#This became so much more than a simple request what happened to ME??????!!!!

[writingdevil]

I LOVED Tongues and Teeth; it's such a good fic! And you said the ParaCold crumbs you sprinkled into it were just for you but they also felt like a gift to meeee :D I LOVE THEM! So may I request anything you might feel like writing for ParaCold?

(AAH! Of course! I love your blog and your ParaCold stuff! I'm so happy that you requested this because now I have an excuse to write about them! Enjoy!)

Cold had a staring problem.

Paranoid knew this because he fucking hated being stared at.

Normal eye contact was fine-Paranoid could deal with that without twitching too much. But he couldn't stand blatant, intense staring ,as if somebody was trying to see through his bones and feathers and find all his fears and secrets within him. It made his skin crawl and his mind whirl with an endless variety of creatures that wanted to reach out and snatch him up and into the darkness.

The only person that Paranoid was semi-okay with staring at him, was Hunted, and that was because Hunted was an intense creature with a need to check everyone and make sure they're alright, so Paranoid would just grit his teeth and bare it in those moments.

But any other time, he would feel this intense itching, and a crawling fear would creep up his spine, and all Paranoid would want to do was run to the darkest corner he could find so that nothing could perceive him anymore.

Cold had been staring at him lately.

Anytime Paranoid walked into a room, his feathers would puff up in alarm and his heart would pound, and he would be spinning around like a madman, looking for the culprit. Sometimes it would happen when he was just out for a walk!

It was Cold. It was always Cold.

Paranoid would find the bird in the corner of a room that nobody seemed to care about, and Cold's steel gaze would linger down his body like frost, leaving him shivering yet burning at the same time, and he would just glare at Cold from afar and go somewhere to escape his icy eyes.

As much as it irked Paranoid, he knew that it was just Cold being Cold. Maybe a few months ago, he would've marched up to him and told him to knock it off, but that would've been pointless.

Besides, he knew Cold was just eying up something potentially interesting. He goes through phases of intrigue with each member of the flock from time to time, but that intrigue never lasted long, except for maybe Contrarian, who Paranoid still couldn't quite understand even now.

Cold would lose interest eventually, Hero assured, and Paranoid personally couldn't wait to stop feeling Cold's eyes on him.

A week passed, and he still felt Cold staring at him. Then another week, and Paranoid started to stay in his room longer, as the itching was seriously freaking him out now, and he was losing sleep on top of it.

On the third week, a knock was heard at his door, and he didn't even stop to ask who it was before he opened it without a thought, finding Hunted nervously standing in front of him, switching between glancing down the hall, then back at him.

"Hunted? What's wrong?" Hunted's body straightened up in alertness, as if ready to pounce. He looked at Paranoid for a split second, before doing a double take, eyes wide and twitching. Paranoid was about to ask what was wrong, but then Hunted shook his head, as if to rid himself of his shock.

Paranoid had no idea what to expect, but when Hunted nodded out towards the hallway and said, "Follow," he thought it best to obey him.

They walked side by side, and Hunted was making an obvious effort to not look at Paranoid for whatever reason, and he explained, "I need your help." Hunted briefly made eye contact with him and added, "No one's in danger."

That, at least, made some of the tension leave Paranoid's body. "What's got you so wound up then?"

"It's Cold," Hunted grumbled, and Paranoid immediately stopped in his tracks. Hunted stopped as well, but continued to calmly explain, "He was out with Contrarian this morning, and now his feathers are a mess. He needs to preen. Now-at once."

Now it was beginning to make sense. Preening was one of the very few non life-threatening activities that Hunted took very seriously. To the point where Contrarian had dubbed him the 'Preening Patrol' because of how serious Hunted took preening. If there was even a feather out of place, Hunted wasn't above chasing someone and pinning them to the ground to take care of their wings. Stubborn learned that the hard way.

Cold, predictably, had no interest in preening, seeing it as a useless waste of time and pointless. Paranoid has never seen him preen his wings, and to his knowledge, Hunted is the only reason his wings looked presentable half the time.

But that still didn't explain why Hunted needed Paranoid. "Okay?" he said in confusion, "Then go preen his wings. You've never had a problem with this before."

"I can't," Hunted insisted, "he won't let me."

Paranoid chuckled. "That's never stopped you either." He's had the pleasure of watching Hunted drag an unimpressed Cold back to his room for preening with an iron grip around his wrist, and there would always be a hint of mild frustration on Cold's face everytime, as if this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. But Hunted always got his way when it came to preening.

Right now though, Hunted just looked more and more antsy as he finally looked Paranoid in the eye, who squirmed at the action, and said, "I can't. He said he'll only let you preen him."

Immediately, Paranoid's feathers puffed up, and a heat that could only be from nervous panic took ahold of him in that moment.

What? Him? Why? Why him? It was only ever Hunted that preened Cold-why did Cold want somebody else now?

It was a trap, Paranoid was sure of it. This was a trap, and Cold was going to do something awful to him-that was what the staring had been all about. Cold was trying to figure out what the most fun and interesting way to torment him would be, and now he found it, and now he was going to do something that would set Paranoid on edge forever.

"No," the words were barely out of his mouth before Hunted swiftly stood right in front of him, a pleading look in his eyes. "Please."

"No. I don't trust this."

"It's bad to have wings as messy as his. What if there's danger? What if his feathers tangle together into tiny knots until he can't fly away, and he's killed instantly?"

Paranoid gritted his teeth, crossing his arms in frustration because he knew Hunted was playing to his sensitivities and fears-because those were all thoughts Paranoid would have.

Still, he turned his head away, not convinced that the danger wasn't Cold in this situation.

But then he saw Hunted lower his head, making himself look smaller as he leaned closer to Paranoid, and he found that he couldn't look away as Hunted stared up at him with big, shiny, and irresistibly adorable eyes. "Please," he once again said, feathers puffing up to make him look less feral, and Paranoid immediately felt his heart melt at the sight.

Damnit. Opportunist taught Hunted well.

He scrunched up his face in confliction, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Hunted and his adorable face, until he groaned loudly. "Ugh! Fine! I'll do it!" he conceded, and Hunted immediately dropped the cute display, going back to calm vigilance, if a bit satisfied with himself.

Paranoid glared at him, pointing a finger to his chest and said, "But if anything happens to me in there, you're gonna be my bodyguard for a whole month, okay?"

Hunted nodded his head solemnly. "I will." Then a pause, then Hunted quietly said, "Thank you," and that made all the annoyance leave Paranoid's body, and he sighed and said, "Yeah. I'll let you know when I'm done."

He walked past Hunted, who gave him a soft forehead bump on his arm as he passed, and Paranoid smiled at the gesture-until he got to Cold's room.

It was as if the very temperature around the room dropped, and Paranoid felt goosebumps shoot up his arms. In the back of his head, whispers of worst case scenarios and flashes of potential horrors flooded his mind, and he took a second to press his palms against his eyes until the whispers shut up-and he felt relatively calm again.

He took a deep breath in, staring at the door. Should he knock? Should he just walk right in? Cold didn't seem like the type to care about locking doors. But what if this was the one place where Cold would lock a door, because it was where Cold felt safest and he didn't want anyone to see him-

"You can come in, you know."

Paranoid yelped at the voice, but it did help stop his mind from spiralling further. He glared through the wooden door, at the insufferable bird on the other side of it, and that last little spark of anger was what pushed him to open the door and walk in.

He took a step into the room, before a full body shiver overtook his body, as he stared into Cold's eyes.

He was sitting on his bed, as if waiting for him, kneeling and facing him with a mask of boredom on his face, although Paranoid did catch a little spark of surprise in his eyes, as if he hadn't expected Paranoid to go through with this.

In a really fucked up way, Paranoid felt like he was back in that cabin, walking down to confront the Nightmare.

Of course, Cold was staring at him, and Paranoid tried to ignore the horrible sensation it brought upon him, by clenching his fists and studying Cold's room.

He hadn't really known what to expect, but a random assortment of items felt the most appropriate for Cold. There were many feathers scattered in every spot in the room, along with books strewn about the floor, and Paranoid recognised a few of them as belonging to Skeptic.

Cold also had many handmade weapons just lying around, which definitely didn't help Paranoid's heart calm down. There was a bow leaning against a wall next to the window in the room, and a pile of both normal and broken arrows, and Paranoid bet if he looked out the window, he'd find a bunch of arrows popping up everywhere.

There was also a bedside table that had five or six handmade knives sat atop of it, and that was when Paranoid became immediately aware of the various scratches and marks on the walls, and even noticed a crimson tint on some of the blades. He forced himself not to dwell on it.

There just seemed to be a lot of miscellaneous items that Cold had tried to amuse himself with, before losing interest and throwing them aside. He felt a draft slip in from one of the wall marks near him, and it merely highlighted how bitterly freezing the room was.

Eventually, his gaze made its way back to Cold, who hadn't taken his eyes off him the entire time-in fact, it only seemed to get more intense.

Paranoid shut the door behind him and said, "I hear you're causing problems for Hunted."

"Am I?" Cold said, then lifting a wing to show off, and Paranoid winced at the state of them. Hunted probably almost lost his mind when Cold refused to let him preen him.

"Why do you want me to preen your wings? You know Hunted's the best at it."

Cold shrugged. "Got bored of him doing it. He just focuses on the task and then scurries off. He doesn't even respond when I try to talk to him."

"Probably because you keep trying to convince him that there's danger around every corner."

A quirk of a smile. "He's more interesting that way. Jumpy and unpredictable."

"Scaring our most competent flockmate won't bode well when there's an actual threat that needs dealing with." Cold rolled his eyes.

"Anyways," Paranoid said, "back to the issue at hand-why me? Why won't you let anyone else do it?" Cold shrugged again, then casually replied with, "You were the first one to come to mind."

His heart pounded in dread. Cold was definitely up to something. Cold was absolutely going to try something if Paranoid went through with this. He should leave. He should turn around and just tell Hunted to slam him to the ground and preen him, because there was no way that Paranoid could go through with this.

But then cold air hit his face, and he flinched as his feathers puffed up to keep him warm, and he focused back on Cold, just as he turned around so that his back was facing Paranoid,and he glanced over his shoulder and said, "Well? Aren't you going to start?"

He should leave. He should leave. He should leave.

He found himself walking forward.

Paranoid chalked it up to not wanting to upset Hunted further, as he kept his eyes on Cold's hands, which were politely folded in his lap, but that didn't mean he didn't have a weapon hidden somewhere, if his room was anything to go by.

He kept his fists clenched tight as he slowly walked forward, then sunk his knees into the bed, and Cold sent him one last look before turning to face ahead again. Finally, his skin didn't feel on fire for the time being, and he watched as Cold spread his disastrous mess of wings out for him. Shit, how long was this going to take? Paranoid didn't even take time into account for this. But he's here now, and he has no choice but to go through with it.

He started with the right wing, and they were sitting in silence for a few minutes, but Paranoid knew that wouldn't last.

At some point, he got really stuck into the preening, almost completely forgetting who he was with-until Cold suddenly flapped his wings wildly, sending feathers and dust everywhere, and Paranoid jumped back in shock, putting an arm out to block the rough action.

When Cold decided to stop, Paranoid looked up, only to find that all his hard work had been erased, Cold's wings looking as messy as the beginning.

He glared as he sat up, even though Cold couldn't see him. "What the hell was that for?!" Cold shrugged, tossing him a nonchalant look over his shoulder as he said, "I needed to stretch my wings. I can't help that."

"Tell me that next time!" Paranoid ordered, then sighed as he started all over again. But merely five minutes later, Cold's right wing jerked itself out of Paranoid's grip, as if spasming, before settling back down.

"You're doing this on purpose!"

"My wing cramped up. I can't help it."

"You can't seem to help anything. Is this all you really wanted me for?"he asked, spreading his arms out as he said, "Did you just want to piss me off?"

Cold didn't reply for a few seconds, before lowering his head as he said, "You're here to preen my wings." Paranoid glared harder, ignoring how soft those words were spoken.

There was nothing he could do but begin again, quickly this time, so that maybe Cold wouldn't do that again, and in an attempt to distract him, Paranoid asked, "Why don't you like getting your wings preened? You're able to do more things with well-groomed wings, like flying, and I doubt you'd want to give that up."

Cold shrugged. "It's too tedious to think about in the long run." Paranoid managed to get a small clump of dirt out of Cold's wings, and he felt the appendages tense up for a second, then relax.

"The only way you can experience things in the present is to not get bogged down by the past or the future." Paranoid flicked the dirt away, having many qualms about that logic, but now wasn't the time to get into that.

Especially when Cold turned to give Paranoid a sharp side eye and say, "Like how you do."

Paranoid froze, fingers tensing up while still buried in dark feathers. Cold kept his eyes locked on him, and then slowly tilted his head back until he was staring at Paranoid upside down, and Paranoid's hands were uselessly floating by Cold's head as his wings moved out of his grip.

The itching came back full force, but he also felt like if he moved, Cold would strike, and have no mercy with him. At this angle, Cold was maybe giving him either an intense look or just a weird, curious look, but Paranoid couldn't focus on anything else other than Cold as he said, "You let silly little things like the past give you fears, and the future give you mistrust. You never let yourself just be in the moment."

"So?" Paranoid managed to grit out, "It's almost impossible for somebody to not be thinking about the past or future, even to a small degree."

