your face. 

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, we’re leaving soon too–”

“We are not,” Steve says harshly, nearly making you flinch. 

“We are.” Nancy argues, her brows are pulled together, her lips curl downwards. 

She is certainly more intimidating than he is. 

“You can stay for the night, like Eddie said, we’ll have dinner and you can get cleaned up, tomorrow you can be on your way with the map you have asked for, but it’s getting dark now – so, you’re staying.” 

“Okay.”

It’s funny, normally that would have been a warning sign for you to run. People aren’t usually so persistent for you to stay and if they are, you never stay long enough to find out what evilness they have planned for you. Usually you aren’t so trusting, but her kind blue eyes make it hard not to. 

Finding kindness in this world is a rarity nowadays, you wonder if these people ever encountered real danger – not the creatures, or the sick people but humans, you found out that those can be much worse, evil. You figure that they haven’t, otherwise they wouldn’t be so trusting towards you, even Steve, he didn’t ask you to take your weapons off of you, didn’t tell you to hand them over, he just let you follow, and his friends open the door to their home for you, they let you inside, he does too. 

You have a growing suspicion that they don’t really know the world they live in now, they haven’t seen past this untouched town, they haven’t seen what people are capable of, how cruel and evil they can be, because if they did, you would not be welcome here, not so easily, no matter how harmless you seem to them. 

But the kindness you are greeted with today encourages the hope that never died inside of you. 

Hope that died in him a long time ago. 

Hope that will die in you just like it did in him. 

He watches you closely, the way you look around the house the three of them have stayed in for the past year, you throw your backpack to the ground, leaving it abandoned by the stairs. You eye the radio station in the living room, curiosity lingers in your eyes, he notices how your fingers twitch but you don’t touch it, you draw back from it when you catch him staring at you like a hawk – he almost feels bad when you shy away. 

You turn your back to him and look at the bookshelf, tilting your head to the side. 

Steve should stop it, the staring, but he can’t, he doesn’t know why, you are not a threat, he doesn’t need to watch you but he keeps doing it, slowly following you through the house like you are his prey. 

You are the first stranger to enter this house, the first and the only. Every person who stumbled upon this ghost town was turned and scared away by him. He doesn’t know why he let you inside, Eddie and Nancy wouldn’t be able to keep you here, no matter how persistent and stubborn they had been. If they didn’t want you here, you would have been long gone and not walking around the house. 

But something about you makes him mad.

Maybe it’s the way you so easily fit in, or maybe it’s the way you fall for Eddie’s charm and giggle at every attempt of his to make you smile, maybe it’s the way you get along with Nancy right away, Nancy who is usually distrusting of anyone she doesn’t know, or maybe it’s the way you look at him when you sit across from him during dinner, the golden light from the fireplace touching your soft skin. Your eyes are big and innocent, the air around you is too, like you had been untouched by the horrors of this world, like nothing ever happened to you, like you didn’t lose anything or anyone, like the world didn’t even scratch the surface of you. 

He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know anything about you but he knows what you are – a naive and stupid girl, one that throws herself into danger, the cut on your shoulder and the scars on your upper arm are proof of that, you won’t survive long, people like you never do. 

He stares into your eyes and you stare back, eyeing him while Eddie talks your ear off, who is happy to have someone new to talk with, considering he is stuck with people who aren’t the most talkative. 

You blink, holding his gaze for a while. 

You are trouble, the kind that he wants to stay away from, the kind he needs to stay away from. 

And yet he finds himself knocking on the bathroom door to give you the toiletries and the clothes that Nancy had prepared for you after dinner. He is huffing loudly when he hears you singing, or humming. The only person he ever heard hum in a shower nowadays was Eddie, and he did it just to be an obnoxious prick. You, you are just happy, and who the hell is happy nowadays with how the world is? A psychopath. You are a fucking psychopath.

“One sec!” Your voice was sweet as the water is turned off, and soon after, the door is opening and his eyes are everywhere. You are wrapped in a towel, holding it tightly on your chest where the edge is tucked in. Your wet hair falling down your shoulders, the droplets all over your skin, and you have a stupid smile on your face. That snaps him out from the trance of staring at you more than he should. He blames it on not meeting another woman in a while. The only one in this ‘community’ of his age is Nancy, and she and him made it clear that whatever happened when Vecna was alive, that it was purely out of adrenaline and the need to be or feel cared for by someone in that moment.

“Have your stuff. Remember to give the clothes back before you leave tomorrow.” He extends his arms towards you, the body cream on top of the clothes, making you gasp as your arms shoot to take them from him, your eyes stuck on the white bottle.

“Oh god… thank you… I can’t– I can’t thank you enough–”

“Not me. Nancy and Eddie. I wanted you gone, still want you gone.” His eyes are looking away from you, down the hall as he speaks. He is harsh and he knows it, but there is a limit on water usage in the community, and you just used a ton. Which makes him think that Nancy and Eddie are being serious on leaving, not caring for the limits any longer. 

Your eyes look up, catching onto the patch of freckles and moles on his neck, as well as a very prominent scar. As if he had been choked by some rope, going all the way around. You were hurt by his words, but yet, this guy is being mean, and wants to kick you out, and he is standing in front of you handing you body cream and clothes, when he could have refused. He could have shot you and defy his friends. He could have been pushier.

And so your hope doesn’t die.

“I’ll thank them later… but yet, thank you, as well.” You persist and he grumbles something under his breath, his head turning to look at you one last time. Hopefully, the last time he sees it before he wakes up tomorrow. 

“Have a safe trip tomorrow.” And with that, he walks down the hall and towards his room, slowly closing the door behind him. Robin is going to kill him. Letting a random girl inside the house. Eddie and Nancy were out of their minds. Everyone was, except him. Hopefully.

He hears murmurs between you and Nancy in the hallway, giggles that disappear as you two disappear into Nancy’s room. She is letting you sleep on the bed with her. What the fuck was Nance thinking? You are a stranger… A stranger who seemed harmless enough, a stranger who looked… tired. Like the only thing you wanted to do was sleep, and sleep, and sleep. 

He might be over-exaggerating with how he is treating you, but can anyone blame him for it?

His eyes move towards a scarf on his bed frame, his fingers caressing the hand-knitted mustard colored cotton between his fingers. He hears Eddie whistling as he goes into his room and his anger bubbles up inside of him again.

He isn’t leaving this town. It is a stupid idea to do so. It is reckless. It is also going against the community’s rules. He isn’t going to leave. He can’t leave Robin behind, and Eddie and Nancy know she won’t be coming along.

He won’t leave the last thing that is keeping him alive.

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.3

social media au

part two here

•

f1 BREAKING: Norris and Y/L/N are out of the race ⚠️

view more comments

username1 omg they’re gonna end up killing each other

username2 damn, but it was clearly Lando’s fault

-> username3 right?? Why didn’t he leave enough space???

username4 the fact that Y/N got out of the car and almost threw hands at Lando she’s a BADASS

-> username5 she isn’t taking shit from him, go girl 🤭

-> username6 as she SHOULD

username7 Oscar asking on the radio if she was okay before asking about his OWN teammate 👀

•

real life

The post-race chaos was a blur as you stormed into the McLaren garage, your pulse hammering in your ears. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind replaying the sickening crunch of metal and the stomach-lurching spin off the track. The collision with Lando had been entirely avoidable, and you knew it.

Lando was sitting on a workbench, still in his race suit, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw clenched. He set his water bottle down, clearly bracing himself for what was coming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?” you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He stood, matching your intensity. “Don’t start with me, Y/N. You were just as much at fault.”

“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” you snapped, stepping closer. “I gave you enough room! You turned in on me like you wanted to take us both out!”

His eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t respond right away, and that silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“This wasn’t just a racing incident,” you pressed, your voice shaking with fury. “That was personal. What were you thinking, huh? That you’d knock some sense into me? Scare me? Or were you just trying to hurt me because you still can’t stand the fact that I walked away from you?”

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but warning.

“No, I won’t stop!” you shouted. “You’ve been acting like this ever since I left you—since I finally decided I deserved better than someone who cheats!”

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, and you saw the flicker of guilt cross his face before he masked it with anger.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he said tightly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” you shot back. “You ruined us, Lando. You did. And now you’re trying to ruin me on the track, too?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that out there.”

“Then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were trying to prove a point.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said bitterly.

Lando looked up at you, his expression cracking just enough for you to see the regret underneath. “I lost my head, okay? Seeing you… seeing you so happy, like none of it even mattered—it got to me.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding through you. “So you risked my safety—our safety—because you’re jealous? Because you can’t stand the fact that I’ve moved on?”

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “Maybe I hate seeing you with them—watching you smile at other guys like you used to smile at me. Do you know how hard it is to see that and know it’s my fault? That I’m the one who screwed it up?”

Your breath caught, his confession hitting you like a punch to the gut. But it didn’t soften your anger. If anything, it made it worse.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Lando,” you said coldly. “You made your choice. You cheated. And I walked away because I deserve better than someone who couldn’t even respect me.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of your words clearly hitting him, but you weren’t done.

“And now? Now you’re letting your jealousy and regret turn into something dangerous. You could’ve ended my career out there today. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ve moved on, Lando. Maybe it’s time you try to do the same.”

He didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the quiet of the garage. But as you stepped out into the paddock, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—that whatever unresolved emotions still lingered between you would find a way to surface again.

•

yourusername not the result I wanted for this weekend… but I’ll keep pushing to get back those lost points! See you next weekend 💪🏻🫶🏻

view more comments

username1 clearly not your fault! That penalty was well given to Lando!

fernandoalo_oficial you got this chica 💪🏻

alex_albon let’s go! glad you’re not hurt

username2 get it girl!! 😍

oscarpiastri 💪🏻

username3 the next dts season is gonna be INSANE I can’t wait 🤭

•

real life

The day had been long and emotionally exhausting. After your fight with Lando, you had barely made it through the mandatory media debriefs without snapping at someone. Now, standing in the paddock under the setting sun, you were relieved that the weekend was finally over.

“Rough day, huh?” Fernando’s familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to find your teammate leaning casually against the wall, his helmet bag slung over one shoulder. Despite the chaos of the day, Fernando always seemed composed, a stark contrast to your current state.

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

He nodded knowingly, then tilted his head slightly. “I heard you’re heading to the Aston Martin headquarters tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Have to go over some data with the engineers.”

“Same here,” he said, his tone casual. “Why don’t you skip the hassle of a commercial flight and ride with me? My jet’s leaving in an hour.”

The offer caught you off guard, but it also sounded like the perfect way to escape the mess of today. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Fernando said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to have some company.”

An hour later, you were seated across from Fernando on his private jet, a glass of wine in hand. The plush interior and quiet hum of the engines felt like a world away from the chaos of the paddock.

“To surviving another race weekend,” Fernando said, raising his glass with a smirk.

You chuckled, clinking your glass against his. “Barely.”