"But the amount you let it control you seems unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?" Paranoid repeated in shock and disbelief, letting a sharp laugh out, then retorted with, "If I wasn't constantly thinking about what the princess's next move would be, then we would all have died a lot quicker."

"But we still died, so how useful was it really?"

"Way more than you could ever understand."

Cold's eyes widened for a moment, but Paranoid couldn't tell if it was from shock or amusement. He got his answer when Cold's gaze hardened as he said, "I understand that hiding in your room all day doesn't seem very useful."

Paranoid's fingers curled, as if he could imagine digging them into Cold's skull.

"You think I didn't notice? How you suddenly stopped popping up around the place with your nervous mumbling and twitching? I'm fairly certain that holing up in your room won't help you in case something attacks us, arguably more than unpreened wings."

He noticed. He noticed his absence and had done all this just to drag him out of his room. Sure, Cold hadn't actually done anything yet, but the mere fact that Cold had planned this to get him out of his room was enough to have Paranoid shaking in fear.

Cold's eyes flicked across his face, and Paranoid wasn't sure what he was looking for-but he found it, and straightened back up so quick it made Paranoid flinch.

He found his fingers grazing soft feathers again, and he found himself petting the feathers down softly as a way to bring himself back to reality. He kept doing that until the trembling subsided, and all Paranoid was left with tense anxiety, trying to understand what Cold's goal was here.

He hadn't even realized that he had started on the other wing, until Cold once again flapped his wings aggressively about, undoing all his hard work.

Paranoid tipped his head back and groaned loudly. "I was halfway done! Why do you keep doing this?You're just dragging this out longer than it needs to be." Cold's response was a shrug.

Paranoid stared at Cold. Well-the back of Cold-and he was beginning to get sick of this fear having a chokehold on him, so he just sighed and calmly asked, "What do I have to do to get you to stay still?"

That was Paranoid's mistake.

Cold hummed in thought, then glanced back at Paranoid and said, "Let me preen your wings as well."

"What? They don't need to be-"

But when Paranoid glanced down at his own wings, he realized with horror that they did need to be preened. Quite badly, in fact. Did he not preen at all in his bedroom?

Then Paranoid remembered the way Hunted was looking at him as they walked, how he looked nervous and twitchy. It was because Paranoid's wings were a mess.

He tore his gaze away from Cold's intense eyes, his mind screaming,' No!'

He didn't let anyone touch his wings. He preened them himself because he only trusted himself to do it right. The only exception was Hunted, and that was because not letting Hunted preen his flockmates was as cruel as Paranoid not having his chant-and now he was starting to realise that he let Hunted get away with way more than he should.

His eyes kept flicking between Cold and his hands, that were still gently holding his feathers. He couldn't go through with this, right? He couldn't actually let Cold preen him, right? What if this was where he made his awful move?

On top of that, Paranoid had finally gotten his wings to a presentable state. With Hero's help, he managed to stop nervously overpreening, and now Paranoid was actually quite proud of how they looked. Was Cold going to undo all that?

But then again, Cold hadn't actually done anything yet.

He doubted that Cold was going to pluck every feather from him, so whatever he had planned, it was probably just to anger or spook him, and Paranoid found that he could deal with that. He could deal with mind games, no matter how jumpy it made him-the Construct had felt like one big mind game. Besides, he's come this far, so he can't exactly back out now.

As he made himself look Cold in the eyes, he found himself unable to look away, the temperature of the room rising and making Paranoid flush with stress. He nodded his head, and he gulped at the wicked smile Cold sent him.

It was sickening, how Cold didn't move a muscle as he preened his wings again.

Paranoid was finished-all too soon-and he just stared nervously as Cold scooted out of the way for him. He stared at the empty spot for a second, before slowly moving to be in front of Cold.

He twisted his fingers around in his lap, his head ducked low as he waited for whatever Cold had planned. He tried to remain calm, to not think the worst of Cold in this moment. But after a few seconds of nothing but silence, Paranoid tensed up, attempting to turn his head to see what was wrong-when hands suddenly slammed down onto his shoulders.

He screeched in shock, and would've jumped ten feet into the air, if not for the tight grip Cold had on him, claws clutching his shoulders and keeping him on the bed. Paranoid held a hand to his chest, attempting to quell the shaking of his body, when he heard Cold chuckle in soft amusement.

His hand curled into a fist against his pounding heart, but before he could yell at the other-Cold squeezed his shoulders, then began to gently massage them. Paranoid wriggled on the spot, not used to the weird feeling, until he eventually felt the tension in his body leave against his will, and he shut his eyes tight, hating how his body relaxed against the ministrations, until his shoulders slumped and his wings weren't pinned to his back anymore.

He focused on getting his heartbeat under control, as Cold slowly slid his hands from his shoulders down to his back, dragging his claws lightly as he went. Paranoid ignored the shiver that went through him, or how he could still feel the path Cold had made, even when he stopped halfway.

Cold just splayed his palms against his back, and Paranoid sighed, blindly waving an arm back at him. "Are you going to preen me or not?" he asked impatiently, and Cold just hummed in response, then lightly grazed a finger across his right wing and said, "I've just never seen them like this before. It's a funny sight." Cold finally started to preen his right wing, but it felt like he was barely making an effort to do it right, and then he asked, "Do you think you'll be able to fly?"

Paranoid felt apprehension at the thought of flying, so simply said, "I don't think I'd be very good at it." Cold hummed again, twisting a feather between his thumb and index finger, and said, "That would be an interesting sight to see."

It was at this moment, that Paranoid realised that he hadn't felt that itching sensation once since Cold started preening him, but of course-as soon as he realised that, was when Cold decided to strike.

There was a few seconds of peaceful silence, and Paranoid actually felt like everything was going to be okay, when Cold suddenly leaned forward, pressing his chest against his back, fingers still buried in his feathers-and then Cold rested his chin on top of Paranoid's shoulder, sighing in relief as if this was what he wanted all along.

Paranoid could do nothing but shake in that moment, frozen as the itching came back full force, crawling all over his body like bugs trying to rip his skin open and escape. All he could do to keep it together was stare into the distance, and mutter his chant under his breath as Cold pressed up behind him.

He could feel Cold's icy breath hitting his flushed skin as he asked, "Why were you hiding in your room for days? What scared you that badly?"

Paranoid finally got his nerves under control just enough to hiss out,"You were the reason. You kept staring at me."

"Why was that so bad?" Cold asked, stroking his hand over his wing almost lovingly. Paranoid hated how nice it felt.

He gripped the sheets next to him and quietly snapped, "You know I hate staring. You know I hate the eyes." Cold turned his head slightly to stick his face into Paranoid's neck, and that was also when he fixed a particular feather that had been irritating him, back into place. The whole thing made Paranoid release a breath, but he wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

Cold hummed, and it vibrated through his skin so much that it almost got rid of the the itching. He didn't even notice that he leaned his head back to give Cold more room.

"I apologize," Cold murmured against his skin, "for frightening you. That wasn't my intention."

"What was, then?" Paranoid whispered, his mind whirling with too many feelings and sensation to string a single coherent sentence together.

Cold leaned back just enough for Paranoid to hear the hidden sincerity in his voice. "I just find you interesting. You jump and tremble and fear-but you also snap and stress and protect. You let your mind cage you with your delusions, but you still know exactly what to do to keep the others safe. I remember enjoying our conversation about pain. I kept feeling a need to talk to you again, but I was trying to figure out why."

"Then you locked yourself in your room and everything got so dull again. Nobody to scare and nobody to challenge what I know. I needed a reason to see you again, to understand what I'm feeling."

Paranoid wanted to understand too. His heart was pounding, his feathers were puffing up, and his skin was on fire. All of these were usually signs that something terrible was about to happen-but the itching was gone. Cold was staring at him and the itching was gone. In fact, everything actually felt-quite nice.

The weight of Cold against his back, the sound of his voice so close to him, the gentle grazing of fingers in his wings-it made his mind melt, and it finally shut the whispers up.

Paranoid has never felt relaxed before, but Cold was apparently changing that.

His voice came out breathless and strained as he tried to explain, "I-I just-I thought you would-were going to do something b-bad to me."

"Oh, is that what you believed?" Cold said, not sounding offended in the slightest. In fact, he actually sounded amused. Paranoid could barely focus on his voice as he felt Cold drag a hand over his back. Cold tilted his head an inch closer to whisper, "Do you want to know what I believe?" Paranoid bit his lip, but nodded.

"I believe you think far too much for my liking."

Then Cold dragged his claws down to the base of his back, right in-between his wings, where all of them were extremely sensitive.

Paranoid couldn't stop himself as he arched his back and let a soft moan out, but even though his face was on fire, his head was swimming with pleasure-no worries, no fears, nothing but sweet, sugary pleasure.

He could feel how ragged Cold's breath had gotten, and his voice lowered to a husky tone as he whispered, "I think I like that reaction."

The next thing either of them knew-they were twisting around to meet each other, and crashing their lips against one another.

Everything was hot and desperate, and Paranoid threw his arms around Cold's neck, while Cold kept one hand in his feathers, and the other bringing Paranoid closer, and the feeling of Cold's icy breath in between their lips only urged Paranoid to keep kissing, keep chasing this pleasure, keep chasing Cold-

But then they suddenly parted, and Paranoid panted as Cold gave him a soft and wary look, his voice uncertain and almost scared as he whispered, "Do I still frighten you?"

Paranoid stared at him, really stared at Cold-at the clouded look in his eyes, at how carefully he was holding Paranoid-and no itching feeling overcame him in that moment.

So Paranoid cupped Cold's face and brought him into another searing kiss.

[burreauxoxo]

illicit affairs - joe burrow

secretboyfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: you started out as friends but once things start to progress, it takes more than the threats given to you by the NFL for you two to stop seeing each other.

warnings: use of ‘y/l/n’, secret relationship, swearing (very little)

word count: 3.6k

note: this is my first bit of writing i am posting here on tumblr! i am still learning the ins and outs so tips and tricks are appreciated. any suggestions towards my writing are always helpful! banner below does not belong to me! same for the pictures above! all credits go to the owners!

~

when it came to working with the cincinnati bengals, it was simple. you edit the film for the players to watch on the many tablets that reside on the sidelines, then you go home.

when you were hired for the job, the contract was extensive. you were to:

1. stay away from the players outside of the stadium if it meant the occasion would lead to foul play.

2. agree on certain clips and informtion being confidential.

3. not discuss what happens to each player if it is not known, public information.

4. and again... stay away from the players if it meant foul play would be the outcome.

you could look at the players or their wives and girlfriends as friends, you could meet for dinner or even post-game celebrations. but if it was a solo outing and things looked steamy, you were conference room bound.

but when it came to a certain quarterback, the temptation was strong. intensely compelling even.

nothing was worth losing your job; and you meant nothing.

very few occasions did you come upon where it was hard to speak to him. just this last time, it had led to an impromptu bathroom break to collect your thoughts. but otherwise, you needed to keep it professional.

professional for the higher-ups and the officials that were constantly hovering over your shoulder and asking you to transfer certain clips to them before they even reached the players.

professional so the players wouldn’t suspect anything.

professional so the fans wouldn't disect the clips or photos of every time you two were seen together.

because only the two of you were to know what has happened and what will happen outside of that stadium.

it all started when you were given a request by a certain quarterback for a clip where people were calling his accuracy questionable. he could have waited for the mass release of the whole game to be uploaded or even ask the coach to put in a request for a certain timeframe so he was able to rewatch this "questionable" play.

instead, he went straight to the source.

"i didn't want any delay, i just need to see what was happening."

that was the main excuse for his sudden knock on the media room door. players rarely came up to that door. but after an outfit change and a long press conference, joe burrow was determined to get that thirty second clip onto his tablet as soon as he wanted it.

but after conversing with you, he knew that wasn't going to be the last time he was going to see you.

it quickly became repetitive. at first, you didn't realize that maybe his visits were intentional. some may call you naive, but you were sure that it was really, truly impossible.

joe burrow taking time out of his day to come see you? yeah right, cue the laughing track.

but when he got closer, pulled out one of the rolling chairs and asked you to explain what you were doing, the heat practically radiated off of your cheeks to represent just how nervous you were. you had just adapted to his random visits, requesting clips. but now, he was acting interested in what you were doing. it was truly impossible.

that was all you could tell yourself. joe burrow was... a lot of things. you, not so much. so what made you different from all of the well-known, famous females he had at his fingertips?

first, he offered to walk you to your car. you had politely declined and said that the pink container of pepper spray you had in your bag would do the job. if you were being honest, the guards that watched over the parking lot were the only things that kept you safe. when it was just you at the end of the night, you'd be too scared shitless to dig for a small pink container, let alone unlock it and coordinate a decent aim to knock them onto their ass.

so, an offer from someone other than a guard or an off-duty custodian was nice for a change. you declined him anyways.

what came with a decline, was a follow-up visit.

"i was wondering if you had any backlog of clips from the game against the commanders? i'd like to revist... you know?"

"i have backlog from the beginning of my stay here. care for a game from twenty twenty-one?"

joe sat there as you looked in the file from the game he wanted. you offered the whole game or him specifically; you had both.

"the whole game works."

with a few clicks and a thirty second wait, you spun your chair in his direction.

"check your tablet." you say and nod your head at the device that sat on his leg while he waited. he seen a gray square start to show up with a loading signal circling in the middle of it. give or take a minute or two, a clip that was an hour and a half long had been uploaded.

"thanks."

you thought he'd head out after that. but he didn't. he asked how long you had and you told him you were packing up now.

you watched him stand up, unknowing of what was to come.

the both of you had stopped at your car first. he lingered for a second before he gave you a look. a look that signified more than you'd like to admit. you insisted on putting your bags and equipment down first and then the conversation could continue.

but before you knew it, the both of you were in the back of your car... the rest of the night simply ahead of you. the back of your car wasn’t ideal, but it kept the both of you away from being seen by anybody.

nights like that one only continued. it happened another time or two before he offered to take you somewhere else.

"no, we shouldn't." you insisted and at the time, he agreed.

the sneaking around didn't stop, it seemed too easy of a task. that was probably the worst thing you had ever admitted.

a few more identical excursions took place before joe stopped agreeing that you two shouldn’t be doing this.

“what happens with us, stays between us. nobody is going to know.”

he melted the worries that swarmed your head. somewhere down the line of history within the nfl, you couldn’t have been the first ones to play the officials and sneak around a couple times.

you finally agreed one night. but that night, wasn’t the end zone. it wasn’t going to stop there.

it got to the point of joe going to a smoothie shop or out for lunch so you would "bump into him." you took it as an opportunity to go for a run since the meetings usually took place in the earlier hours of the day. your landing spot would be the location he told you and the both of you would basically stage a situation.

you ran until you reached the location, you would check your apple watch, you'd walk into the establishment and you'd place an order. when you would turn around, the two of you would catch each others eyes and then act surprised. but, it wasn't going to last long acting that way.

it would become too frequent. the guards that lingered in the gated community that kept watch of his home, would gain recognition of you and would later learn your identity. for some strange reason, you thought that would be the downfall.

and you were right.

it wasn't one hundred percent the security guards fault. he had other places he needed to keep an eye on. as soon as he happened to drive away for maybe five minutes, it was perfect timing for a photographer to capture one single photo of you walking out of joe’s house, him shirtless behind you.

eventually, the developing nightmare landed you in one of those dark and scary conference rooms that you told yourself you'd never be in unless the problem wasn’t you but someone else. your luck had run out. you said it wasn't worth losing your job.

when you unplugged your equipment to load it into your bag for work that morning, a part of you knew it could be for the last time.

each seat in the ominous conference room was occupied by yourself, joe, a handful of higher-ups, your manager, coach taylor, and joe's agent.

the tension in the room was high. you paid careful attention to the many sheets of paper that were floating from person to person at the table. everyone but joe and yourself had a stack of papers in front of them. they all make a signal that was very obviously planned, and pull the photo that was taken of the two of you to the front of the stack.

"miss. y/l/n, you understand why we are all gathered here today, right?" one of the main guys said.

"yes, sir. i do." you replied. you held your hands together in front of you and on the table to appear as professional as possible. you told yourself it was too late but really, it was never too late.

"mr. burrow, do you understand why we are here today?"

"i do." joe says, not one ounce of doubt or discouragement in his voice.

"well then, let's get this show on the road. some time in the early hours of this morning, we received an email that held this photo that depicts the both of you standing in the entry way of mr. burrow's house. miss y/l/n, you signed a contract a few years ago, agreeing on a whole section that is based around fraternization. what comes with a signiture, is agreeing to the consequences, correct?" your manager speaks.

"yes, sir." you nod.

"with that being said, after the both of you are given a chance to explain yourselves, immediate termination will likely take place, just as the contract states. you are given a chance for explaination to really confirm if that route is necessary, but there is photo proof. there is no turning back from that." he adds.

"wait, so she is getting terminated for a two person job? this included the both of us, it is partially my fault as well." joe says.

"we understand that. your contract is constructed differently though. if you land yourself in a position of being with, let's say, an agent, a manager, a coach, or someone from the front office, similar results would occur. but your contract is different from hers here."

“alright. i’d like to explain first. to start, does anyone have a copy of her contract?” joe asks.

you sat there listening to his words, no clue what he was going to say. he could dissect your contract and spill every hidden action you two participated in; if he truly wanted to, he could.

your manager slides over a three-paged packet and lets joe take a look at it.

“here. it states that she is to stay away from players outside of the stadium if it meant the occasion was going to lead to foul play. does having a smoothie count as foul play?” joe asks.

“no, it does not.” your manager says, still not backing down from the strict and solid attitude he stepped in with.

“does having lunch count as foul play?” joe continues.

“it does not.”

“one of our cheerleaders is great friends with a wife of someone on the team, they went to college together. if she were to go to that players house to either drop something off, visit the wife, or even have dinner as friends, would that count as foul play?” joe asks.

“no mr. burrow, it does not.” your manager sighs.

“okay then. miss y/l/n here did not contribute to any noteworthy foul play and i am here as a witness.”

“joe, you are shirtless while she is leaving your house. what does that say or maybe even imply?” coach taylor says.

��i was working out and she dropped lunch off. she was in the area and asked if i needed anything.”

“would you have proof?” your manager asks.

you both pull your phones out of your back pockets. you both scroll through a couple texts and pull up identical text conversations. you’re telling him you had a doctors appointment in the area and would bring him lunch if he wanted something, and then there was a break in the texts. you didn’t know what he was really doing but it played into the “working out” plan.

“hm, okay. i guess this is why we allow explanations.” your manager says and looks around the table at all the guys who sat there, defeated looks put on view.

“so, nobody is losing their job today?” joe asks.

“no, she is not. we want to instill the rules and remind you that stuff behind the scenes will be investigated if it needs to be. stop with the clandestine meetings and if you two are good friends, then let that show. the secrecy raised red flags but i’m glad you two were able to confirm what was truly happening. on a similar note, if anything is going on between the two of you, now is the time to say so. coming to us and telling us would make the situation a lot better than if we were to find out through the media.”

you and joe look at each other and shrug.

“no. we are just friends.”

~

it didn’t end there.

joe was asked on multiple occasions if a follow-up meeting was necessary. after you were seen at an event for the joe burrow foundation, you received an email. after you were seen participating in bye week shenanigans, you received an email. you wore a jersey with the number nine on it and guess what, you received an email!

you had talked to joe many times about just telling them because this something, was becoming obvious. ja’marr was calling you “joe’s girl” and joe wouldn’t deny it. you’d go no longer than a couple days without seeing each other. the eye contact alone would cause a ruckus if an outsider happened to see it.

but it was the times joe told you to clean up after yourself once you were leaving his place for the first time in a couple days. you’d thought about leaving a small trace of you behind in case something else was going on. but at this point, it was truly impossible.

the more he’d mention not to leave things behind, the more you thought this was going to fade out. you stopped mentioning the possibility of speaking to the higher-ups about the two of you. you stopped offering your support.

it was until he mentioned you coming to a basketball game with him that you felt like calling it off. you didn’t want to look like a fool. people were already calling you “his side piece.”

that was the last name you wanted to be called.

so once you showed up at his place, ready for the game that would take place later on that day, he felt something was off.

“you could have said you didn’t feel like going.” joe admits in the silence.

“i wanted to go.” you say, silence falling over the two of you once again.

“listen, if telling your manager and my coach and whoever else makes you feel better, then let’s do it.” joe finally says.

“it wouldn’t just ‘make me feel better.’ that isn’t even what’s on my mind.” you say.

“okay then, what is?”

“i know you like your privacy and your own space and whatnot, but why do you make sure i have all of my stuff cleaned up before i leave? am i not the only one or am i in the way of something?”

“no, not at all. i was just trying to play along with the story we have going. if someone were to come over here and see your stuff everywhere, then it says a lot.” joe explains.

you believed it. it was a reasonable meaning.

“you know, i would have agreed to getting fired that day if it meant things would work out.” you admitted.

“what? absolutely not. it’s a job we both took part in. if i wasn’t being fired too then how is that fair and do you feel like things aren’t working out right now?”

“i don’t know.”

joe came closer to you, eyeing your features.

"i will find a way to make sure all of this works out." joe says.

the pit that grew in your stomach, triples in size due to the sudden use of your nerves. what did he mean by that?

~

the night went on just as you expected. there wasn’t much time left until the game would be over and a winner would be declared. joe sat with his arms crossed, a small smile still displayed on his serious face. on occasion, you’d glance over and admire his features and how he focused on a different team for once.

the way he followed each player as they ran up and down the court. the way he’d celebrate a score when a basket was made after a serious battle between the ball and the surrounding players. it was nice to see him enthralled with something other than the game he played for a living.

you had noticed that a “kiss cam” was being displayed on the screens, broadcasting various couples to the whole arena.

it stunned you when your figure next to joe’s was displayed on said screen. the noise in the arena picked up as joe leans into you some, turning your face to look towards him with his pointer finger and thumb. his other arm was resting behind you; the moment looked too casual.

a feeling like no other, his lips on yours for not only the whole arena to see but for all of the viewers to see. feeling like one of the first times you shared a conversation with him, the heat radiating off of your cheeks was almost too hot to handle.

you kept as calm as you could, smiling through the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins. that same adrenaline didn’t leave you for the rest of the night. once you and joe were escorted out of the arena, you both knew you’d be receiving an email about what had happened, maybe even a conference room invite.

the two of you seen it coming, so why stop now?

~

the next morning, joe had practice to be at. you were cuddled in a ball of his blankets when you were woken up by your phone ringing multiple times back to back.

joe.

“hello?” you ask.

“they want you to meet us here for a meeting. none of them look happy but… what can you do?” he jokes.

now wasn’t the time for jokes if none of them looked happy. but you still climbed out of your warm cave you made with his comforter and got up to change. throughout the duration of preparing yourself, you contemplated a lot.

this could be it. you could be losing your job. over some frivolous actions. it was official… joe burrow clouded your ability to make better decisions.

once you made it to the stadium, the speed behind your steps kicked up a notch. you walked with confidence to show that you don’t buckle under pressure.

entering the conference room with a professional demeanor, nobody batted an eye once you found a seat next to joe.

“so, here we are again.” your manager says, a new stack of papers in front of him.

“let’s not lollygag. why did neither one of you think that stepping forward with honesty was the better move to make?” one of the officials says.

“cut the ‘we are just friends’ shit too. it’s obviously not true.” your manager says.

“we were just about to contact you guys.” you admit.

“you sure about that? you looked pretty preoccupied last night.”

“i have a draft in my emails.” you jump at the opportunity to say.

“keep it. since we’ve been here once before and since we offered many follow-up meetings to avoid this exact moment, there will be consequences.” your manager says.

“sir, we are adults. we have free-will. we both have proved that we can keep our work lives at work and home life at home. we keep things professional around here, so what could possibly be wrong?” joe taunts.

“that’s why termination would be the go-to but due to previous knowledge, i am going to propose an offer of a thirty-day suspension.” your manager says.

“while active on a thirty-day suspension, you are to not step foot on the stadiums premises unless permission is granted and nothing before approval. you and mr. burrow here have represented a civil relationship and there is nothing more we ask for. we do recommend minimal contact the day of the game for focusing purposes.” an official says.

“i would also recommend an nda. either both parties can sign one or i could just print one on mr. burrow’s behalf.” joe’s agent says.

“that would be unnecessary, she is already under a contract.” your manager says.

“just for safety purposes. mr. burrow is a very private person and i would hate for anything to be released against his wishes.” he continues.

“no, she doesn’t need to sign an nda.” joe cuts in.

his agent is silent from here on.

once the respective papers were signed and you agreed that the thirty-day suspension was necessary and valid, you packed up your stuff and made your way back home.

you were sitting on the couch when a call from joe came through.

“i can’t believe we pulled that off.” he says.

“see, i told you i’d do whatever if it meant things would work out.”

“and i never doubted you once. thank you for sticking it out with me.”

SILENTLY LOSING MY MIND OVER UPLOADING MY FIRST PIECE OF WRITING!!! I HATE THIS!!

if you want to be added to a taglist, let me know!! <3

[ov6rheated]

worst behavior

summary: billie had a surprise for you before you went out.

warnings: oral r!receiving, strap-on, fingering, teasing, masturbation, mommy kink (lmk if i missed some)

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD!! sorry for taking so long to post, i’ve been really unmotivated. also, ive seen your requests and i’ll write them soon.

it was a friday night, and you had got home from a long day just a few hours ago. whenever you got home, you facetimed billie, but she never answered. it was bothering you but you just assumed she was busy.

after waking up from a small nap, she texted you. “busy rn baby. i’ll ttyl”

you hearted the message before getting ready to go out with some friends. after scanning your closet for thirty minutes, you picked a skin tight dress to wear. the dress made you think of billie because you knew that she loved this dress so much.

you did simple makeup and left your hair down, curling it. your friend was coming to pick you up and you check the time. you notice that you got ready too early. she was going to arrive at your place at nine o'clock, and it was still only eight o'clock.

after debating on how to kill time, you chose to catch up on a show. you constantly check your phone to see if billie texted you, but nothing. you check her location and see that she's driving. you had no idea where she was going, but you knew she'd text you after she reached her destination.

after 30 minutes, you heard your front door open, and you become startled. you thought someone was breaking in, and you stay quiet. you get up slowly and walk down the stairs, seeing Billie in the hallway. she's always had a key to your house just in case anything happens.

you stare at her and push her playfully before turning around and rolling your eyes at her. "gosh, billie. you didn't even tell me if you were coming over."

she was silent as she walked behind you. once you reached the bedroom, she closed the door, and you had no idea what was happening. you could feel her eyes on you, not sure how to react.

you gulp when you feel her body pressed against your back. she started kissing your neck and pulling your dress up your thighs. "b-billie..." you mutter. "hmm, baby?" her voice was like butter, and you knew exactly what this tone meant.