As the jet cruised through the night sky, the wine kept flowing, and so did the conversation. Fernando was surprisingly easy to talk to, his sharp wit and dry humor making you laugh more than you had all weekend. You found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

But somewhere between the second and third glass, the atmosphere began to shift. His gaze lingered a little too long, and your laughs turned into soft smiles. You couldn’t ignore the way his voice dipped when he said your name, or the way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the bottle.

It was reckless, you knew that, but when he leaned closer, his dark eyes searching yours for permission, you didn’t stop him. His lips were on yours before you could think, the kiss slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about what he wanted.

One thing led to another, and soon you found yourself tangled in the sheets of the jet’s private cabin. It was a blur of heated whispers, soft gasps, and the kind of passion you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Afterward, as you lay beside him, reality began to sink in. You sat up, pulling the blanket around you, your mind racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering warmth of his touch.

Fernando propped himself up on one elbow, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said simply.

“I mean it, Fernando,” you pressed, turning to face him. “We’re teammates. This… this could complicate everything. It was a mistake.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded. “I get it. One time, no strings.”

His calm response surprised you. You had expected more pushback, maybe even an argument, but his easy acceptance only reinforced why you had always respected him.

“Nothing changes between us,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re still teammates. Still focused on the team. This doesn’t leave this jet.”

You exhaled in relief, appreciating his maturity. “Thank you.”

Fernando gave you a small smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly. “Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As you settled back into the seat, your thoughts swirled. You told yourself it was a one-time lapse in judgment, a fleeting moment of weakness.

•

yourusername alexa play “kill bill” by SZA 🔪

view more comments

oscarpiastri I hope you liked the cake

-> yourusername you spoil me too much, pastry🥐

-> georgerussel63 you’ve never sent me cake, I’m jealous oscarpiastri

-> yourusername come get your man carmenmmundt 😴

username1 omg Oscar sent her the cake?? What am I missing???

-> username2 RIGHT?? her dating her ex’s teammate would be an amazing revenge 😭

username3 the caption 💀

•

thatf1podcast here’s a sneak peek of our episode with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N 👀

view more comments

username1 I need all the teaaaaa 😏

yourusername it was a pleasure 🤭

username2 I NEED THIS EPISODE NOW

username3 I’m loving it 😌

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

- part 4 coming soon

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 2)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none, this is so short I’m so sorry I just don’t have the motivation to finish this ugh..

part 1

As soon as the Brazilian GP was over, you were overcome with guilt for not being there for Lando. You already knew how it would look like after an unsuccessful race, he would shift all the blame to himself and that failure would eat him up for days.

You couldn't help but wonder if anything would have been different if you had gone to Brazil with him. Probably not, but at least you could have given him the comfort he so desperately needed right then and there. And that's why as soon as he returned home, you immediately found yourself knocking on the door of his apartment in Monaco.

"Hey, Lan" You gave him a soft smile looking straight into his eyes when he opened the door.

He smiled weakly back at you, saying nothing. He didn't even need to say anything because you could see the sadness in his sleepless eyes, so you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight and comforting hug.

"What took you so long?" He whispered as he buried his head in your neck, holding his arms tightly around your waist.

"I'm sorry, I came as soon as I could" You said gently caressing the back of his head.

The evening went by with you trying to talk to him about it, but he wasn't in the mood for it. He just wanted to take his mind off what was, for him, a tough defeat and enjoy your company, so you didn't push it.

You ordered food, had dinner, and then turned on a movie. Everyone was on their own end of the couch, Lando was lying on the elongated part, and you were sitting a little further away from him.

As the movie went on, you kept adjusting your position because it became uncomfortable for you to keep sitting.

"What's wrong?" Lando asked when you let out a deep sigh. "Are you getting bored with the movie?"

"No, but my back is starting to hurt." You stretch as you say.

"Come here" He extends his arm, signaling you to come lie down next to him.

"It's okay, don't worry" You want to. So much. But you know you shouldn't.

"Come" He insists.

You sigh, but move over to him anyway, resting your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. The movie continues, but Lando completely shifts his focus from the movie to you. Lucky for him, you don't see his gaze drop down to you as you lie curled up next to him, but you definitely feel his fingers gently playing with your hair. You just hope that the butterflies you feel in your stomach don't jump out and give you away.

"Are you okay, Lan?" You ask looking up at him.

He smiles at you and places his hand on your cheek. "I'm better now"

You blush at his gesture, thinking to yourself this is not what friends do. Lando was almost certain he was going to kiss you tonight. This was the perfect opportunity with you on him like this, with you pressed tightly against him and in his arms. Everything was leading to that.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be with you for the weekend. I was really busy finishing up the project I'd been working on."

"Were you really?" He asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Of course I was. I don't understand why do you think I would lie to you?”

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Maybe you wanted to be with your date that you still haven't told me about." The butterflies in your stomach fly away as soon as he mentions the date.

At that very moment, so late at night, your phone, which was next to you on the couch, rang and the screen displayed Charles' name and surname and seeing that, Lando's heart dropped.

"Charles Leclerc? You're fucking Charles Leclerc?"

@tvdtw4ever @gulphulp @harrysdimple05 @444-leqz @htpssgavi @honethatty12 @l-vroom4 @enjoythebutterflies3 @charlesgirl16 @scopeiguess @dontsupressthejess

[kittysarchive]

Enhypen hyung line- Hard doms

*toxic enhypen coming very soon!

warnings- mostly written in dot points, includes smut, dom enhypen, hard dom, sub reader, mean enhypen, teasing enhypen, cumming inside (DONTT), punishing reader

Heeseung

He doesn't have time for you antics.

He could come across cold but he just wants you to shut up.

He'll make you use a safe word, just so he knows your annoying whines or punches to let him go, are you actually enjoying yourself.

Heeseung can switch though.

He wont change from being nice but his mean attitude will change.

Instead of insulting you or getting tired of your squirming he can be a mean tease.

Going extra slow

Mocking you

Only caring about his own pleasure....

"Fuck stop squirming" Heeseung huffs, gripping your hips, pushing them deeper into the mattress. You mewl at being manhandled.

"You like that huh? you dirty slut" He laughs, pulling his hips back to brutally thrust back into you. You cry out at the insult, but even yourself couldn't stop clenching around his cock. He emits another laugh, as his sends a hard thrust back into you.

"My fucking slut, that's what you are" He loosens his grip on your hips as he finishes inside you.

Jay

He's not too different from Heeseung

Except the fact, he more scolds you then teases you

He's annoyed, lets just say

Whether you had been teasing him all day

Giving him some attitude or going behind his back to hang out somewhere he doesn't like or talk to someone he doesn't like...

All these will end up with you on the bed, head down ass up

You don't complain though

It hurts yeah but maybe, this is what you wanted from the start of the day

And Jay isn't dumb

Thats why he scolds you and sometimes insults

Cos why did you have to be a brat?

He would have given you something, but now your getting this

"Little brat is what you are" Jay growles behind you, gripping your ass tightly and spreading your cheeks open. His cock was already deep up against your plush walls, but he knew he could go deeper. Your whimper is drowned out into the blankets.

"You don't want this anymore? This is all you fucking beg for" He pushes his cock roughly into you. You can feel his balls tickle your cunt.

"Take it all baby" Jay groans, pulling back before thrusting into you again, soon he'd have you on your back, and start all over again.

Jake

A little less brutal then the others but he does affect you with his words

Making you feel smaller then him

Making you feel worthless

Making you submit to him because how dare you be a brat and give him attitude

Of course this is all your fault, he's just fucking some sense into you

'your to rough' that's how he needs to be with you he thinks t himself, and he believes himself.

"You won't do it again right? I know you won't you whore" You whimper at the insult, mouth stuffed off his cocked, you couldn't bite back a response.

"You look better like this anyway, beneath me" Jake laughs to himself, leaning back on his elbows, enjoying you struggle to take all of him. Even with the tears pricking your eyes and the gags that bring you close to throwing up, he won't let you take a break, otherwise how else will you learn.

Sitting up straight, he roughly holds your head, pushing you till your nose was touching his pubic hairs. Feeling a wave of nausea as you feel his cock slide down your throat, you suppress it. This was where you were meant to be.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon enjoys when you make a fool of yourself

Making you beg

Making you cry

Making you gag over his cock

Even making you cum early and apologise

He loves it all

Even if you have done nothing wrong, that's just how he is in bed.

Because if you did do something wrong, why would he fuck you? It brings you pleasure

He'd rather jerk off in front of you

Or make you deep throat him

Anything that gives him pleasure and avoids you of any

"Please.....I'm sorry....Sorry for being a brat" You sob in front off him. After giving him a head, not only did you have his cum on his lips, but his cock was still hard.

"You think this is what I want to hear from your right now?' Sunghoon snaps at you, holding you hair tightly and pushing your head towards his cock again.

"Fucking suck" You take a breath before taking him into his mouth. Maybe just maybe later tonight h'' wake you and let you cum...maybe just maybe.

[koyagifs]

𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮

pairing: seonghwa x reader au: idol | friends to strangers | genre: angst word count: 1.1k synopsis: seonghwa didnt mean for things to end badly, but boy did he sure regreit when you released your newest album warning(s): angst w/ no comfort,

The news hit you like a wave, but your reaction was more of disbelief than anger. You felt the rush of emotions, but nothing felt concrete enough to grasp. Scoffing was an instinctual defense, but inside, you could feel the hurt begin to swell. The room felt tighter with each passing second, and you noticed your stylists exchanging uneasy glances, their eyes darting from you to each other. They were used to your sensitivity—your emotional shifts, your vulnerability—but they never knew how to manage it when it was raw.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. There was no point in crying here, you're supposed to go on stage here shortly.

" we're changing things up a bit. We're dropping fast times and adding please," You said, standing up from your chair.

Your manager looked at you in shocked, " but the dance crew - "

" we'll improvise, so what," Your voice was steady, but your mind was racing. The thought of performing in front of the audience—especially with everything weighing on you—felt almost suffocating. But you weren’t about to let it show. Your fans, many of them followers from your ex-boyfriend’s influence, were expecting the usual performance, but today you weren’t about to give them the usual.

Your manager hesitated, clearly unsure, but the finality in your voice was undeniable. You could see the wheels turning in their head, weighing the pros and cons. But you were already moving forward, walking over to your stylist and motioning to get the changes made quickly. The crew scrambled to adjust, knowing better than to push back now.

As the team worked to shift things around, you tried to collect yourself. You were angry—angry that you were here, angry that you were expected to hide it, and angry at him for making you feel so small. But the stage? The stage was yours. You could handle anything there.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, seeing a glimpse of someone who would take this betrayal, turn it into something raw and real, and give them a show they wouldn’t forget.

The energy in the air was electric as you stood under the spotlight, your heart still racing from the performance. You could feel the heat from the stage lights and the pulse of the crowd’s excitement, but for a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze. Their energy was contagious, and it was a welcome distraction from the chaos swirling in your mind.

A giggle escaped your lips, and the sound felt like the first real moment of joy in what had been a difficult day. "So, how is everyone?" you asked, your voice light and playful. The crowd roared in response, their cheers and screams vibrating through the floor beneath your feet.

You glanced around, letting the moment stretch just a bit longer. "My, such a loud crowd," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips. You could feel the love and support radiating from them, and for a moment, it made you forget everything else.

The crowd fell into an anticipatory hush, their eyes on you, hanging on your every word. You could feel their curiosity building, the tension electrifying the air. This was your moment to reclaim control, to remind everyone, and maybe even yourself, that you were still the one in charge.

You paused, letting the suspense linger just a bit longer, enjoying the attention before delivering the punch. "So, I have a surprise for you guys tonight. Very last minute!" you said, your tone playful, yet laced with a hint of mystery.

The crowd erupted in cheers, excited whispers rippling through them as they eagerly tried to guess what was coming. You could feel the thrill of it, a spark of excitement that momentarily distracted you from the storm brewing inside.

Without missing a beat, you motioned to the crew, signaling them to get ready. "I know you all came for the usual, but tonight, we’re doing something a little different. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait."

A few staff members gave you questioning looks, but you ignored them. You were already moving, already shifting the plan and taking charge. The surprise you were about to reveal wasn’t just for them—it was for you, too. A new version of yourself, one who was taking back the power and refusing to let anyone—especially him—define you.

The crowd’s confusion was palpable as the first few notes of the new song filled the arena. They hadn’t expected this, and it was clear from their puzzled expressions that they were trying to process what was happening. But you could feel the shift, the collective curiosity rising in the air.

With a small, knowing smile, you leaned into the mic, voice smooth and confident. "This is my new upcoming song, Please, releasing in a few months, but I think you guys deserve a treat."

The audience’s murmur of surprise quickly turned into cheers, the promise of something fresh and exclusive lighting up their faces. You could hear a few excited whispers in the crowd, some fans already buzzing with anticipation at the idea of hearing something new before anyone else.

Seonghwa’s fingers drummed anxiously on the surface of his desk, his mind racing through the consequences of his actions. His heart felt heavy, and the silence in his dorm room seemed to echo every doubt that had crept into his mind. He knew he should have been more careful, but now it felt like the damage was already done.

He muttered to himself, a mixture of frustration and regret in his voice. "Fuck, did I really mess up..."

The guilt gnawed at him, and he paced in a tight circle, rubbing the back of his neck. The wait was unbearable. His manager had gone off to handle the fallout, but Seonghwa wasn’t sure what kind of news would come back—he only knew that whatever it was, it wouldn't be good.

Seonghwa's head snapped up, his eyes meeting Hongjoong's, a mix of guilt and anger flashing in them. The words stung more than he’d expected, but deep down, he knew Hongjoong was right. He had been caught up in something he shouldn't have been, and now he was facing the consequences.

"She's on tour... how can I do that to her?" Seonghwa muttered, his voice almost a whisper, like he was trying to convince himself that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Hongjoong’s expression didn’t soften. He crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. "And cheating on her was the best idea?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "You think that’s any better?"

Seonghwa’s chest tightened as the weight of Hongjoong's words hit him like a brick. He had no defense, no excuse. He had let his emotions cloud his judgment, and now he had hurt someone he cared about deeply. "I didn’t mean for it to happen," Seonghwa muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I messed up. I’m... I’m trying to fix it."

The door creaked open, and his manager stepped inside, their face grim. Seonghwa’s stomach twisted as he met their gaze, knowing that whatever was about to be said would change everything.

[ikkyfics]

Wasn't it obvious?

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: For a moment, Dave stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused. “Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?” You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question. “I... I didn’t know.” “But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious."

Warnings: mention of sex (not explicit), insecurity, est. relationship, hurt comfort, a little angst

A/N: anon, I hope you can like it <333!!

Masterlist

The room was still bathed in the dim light of morning, with the curtains barely drawn, letting streaks of sunlight spill across the space. You woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of his body still so close. Dave’s breathing was soft and steady, the rhythm of someone deeply asleep. A heavy arm lay draped over your waist, a silent reminder that he had no intention of letting you slip away anytime soon.

Your eyes wandered around the messy room, clothes scattered on the floor—your shirt precariously hanging off the edge of a chair, his pants on the rug, half-hidden under the bed. You knew you needed to leave. There were commitments, schedules, things waiting for you out there. But the weight of that moment, of his warmth, seemed to beg you to stay.

“You awake?” Dave’s husky voice broke through your thoughts. He didn’t open his eyes right away, but the grip around your waist tightened slightly. When he finally looked at you, his blue eyes were clouded with sleep, dark curls falling a little over his forehead. “Stay a little longer. It’s still early…”

“I have to go,” you murmured, even as his fingers lazily traced the curve of your arm. His touch was so light, as if he wanted to draw out every second.

“No, you don’t.” He smiled in that way that always made your resolve waver—that small, crooked smile, almost boyish, but filled with something he probably didn’t even realize he carried. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked straight at you, his eyes shining even in the faint light. “Who’s gonna care if you skip, huh?”

You laughed softly, knowing he was teasing, though there was a hint of truth in his words. Dave had this way of making you feel like the rest of the world didn’t matter, like that moment—just the two of you, tangled in messy sheets—was the only thing that did.

“You’re not going to make me stay,” you warned, but your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d intended. He seemed to catch on, because his smile grew wider.

“What if I hold you down right here?” He stretched his arms dramatically, trying to pull you closer, but you slipped out, laughing again.

“Stop it, Dave,” you said, trying to get up, though you could feel the weight of his gaze following you. You grabbed your shirt first, pulling it off the chair, and started putting it on with your back to him, all too aware of his eyes on you. When you turned around, he was still there, propped up on his hand, his hair messy, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made warmth creep up your face.

“You’re really gonna leave me here all alone?” His tone was playful, almost pouty, but there was something else beneath it—something that was always there in the spaces between words, something you never quite dared to name.

“I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though something inside you tightened. You knew he wasn’t holding you there, that you were free to leave. But you also knew there were unspoken things between you, things that made moments like this harder than they should be.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the pillow, though his eyes never left you. “Fine. But only because I know you’ll come back.”

You paused for a second, still holding onto the waistband of the pants you’d just pulled on. His gaze seemed to carry more weight than his words. But, as always, you let it pass.

“Maybe,” you said, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. And before he could respond, you grabbed your things and started moving toward the door, feeling his eyes on you until the very last second.

“Hey,” he called out, just as your hand touched the doorknob. You turned to look at him one last time. He looked so at ease there, so comfortable, with his messy curls and that smile that always made your heart race. “You look amazing in the morning, you know that?”

“See you later, Dave,” you said, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat, and left before he could trap you with another comment.

The café was just busy enough that the hum of conversations and the clinking of cups against saucers created a constant noise, but not so much that it stopped you from relaxing for a few minutes. You sat near the window, the warm coffee cup in your hands, trying to organize your thoughts. There was so much to do, so many things you were trying to ignore—and one of them seemed to have a face framed by dark curls and blue eyes that took up far more space in your mind than you cared to admit.

"Hey, is that really you?"

The familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and when you looked up, it took a second to recognize the person standing in front of you.

"Katie?" The surprise was clear in your voice, but a smile quickly appeared on your lips. It was her, without a doubt—the same Katie Deauxma from high school, though now her features seemed more mature. Her hair was a bit shorter, but the easy smile she always had was exactly the same.

"Yeah!" Katie laughed, looking just as surprised to see you there. "Wow, it's been ages! How are you?"

"I'm good. Wow, it really has been a long time," you said, standing for a quick, slightly awkward hug. She seemed as comfortable as ever, and the conversation flowed naturally as the two of you sat down together.

Katie asked about college, what you were studying, and shared a bit about her own courses and what she'd been up to since high school. It was pleasant, even nostalgic, talking to someone who knew you from before.

Until she asked, casually, "So, are you dating anyone? Or just enjoying the single life?"

You hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity. The words formed in your mind before you could fully think through their weight, slipping out before you could stop them.

"Actually… I am dating someone."

It was a lie. Or wasn't it? You didn’t know anymore. But the sound of the word in your mouth brought an instant pang of guilt, something that tightened in your chest as Katie’s smile widened.

“Oh, really? That’s great! Who’s the lucky one?”

“Dave Lizewski,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. Katie blinked, surprised, before letting out a short laugh.

“Dave? Wow! I haven’t talked to him in ages. We dated, remember? Back in high school.”

You nodded, feeling your stomach sink. Of course you remembered. Everyone remembered. Dave and Katie had been the cute couple in school, the kind everyone thought was improbable, even cliché—the nerd with the popular girl.

“He was so sweet. A little awkward, but always so thoughtful,” Katie continued, oblivious to the storm of emotions building inside you. “You two must make a great couple, I’m sure.”

You smiled, or tried to, and murmured something vague in response. But all you could think was that she was right. Dave was sweet. He was thoughtful, even with his goofy comments and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. He held your hand in public. He made a point to walk you home when he could.

But he had never called you his girlfriend.

And now you were sitting here, listening to Katie talk about what he was like when they dated, and something inside you was breaking into pieces you didn’t even know existed. You remembered them together—how she’d hold onto his arm in the school hallways, how happy he looked next to her. And suddenly, you couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at you the same way he looked at her.

You finished your coffee as quickly as you could, saying goodbye to Katie with a smile that felt increasingly forced. She hugged you again before leaving, promising that you should meet up again sometime.

When you were alone again, the noise of the café felt louder, like it was echoing inside you. The empty cup in front of you felt like a weight holding you there, while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

Girlfriend.

You’d said it. And now the word felt like it was haunting you, something far too big to carry. You never wanted to be this person, the one who lied or twisted things to fit into something that might not even be real.

But you couldn’t help it.

Because deep down, you wanted it to be true.

Thursday nights always held a special weight. It was an unspoken tradition between the two of you. No matter what happened during the week—piles of work, tough exams, or tight deadlines—Thursdays were reserved for you two. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on something else, the memory of your encounter with Katie had been pounding in your head ever since you left the café.

You had tried to shake it off with a stack of required reading, loud music through your headphones, and even a spontaneous apartment cleaning spree, but nothing worked. Katie's voice kept echoing, her smile, the way she talked about Dave. The way she referred to him as someone who used to be hers, as if there was still a part of him trapped in the past that might never belong to you.

And then there was you. And the lie. Or was it the truth? You didn’t even know anymore. The weight of the words that had slipped out before you could stop them—they felt heavier now, like stones sinking in your stomach. You said it because you wanted to believe it was real. But what about him? What would he think if he knew?

The sound of the doorbell yanked you from your thoughts. It was him.

You took a deep breath, trying to quiet the chaos inside, and opened the door. Dave stood there, as he always did, with his messy curls and a small smile that grew wider just for you. He held a plastic bag with a pack of fries and two sodas—the kind of thing he always brought because he knew you loved it.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping inside. His touch was warm, familiar. But tonight, it felt harder to relax around him, like the storm in your head was keeping you from grounding yourself in the moment.