"you know i'm going out tonight. we can't." she chuckled once she heard you and shook her head.

"you're gonna have to text them and tell them you can't make it, mama. you're mine tonight. and gosh, this dress. it's stunning, but i wanna see what you look like without it." the longer she spoke, the wetter you got.

she kept kissing your neck and you reached for your phone, texting your friend. you told her that there was an emergency and you couldn't make it. you hated lying, but billie always came first.

she watched you text and she wouldn't stop smirking as you did. when you finally put the phone down, she smiled and said, "good girl."

she kept raising up your dress, swiping it off of you. she was teasing you, her movement soooo slow. “billie.”

she chuckles once she hears you and finally removed your dress, leaving you in your lace bra and thong. she lifted you up effortlessly and placed you on the bed, turning your body over.

billie just started scanning over your body, imagining how it would look in the next few minutes; all marked up and loved on.

she assaulted your neck first, moving her way down. eventually there was a trail of hickies down your stomach.

the entire time, you kept whimpering softly, and it only encouraged her more. you kept arching your back off of the mattress and kept craving more.

“beg.”

she could tell you needed more, but was nervous to ask. you became annoyed, and luckily, she couldn’t see your face as you laid back. you rolled your eyes and bit your lip, looking down at her. she looked back at you, tilting her head and smirking, trying to see how bad you wanted it.

“please, mommy.” she shook her head and chuckled.

“you can do better than that, mamas.” she mumbled.

you whined and threw your head back, biting your lip. “pleaseee, baby. i’ll be so good for you.”

“hmmm, that’s my girl.” you melted at her words, and you even nearly moaned.

she pressed her middle and ring finger against your clit through your thong, pulling a whimper out of you. she bit her lip as she searched for your expression, but you were laying back as she was on her knees. "look at me, mama."

you lift your head up, biting your lip as she looks at you. she finally pulls off your thong and sees how wet you are. she could smell your arousal, and it only turned her on more.

“fucks sake, y/n,” she says as she dips a finger in your heat.

your legs jump a little whenever you feel her finger effortlessly slide in. she was still teasing though, just keeping her finger there and looking.

“bills…” you whimper.

“nuh-uh. what do you call me, baby?”

“mommy… please.”

she leans forward and captures your clit in her mouth and sucks. her eyes roll back as you try to look down at her, and she makes eye contact with you. she added another finger inside of you and massaged you g-spot.

“b-baby. please, don’t stop.”

it was like she could read your body better than you could. she knew exactly how to bring you over the edge and make you see stars.

as she kept going, you swear that you were starting to see white. she was humming against your clit, stimulating you more and more.

you were moaning and whimpering so loud and you didn’t even notice that she was touching herself. you looked down and seen her eyes roll back. it only turned you on more and made you closer to your orgasm.

“mommy, i’m close,” you mutter.

she stops and looks up at you. “how bad do you want to cum, princess?”

“so bad baby.”

she leans down to kiss you and caresses your face before reaching under the bed to grab her strap-on. “don’t cum until i tell you to, okay?”

you nod, and she aligns her cock with your pussy. she moves slowly, teasing you. she knows you want it fast, but she couldn’t help but tease a little more. “tell me what you want, princess.”

“faster, please.”

she finally speeds up, and she watches your breasts bounce as she keeps going. you felt your orgasm coming already, clenching down on her cock to hold it in.

she could tell by how loud you were moaning that you were close. a smirk appeared on her face as she watched your face contort in pleasure. “billie, please. let me cum.”

she thrusts a few more times before letting you cum. “go ahead, princess.”

she loved when you were like this. she loved when you were on your worst behavior.

she watches you orgasm and smile at how pretty you looked. “my sweet girl,” she murmurs.

whenever you finally came down from your high, she took off her strap and cuddled next to you. she placed her hand on your waist, caressing your skin with her thumb.

the two of you sat there in silence as you both caught you both caught your breath. she finally broke the silence after a few minutes, checking up on you. “baby? you okay?”

“mhm,” you hum.

“you’re so pretty, baby.”

“thank you.” she could tell by your short answers that you were tired. she looked over at the time, noticing that it was 11 o’clock.

“go to sleep, princess.” she kisses your cheek before tucking you in and turning off the light.

“okay, baby.”

[starsinthesky5]

dating joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader

description: little things about you and joe’s relationship 💗💗

a/n: this was a request I got! (request can be found here) i haven’t tried this before so im feeling it out :) the fact that it took me the whole week to write this is wild 😭 let me know if you guys like this or have any thoughts, ideas, whatever 💗

side note- almost had a heart attack because i thought none of this saved. this is what i get for writing directly in my tumblr drafts and not google docs first like usual

word count: 4.1 k

warnings: allusions to smut

-----------------------------------------------------

he’s a total gentleman. he's always opening your doors for you, carrying your bags, and you never have to ask him to. he just does it on his own, it was a sweet unspoken rule. he says that he knows you’re incredibly capable of doing things on your own and he loves that about you, but he says you always deserve ‘the princess treatment’ and no princess should ever break a sweat or struggle with anything 

he’s always holding your hand when you two are walking together. he hated when you couldn't hold hands because it made him feel far away from you (even if you were right next to him). holding your soft hand, running his thumb along your soft skin, and having your fingers intertwined was the best feeling in the world for joe 

when you're out on the streets, he's always watching out for anything you might step on or walk into such as puddles, uneven surfaces, or grates where your heel may get caught in. you joked that he was like your personal bodyguard, and he took on that role and title proudly. he said that guarding you was a more important job than being a quarterback for a billion-dollar franchise--that's how much he cared for you 

he wasn’t a big touchy-feely guy, but with you? with you it was a completely different story. his hands were always on you, his lips were always pressing sweet kisses around some part of your body, and he was so addicted to you. when he was with you, touching you was all he could think about and when he wasn't with you, he was always fantasizing about the next time he was 

he loves kissing your neck. sometimes a little roughly to leave a few pretty marks so 'everyone knew who you belonged to' but sometimes very sweetly & gently. so many sweet kisses. his soft lips left no part of your body untouched. he was so soft around you compared to the way he was around friends, his teammates, and family. the second it was just the two of you, he became a little baby--your little baby--and was the most precious thing on the planet

you two could be watching a movie on the couch and somehow his head would end up in the crook of your neck, all his focus on kissing your soft skin instead of what was happening on the TV screen 

this would happen when you were trying to finish up some stuff for work too. you would be typing away on your computer and he'd be sitting next to you, so bored and in need of attention from you. he'd start pressing light kisses around your collarbone, and then move up your neck, his kisses getting rougher and more alluring. next thing you knew, your computer was on the floor along with a pile of both your clothes 

he loves it when you thread your fingers through his soft hair while he lays his head on your chest, which he also loves. he loved laying his head on your chest because something about hearing your heartbeat made him feel safe, feel at peace. his arms always wrapped around your middle and his cheek was always squished against your breasts. he just adored it--maybe even for a few other reasons too ;). seeing him like that after a hard day at practice or after a rigorous workout brought you so much satisfaction. you made him feel like that. he didn't need anything else to make him feel like that, just you. it was that simple 

he’s always giving you his full attention when you’re talking. it’s like you’re the only person in the room for him. you two could be on the sidelines of paycor right before kickoff, surrounded by thousands of fans and football players, but you’re the only person he’d be able to see and hear. the rest of the world disappears around him whenever he hears your pretty voice 

your family love love loves joe. 

initially, when you told them you were seeing someone and that someone was joe burrow, they didn’t believe you. they couldn’t believe that you bagged a football player, specifically the star quarterback, and you were slightly offended for a second but their initial reaction made the look on their faces even more enjoyable when you brought joe to your hometown for the first time with no warning 

joe was so nervous to meet your family, it was honestly so cute. he was so quiet and trying to keep calm the entire way to your parents' house. joe was the most confidant person and the most shy person you knew. the cool guy persona he sported every game day was there, but so was the adorable little shy baby that got in his head about things sometimes. he just wanted to be perfect for your family, wanted to show that he was the right man for their perfect & special daughter

your family loved him as soon as they saw him carefully help you out of his car, holding your hand tightly, and leading you to the front door all while making sure that your dress wasn't showing too much because of how intense the wind was that day. he was an absolute gentleman for you, and they loved that

he hit it off with your family within 10 minutes of being at your house, it was insane. he had so much in common with your siblings and even had great conversations with your parents. there was no silence in the house that day because everything was just constantly flowing naturally

he was most anxious around your dad but all of his nerves disappeared once he called joe out to the porch for a drink after dinner. joe thought he was about to get the 'you're a professional athlete, I know how they roll and I'll make your life hell if you break my daughter's heart' talk, but it was the complete opposite. your dad told him how thankful he was to joe for being in your life, for putting that everlasting smile on your face, for making you feel loved in a way you never had been loved before. that's what joe needed to hear, that he was doing good with you. doing good for you 

he’s so respectful to your parents and even addressed them as ‘sir and ma’am’ for a good second. you tried to tell him it was alright to refer to them by their first names, but he felt awkward about it because of how much respect he had for them even though this was his first time meeting them

eventually, he started calling them by their first names. you could see that he was getting more and more comfortable around them and didn’t feel the need to hold up a super suave act. he could be himself around you and your family, they felt like home to him. you felt like home to him

joe's parents loved you as soon as they met you as well 

they were so thrilled that joe had a woman like you in his life. someone who showed him so much love, care, and support 

you weren't super nervous to meet them, mostly because he gave you no time to be. he knew that if he told you in advance that you were going to Athens, you'd freak the hell out. so that's why he told you about 30 minutes before you reached his parent's house. you figured that he was just taking you someplace like a park to go on a walk or something simple like that, not to meet his freaking parents 

joe loved that he could bring you home to his family. he loved that he could show you around Athens and experience all the things he did growing up but in a new light because you were with him

he brought you to his favorite spots to eat, his favorite places to go on walks, his favorite shops, and places he spent a lot of time while growing up. he even snuck you into the football stadium--his football stadium--at the high school one night. joe remembered feeling his heart explode at the sight of your beaming smile once you stepped onto the field and saw his name plastered around the stadium. you just felt so proud of him and your entire body showed that. that's the moment he knew he loved you

he said those three special words, those eight letters, to you first. it came out so nonchalantly one night like it was something that was meant to roll off his tongue that easily. hearing those three words come from his mouth for the first time felt so right, like the stars and planets aligned specifically for you both in this moment. 

the funny thing was, he said it as you guys were stargazing. you were lying on a big blanket in his backyard and watching the planets & stars together

you were looking up at the sky and there was a big smile on your face as you counted how many stars you could see. joe also had a big smile on his face, but not because of the stars. it was because of you. he was looking over at you, thinking about how he was genuinely the happiest he had ever been in his life at this moment, how things finally felt right in his life. it was all because of you

"the stars make me think about how infinite the universe is, but even with all that endless space, the thing I want most in the world is right here next to me. being with you makes everything else feel small, like all I need is right here," he said to you

and then he ended his sweet small speech with an adorable, sorta quiet because he felt nervous, 'i love you'

you felt your heart explode when you heard him say those three words. the same three words you wanted to say to him since the day you met. you had never loved someone like you loved joe, this was so special and you both knew it 

his house was so clean and organized, the exact opposite of what you thought it'd be like when you first came over. you thought it would be full-on bachelor pad, messy, boy vibes. but it really wasn't. it was clean, organized, well-decorated, and it stayed like that. it really felt like a man lived there, not a boy. and joe was a man all right, that was very clear 

joe loved to send you cheesy football puns. his personal favs were "you're the touchdown to my game-winning drive", "you've intercepted my heart and I'm not even mad about it", and "you're the MVP of my heart"

lots of late-night snack runs after prime-time games. it was honestly insane to you at first because you thought he'd want to get home ASAP, but he wanted his sweet treat--and he wasn't just talking about you ;)

he even brings you to practice sometimes. you loved to watch him from the sides, doing his thing and watching him in his element. he sometimes even through the ball back and forth with you before or after practice--always showing off a little to make you laugh

your form had definitely gotten better ever since you started throwing with him. you are learning from the best of the best

joe's closet is your closet. he loves it when you take his shirts and hoodies. you love how big his stuff is on you and also how everything smells just like him. it's even better when he's away and you're missing him. his scent is always on you no matter what

joe's always there for you whenever you come home from a hard day at work or are just having a shitty day in general. he's always there, holding you against his chest, letting you soak his shirt with your tears while he presses soft kisses on your forehead and listens to you vent about everything

he knows how hard you work, so it breaks his heart to see you crack under pressure or feel like you weren't doing enough. he gave the best advice and was the best listener, having him in your corner was the best thing that could've happened to you

it was also the best thing that could've happened to him. you were his escape from the pressure that the football life brought. his peace after all the chaos that transpired on the field. his calm within the storm

joe likes to get up early, like early early. he says that he likes to get the most out of the day, which is fair. but it's honestly so bad because you hate getting up early, but his adorable morning smile makes up for it. it's the first thing you're graced with when you get up

when he wakes up, you wake up (even if you feel like dying because it's so early). he always ends up laying his head on your chest as he presses kisses along your skin, your fingers lightly scratching his scalp at the same time. it's the best way to wake up in all honesty. in each other's embrace, all warm, cozy, and secure

he's so cute in the morning. his hair is all messy and he has this raspy voice that makes you want to pounce on him, even if it is still a little dark outside as the sun isn't even fully up. 