“Hey,” you replied, closing the door as he made his way to the kitchen, putting the sodas in the fridge without even asking. He’d been doing this for so long that it was second nature.

“You okay?” Dave asked, opening the bag of fries and tossing one into his mouth. He looked at you with those blue eyes, his forehead creasing slightly with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered quickly—maybe too quickly. He noticed. Of course, he did. Dave had always had this uncanny ability to sense when something was off, even when you tried to hide it.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of...” He gestured vaguely with his hand.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, a bit more firmly. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, but the way he kept watching you while munching on a fry made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Wanna watch a movie or something? I brought that one you said you wanted to see...”

“I’m not sure I feel like watching a movie tonight,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral as you grabbed a glass of water for yourself. It was a small response, almost insignificant, but the tension was already starting to build.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?” He leaned against the kitchen counter, his gaze calm and his relaxed posture a stark contrast to the knot tightening inside you.

“I don’t know, Dave!” The words came out sharper than you intended, and the tone in your voice made his eyebrows lift.

“Okay, easy,” he said slowly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was just asking. No need to bite my head off.”

You sighed, guilt starting to creep in. But instead of stopping, the words began spilling out before you could catch them. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just... I don’t know. I’m tired. I had a rough day, and then you show up with your fries like everything is so simple, like... like I just need a movie, and everything will be fine.”

He blinked, visibly confused, but his tone remained calm. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t know you were feeling so... like this.”

“Like this?” You crossed your arms, the tension in your stance growing. “What’s that supposed to mean, Dave?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, but now there was something in his tone that suggested he was trying to keep his patience in check.

“Actually, I don’t,” you shot back, your voice rising. But as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes, and the lump in your throat that had been forming all day was now nearly unbearable.

Dave noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He might not have been great with words, but he never failed to pick up on when something was wrong with you. His expression shifted in an instant, confusion giving way to a concern so genuine it made you feel even more vulnerable.

“Hey, hey,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “What’s going on? Are you crying?”

“I’m not,” you lied, turning your face away, but he didn’t buy it.

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, and before you could step back, Dave was already close enough to gently take your hands in his. “Look at me.”

You hesitated but finally lifted your gaze. His blue eyes met yours, filled with so much concern it was almost impossible to hold the contact.

“Talk to me,” he said. It wasn’t a command; it was an invitation. “Please.”

The weight in your chest felt like it was about to explode, and the words came out before you could stop them.

“I ran into Katie.”

Dave blinked, visibly surprised. “Katie?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, trying to look away, but he stayed close, holding your hands with almost unbearable tenderness. “We bumped into each other by chance. Talked for a few minutes.”

He tilted his head, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, now a mix of curiosity and concern. “And?”

“She asked about you,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “And I... I told her I was your girlfriend.”

Dave went quiet for a moment. Not the heavy silence of judgment, but the kind of pause he always took when he was trying to fully understand something.

“Okay,” he began cautiously. “And... why does that seem to be hurting you?”

“Because I don’t know if it’s true!” you burst out, the confession hitting with a force that made you flinch. “I said I was your girlfriend, but I didn’t know if I was lying. We’ve never talked about this, never put a name on what we have. And now all I can think about is whether I said something that wasn’t real.”

For a moment, he stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused.

“Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?”

You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question.

“I... I didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice weak, barely a whisper.

“But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious. I mean, we see each other all the time, spend nights together, you steal my shirts...”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you cut him off, frustration mixed with nervousness. “People do that all the time without dating, Dave.”

“But I don’t do that with just anyone,” he countered, his blue eyes locking onto yours, as if he wanted to make this point crystal clear. “I do that with you because I want to be with you. Because I thought... well, I thought it was obvious.”

“But you never said it,” you argued, feeling the tears starting to return. “And I never said it either. And that’s what’s been driving me crazy. I didn’t know what we were.”

Dave sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked like he was processing everything all at once, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he stepped closer until he was near enough to hold your hands again.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Then let’s make it clear now.”

His tone was calm but firm, and when he spoke again, it felt like every word had been carefully chosen.

“I’m with you,” he said. “And I thought that was obvious, but if it wasn’t, I’m saying it now: I want to be with you. Just you. And if that means we’re dating, then yeah, I guess we’re dating.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

“But...” you began, the word almost lost in the lump in your throat. “What about Katie?”

He frowned, clearly caught off guard by the change in topic.

“What about Katie?”

“She was your first girlfriend,” you continued, your voice cracking slightly. “And I remember how you two were. Everyone thought you were perfect together. And now, seeing her again, I can’t stop thinking that...”

“That what?” He tilted his head, his blue eyes filled with concern.

“That I’ll never be good enough,” you confessed, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Dave was silent for a moment, but before you could say more, he shook his head with a soft, incredulous laugh.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of almost overwhelming tenderness.

You looked at him, confused.

“I broke up with Katie years ago,” he said, as though reminding you of something obvious. “And yeah, it was important to me. She was my first girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean anything now. She’s part of my past, that’s all. You’re my present. And my future, if I’m lucky.”

You tried to process his words, but the lump in your throat only seemed to grow.

“But what if I’m not enough?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“You already are enough,” he answered immediately, without hesitation. He stepped closer, so close that you were almost nose to nose. “More than enough. And you don’t need to compare yourself to Katie or anyone else. Because no one comes close to you, got it? No one.”

His eyes were so intense, so full of emotion, that you felt tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” he continued, his voice now softer. “Because you’re who I want. And nothing—absolutely nothing—is going to change that.”

You closed your eyes, trying to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. When you opened them again, Dave was already pulling you into a tight embrace, wrapping you in a tenderness that felt both overwhelming and comforting all at once.

Dave’s arms tightened around you as if he were trying to shield you from the outside world—or maybe from yourself. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and for a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, like a reassuring rhythm that seemed to absorb all the anxiety that had consumed you until then.

“You’re more than enough,” he repeated, his voice low and steady, as if it were something he needed you to believe more than anything else. And you wanted to believe it.

Minutes passed like that, in a cocoon of quiet comfort, with him holding you as if the whole world had disappeared. And you stayed there, letting yourself surrender to that sense of relief, of not needing to worry about anything else. Just the present. Just him.

Finally, you lifted your head, your face warm and your eyes still a little teary but calmer. You looked at him, and he looked back at you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being seen in a way no one else ever could.

“Do you really think I’m enough for you?” you asked, your voice softer now but still tinged with uncertainty. You knew he’d answered, but you needed to hear it again, to be sure.

Dave smiled, a smile that made his eyes shine with a mix of affection and certainty. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lightly grazing your skin, and answered with a tenderness that warmed your chest.

“I don’t just think,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I know. And if you let me, I’ll show you that every single day. Because to me, you’re everything. And nothing, no one, can change that.”

His words echoed softly but with a force that was impossible to ignore. And in that moment, with your heart racing and your breath unsteady, you finally understood what he was trying to tell you. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past or the insecurities you carried. What mattered was what he was offering you now. It was real. And you wanted to believe it. Wanted to allow yourself.

You gave a small smile, the tears still falling but now accompanied by a growing sense of peace that began to fill the spaces left by doubt. “I don’t want to compare myself to anyone,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But sometimes it’s hard.”

Dave gave a small laugh, gently cupping your cheeks. “I get it,” he said. “But never forget: you’re who I chose. And you don’t need to be like anyone else. You’re unique to me, and that’s all I need.”

He pulled you closer again, and this time, instead of insecurity, the embrace was filled with something softer yet stronger—a sense that you’d found your place, a safe place full of care.

Time passed slowly, and you felt calmer, as if his words had cleared the chaos in your mind. When you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw doubt or fear—just certainty. And you felt it too. The certainty that, with him by your side, everything would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered, not thinking too much, but with a truth that burned through your skin and filled your chest with something so profound that words couldn’t fully translate it.

Dave smiled, that genuine, happy smile of his. “I love you too,” he replied, before leaning in for a gentle kiss that made the world seem to pause for a moment. A kiss that needed no explanations. A kiss that said everything about who you were—and everything you were still about to become.

[wetpussyju1ce]

retired!John Price and the ghost girl living in his sea side cottage. 

he didn't even know the house was haunted when he bought the place. it's not like the owner of the cottage would've told him. and in this time and age, not a lot of people really believed in ghosts, heck he didn't believe in them either. 

well, maybe that's a bit of a lie. he doesn't believe in actual ghosts appearing and knocking shit over just to mess with the living. but he's been long enough in the military to know that every man and woman have their own ghosts they carry around. heck, even some bases are worse than others, sometimes when the wind blows hard and runs in the corridors, it sounds like souls out of hell, coming back to haunt the ones still alive, telling them their time was counted for. 

But this type of ghost, the type that's absolutely shit at being a ghost, John thought it was a house squatter, a homeless person using the cottage because it was empty for a very long time, that's what the owner told him. When he first saw her, she dashed past the door, fast enough that he couldn't exactly see who it was but slow enough that he could tell it was a person. 

then she'd follow him around, she wouldn't make any noise of course, but he could sense her presence and see her in the corner of his eye. He thought maybe it was his old age getting to him. because no matter how hard he looked there was no evidence of human presence, other than himself, of course. he catches himself staring long and hard at his cigar, getting suspicious of his own tobacco, if he'd somehow mixed some cannabis in it and forgot. But no, she was there, and very real. 

The longer he stayed in the house, cleaning, dusting, moving things and unpacking, the more he could see of her, just glimpses here and there. And for a reason completely unknown to him, he wasn't scared. why would he? if she wanted to hurt him she would've done it by now? plus, she doesn't look as scary as someone would think. John knows that she's barefoot, wears a light pink dress and her flesh looks of normal, if faint, human colour. It doesn't look rotted or grey. 

John hasn't told anyone about his little ghost roommate, and probably won't because they'll definitely drag him to a retirement home if he does. So he keeps his mouth shut and tries to catch this little ghost, or at least get a look at her face, speak to her, ask her what is she doing in his house. 

That day came sooner than he thought, where she was creeping behind him, it was comical how John immediately knew what she was doing, saw her in the reflection of his glass of water. then walked out of the kitchen, slowly at first, when he turned the corner he booked it for the other kitchen door, getting in and there he saw her, slowly creeping to the door he just exited out of. He wanted to laugh at how bad she was at being stealthy but held it in, then he creeped behind her, then pounced, wrapping his arms around her. 

She shouted and he gasped, hearing her voice for the first time, she was cold, and soft. when it finally registered in her head that the human man was touching her, she froze, and when she did, John couldn't feel anything anymore. She was still there, looking down at his arms that were now floating inside her. John moved his hands around, eyes wide and she shuddered, stepping away with her shoulders hunched. 

John felt bad for scaring her like that so he cleared his throat, “Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,”

She didn't move for a minute, her back to him, and then slowly looked over her shoulder, blinking her wet eyes at him. She was scared and his heart twisted in his chest at the youth etched in her skin, at her hunched shoulders and trembling lower lip. 

“I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to scare you,” John quickly apologised again, this time trying to whisper, his hands in the air, trying his best not to scare her away. 

Her body slowly turned around, levitating and floating, then he could finally see all of her, including the marks wrapped around her neck in the shape of fingertips as she stared at him, shaking. John never thought he was capable of scaring a ghost, if anything he should be the one terrified out of his wits. This wasn't normal.

“I'm John, John Price,” John introduced himself, “I bought the house a month ago, as a retirement present for myself…” Price explained as if she would care why he bought the house. 

“You can see me?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper and Price nodded, eyes wide. 

“And you can touch me?” She asked again, fingers grabbing hold of her dress, pulling at the fabric and toying with it.

John nodded again and she looked down, confusion written all across her face. 

“Are you a ghost too?” She asked, hopeful and Price’s small smile fell, did she just ask him if he was a flipping ghost? 

“Am I dead?” He repeated and she nodded once with a grimace.

“Well, I hope not,” He awkwardly laughed, running his fingers through his beard, thinking hard if he could've lost his life in the battlefield, a bullet to the head or something. 

“Are you sure?” She asked and he frowned, was he sure? 

“What's something ghosts can't do and living people can?” John asked and she tilted her head to the side, thinking. 

“Well, I can't leave the house…” She shrugged and he nodded, that's it, all he has to do is leave the house and he'll be sure he's actually not dead.

John walked to the door, turning the key and looked over his shoulder, “I'm doing it!” Then he put one foot outside, then another, and nothing happened, “See! I'm not a ghost,”

She frowned in confusion, “If you're not a ghost, then why can you see and touch me?”

John walked back in the house and locked the door behind him, “I don't know, you're the first ghost I've ever talked to, I'll tell you that,”

“Really?” 

“Yes,” John smiled a little, “Are there others in here or is it just you?”

“Just me,”

“Alright, will you give me a hard time?”

“No!”

“Good, then why don't you make yourself useful and help me pick a new wallpaper for the hallways,”

[nexlynn]

HIIII!! would you maybe mind writing a se-mi x reader fanfic!?!?! like literally just pure fluff, cuddling and makeouts and whatever you like, just anything fluff!! and maybe if you don't mind, you could write about se-mi being a tease and shes like super duper confident and knows how to fluster the reader and stuff, SORRY IF THIS IS ODD, no pressure/no rush!! 💗💗

Se-mi x f!reader

Fluff

Basically se-mi have been working for so long and reader needs her attention.

"Are you done soon"

You sigh, you've been waiting way to long for Se-mi to finish her work, and you just wanted to cling into her arms, cuddle her until tomorrow, even staying there forevet if you could. But sadly she didn't seems to have finished yet.

"Ten more minutes."

You whine at her words, she said that already 30 minutes ago, and she's still going on.

"But i want you now please!"

She looks up at you, you knew you had her attention, oh how much she loves when you beg her to touch you, to pamper you.

Se-mi grabbed your wrist, pulling you down on her lap, facing her.

"Oh yeah ? Does my girl wants me now ?"

Your knees straddle her thighs, and her hands rest firmly on your hips, grounding you.

"My needy girl," she mumbles in your ear, her fingers tracing slow circles along your sides. "You couldn’t wait just a little longer, could you? You’re absolutely desperate for my attention, aren’t you?"

"Maybe" you reply, biting your lip, she made you nervous, her words going straight to your stomach, giving you that feeling that you loved.

She chuckles as her hand sneaks up your back to pull you closer. "You’re so cute when you’re flustered" she says, her nose brushing yours, your lips almost touching hers.

"Stop teasing me" you manage, but your voice betrays you, shaky and breathless.

"Why would I do that" she whispers, moving her face, her lips brushing now against your ear. "when you look so pretty like this?"

And before you can protest further, she presses her lips to yours, softly bringing you both into a passionate kiss, kiss you waited for an hour already.

She didn't seems to want to pull away, it felt too good, for her but for you too, feeling her lips on yours, her hands on your hips, keeping you from moving too much.

When she finally pulls back, her grin is absolutely wicked. "Is that what you wanted?"

You nod quickly, breathless and dazed from the kiss.

"Good" she says, leaning back in to pepper kisses along your jawline. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

Her work, for now, is completely forgotten, and you can’t help but feel victorious as she holds you tighter. Finally, finally, you’ve got her all to yourself.

"I love you" Those three words, you love to hear them, you felt your heartbeat fastening, your face flushing, you want to answer but can't, feeling her lips coming closer to yours again and in a second, you felt her lips crashing on yours again.

And suddenly you couldn't do anything, you melted in her arms, enjoying the feeling. Her hand slides to your neck, forcing you to continue the kiss, not that you would try to pull away anyway.

After a bit, she had to pull back, her eyes opening to see the most beautiful sight she probably ever saw, her girlfriend, breathless from the kiss.

"You love that uh? You love the control you got over me"

She heard you and let out a laugh, her fingers gripping on your nape, not hurting you though.

"Damn yes i do, i love it babe."

An : I hope you'll like it i tried to follow the request i have no idea if it's good or not.. keep in mind that english isn't my first language so there might be some faults I still take request I'll try to post one or two times a day!

[airybcby]

also for the new event ~ 🍊 & 🍰 with kunigami please!

hi! of course!

a kunigami rensuke orange cake :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° fall out of line

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — kunigami rensuke x gn! reader, ex! kunigami, ex! reader, mutual pining, established relationship (past) , kunigami wanting to focus on soccer, cuddling, second chance romance

♡ synopsis — all kunigami rensuke had wanted was to go pro in soccer, but at the cost of losing you? maybe this secind chance was everything he'd been waiting for.

You hadn’t seen Kunigami Rensuke in over a year. Not since the day he ended things.

“I need to focus on soccer,” he had said, standing in your doorway, his tone heavy with determination and regret. “I can’t give you the time or attention you deserve.”

You’d nodded, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral. Kunigami’s dream of going pro had always been a driving force in his life, something you’d admired about him. You knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was doing this for you—but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

The first few months after the breakup were a blur of trying to fill the space he’d left behind. The late-night texts, the movie marathons, the quiet comfort of his presence—they were all gone. And now, over a year later, you were standing in a shared apartment with him again, thanks to the school’s brilliant marriage simulation program.

Of course, out of all the people in your class, it had to be him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, as if carrying the weight of unspoken things.

“Hi,” you replied, gripping the strap of your bag tightly.

He shifted his weight awkwardly, his golden eyes darting to meet yours for a brief second before flicking away. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you said, your throat dry. “It has.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both of you acutely aware of the space between you.

Living together again was… surreal.

Kunigami was still the same in so many ways, and yet there was a new edge to him. He was quieter, more reserved, as if he were keeping something locked away.

He took on the role of caretaker almost immediately, cooking meals and cleaning without a word. When you offered to help, he’d shake his head and say, “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

It was the same thoughtfulness you remembered, but now it felt tinged with guilt, like he was trying to make up for something.

The first week passed with polite conversations and carefully maintained boundaries. But as the days turned into weeks, the awkwardness began to thaw—just a little.

One evening, after dinner, you suggested watching a movie.

He hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” you said, giving him a small smile. “It’s not like there’s much else to do.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. But you pick.”

Settling onto the couch felt strangely familiar, like slipping into an old routine. He sat at one end, keeping a respectful distance, but as the movie played, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing.

“That was… not bad,” he admitted as the credits rolled, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“See?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Told you it’d be fun.”

He chuckled softly, the sound stirring something in your chest. For the first time in a long time, it felt like you were seeing glimpses of the Kunigami you used to know.

The next week, you convinced him to watch another movie.

Halfway through, you both fell asleep on the couch.

When you woke up, it was to the unfamiliar sensation of warmth against your side. Blinking groggily, you realized you were leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. His arm was draped loosely around you, his steady breathing brushing against your hair.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scene.

Kunigami stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he registered the situation, he tensed immediately, pulling away as if burned.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his face flushing red. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing it off even as your cheeks burned. “Really.”

But the tension lingered, heavy and unspoken.

The shared moments began to pile up, each one pulling you back toward the memories of what you used to have.

One night, while you were working on an assignment at the kitchen table, you caught him watching you out of the corner of your eye.

“What?” you asked, looking up.

He blinked, as if snapped out of a trance. “Nothing,” he said, turning back to the dishes.

But the softness in his expression lingered, making your chest ache.

You thought about all the nights you used to spend like this—curled up together on the couch, laughing over something silly, sharing quiet conversations about your dreams and fears. It felt impossible to ignore how much you’d missed it.

As the program neared its end, the apartment felt heavier with each passing day.

The night before you were set to leave, you suggested watching one last movie. He agreed, though his expression was hard to read.

This time, you both stayed awake.

When the credits rolled, neither of you moved to turn off the TV.

“I’m going to miss this,” you said quietly, not looking at him.

Kunigami stiffened. “Yeah.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the way his jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists on his lap.

“Hey,” you said softly. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained. “I thought… ending things would be better for you. That I was doing the right thing.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening.

“But now, being here with you…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was wrong.”

Your heart raced, hope and fear warring within you.

“Kunigami,” you said, your voice trembling. “If you think there’s a chance for us—”

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” he interrupted, his golden eyes meeting yours. “I can’t promise I’ll get it right this time.”

“You don’t have to promise anything,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. “I just want to try.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, his hand tightened around yours.

“You’re really stubborn, you know that?” he said, a faint smile breaking through.

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, your voice shaky with relief.

And as he pulled you into a tentative embrace, you felt a spark of hope—like maybe, just maybe, you could build something new together.

ughh kunigami my love

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[alaia777]

movies i’d pair with the blue lock guys

how to lose a guy in 10 days - oliver

i just think how to lose a guy in 10 days fits oliver so much. i can imagine him making a bet with his friends about how he can get any woman he wants to fall in love with him. he meets you, and coincidentally, you’ve made the same bet with your friends. the difference? you need to drive him away in 10 days.

he’s kind and charming, planning dates he knows you’ll love. you, on the other hand, show up to his practice with a cute lunchbox covered in cartoon characters and a smoothie in a hello kitty bottle. as if that isn’t enough, you yell, “go for it, sugar booger!” every time he needs to concentrate, throwing him off completely and causing him to make mistake after mistake.

you take things further, showing up while he’s out with his friends, carrying an album of “your future kids together,” complete with photoshopped pictures of your faces. when he gets home from that hangout, he finds his house decorated with flowers, pictures of you, and stuffed animals, along with a note on the table: “take care of them as if they were our babies. i’m going to check on them! — your honey bunny :)”

he’s already at his wit’s end with your antics. but then comes the moment. you know the one—when ben saw andie in that yellow dress and placed his hand on his heart? that’s him when he sees you wearing that exact dress, standing as his plus-one at the gala he was invited to.

you find out about his bet first, and you’re furious—even though you were doing the same thing. when he finds out about yours, he’s just as angry. but after the heat of the argument dies down, neither of you can deny the truth: somewhere along the way, it stopped being about winning and became about each other.

and maybe, just maybe, neither of you want the game to end.