during the off-season, he made it a rule that he'd cook you breakfast at least twice a week. joe wasn't the best cook (he was learning) so his attempts at cooking breakfast were always so sweet to watch 

also because watching him cook breakfast half-naked was like personal porn for you. his tan, bare, muscular back was the star of the show

he'd attempt to make you french toast, pancakes, waffles, literally anything your heart desired. he got better each time he made you food, but also because he'd help you out whenever you made dinner so he picked up on a few skills 

it was pretty funny whenever he'd have breakfast fails. like the first time he tried to make french toast, he burnt them and one piece even caught on fire. it was so funny to watch him run around frantically trying to make sure he didn't burn the house down

he loved to help you out when you made dinner. he made himself your little sous chef, helping you out in any way he could. he'd turn on some music so you two danced around in the kitchen as you cooked together, it was something so simple but it brought you two so much joy

your favorite songs to dance around to together were disco by surf curse, my girl by the temptations, angeleyes by abba, heavenly by cigarettes after sex, apocalypse by cigarettes after sex, hunger by ross copperman, pretty boy by the neighbourhood, and lover by taylor swift

sometimes you were so caught up in dancing together that you completely forgot about the food on the stove. the dancing sometimes led to some other things, so naturally, you got distracted. you would end up ordering some chinese takeout and calling it a night whenever that happened 

joe loves kissing you. like a lot 

sure, he loves kissing spots around your body, but nothing could compare to the feeling he'd get when your lips were pressed against his

that man loves his sloppy, sexy, slow makeout sessions more than anything. noses brushing against each other, his hands wandering around your perfect body, tasting each other...it was so good. especially because 90% of the time they led to some other things ;)

joe was so careful with you in that sense. he always made sure you were alright before you two did anything. he never pressured you for anything, everything would be done on your terms 

he's too good in bed. like it's insane. he quite honestly takes your breath away. he can do it all. slow lovemaking & hair-pull worthy, sheet-gripping sex. the way he worshipped your body was truly something out of a fairytale. you'd lose track of time whenever you two got in bed like that, and it was honestly worth it. he was just so damn good. you wanted to stay like that with him as long as you could

he's a lowkey blanket hogger too. he wraps himself in a little burrito blanket, looking all cozy and soft while you stare at him with a straight-lipped face. buttt he caves and lets you into his little blanket burrito. it's so comfy, especially in the winter. the combined heat coming from his body and the blanket made you feel like you were in a soft cocoon 

joe loves it when you call him joey, J, burrito (a funny play on 'burrow'), or JB. you didn't really use his other nicknames such as shiesty, joe cool, or joe brr because it felt wrong. those were all football joe names. your nicknames for joe were just joe names 

he loved that he was just joe to you. he made sure when you first started dating, you got to know just joe. not Cincinnati Bengals star quarterback joe burrow. just joe

you always found joe doing the most normal things super hot and sexy. he could just be sitting on the couch and doing something on his iPad and you'd find yourself drooling (it was definitely because of that man spread that sent you into orbit)

bringing in bags of groceries out of your car, washing the dishes, putting away your laundry for you, cleaning up the kitchen. it was all so fucking hot. he was just so hot 

sometimes while he was doing these things, you'd have an epiphany. you'd realize that he was all yours. nobody else's, just yours. he'd laugh whenever he caught you like this. it was so enchanting to him how you'd randomly become hyperaware that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend 

you and joe love flowers so much. you always surprise him with random flower deliveries (especially after a loss) because you know his face will automatically light up once he sees the beautiful plants. he also scheduled weekly flower deliveries for you. a vase of flowers would be at your door every monday morning, the perfect way to start off the week

he loves to pamper you as well 

he's always buying you things without reason. clothes, jewelry, books, random little knick-knacks. he just loved to show how much he loved you in every shape and form possible

all of your daily jewelry was given to you by him. your two necklaces (one being a necklace with his initial), your 3 bracelets, your 4 rings (two on each hand, one being a promise ring), and your anklet which had 9 citrine orange gemstones in it along with multiple diamonds

proper date nights are a must in your relationship. even during the season, he made sure you had one night in the week where you two went out for dinner together. but you'd also have the best date nights at home

sometimes you just ended up building legos on the floor & watching a silly movie as a date night, but you two loved doing simple things like this. sometimes you'd just eat dinner outside in the backyard together as a date night. sometimes you'd just go on a night stroll together. simple things like that were special because it kept you two grounded. you didn't need to go out and drop $200 on some fancy dinner when you could have the same level of enjoyment by sitting on the floor, building a lego set from 'the office', and stuffing your faces with takeout. as long as you were together, you didn't really care what you did 

he never fails to tell you how amazing you are. those sweet nothings he'd whisper in your ear every night before bed were the things you craved the most in your previous relationships. just being told how much you brighten his world, how pretty you are, how easy it is to love you, and other things like that made your day. he never skipped out on telling you those things

you love hearing his laugh. whenever he laughs around you, he laughs with his whole body. it's such a sweet sound, a sound you wish you could hear forever

you were so obsessed with joe’s body. his thick thighs, large muscles, veiny hands, and gorgeous face. he was a literal greek god, it was so hard to believe this man was real. he was equally as obsessed with your body too, and he made sure to show you that almost every night ;) 

your friends love joe so much. they always call him your prince charming, the man who made all your dreams come true and the man who treats you like you're a real-life princess. they always tease you because of how down bad you act for him too. whenever you're with them and joe isn't there, they have to keep a tally of how many times you bring him up or say 'i miss joe'. they find it precious that you act that way for him 

when he first met your best friends over dinner, he was lowkey intimated by them. they're so protective over you, so they had this tough front on. the entire dinner was like a test for him, and he passed it with flying colors

they watched as he paid such close attention to everything you said, how he was holding your hand under the table, how he subtly checked in on you to see if you were comfortable, offering his jacket in case you were cold, stayed off his phone the entire time, his nonchalant & genuine compliments towards you, making sure you were included in all the conversations, actively engaging with your friends and making a genuine effort to get to know them, his gentle touches like placing his arm around you or lightly rubbing your arm, how he spoke so highly of you, how he took care of the small things such as filling your water glass without you even having to ask, the little inside jokes you two had, and noticing and responding to your little signals when you got anxious that only your friends knew about until now

after the dinner, your girls pulled you over and they had the biggest smiles on their faces. they told you to send them a save-the-date invite ASAP because they knew you were going to marry that man. they saw the way he acted around you and that alone was enough to seal the deal 

his friends loved you too. they instantly noticed how perfectly you matched joe's vibe, how happy you made him, and how you were practically made for one another. they called you two peanut butter & jelly; you went together so well

game days were always so fun for you two

you grew up in a football family so you were already a big football girl before you even met joe. being a football players girlfriend was written in the stars for you 

joe didn't believe you initially when you mentioned to him how much you loved football. he thought you were just saying that to impress him. he found out the hard way that you were being serious 

you two were watching a MNF game (prior to actually becoming boyfriend/girlfriend) and your (then) favorite team was playing against one of their longtime rivals. joe's jaw was on the floor the entire game because of how you were screaming at the tv, jumping onto your feet at every bullshit flag & call, and so locked in on everything that was going on 

your keenness towards football made your relationship even more exciting. you'd get to watch your boyfriend do what he loved, which happened to be one of your favorite things in the world

seeing you in his suite every week gave him an extra boost. he knew you were watching him and he wanted to make you proud & happy at all times 

he also loved to see your game-day outfits. seeing his name, his number, his colors all around your body did some unspeakable things to him. sometimes he wondered how fast it would take for anyone to notice he was missing. the storage closet seemed like the prime quickie spot on game days ;) 

you had a routine before kickoff too. you'd go down to the sidelines before the start of the game to give joe a little pep-talk and it always ended with a passionate kiss and little handshake you two made up on your first date (a sort of good luck manifestation tactic). at the end of the game, win or loss, you'd be waiting in the tunnel to give him his post-game kiss and a singular rose (as you know, he loves getting flowers)

the orange rose you gave him after the 2021 AFC championship game (the super-bowl sending game) sits in his office. he got it pressed and plated by a professional, a way to preserve the special memory that the flower held 

the love you two shared was truly something that only came around once every few lifetimes. it was so special, so rare, so exciting 

“every time I look at you, I feel like I’m falling in love all over again. the way you laugh, the way you move, even the way you think—it’s all so beautiful to me. i could spend the rest of my life just watching you be yourself and never get tired of it. i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re always on my mind, like a song stuck on repeat. every time I’m with you, it feels like the world fades away, and all I can see, hear, and feel is you. i’m completely mesmerized with everything about you," he said to you

--The End--

[maskedbyghost]

When Angels Fall

Hello, my lovely people! Ready for some soul-crushing angst? No? Too bad—send your tears via mail. Love you! Also, all blame should be directed to the anon who requested this. Okay, thanks, bye!

Simon never believed in angels.

The world was too cruel, too ugly for something as pure as that. Wings were clipped, halos were tarnished, and heaven felt like a myth told to children who hadn't yet seen the things he had. He knew better than to believe in fairytales.

And then he met you.

You were 141’s guardian in the sky, an airman with a reputation that preceded you. Your callsign was Halo. It fit, he supposed, given how you watched over them, weaving through the air with a precision that impessed him since the very beginning he met you.

Your voice, crackled through his comms during every mission, would guide them out of hell and back home. You kept them safe, and God, if you weren’t the calmest person he’d ever known.

But it wasn’t just the security you brought that got under his skin. It was you—your voice, your laugh, the way you could turn a routine check-in into something that made him feel less like a ghost and more like a man.

“Wheels up in ten, boys,” you’d say, and Simon would find himself smiling under his mask, comforted by just the sound of you.

He didn’t know how it happened—how you managed to slip past the walls he had spent years building. Maybe it was the way you read him like an open book, saw through his hard exterior, or how you never once pushed him for more than he could give. Maybe it was because you still spoke to him like he was worth saving despite all the blood on his hands.

He didn’t know how, but he fell. Hard.

And the most terrifying part? You caught him.

It started small. You’d read off mission briefings in that smooth, calm voice of yours, and he’d listen like it was scripture. Then, you’d tease him about his accent and call him ‘big guy’ over the radio just to hear his exasperated huff. He didn’t even mind—not really. He’d never admit it, but he liked it. He liked you.

And at some point, it wasn’t enough to hear you only on missions.

One night, after a brutal mission, he found himself restless, the heavy burden of the battlefield clinging to him. He didn’t think—just grabbed his radio and switched to your private frequency.

“You up?” His voice was rough, and you immediately knew that he wasn’t okay.

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle could be heard coming from your side. “Simon Riley, calling me just to talk? I must be dreaming.”

He should’ve played it off and made some excuse about mission reports or logistics, but instead, he said, “Can’t sleep.”

A moment of silence passed, and then you said, “Want me to read to you?”

He frowned. “What, like a bedtime story?”

“Exactly like a bedtime story.”

He should’ve said no. Should’ve shut off his radio and suffered through another sleepless night like he always did. But he didn’t.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, alright.”

And so you did. Some book you had lying around, something about stars and the vast, endless sky. He barely remembered the words—just the sound of your voice, soft and lulling—until sleep finally took him.

After that, it became a habit. Whenever the weight of the world became too much, he’d reach for his radio, and you’d be there, voice soft in his ear, pulling him back from the darkness in a way nothing else could.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t alone.

But, he should’ve known happiness like this wouldn’t last.

The mission was supposed to be routine. Get in, retrieve intel, and get out. Simple. Clean.

It wasn’t.

Everything went to hell fast. Some kind of ambush, a miscalculation on their part, and the enemy waiting for them like they knew they were coming. The ground team was pinned and cut off from their extraction point, and Ghost could hear the tension in your voice as you called for support.

“Hang tight, I’m coming in,” you promised, your aircraft screaming through the sky.

He had no doubt you would. You always did.

You swooped in, raining fire from above, giving them enough cover to push forward. For a moment, it worked. For a moment, he thought they might actually make it.

Then the missile hit.

The explosion was deafening—a violent burst of flame and metal as your aircraft took a direct hit. Ghost felt it like a punch to the gut, his heart lurching into his throat as your voice crackled through his comms.

“Mayday, mayday! I’m hit—controls are—fuck—”

The world slowed.

He could hear Gaz yelling, could see Soap moving, but all he could focus on was your voice, filled with panic and your breathing ragged as you tried—tried so hard—to stabilize.

“Ghost—”

And he knew. He fucking knew.

“Eject,” he ordered, his voice steady despite his whole body shaking from the shock. “Now.”

“I—”

A choked sound. Static.

And then—

Silence.