13 going on 30 - rin

i always imagined that the person rin would end up with would be someone he knew as a kid. with this one, there’s a little twist—besides the whole waking up in the body of a 30-year-old. rin is the one who finds himself successful, with the football career he always wanted, finally stepping out of his brother’s shadow. he had everything he ever worked for, so why did it still feel like something was missing?

one night, while scrolling on his phone, he came across a post from a mutual friend. they mentioned that you were in the same city as him, and without thinking, he tracked you down, looking for some kind of closure.

when he saw you again, he couldn’t believe his eyes—how much you’d changed, how much you’d grown, and yet, how you were still just as beautiful as he remembered. you, on the other hand, didn’t recognize him at first. it had been years since you’d last seen each other, and while you weren’t holding a grudge against him for leaving, you hadn’t forgotten that he chose his dream over you. and the years that followed? he never checked in, never reached out—not even once. so when he showed up, you weren’t exactly keen on welcoming him back into your life.

still, something in his eyes made you pause. despite the hurt, you decided to hear him out, agreeing to spend the afternoon catching up. the two of you wandered the city, sharing recommendations and reliving bits of the past. you even ended up at a sports bar, where they were replaying a match rin had played in just a week ago.

“you’re a star now. why are you hanging out with someone like me after all these years?” you teased, a light smile on your face. but the words hit rin differently, pulling him deeper into thoughts he wasn’t ready to face.

by the end of the day, he finally found out why you were in the city—the reason you were here in the first place. your engagement.

the word hung in the air, cutting through the quiet between you. you said it casually, like it wasn’t earth-shattering, like it didn’t crack something deep inside him. you smiled as you mentioned your fiancé, your plans for the future, and rin felt something cold settle into his chest.

he didn’t know why it hurt this much. after all, he was the one who left. he was the one who chose football, who walked away from everything that could’ve been. but standing there, looking at you and the happiness in your eyes, it hit him—he hadn’t just left you behind. he’d left behind a part of himself.

and now it was too late.

the proposal - sae

honestly, while writing rin’s part, i couldn’t help but feel how well it would fit sae too. but i had another idea in mind, something a little more fun, and somehow, the theme of the proposal came into play. imagine this: you’re the intern to his manager, always being looked down on by him, ridiculed for your “stupid” wardrobe, and treated like you’re invisible.

things take a wild turn when, through a series of unfortunate events, sae almost finds himself getting deported back to japan. the reason? his visa wasn’t sorted out in time, and his team just couldn’t get everything in order. in a desperate attempt to solve the issue, his manager hatches a plan—you two are engaged and about to be married.

you hated the idea. absolutely disgusted by it. and sae? well, he couldn’t care less, as long as it got him out of the mess. before long, he found himself sitting at your family’s table in the middle of nowhere, in a tiny village with almost no phone signal. the plan was simple—tell your family the engagement is real and keep up the charade for a while.

before that though, there was the immigration officer incident. sae, in his usual overconfident way, tried bribing the officer to smooth things over, but instead almost landed himself in jail. somehow, that’s how he ended up stuck at your family’s house, with no way out of this ridiculous engagement ruse.

things started to go awry right away. sleeping on the floor, waking up at the crack of dawn because of him, and having to endure his morning yoga routine like it was some kind of ritual. you really couldn’t imagine how anyone could fall for someone like him.

but your family? they were determined to make the best of the situation. they dragged him to the bar, took him fishing, and tried to include him in everything else. sae grumbled through it all, but he didn’t hold back on his frustration. he even ended up reluctantly playing football with them, but everything else? no chance. he hated it. the awkward family dinners, the endless chatter, the ridiculous games—he was done with it all.

and then there was your ex-boyfriend. perfect in every way, smiling at things like tree branches, wearing ridiculous clothes, and seemingly so happy in ways sae could never understand. he watched you together, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t explain.

the whole situation was supposed to be temporary. sae just had to play along, pretend to be the future husband, and somehow make it through without drawing attention to how forced everything was. but somewhere between the early mornings, the family outings, and the odd moments of silence, something started to change.

by the time everything was sorted and sae was on his way back, you weren’t sure what to make of it all.

the door closed behind him, but somehow, you knew things weren’t as simple as they seemed. something had shifted, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the act or something more.

ೃ༄ i wanted to leave the endings open, to give room for interpretation. what do you guys think? :)

ೃ༄ i’m going to do a part 2 with different characters, but this time the movies won’t be rom-coms !

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Bar Fight

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing:  Jenson Button x Teammate!Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Did the race go well? No, not certainly. Was she still going to the club after it? Yes, very much. Not because she liked clubbing, that was not really her vibe, but having Jenson as a teammate made her do many reckless things, as that suave smile always heard a ‘yes’ as an answer.

The music pulsed around her, a heavy bassline vibrating through the crowded VIP section of the club. Lights flashed in rapid succession, casting alternating shadows and bright colors across the space. She leaned against the bar, drink in hand, standing next to the friend she had somehow roped into this. Despite the energy of the room, she wasn’t quite in the mood, her earlier frustration from the race still lingering beneath the surface.

Jenson appeared out of nowhere, his easy charm and that familiar grin cutting through the haze of the club. He was a natural here—relaxed, effortless, like the chaos of the dancefloor was just another race he’d mastered.

“C’mon,” he said, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. His voice was playful, teasing, yet with that undertone of genuine persuasion. “You look like you’re plotting your escape.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Not much of a club person, remember?”

“But here you are,” he countered, the glint in his eye daring her to argue. “If you’re going to come, at least try to have fun. Live a little.”

“I am living,” she shot back, taking a sip of her drink and gesturing toward the lively scene around them. “See? Living.”

Jenson rolled his eyes, stepping closer, his tone mockingly conspiratorial. “Standing still and people-watching doesn’t count as living, you know.”

Her friend stifled a laugh, clearly entertained by the exchange, while Jenson extended a hand toward her, that confident grin widening. “One dance. Just one. You’re not leaving until you’ve at least pretended to enjoy yourself.”

She looked at his outstretched hand, then back at him, the challenge clear in his expression. He always knew how to get under her skin in just the right way. Still, she was not going to dance.

“Ugh, you’re so impossible sometimes,” he said teasingly, before ordering some shots with amusing ease.

The bartender lined up the shots in front of them, the liquid catching the strobing lights of the club. Jenson slid one toward her, his grin only widening when she gave him a skeptical look.

“C’mon,” he said, holding his own shot up. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto her face. “You say that now, but you’ll regret it when I’m hungover during the flight.”

Jenson chuckled, leaning closer. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, maybe this’ll finally get you to loosen up a bit.”

With a sigh and a playful shake of her head, she clinked her glass against his. “Fine. But just this one.”

“Sure, sure,” he replied with a wink, throwing the shot back effortlessly.

She followed suit, the sharp burn of the alcohol quickly replaced by a warm buzz that spread through her chest. Jenson didn’t waste a second, sliding another shot her way. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged innocently. “One more won’t hurt.”

And so it went. One shot turned into two, and then three, until the tension from the race started to melt away. The music felt a little less grating, the crowd a little less overwhelming. She found herself laughing at Jenson’s exaggerated stories, his easy charisma impossible to resist.

By the time the bartender cut them off from ordering more, she was grinning, her usual guarded demeanor slipping away. “Okay,” she admitted, leaning on the counter. “Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea.”

Jenson smirked triumphantly, leaning back against the bar. “See? Told you. You just needed to trust me.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the laughter that escaped her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that,” he teased, tapping his temple. “Now, are you ready to actually have some fun?”

“I thought this was fun,” she shot back, but her words were lighter now, her smile lingering.

He gave her a playful bad look. “Yeah, no,” he grinned, “we said one dance,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes, but agreed, as he was already grabbing her wrist to head her to the dance floor. “I borrow her for a sec,” he said to her friend.

Her friend just smirked knowingly and waved them off, clearly amused by the dynamic. Jenson’s grip on her wrist was firm but gentle as he led her through the crowd, weaving past people with an ease that only he could manage in such chaos.

Jenson twirled her around playfully, her laughter blending with the thumping bass of the music. For a moment, she was genuinely enjoying herself, her movements light and carefree as Jenson’s grin urged her on.

It was all fine until her elbow accidentally bumped into someone holding a drink, sending a splash of liquid onto the woman’s outfit.

“Are you kidding me?” the woman snapped, glaring down at the stain on her dress and her now-empty glass.

She froze, turning immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, her tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Of course you didn’t,” the woman interrupted, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she looked her up and down. “You’re too busy living in your own little bubble to notice anyone else.”

Her brows furrowed, irritation bubbling up, but she pushed it down. “Look, I’ll buy you another drink,” she offered, keeping her voice even.

The woman rolled her eyes dramatically. “Sure, like that’s going to fix anything,” she said sharply. Her gaze shifted, taking in Jenson standing beside her, his brow raised. Recognition flickered across her face, but instead of softening, her expression hardened further.

“Oh, great,” the woman sneered. “Figures. A couple of spoiled rich kids. Probably think the world revolves around you because you can drive fast cars and look pretty.”

Her jaw tightened, her earlier patience quickly wearing thin. “I said it was an accident,” she repeated, her tone firmer now.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should try paying attention,” the woman snapped. “Not everyone has the luxury of walking around like they own the place.”

Jenson stepped in before she could respond, his calm demeanor masking his growing annoyance. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his voice steady but laced with warning. “It was an accident, and she’s apologized.”

The woman let out a deadpan laugh, crossing her arms. “Of course you’d jump in. Can’t let your little teammate take any responsibility, can you?”

She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath to keep herself from snapping back. But the woman wasn’t done. “Bet you’re used to people cleaning up after your messes, aren’t you? Must be nice.”

That did it. Her composure cracked, and she stepped forward, her voice low and sharp. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked tightly. “I apologized, and I offered to make it right. But if you’re so determined to throw a tantrum, that’s your problem, not mine.”

The woman blinked, momentarily stunned by her tone. Before she could respond, Jenson slid an arm around her waist, gently pulling her back. “We’re done here,” he said firmly, steering her away.

Her heart was pounding as they moved through the crowd toward a quieter corner. She muttered under her breath, “Unbelievable. What a bitch.”

Jenson chuckled softly, his hand still resting at her waist, a grounding presence in the chaos. “She was just looking for a reason to pick a fight,” he said, glancing at her with a small smirk. “Guess she got more than she bargained for.”

“See, that would not have happened if I had stayed at the hotel,” she replied, though the slight curve of her lips betrayed her attempt at seriousness.

“True,” Jenson said, his grin widening. “But then you wouldn’t have had the chance to prove you’re not just fierce on the track. You’re a multitasker now—dodging unwarranted insults and somehow still managing to look stunning while doing it.”

She rolled her eyes, but the compliment worked; the tension melted away, replaced by something lighter. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you’re still here,” he teased, his tone warm and playful.

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she shook her head. “Maybe I should be the one questioning my life choices.”

Jenson leaned closer, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Nah, you’re doing just fine.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than she intended, the noise of the club fading into the background. Maybe coming out tonight hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language. I hope you liked it <333

[nelle-y]

A love story told through voicelines (V)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, fluff, shorter than the rest but that’s because it’s the end

Note: The story comes to a close! Thank you all so much for your support, I couldn’t have done it without you guys🫶🏻 If you have some ideas for other fics, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! (Part 1) (Part 4)

(You) About Diluc: Reflections

I’ve been thinking a lot about our fight. I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment or my own pride, but I said things I shouldn’t have. I called him stubborn, like his concern for me was some kind of flaw. He didn’t deserve that!

But when he called me reckless… it stung. I wanted to defend myself, to tell him I could handle it, but deep down, I knew he was right. I was reckless. I got hurt because I wasn’t careful, and instead of thanking him for worrying about me, I threw it back in his face.

I know he was just trying to protect me. That’s who he is—he takes on the weight of the world, and I made it even heavier with my words. I was so caught up in proving I didn’t need him hovering over me that I forgot how much he cares.

If I could go back, I’d say something different. Or maybe… I’d just listen. He didn’t deserve my anger. He deserved better.

(Diluc) About you: Reflections

My thoughts are quite repetitive when it comes to them, and maybe that’s how I drove them away—by caring more about their safety instead of them. I didn’t mean to hurt them, but seeing the scar on their arm reminds me of how much I could lose with one careless act. It was unbearable. And I let that fear dictate my words.

I know I can be overbearing. They’ve told me before that I control too much, and that I was… incredibly stubborn. Maybe they’re right. I wanted to protect them, but I didn’t stop to think about how they felt, what they needed from me in that moment. I acted as if I knew best, and in doing so, I ignored the trust we’ve built.

If I could go back, I’d handle it differently. I’d find the right words, words that wouldn’t hurt them. But now… all I can do is hope I haven’t broken something I can’t repair.

(You) About work

I’ve been trying to get back into the rhythm of working at Flora’s shop, but… it feels strange. The flowers are the same, the customers are the same, but something feels off. Maybe it’s me. Or maybe it’s the weight of everything that happened at the manor. I keep catching myself glancing toward the road leading to Angel’s Share, wondering if he’s okay, or if… he even cares.

*sigh* I need to focus. These asters aren’t going to arrange themselves.

(Diluc) About you: From afar

I passed by Flora’s shop today, and I saw them working as usual, but… quieter. Seeing them brought it all back—those quiet moments at the winery, their laughter, the way they always managed to surprise me. It’s unbearable, how much I miss them.

I almost stepped in, but quickly retreated. What would I even say? “I’m sorry”? Would that even matter by now? I’m sure they’re mad at me—maybe furious. And I’m sure… if I could change anything, I would change even the night I resigned from my position as Cavalry Captain if it meant bringing them back.

(You) About Diluc: Finally aware

I saw him today, you know. Well, not saw as in meet with—he just passed by. He didn’t come in; though strangely, I took a step in his direction. Out of habit, I suppose. I don’t think he noticed me… and why would he? After everything… Ugh! Why am I still dwelling on it? It’s not like I’m waiting for him or anything.

He’s just so… stuck. In my mind. I keep hoping to see him, even just for a moment. I miss eating with him, and trying to make him laugh. I miss the flowers that we took care of in the winery. I miss Adelinde.

I miss him…

And it’s infuriating, because I was the one who left. I needed space. I chose to leave the winery because it felt like too much. So why? Why does he linger like this? Why does every passing memory of him feel so sharp, so close, like it was yesterday?

I don’t know what this is. I thought leaving would bring me peace, but it’s only made me realize how deeply he’s rooted in me. I don’t know if I can ever let him go, even if I should.

…Could it be? Could this feeling—this aching pull—be love?

No… not could. It is. I love him.

(Diluc) About you: Finally aware

I need your thoughts on something. It’s… rather personal. For some time now, I’ve found myself increasingly distracted by them—always thinking about their safety, their well-being, even their smallest habits. Every little thing they do seems to pull at my attention. At first, I dismissed it as concern, but it’s different—stronger.

When I spoke to Adelinde about it, she said it sounded like love. Love. I… I don’t know what to make of that. But the more I think about it, the more everything starts to make sense—why I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt, why their smile lingers in my mind long after they’re gone.

I’ve even gone as far as to read about it in novels from Inazuma, though I’ll admit most of them are overly dramatic. Still… I couldn’t help but see myself in the pages. And now I can’t ignore it anymore.

This is love, isn’t it? I can’t believe it took me so long to realize. But… it’s oddly comforting, too, to finally understand why I feel this way. It all feels clearer now.

… I can’t let it end like this. I’ll speak to them, no matter what it takes.

(You and Diluc) Character story: Confessions

The day was drawing to a close, and the horizon burned with hues of amber and crimson as the sun dipped below the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

They didn’t know why they were running—only that their feet carried them forward. Wind gracing their hair, tugging at their clothes, and each breath coming quick and sharp with the patter of their feet. Were they running to the winery? They haven’t really thought about it. They were just chasing the closest thing that felt like home.

Inside the manor, Diluc sat at his desk, quill hovering over an unfinished report. He’d been staring at the same sentence for far too long, his mind elsewhere. His eyes kept straying to the lamp grass resting in a small vase—“For when nights are long, and the weight feels heavy—may these remind you that you’re not alone.”

In a breath, the quill laid flat on his desk, ink leaving a stain that may or may not come off. He didn’t care, though—he had other business to attend to. One that could change his life, for better or for worse.

As he ran, he thought of what to say. He’d gone over the words a dozen times in his head, but nothing ever seemed quite right. Every thought felt too small, too simple to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

The crimson sky had turned to blue, stars slowly forming like the constellations they once had. They both remembered that night—their head on his shoulder with only nature to accompany them, silent, and sanctified.

The moon hung low in the sky by the time they crossed paths on the dirt road. Neither had planned for this exact moment, yet it felt inevitable, as if fate itself had intervened.

They stopped a few paces apart, both breathless—Diluc from his hurried strides, and them from their sprint. For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the wind wrapped around them, heavy with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

“I…” they muttered, but their voice caught. After a breath or two, they spoke again: “I didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“I could say the same.” Diluc’s eyes softened as the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Though… perhaps I hoped for it.”

Their breath hitched at his words, and they looked away, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t expected this—hadn’t pictured him to be so calm, so open. The reality of seeing him here, in the flesh, was almost overwhelming.

“I don’t even know why I came,” they confessed, voice trembling. “I just… I missed—“ they hesitated admitting they missed him. It terrified them—how one word could strip away everything they’d worked so hard to hide, yet hold the power to give them everything they wanted.

They swallowed hard, the silence between them growing heavier, and tried again. “I missed… the winery. Adelinde. The flowers. The peace of it all.”

But the lie tasted bitter, and they knew he saw through it. Diluc waited, silent and patient, as though he knew the truth would come, in time.

“I missed you,” they finally whispered, their voice breaking. The confession escaped before they could stop it, leaving them vulnerable and exposed. Their heart raced, the fear of rejection and relief of honesty crashing into each other.

“I’m sorry…” they added, one reckless word after the other. “For being so careless, for not understanding that you were only trying to protect me—for everything.

“I thought I did the right thing, leaving the manor. I told myself I needed space. But since then, all I can think about was you. I couldn’t stop looking forward to our lunch dates, to the moments you’d pass by the flower shop, to even catching a glimpse of that slight smirk of yours.

“And it’s all so infuriating,” they continued, voice gaining strength, yet still trembling with frustration and longing. “Because I look at you with that unreadable expression of yours, and it’s like you don’t care. You’re always so calm, so distant, like nothing ever fazes you. It’s maddening!

“Even when we were together, it was the same. You always tried to shoulder everything alone, hiding behind that stoic exterior. I could never tell if you were trying to protect me or push me away. And now…” Their voice wavered, and they dropped their gaze, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions spilling out. “Now, I don’t even know if you missed me at all. Or if I was just someone you had to look after.”

They hadn’t noticed how Diluc closed the gap between them until they felt a gloved hand caress their hair. “I cared.” They looked up at him with a somber expression. “More than I should. And I still do.” Diluc’s eyes had changed. The unreadable mask they had always found so frustrating had slipped, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I tried to convince myself it was better this way,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “That keeping my distance would protect you—from the burdens I carry, and the dangers that follow me. And though I wasn’t completely wrong,” he put attention to your scarred arm. “Pushing you away felt worse. For both of us.”

He hesitated, his thumb brushing against their cheek as if grounding himself. “You were never just someone I had to look after. You are… everything I’ve been too afraid to lose. I thought keeping my feelings buried would keep you safe, but all it did was drive you away.”

His voice softened further, but the intensity of his words only grew. “I can’t bury it anymore. I won’t.”

Their breath hitched, tears pooling in their eyes as he stepped closer, his other hand reaching to gently hold theirs. His grip was firm, steady, and yet full of care—just like him.

“You have undone me completely,” he said, his voice shaking with the weight of his emotions, “and I have no desire to be put back together.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and profound, and the sincerity in his eyes left no room for doubt. In that moment, the barriers between them shattered, replaced by a warmth that enveloped them both.

Tears slipped down their cheeks, but they smiled through them, their heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve been undone, too,” they whispered, fragile yet filled with hope. “And I don’t want to be whole without you.”

The stars above, as well as the wind, bore witness as they stood there, hands entwined, finally allowing their hearts to speak what had been unsaid for far too long.

—end—

[marauder-misprint]

Earning Trust

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff

If you weren’t talking to anyone last week after your date with Sirius, you weren’t make any sounds now. You stare into your mug of tea like it personally offended you. You could feel Regulus, Pandora, Evan and Barty staring at you, waiting for you to say something. They all saw you leave the common room last night to go to the Gryffindor party and all had retired to their dorms before you got back; Pandora was fast asleep when you entered your room. So far, the only information they had besides you getting back late was that you slept in your clothes, observation courtesy of Pandora, and Dorcas stayed with Marlene, evident from her empty bed that morning and her current presence at the Gryffindor table. 

Regulus holds out the bowl of sugar. “Sugar?”

You silently take one and drop it into your cup. You swirl the hot liquid around to dissolve it. 

“My money’s on sometin’s happened,” Barty says casually. The other three immediately look at him. “Between her ‘n’ other Black. Otherwise she wouldn’t be so…” He waves his hand at you haphazardly. “Whatever the hell this is.” 

“Mopey?” Evan offers.

“Grumpy?” Pandora suggests.

“I was going to say murderous.” Regulus says. “Didn’t even thank me for the sugar.”

You lift your gaze to glare at Regulus. You don’t mean to be grumpy, mopey or even murderous. Well, maybe a little murderous since you would’ve liked to have stayed in bed longer. More than anything, your silence is due to thinking about last night. You didn’t drink nearly enough to black out. No, you remembered all of it. You did drink enough for your filter to be essentially nonexistent, which is why you are questioning every little thing you said. 