They found the wreckage hours later.

What was left of it actually.

The ground was scorched, metal twisted and blackened, and the smell of burning fuel filled the air around them. There was no body, just fragments of what had once been your aircraft, pieces of you scattered like shattered glass.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t move. Just stared at the wreckage, fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms.

Price placed a hand on his shoulder and murmured something meant to comfort. He barely heard it.

All he could hear was your last transmission, looping in his mind like a broken record. Your voice—his anchor, his safe place—reduced to a desperate cry for help he couldn’t answer.

That night, for the first time in years, he reached for his radio and switched to your private frequency.

Static.

He closed his eyes, gripping the radio so tightly it trembled in his hands. He waited, hoping—praying—that somehow, against all logic, you’d answer.

But you didn’t.

You never would again.

And Simon never believed in angels.

Not until he lost one.

-------------------------------------------

gonna go hide now.

@daydreamerwoah

[verstappen-cult]

gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!

THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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[meadowfics]

carebear

berlin (song jung-ho) x f!younger!reader

based off of this request here for fine shyt

warnings: reader is between 20-23 and berlin is his canon age, 41. this is a care bear if you do not know what a 'carebear' is

when you first joined the team, berlin was nothing more than a distant authority figure that you've happened to come across.

he kept to himself, barked orders with that effortless charm of his, and never really acknowledged you beyond what was necessary. you didn’t mind.

he was intimidating, older, too refined in ways that made you feel like you didn’t belong in the same world as him.

then, one day, he decided to teach you how to shoot a gun when you've revealed to the group that you've never shot one.

throughout your crimes, you used your hands and your many knifes. never a gun.

“you’ll need it,” berlin had said simply, handing you the weapon with that unreadable expression of his.

“it’s better to learn from me than to get yourself killed fumbling with it.”

so, you learned and somewhere between those lessons, between his patient instructions and your stubborn determination... you got closer.

late-night talks became a thing. when the others were asleep or too distracted with their own conversations, you and berlin would find yourselves sitting together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

he never said too much about his past, always skimming over the details with vague answers, but you could tell.

you could tell there was something there, something dark and unspoken that lingered beneath his carefully crafted exterior.

so one night, as a joke, you handed him your stuffed animal that you brought inside of the mint with you.

it is a blue care bear you had since childhood, a gift from a family member who had long passed.

“here,” you had said, grinning, “for emotional support.”

berlin had scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t give it back right away.

instead, he held it, staring at it for a long moment before murmuring, “i never had a childhood.”

it slipped out, just like that.

suddenly, the joke wasn’t so funny anymore.

so, you left it with him.

“well, I guess it’s yours now,” you had told him, voice softer than usual, “i think you need it more than me.”

he didn’t argue.

he didn’t say anything at all, just gave you a look that you couldn’t quite place before walking away with the bear still in his hands.

a day later, the moment the care bear was spotted on berlin’s bed spot, the chaos began.

“wait, wait—what the fuck?” tokyo’s voice rang out first, eyes wide as she pointed at the small, blue bear resting on berlin’s pillow.

“is that—”

“no fucking way,” rio laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“that’s cairo’s bear.”

“no it can’t be,” nairobi chimed in, folding her arms.

“cairo would never give that away. it’s their first ever stuffed animal. it’s, like, sacred to them.”

moscow, ever the calm one, eyed berlin with suspicion.

“so, what, you stole it?”

denver, brows raised, looked between the bear and berlin like he couldn’t decide if this was hilarious or horrifying.

“man, cairo’s gonna kill you.”

before anyone could escalate things further, you walked in.

“what’s going on?” you asked, noticing how everyone suddenly turned to stare at you like you were holding the key to some great mystery.

nairobi wasted no time.

“cairo, did you give berlin your care bear?”

berlin, standing beside his bed, merely watched you, waiting for your reaction.

you blinked.

“yeah. why?”

silence.

tokyo was the first to break it.

“you did what?”

“why the hell would you give it to him?” denver added, “that thing was, like, your most prized possession.”

you glanced at berlin, finding him watching you closely, his expression unreadable as always, “because he needed it.”

that was all you said because to you, it was simple.

to berlin, it wasn’t.

for the first time in years, maybe in his entire life, he felt cared for in a way that had nothing to do with power or control. you had given him something that meant the world to you, not out of obligation, not out of manipulation, but because you wanted to. you saw something in him that even he struggled to see in himself.

suddenly, all those strange, unfamiliar feelings he had about you made sense.

he wasn’t just fond of you.

he was in love with you and things changed after that.

it was subtle at first. berlin was softer with you, more attentive in ways that the others barely noticed but you felt every second of the day.

he started lingering when you talked, his fingers brushing against yours when he handed you something, his voice quieter when he spoke to you.

he started looking at you differently.

eventually, in the quiet moments between the chaos inside of the mint, he kissed you.

the kiss slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

and for once, maybe he did.

the others are occupied, discussing strategy, bickering over details, but you and berlin find yourselves alone in one of the back rooms of the mint.

the dim light casts shadows over his sharp features, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes as he looks at you.

“you’re tense,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“of course i’m tense. we’re in the middle of one of the biggest heists, and oslo dying didn't make that feeling easier...”

“ah, but you hide it well,” he says, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“better than the others, at least.”

berlin's voice is lower than usual, softer. there’s something different in his posture, something deliberate about the way he closes the distance between you.

the older man's hand reaches out, tracing the back of his fingers along your jaw, barely touching, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“berlin,” you start, but the way he looks at you, as if you’re something he’s trying to memorize, steals whatever else you were going to say.

he tilts his head slightly, studying you, before murmuring, “tell me if you don’t want this.”

you don’t hesitate.

instead, you close the space between you, fingers tangling in the collar of his pink suit (that matches yours) as you pull him down to you.

berlin's lips meet yours slowly at first, testing, but the moment he feels you melt into it, his control snaps.

one hand cups the side of your face, fingers threading into your hair, while the other finds your waist, tugging you flush against him. he kisses like he does everything else...with intention, with precision, like he’s savoring every second.

you kiss him back just as fiercely, matching him beat for beat, pressing up on your toes to get closer, to feel more. berlin's hand tightens on your waist, grounding you, claiming you.

when you part for air, he doesn’t let you go, his forehead resting against yours and your nose touching his, his breath fanning across your lips.

“cairo,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, raw in a way he never lets the others hear, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

you smirk, still breathless. “good. that makes two of us.”

the way berlin looked at you, with that smirk of his... of course you leaned back in without hesitation, hands gripping the lapels of his suit as you press your lips against his again, deeper this time.

berlin meets you with the same hunger, his fingers tightening at your waist, sure to leave bruises as he is pulling you flush against him.

the kiss is slow but consuming, his lips moving against yours with practiced ease, like he’s unraveling you one touch at a time.

the large hand of his slides up your back, his fingers tracing along your spine, sending a shiver through you. the warmth of his palm settles at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head, deepening the kiss.

he kisses like he owns you, like he’s memorizing the shape of your lips, the way you sigh softly into his mouth when he bites gently at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.

berlin's other hand drifts lower, gripping your hip, steadying you as he walks you back a step until your spine presses against the wall.

the shift only makes the kiss more urgent, your bodies molded together as he explores your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue.

you feel the way his breath hitches when you slide your hands up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit, holding him there like you never want to let go.

he moves like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s taking his time, even as the tension between you coils tighter.

the way he kisses you... thorough, possessive, like he’s letting himself lose control for the first time, makes your heart pound in your chest.

berlin's lips leave yours only to ghost over your jaw, trailing soft, heated kisses along the column of your neck, before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

the man's breathing is now uneven, his pupils blown wide with something unreadable, but he doesn’t step away. instead, his forehead rests against yours, and neither of you move, caught in the heavy silence of everything.

the next day:

inside of the mint, things were intense. you finally got the see the inspector face to face, where she wanted to make sure all of the hostages were okay.

after the whole thing, berlin always made sure you were taken care of.

if there was ever a moment of downtime, he would bring you water, insist you eat, remind you to take breaks even when you insisted you were fine. berlin's way of caring was subtle, but you could feel it.

when the professor sent orders, berlin always made sure you weren’t in the line of fire from his brother, always keeping an eye on you from across the room. you never were, since you were actually a favorite of the professors.

“you did well today,” berlin came up to you, voice softer than the others ever got to hear.

“so did you,” you’d reply, watching the way his face eased when he was alone with you.

sometimes, when the nights stretched long, and the weight of the heist pressed against your shoulders, berlin would let you lean against him, his arm a steady weight around you.

“you know,” he murmured once, as you rested your head against him, “i never thought i’d meet someone like you in a place like this.”

you tilted your head up to look at him.

“what the hell does that mean?”

all he did was look air you, before turning his head away with that smile of his.

you smiled, knowing that berlin is not known for vocalizing his romantic feelings.

suddenly, you lift your head, murmuring, “oh, wait, i forgot something.”

berlin watches as you stand, stretching slightly before stepping away, disappearing into the adjoining room.

when you return, the small blue care bear is cradled in your hands, the same one you had given him days ago.

you don’t say anything, just press it against his chest before climbing onto his lap, settling against him with ease.

berlin doesn’t argue, doesn’t question it.

instead, he lets you tuck yourself into him, his arms wrapping around you as you bury your face against his shoulder, already beginning to drift.

the older man's fingers move lazily over your back, soothing, grounding, as your breathing evens out, sleep claiming you in the safety of his embrace.

he stays awake for a while, watching you, taking in the way your lashes rest against your cheek, the way your fingers are curled around the bear as if it’s second nature.

there’s something strangely soft about the whole moment, something he’s not used to...something he never thought he’d want. here you are, trusting him enough to fall asleep in his arms, giving him a piece of yourself without hesitation.

the weight of that realization settles in his chest, heavy yet welcome.

eventually, he exhales slowly, shifts slightly, and lets his eyes close, deciding, just this once, to rest inside of the mint.

masterlist

[prosypepper]

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

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

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

word count: 1.9k

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

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

you can find part two here

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s not like you’d leave him, anyway.

“i’ve been dating her for a few months now,” satoru tells you, his voice no longer sweet or caring, just plainly spitting out the words you didn’t want to hear from him, ever. the tone in his voice upsets you even greater, he doesn’t even try to deny it, which causes an even greater pain to expand inside of you.

satoru’s new indifference to your feelings hurts a lot more than you’d ever imagined. you tried to psych yourself up, telling yourself that it was okay, you’d be happy if he just lied to you about the whole situation and you’d never bring it up again. his honesty is excruciating, it causes your heart to finally shatter into a million pieces when he confesses everything so guilt-free.

“why…?” you whimper, still unable to gain any of the forged confidence you had for weeks before to look him in the eyes again. you couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with over time, because you knew all they’d do is glare back at you unimpressed.

“well,” satoru starts, “what did you expect? this whole marriage was a fluke, anyway,” he mutters, still too honest for you to be able to feel any comfort in his words.

satoru doesn’t care, though, he never really cared, it’s all so agonizingly obvious to you now.

what did you expect?

you knew what you expected from this marriage, you treated satoru with the utmost care, even if it was a situation you were both forced into. you expected him to stay true to his vows, to be there in all the rough patches, and he was, only until it comes to your attention he wasn’t.

the sweet, considerate, thoughtful husband you once knew disappeared in the matter of a few minutes. all that remained of him now was a hard shell of what he was.

you decide to not reply to satoru anymore, to save yourself from anymore heartbreak – as if you had any left for him to smash into a billion pieces. the only actions you take are to curl up into an even smaller ball and allow the flood gates to open – you begin to coat the soft sheets in your salty tears. satoru only groans at your crying, like it was such a burden he broke your heart, as if he’s not the one to blame for everything going downhill.

the bed sinks in as satoru stands up, sighing. his footsteps shuffle behind you, you hear his keys jingle and his shoes scuff against the floor as he puts them on. you see him walk over to your dresser – the one he made for you with a huge mirror years ago – and check his reflection to fix his hair. soon after, he walks over to you and plants a meaningless kiss to your temple.

“i’m going to go see my girlfriend now,” the utterance of the word “girlfriend” makes you squeeze your eyes shut, “if you want a divorce, let me know so i can get a lawyer.”

satoru walks away and grabs his coat on the dresser, giving himself another good look in the mirror before walking over to the bedroom door.

“bye, honey.”

he leaves behind a broken wife, who’s too beautiful inside and out for her own good. he knows you won’t really leave him; the suggestion of a divorce was to only get a reaction out of you, he was bored the instant you had no rebuttal.

you only continue to cry into the night, falling asleep alone, the only thing to accompany you is the fact your marriage was a lie. satoru will come back, but things will never be the same.

[vonlycsnn]

✧ — PICTURE PERFECT

~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.

SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.

- cw/tw: none.

- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.

Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work. 

You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.

Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.

Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?

—

"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"Just give them a call. Trust me."

—

And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected. 

You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one. 

Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means. 

Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.

Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.

And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.

To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.

As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.

—

"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.

—

Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.

"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.

But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.

Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.

But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.

Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.

You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.

"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"

You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.

After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.

—

Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.

You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.

"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.

"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.

"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.

You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.

After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.

Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.

"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."

The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.

"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.

There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.

"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."

[heliosunny]

Hi, I enjoy reading your stories! For the request, can I please have yandere Robin x reader?