Pandora waves her hand in front of your face. “Hello? Frowny McGrumpface?”

You turn your glare to her. “What?”

“She speaks!” Barty declares, throwing his hands up with so much momentum that he almost falls off the back of his seat. 

“We all know you were in Gryffindor Tower last night,” Pandora says matter-of-factly.

“So?” 

“Sooooo,” Barty says, “we know Meadowes didn’t drag you up there kicking and screaming.”

“You’d be correct,” you reply flatly with a roll of your eyes. 

“Did other Black invite you, did he?” Evan asks. “Is he why you went? Bloke’s not even on the team.”

You stand up, still holding onto your mug, and start to walk away. A bit dramatic, maybe, but you are more confused about your feelings than you were after your date with Sirius. You didn’t need your friends prying for every detail of your night. To your slight dismay, Regulus is quick to follow you.

“If it’s my brother, I think I have the right to-” Regulus starts to say as soon as you’re outside the Great Hall’s side door.

“He showed me your constellation.”

He blinks at you with a blank expression. 

“Did you not… learn that third year?”

“No, I did.”

“So why did he-”

“I don’t know, Regulus. Do I look like your brother?” you snap at him, interrupting him for the second time. 

You sigh and take a sip of your tea. Regulus stares at you before rubbing his chin and echoing your sigh. 

“He, erm, was the reason you went, right? He invited you?” Regulus’ voice is soft as he asks this, as if he knew you would clamp up again if he came at it too aggressively.

You nod and take a breath before saying, “I’m glad I went.”

A small smile appears on Regulus’ face. He reaches out to hold your shoulder. You take a tentative sip of your tea, unsure what he was going to do or say.

“If he hurts you in any way, they’ll never find the body. I’ll make sure of it.”

You struggle to swallow your tea so it doesn’t come spurting out of your nose. Regulus slips back inside while you try to compose yourself. You didn’t need to be at the table to know the rest of your friends would be trying to milk Regulus for information, nor that he wouldn’t tell them anything. 

You didn’t make it a full minute outside without Regulus. The biting winter wind was too much for you. You take two more sips of your quickly-cooling tea before going back inside. You set your cup back on the table and then leave the Great Hall. You aren’t particularly hungry, certainly not enough to endure Pandora, Barty and Evan, so you head back to the dungeons. Sleep is really what you need, you decide. 

You didn’t look over at Sirius while you were in the Great Hall. He, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He walked in after you did, spotting you immediately at the Slytherin table with hunched shoulders. He could barely look away to load his plate with food. He wasn’t even listening to whatever drivel his friends were talking about. He watched as you exited and were followed by Regulus, keeping his eyes on the door you disappeared behind until Regulus came back in and then you. From the moment he saw you to when you left the Great Hall alone, Sirius couldn’t rid himself of his smile. 

“Why’re you so chipper this morning?” Peter asks, reaching for his cup of coffee. 

All but Sirius were drinking coffee this morning. 

“Last night.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows. “What about it?”

“It went well. I really think it did.” 

“Does she, ahem, like you?” Remus asks. 

Sirius can’t help the slight blush that dusts his cheeks.

“Oh my Merlin, she does!” James gasps, slamming his hand on the table. “Pads, what?” 

Sirius doesn’t miss the way Remus shifts in his seat before hiding his face behind his cup. Sirius shrugs before stabbing the sausage on his plate. 

“It’s more than her thinking I’m attractive. She said I’m a good time,” Sirius says, his smile growing with each word. He can’t help the feeling of pride blooming in his chest.

“Okay, and?” Remus asks, clearly unconvinced about you coming around to Sirius. 

Sirius presses his lips together as he figures out how to phrase the tipping point from last night. He takes a sip of his tea to buy himself a moment more. 

“And… She trusts me.” 

“Lil’ dog person trusts you, huh?” Peter says.

“What do you mean?” James questions, waving his fork about. “Like you’re a trustworthy bloke but what happened? Did she just say that she trusts you? What does that even mean that she trusts you?”

Sirius chuckles with a shake of his head. “She knew she was drunk and chose to be alone with me.”

Remus waves his hand in a circular motion in front of him to encourage Sirius to go on.

“She was drunk and said, with confidence by the way, that she knew I’d get her back to the dungeons safe. From the Astronomy Tower.”

“That’s a distance,” Peter says with a snort. 

“Yeah, it is. And she was fully convinced that I’d get her back safe ‘n’ sound. If that doesn’t say she trusts me, I don’t know what does.” 

There’s a knowing glint in James’ eyes.

“So, would you say she’s a Sirius person now? Has she fully been converted?” he asks Sirius. 

Sirius didn’t answer right away. Part of him wanted to immediately say yes, you were. But you were drunk last night. He knew better than to confirm anything based on a drunk person’s words. He so desperately wanted everything you said last night to be true, to be how you felt about him. He knows he needs a sober conversation with you. 

“More than she was before,” Sirius says solemnly. 

That much he could say. If he had invited you to a party back when you first approached him this year, you would’ve turned him down with a sneer. You certainly didn’t verbally protest to him spinning you around after the quidditch game. And you danced with him. You invited him to the Astronomy Tower. Even if you were drunk, that had to mean something. 

Despite having homework he could’ve been working on, Sirius wanders the castle for most of the day. He has too much restless energy to sit still and focus - plus, he can always copy off Remus later. Not that anyone was asking, but if someone did, he was most certainly not looking for you. It wasn’t like he kept circling back to the library, the Astronomy Tower and the dungeons. It wasn’t like he kept that route on loop for hours. It wasn’t like he had your words from last night on loop in his mind. It wasn’t like he was hoping to run into you so he could ask you out on a proper second date. It wasn’t like-

“Sirius.” 

He stops in his tracks. The voice of his brother brings him out of his thoughts as he passes through the Slytherin Dungeons again. 

“Regulus,” he replies firmly. 

“Why’re you down here?” Regulus’ voice is flat, emotionless. He has suspicions as to why Sirius is down there, but he wants to hear him say it.

Sirius hums indifferently. “Just walking.”

“In the Slytherin Dungeon. Bit far from your tower, isn’t it?” 

“Taking a long walk.”

“Uh huh… So… you’re not looking for anyone?” A rare smile appears on Regulus’ face. “No one you want to discuss star charts with?” 

Sirius feels a blush creep up his neck as he takes a step toward his brother. 

“What’d she tell you?” he hisses as he flexes his hands within his pockets.

Regulus lets out a singular laugh. He caught his brother. 

“Not much. You showed her Leo and she’s glad she went.” He pauses to let that sink in for Sirius, before adding, “And then I reminded her that if you cross her, they’ll never find the body.”

“Ah, so you’ve decided,” Sirius says, not acknowledging the prior statement. “So, ah, where is she?” 

“Dorm, I think. Haven’t actually seen ‘er since breakfast.”

Sirius frowns. “That’s hours ago.”

“And you haven’t seen her on your… long walk? That’d put her where we can’t go.” 

Sirius clicks his tongue, about to turn away from his brother and go to Gryffindor Tower, when he decides to say one more thing. 

“Don’t tell her I was looking for her?” 

Regulus lets out a real laugh. “Oh, if she appears, I’m telling her.”

Sirius nods and says, “Thought it was worth a shot.”

“It wasn’t,” Regulus tells him flatly before turning away himself and heading back towards his own common room.

Sirius reluctantly heads to the Gryffindor Common Room to work on his homework with the Marauders. If he couldn’t find you to talk about last night, he might as well pretend to be productive. 

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife, @azure-drag0ness

[secretlysimpash]

3 way call🏷🚁

Warning(s): afab fem reader, smut, phone sex, poly PriceNik x reader, MDNI

The phone rang once...Twice...In the middle of the third ring, a familiar, gruff voice picks up. One that is rough from years of cigars, but also one that holds a softness for you.

"Hey, doll...You need somethin'?" John's voice comes through, accompanied by the quiet drone of a car engine and gravel under tires.

"Jh...John, I was just...Calling to check in." You say, trying to keep your tone as even as possible.

Though...It's a bit hard to keep a steady voice devoid of any stuttering or certain sounds when you're bent over the kitchen counter, a thick cock rutting along your soaked folds. The tip rubs over your clit again and again, before slipping in just enough to make you suck in a deep breath.

"I'm just headin' home now, love. The meeting went smoother than expected. Store was absolutely packed too, but I got what we...Needed for...The cannolis?" You can practically hear his brow furrowing over the phone when you shudder out a breath. "Doll, is everything okay? You hurt?"

You try to string together a response, lips close to the phone. Maybe too close...So Nikolai threads his fingers through your hair, yanking just enough to bring his lips to your ear.

"Well...? Are you hurt, малышка?" He asks in a teasing tone, low enough that Price probably won't pick up on it. His hips snap forward after he shoves the skirt of your dress up more, drawing an honestly pathetic mewl from you. "Answer him, baby..." He ends that last demand with a nip to your earlobe.

"Nnh! No! No, not in pain, John!" You babble out, trying to cover the next moan with a forced cough. "No, I'm okay...Dih...Did they have thhh...The powdered sugar...?" A stupid question from the depths of your fucked-stupid brain. His dick hasn't even been inside of you that long yet...Pathetic, truly.

Silence on the other end. Silence while Nikolai sets into a steady pace, thrusting into your gummy walls.

"'Course they did." John responds after a moment of your own deep breathing. You can hear the sound of his car stopping through the speaker. "I stopped at the store near base, so I'm still about twenty minutes away."

Oh, lovely.

"O-oh yeah...? I'm--ohgod--I'll see you soon..."

Faintly, you hear him kill the engine. Then, the rustling of clothes...A zipper being tugged down.

"I think you'll see me right now." He said matter-of-factly, followed by a soft chuckle. "Nikolai...Help our bird out, hang up."

Your cheeks burn slightly when you realize that he knew. Of course he knew. A soft, frustrated whine leaves you as Nikolai stops thrusting for a moment. He stalls inside of you, cock twitching as he hangs up the call. Not even a second later, a video call comes through.

Nikolai picks up, positioning the phone to keep both of you in view.

"John! This view is fine, yes?"

On the other end, you can see John leaning back in the driver's seat, fly undone and pants shoved down enough to free his cock. He's slowly stroking it from the base to the reddened tip, eyes on you and Nikolai.

"Good...Fine for now. Might ask you to give me a different view soon but...Resume for now, love." He instructs, his eyes darker than you remember. "Keep making those pretty noises for Nik and I...Can't drive the rest of the way home like this..."

Without hesitation, Nikolai goes back to thrusting...Even deeper than before as he buries himself inside of you. He pulls you up slightly, enough that John can see him pawing at your tits, tugging your hardened buds to pull more moans from you.

Once Nikolai and John came, John instructs Nik to keep you plugged up until he gets home...And the rest of the night, your husbands made sure every hole was filled over and over and over.