MYSTERY PLANT

Yandere!Robin x Reader

You never expected much from a simple sapling. The tiny Robin Pear tree had been left abandoned near a market stall, its leaves trembling in the wind as if pleading for someone to take it home. You had always been good at nurturing fragile things, so taking it in felt natural.

Days passed, then weeks. The tree flourished under your care, its thin branches stretching toward the sun, leaves unfurling in vibrant green. Then, one evening, beneath a moonlit sky, something impossible happened.

A petal drifted down from the tree's blossoms, shimmering as it landed in your palm. A sweet voice whispered through the room.

"You’ve taken such good care of me… Now, let me return the favor."

The branches trembled, then split apart with a shudder. A gust of wind filled the room, carrying a floral scent that made your head spin. And then, from the heart of the tree, she emerged.

She was breathtaking. Ethereal liliac-silver hair cascaded down her waist, curling slightly at the ends, a halo-like ornament resting atop her head. Pale wings, resembling those of a celestial songbird. Her teal eyes, brimming with warmth, met yours, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"Robin." The name left your lips instinctively, as if you'd always known her.

Her smile widened. "Yes, and you, Y/n… you are mine."

From the moment she arrived, Robin has been following you around. She hummed melodies as she watched you sleep, brushed her fingers through your hair when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

"I bloomed for you" she whispered one evening, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace "You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?"

At first, you weren’t sure how to adjust. But she made it easy. Despite her otherworldly presence, she was warm, affectionate, and endlessly kind—to everyone.

In the marketplace, she became a sensation overnight. With a gentle smile and a soothing presence, she helped merchants arrange their goods, guided lost children back to their parents, and sang in the town square, her voice drawing in crowds like a spell.

"Miss Robin, your voice is truly a gift!" one elderly woman praised.

"A gift meant to be shared" Robin replied, bowing gracefully.

And share she did. Her singing eased tensions, made quarrels dissolve into laughter, and even though she didn’t say it outright—influenced dreams. She once mentioned it casually, over breakfast, as if it wasn’t an insanely terrifying ability.

"I see glimpses of their dreams sometimes" she admitted, twirling a spoon in her tea. "A little adjustment here, a comforting presence there… it helps people wake up happier."

You nearly choked. "Wait—you’re controlling dreams?!"

Robin giggled, tilting her head. "Control? No, no, of course not. That sounds so… forceful. I simply guide."

"You have nightmares sometimes, don’t you?" she asked, voice softer. "I could make them go away."

You hesitated. The idea of her wandering into your mind while you slept should have been unsettling. But… when she smiled at you like that, when her voice curled around your ears like a lullaby, it became harder and harder to think of anything other than her.

The incident happened at the market.

A local vendor, a kind, older man who sold fresh fruit, was being harassed by a group of thugs. They knocked over crates, laughing as apples and pears rolled across the dirt.

"Pay up, old man. Don’t think we forgot your debt."

Robin was too far away, speaking with a group of women who had begged for one more song. So you did what any decent person would do.

You stepped in.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

The leader sneered. "Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

You weren’t exactly intimidating, but you held your ground. "Just walk away."

For a second, it seemed like they might. Then, one of them used a knife aimed towards you. You felt blood on your arm. The fruit vendor shouted in alarm.

But then—

A melody cut through the chaos.

"Oh dear," Robin’s voice floated through the air, lilting and amused. "It seems I’ve come at the perfect time."

The thugs froze. Their eyes glazed over as the sound of her song wrapped around them like vines, twisting through their minds, rooting itself deep into their thoughts.

You watched in stunned silence as their expressions slackened. The one who had cut you dropped his knife, eyes unfocused, lips trembling like he was on the verge of tears.

Robin stepped between you and them.

"Now," she purred, tilting her head, "I could tell you to leave, but where would the fun be in that?"

The melody shifted.

The men shuddered.

Without another word, they turned and ran.

"What…?" You blinked at their retreating figures, confused. "How did you—?"

"Are you alright?" Robin cut in as she turned to you. Her gaze flickered to your injured arm, tears are about to fall from her eyes.

"That was reckless of you..." she murmured, stepping closer.

You gave a sheepish laugh, wincing as you pressed a hand to your wound. "I just… I couldn’t stand by and do nothing."

"You’re too kind for your own good."

Her other hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek in a slow motion.

"You should leave these things to me," she whispered. "I’ll always keep you safe."

You smiled at her, relieved. "Thanks, Robin. I don’t know what you did, but… I’m glad you were here."

"Of course. I’ll always be here."

By the time you returned home, the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dusky purples and oranges. The weight of the day clung to your limbs, but somehow, having Robin beside you made everything feel lighter.

"You’re still bleeding, you know" she murmured, glancing at your arm as you stepped inside.

"I’ll clean it up in a bit" you reassured her.

Robin frowned, but didn’t push further. Instead, she turned toward the bathroom, stretching her arms above her head. "Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to freshen up."

You chuckled, watching as she disappeared behind the door.

The sound of water filled the quiet house as Robin bathed. You took the time to bandage your wound, then unpacked the things you had bought earlier—some vegetables, spices, and a small box of decorative hairpins. You had grabbed them on a whim, thinking they’d suit her.

By the time she emerged, steam curling from behind her, Robin looked more ethereal than ever. A towel was draped around her shoulders, her damp silver-blue hair cascading down in loose strands.

"Come here" you gestured, patting the seat in front of you.

Robin raised a brow but complied, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "What are you up to?"

"Your hair. It’s still wet." You reached for a cloth, gently running it through her locks, soaking up the moisture.

At first, she said nothing, only closed her eyes, letting you take care of her. The room was silent except for the soft sound of the towel brushing against her hair. You moved with careful fingers, untangling knots, smoothing out each strand.

"You’re so gentle" she murmured.

You huffed a laugh. "Is that surprising?"

"No. Just… nice."

When her hair was dry, you reached for the brush and slowly ran it through the silken strands, watching the way the light caught in them.

"You have really pretty hair, Robin."

Robin’s eyes fluttered open, tilting her head slightly to glance at you. "You think so?"

"Mhm." You set the brush down, reaching for the box of hairpins. "I, uh… got you these earlier. Thought they’d look nice on you."

Robin blinked in surprise as you opened the box, revealing delicate pins shaped like tiny birds and flowers. For a moment, she simply stared at them, then she let out a soft laughter.

"You’re too sweet, Y/n" she hummed, tilting her head. "Go on, then. Decorate me as you please."

You rolled your eyes at her playful tone but got to work. Carefully, you gathered sections of her hair, twisting them into an elegant half-up style, securing them with the pins. When you were done, you sat back, admiring your work.

"Beautiful."

Robin turned to you, smiling. "Why, thank you."

After taking care of her hair, you moved to the kitchen, determined to cook something nice for her. Robin sat nearby, watching with quiet amusement as you chopped ingredients and stirred the pot.

"You don’t have to do all this for me, you know" she mused, resting her chin on her palm.

"I want to," you replied simply. "You’re always helping others. Let me take care of you for once."

Dinner was warm, filling, and cozy. You ate together, sharing small stories and laughter between bites. But the real fun came afterward.

Robin had been humming absentmindedly, some melody she had sung in the market earlier, when you decided—for some reason—that you wanted to return the favor.

"I should sing for you too" you declared.

Robin perked up immediately, teal eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh? Please, go on. I’d love to hear it."

You hesitated. Bad idea.

But it was too late. Robin was already watching, waiting, anticipation clear on her face.

So, you took a deep breath and started singing.

And—it was bad.

Off-key. Wobbly. Nowhere near the enchanting, ethereal quality of Robin’s voice. But you kept going, determined.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Robin burst into laughter.

"Oh, Y/n.." she gasped between giggles, clutching her stomach. "That was… truly something."

"Hey!" You huffed, throwing a napkin at her.

She caught it easily. "Don’t pout, don’t pout. It was adorable."

Despite her teasing, Robin’s laughter was light, happy. And as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through your chest at the sound.

As the night stretched on, the two of you stayed like that—talking, laughing, simply existing in each other’s presence.

Morning came. You stretched with a yawn, blinking sleepily as the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. Robin had already woken before you—unsurprising, given her boundless energy.

"Good morning, Y/n" her voice drifted in softly from the other room.

You followed the sound, finding her standing by the small greenhouse extension you had built—just a tiny, sunlit space where you kept the plants you’d been tending for years.

Robin looked ethereal, dressed in soft pastels, her hair still pinned up the way you had styled it the night before. A teacup rested in her delicate hands as she gazed at the plants.

"You take such good care of them"

You chuckled, stepping beside her. "Of course. I’ve had them for a while. Some of these I even grew from seedlings."

Robin’s teal eyes flickered toward you, a small smile gracing her lips. "I see… so they are very dear to you."

"Well, yeah." You knelt down, checking the soil of a small potted rosemary plant. "It’s rewarding, watching them grow. But I guess you’d understand that better than anyone."

Robin hummed, sipping her tea. "Yes… though, unlike them, I can love you back."

You blinked, glancing up at her.

Robin smiled, serene and elegant as always, tilting her head slightly. "Plants do not think. They do not feel. They merely exist, waiting for your touch, your care. But me…"

"I can cherish you properly."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "They’re just plants, Robin. I don’t love them like I love people."

Robin exhaled, her smile deepening as she reached out and plucked a small petal from one of the flowers. She twirled it between her fingers, watching it spin before it fluttered to the floor.

"Good" she whispered, almost to herself.

The rest of the day passed in quiet, domestic bliss. Robin helped you prepare lunch, her hands moving with practiced grace as she plated the dishes with an elegance that made even simple meals look like fine dining. She never ate much, but she always insisted on tasting anything you made.

"If you’ve prepared it, then it must be worth savoring" she would say, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Afterward, you found yourself lying on the couch, exhausted from the morning’s errands. Robin sat beside you, fingers combing gently through your hair.

"You should rest more" she murmured, her voice a delicate melody. "It’s no wonder you sleep so deeply."

"Mhm… guess I’m just used to staying busy" you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

"Then allow me to lull you."

The familiar hum of her voice. It wrapped around you like silk, smooth and sweet, threading through your consciousness, urging you into the embrace of sleep. You barely resisted. Robin continued stroking your hair, her touch light, careful.

"That’s right," she whispered, almost inaudible. "Just stay close to me. Only me."

You didn’t hear it. You had already slipped into dreams.

That evening, as you stepped back into the greenhouse to water the plants, something felt… off.

A few of the smaller plants were gone.

Not withered. Not rotting. Simply… missing, as if they had never been there at all. The soil remained undisturbed, no signs of pests or animals. The pots that once held their stems sat empty, eerily clean.

"Robin?" you called.

She stepped in behind you, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Yes?"

You gestured toward the empty pots. "Did you move some of the plants?"

Robin tilted her head, eyes wide with soft curiosity.

"Oh? Were they important?"

"It’s fine. Maybe I forgot I repotted them or something."

Robin smiled, reaching up to adjust one of the hairpins you had given her.

"Yes," she murmured, "perhaps that’s it."

The moment passed. The warmth returned.

And yet, as you continued through the night, laughing with her, cooking for her, letting her tease you over your terrible singing…

The missing plants lingered in the back of your mind.

Like something unseen, waiting in the dark.

That night, you saw her in your dream, you assumed it was simply coincidence.

You stood in a vast garden bathed in moonlight, flowers blooming in unfamiliar yet impossibly beautiful shapes. The air was thick with a gentle fragrance. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a melody drifted through the stillness.

She stood under a tree heavy with pale blossoms, her hair cascading down while the same hairpins you had gifted her glinting faintly in the glow.

"Oh," she smiled softly, folding her hands in front of her. "You’re here."

Her voice was as delicate as the night breeze, carrying a warmth that made your chest feel light.

"Robin?" you asked, blinking. "Why are you…?"

"It seems your mind has called for me."

"I don’t remember—"

"It does not matter. We are here now, and that is enough, is it not?"

Something about the way she said it made you nod, despite the lingering confusion.

She reached out then, brushing her fingers along your wrist. "You are tired. Let me grant you peace, my dear."

And before you could say anything else, the world melted into warmth.

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, heart pounding faintly in your chest. The dream had been so vivid. You could still feel the cool night air, the scent of flowers, the softness of Robin’s voice lingering at the edge of your senses.

"Good morning"

Robin was there, standing by the open window, bathed in morning light. She turned to you with a soft smile, as if she had been waiting for you to wake.

"You seemed to sleep quite deeply," she mused, approaching with measured grace. "I do hope you found rest."

You sat up, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah… I had a strange dream."

Robin tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her teal eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

You hesitated. The memory of the dream was still fresh, yet the more you thought about it, the more distant it seemed—like mist slipping through your fingers.

"It was just… a garden," you muttered. "And you were there."

"How lovely," she murmured. "Perhaps your heart simply longs for me, even in sleep."

She said it so lightly, so effortlessly, that you almost didn’t catch the weight of her words.

You laughed, brushing it off. "You make it sound so dramatic."

Robin chuckled, shaking her head. "I merely speak the truth."

"Regardless," she continued, "I am pleased. You should always rest knowing I am near."

The day passed with a familiar rhythm. Robin accompanied you to the market again, her presence as radiant as ever. She spoke with people kindly, helped an elderly woman carry her wares, and even hummed a tune that made a crying child calm almost instantly.

You watched as stall owners greeted her with warmth, their expressions softening the moment she smiled. It was as if she brought ease wherever she went—like a breeze that smoothed out the rough edges of the world.

But when you glanced at her, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you.

Not just fond. Something darker.

"Is something the matter?"

You shook your head. "No. Just… watching."

Robin’s lips curled slightly.

"Then please," she murmured, "watch only me."

[golden1u5t]

talk to me | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: making spencer talk to you while you jerk him off.

it's almost laughable at how easily you can turn his brain off, how easy you can make the boy that never stops talking forget how to form a coherent sentence. it didn't take much to get him all flustered like that, it could start off as something as simple as a glance in his direction or whispering something like "you look so handsome today, baby" in his ear. 

you've never dated a guy that got worked up as fast as spencer did but you definitely didn't mind, you loved how sensitive he was and you used that to your advantage as much as you could.

"please, i can't- mmph- i can't take anymore!" spencer cried out, his hands grasping at the sheets so hard his knuckles were going white and his back arching from the bed just slightly. tears streamed down his pink cheeks as a copious amount of precum spilled down his shaft. he wanted to look at you, see your hand wrapped around his cock, but he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to do so.

he had already came twice beforehand and you could hear it with how wet and loud it sounded each time you pumped your fist on his cock, the sound alone was enough to send him into another orgasm. 

"what did i say, spencer? keep talking or ill stop." you tilted your head and slowed your hand on his cock, earning yourself a pathetic whine from him. you gave him a moment to answer you before you pulled your hand away completely.

"no, please!" he let out a broken moan and opened his eyes, he reached for your hand to try and bring it back to his cock. that's all he cared about in that moment, getting you to touch him again. you raised your eyebrows at him and he quickly started to splutter out random facts again, not taking a breath between any of his words.

despite having said he couldn't take any more just moments earlier, the second you wrapped your hand around his cock again his hips were flexing up into your grasp. you tossed your leg over his and situated yourself on his thighs, leaning over his body just slightly.

spencer ended up on the subject of what happens to the brain during an orgasm, probably because he was close to having one himself and it was the only thing on his mind. you weren't really interested in what he was saying, you just wanted to hear him struggle to get his words out while you touched him. you started to move your hand faster and swipe your thumb over the sensitive tip, his hips started to jut up and moans became more frequent than words.

"spence-" you didn't even get the chance to give your warning since he interrupted you with a particularly loud moan and his cum spilling down your hand. he had thought that since you picked up the pace you were going to let him cum but he realized that definitely wasn't the case when he peeled his eyes open and saw you glaring at him.

"i'm sorry, i thought- m'sorry."

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

[rlimagi]

When Everything Else Becomes Too Much

Pairing: Bridget x reader

Requested?: Yes!

Genre: Angst and Fluff!

Warnings: sad Bridget

Note: Another Bridget one because I love her sm and many of you guys asked me to write more for her, so here you go<3

You and Bridget had always been by each other's side sine elementary school, she was your go to person for everything and you were hers. There was a bond of deep understanding and love between you and the princess of Wonderland.

Which was why you were the first person she came to after everything and everyone else became too much.

You were alone in your room, going through your Magical History notes since exam season was coming up when you heard someone knocking on your door.

Immediately, you knew it was Bridget because she was the only person in the whole school who knew how to knock. Most of your friends would barge in your room like it was their own.

You were immediately met with a bone crushing hug as soon as you opened the door. You breathed in the sweet smell of her candy scented perfume as you melted into the hug.

"Hey there, pretty girl." You muttered as you wrapped your arms around her waist. Bridget stayed quiet as she nuzzled into your neck. She was never that quiet so you knew that something bad must've happened to make her so upset.

"Alright, we can talk whenever you feel like talking...but we really should head inside instead of standing in the middle of the hallway." You waited until she nodded before locking her hands into yours and leading her into your room.

Bridget sighed as she settled into your soft blankets, basically drowning in your plushies as you tugged her in. “I know that you were planning to study all day and I'm sorry for distracting yo-”

"No, you'd never be a distraction." You reassured her with a soft smile before lifting her hands up and placed a gentle kiss on them. You enjoyed watching how her face reddened up whenever you do those simple but loving gestures.

“Now tell me what got you so upset, do I need to beat someone up?” You said jokingly, giving her a cheeky grin when she sent you a reprimanding look.

Bridget shook her head before pulling you onto the bed, yearning for the comfort of your body. “No, please don’t. I don’t want to see you in detention for me again.”

Bridget was the nicest person ever, even to people who never deserved her kindest. Especially Uliana and her gangs of delinquents, you had a long and violent history with them. Detention was your second home at that point but it didn’t matter because you would always win and you got the girl too.

“Alright, fine I won’t…though I would be up for it if you ever change your mind?” You chuckled as she leaned onto your shoulder, your arms wrapped around hers as she played with your hair.

A few minutes of silence passed before Bridget finally spoke up.

“Am I weak?” Bridget asked, her eyes bubbling up with tears as she looked at you with such vulnerable eyes. It made you upset knowing the exact person who made her felt like that, but you couldn’t get them yet because Bridget needed you the most.

“No, of course not. You’re the strongest person I know.” You gently used your hands to wipe her tears away as she sat in silence before looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“Really? Because everyone else seems to think that I’m a pushover…I try so hard to get them to like me, I offer them treats, I let them copy of my homework, and I never said anything when they talked about me behind my back…” Bridget wasn’t able to stop her tears from falling anymore, she was hurt by all the things people had said behind her back but she never wanted it to bother her.

“Yeah, they’re right. I’m a total pushover.”

Bridget would always say that we get more with sugar than salt but today, everything and everyone was too much. But you were the only one she felt like she could never get enough of.

“And what’s so bad about being a pushover? Your kindness is why you’re so strong because no matter how vile and mean people can get, you would never stoop to their level.” You said as you locked your hands into hers firmly. Looking at her gently as you continued to ramble on.

“Like Uliana for example, that girl can’t breathe without ruining someone’s day-“

Bridget watched as you continued on with so much passion, it made her heart flutter by the way you reassured her with so much love. It felt like time had slowed down for her because all she could focus on were your lips.

“You know how hard that is for me to not fight back when Uliana barks in my ear every time we see each other? But you’re so natural at it because you’re patient, forgiving, and extremely strong. That’s what I love about you and you should love yourself for that reason too.” You didn’t even notice that you’ve been talking for so long because you got so riled up just thinking about all the people that had done your girlfriend wrong.

“Thank you, baby. I really needed to hear that.” Bridget’s frown finally turned upside down and she pulled you into another hug but it was much softer this time, it made you feel like you’re on top of the world after seeing that she felt much better.

“Of course, anytime sweetheart.” You smiled as you gently kissed her on her forehead, running your hair through her soft pink hair.

Without another second wasted, Bridget wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled your face closer to hers. Your eyes were met with a pair of loving gaze as she leaned in, you’ve kissed Bridget many times but she never failed to make your heart flutter every single time.

When Bridget’s lips met yours, it felt like fireworks were blowing up inside of her body and all she could care about was the girl who made her feel that way.

[rekino2114]

Stella Hoshinari and Emma Magorobi fighting over who you love more, but you love both equally

Emma magorobi and stella hoshinari fighting over you

Pairing:Emma magorobi x gn reader x stella hoshinari

A/n:This was requested way before the prompts, but it gave me the idea for the 17th prompt on my list, so thanks. This is also my first dangan/fangan crossover post, and I'd like to do more (maybe something with chiaki and Cassidy or kirumi and akane) so let me know if you want to see more. Also, please request more of this I genuinely loved writing this so much

You'd never thought you'd attract the attention of a girl, much less two, much less two incredibly rich and famous Hollywood actresses that just so happened to go to the same school as you but life has its surprises

It all started simple enough. Both Emma and stella started to hang out with you. Sometimes, one of them would eat lunch in the cafeteria with you, and the other walked with you after school, you became good friends with the both of them.

Little did you know that they both were actually crushing on you super hard and were testing the water before starting to actually flirt with you, those compliments that you interpreted as them just being nice were actually the first signs of those crushes.

Eventually, they were ready to finally ask you out and had the same idea. They were going to invite you on the set of one of their movies

Stella was about to approach you to ask but saw you were already talking with Emma, so she raised her sunglasses and got closer

"It's gonna be great so what do you-"

"Oh pardon I wanted to talk with y/n"

"......well I already am so......"

"Wait a second I know you, aren't you that other actress from the other class?"

"The ULTIMATE actress, Emma magorobi pleasure to meet you"

"Oh well that's a coincidence, I'm the ultimate actress too, stella hoshinari, it's nice to meet you too"

"Really? I wasn't aware of another actress attending Hope's peak, you must have been in some pretty niche movies if I haven't heard of you"

[Even if she didn't show it, still keeping her smile on her face, stella was really pissed off by Emma's passive-aggressive remarks]

"Oh I wouldn't say so, but anyway I'm here to ask y/n something, so if you wouldn't mind moving"

"I wanted to ask them something too, if they wanted to come to the new set of a movie I'm in"

"Wow really? Me too"

"......I.....see, well I'm sure y/n would much rather come with me than see whatever second rate movie you're in"

"I disagree. In fact, I think they'd like mine way more"

"Then let's do a little bet, we both bring them on a date and whichever girl they like best gets to keep them"

"I like that, after all, a bit of competition in this industry never hurts"

[They shook each other's hands while you stood there confused]

"..........wait that was a date?"

During the movie date, both actresses tried their best to show you how great and attractive they were. both wearing very revealing clothes and showing off their assets at every occasion

They also made sure to show you how much better they were than the other, making comments about how "emma/stella could never, she's just way too confident in herself if she thinks she can bag a cutie like you~"

After the dates, you told them you needed more time to think about which one you liked more. They actually took that pretty well and gave you time to think

The actual reason that they took it so well was because they understood it just gave them more time to court you, a thing which became apparent when the following day you opened your doorstep to see a pile of roses with a note signed "Emma magorobi" with a stain of lipstick

And also when the next day you received a box of very expensive chocolates with a note this time signed "stella hoshinari" with a similar lipstick mark

And it was with this that the second phase of their fight for you started, absolutely spoiling you rotten with gifts

Both of them were rich and had absolutely no problem spending all of their money if it meant to get with you and beat her competitor

They brought you everything you could think and more, flowers, sweets, videogames, clothes, and way way more, they subtly asked your friends for what you wanted and the next day it suddenly appeared on your front door

One time you brought them to a store in hopes of getting them to hang out and maybe become friends.....it didn't help

"Hey y/n, do you like this shirt? I've seen it and I think it will look adorable on you"

"Not as adorable as these pants I picked out"

"Oh, I suppose they do look cute. You don't mind if I buy them too, right? After all, I doubt you can afford them"

"I can indeed, in fact I think I'll buy these pants and that shirt too for y/n"

"Well then I'll just have to buy this entire section, y/n does need spare after all"

"W-well than I'll buy the entire store!"

"........And I'll buy th-"

"...girls please stop"

While all of this was happening, you were thinking about them too, and which one you liked more. They were both incredibly beautiful and equally rich it seemed but not only that

You noticed how.....nice they both were, not only to you but also to the staff or just random people they met, they never declined autographs or selfies when they were recognized and thanked their fans with such sincerity in their voices, they were so sweet and kind, like the opposite of those stereotypical celebrities, and you couldn't deny that that was probably what made you love them equally

And one day you finally told them just that

"I'm sorry but I can’t choose between you two, you're both so beautiful and nice, I love both of you equally, I know it's dumb and so feel free to just leave me alone, I'd much rather stay alone than break the heart of one of you"

[They both started thinking for a while before Emma spoke]

"I understand so you like both of us equally?"

"Yeah"

"Well then the solution is simple, just date both of us"

"W-what!?"

"Oh I......never thought of that, that's actually a good idea"

"R-really? Like.....you'd be sharing me?"

"Yeah, since you love both of us the same, it shouldn't be a problem"

"B-but are you OK with that?"

"I suggested it so why wouldn't I?"

"As long as I get to stay with my darling I don't mind, plus getting to know Emma more will be nice, you can tell me all those tricks for the make-up"

"Oh I'd love to as long as you tell me where you found that super cute top"

".......I tried to make you friends this whole time and now you're doing that?"

"Well I guess competition gets the best of a girl sometimes"

"Yeah, but don't worry now that I know you love me just as much as stella i'm totally fine with her........just don't think I'm going to let you hog y/n all to yourself"

"Of course, the same goes for me"

"........wait a second so now I'm dating two girls......no wait....two incredibly hot and rich and famous and nice actresses.....AT THE SAME TIME"

"Oh is that what you think of us?"

"Darling, we're flattered, and you are absolutely right. You are dating both of us, so you'll get double the love"

"And the gifts and the kisses"

"Oh yeah speaking of"

[They both got closer and kissed both of your cheeks]

"I was planning on going to a cute Cafe tomorrow, wanna come too Emma?"

"As long as y/n is there absolutely"

"Then it's settled, see you tomorrow cutie~"

[They walked away as you stood there still in complete disbelief of what happened]

When they confirmed their relationship during an interview the news went absolutely wild that a random person was dating both of the ultimate actresses

[witchezandwonderz]

Ashes of Us

Pairing: Sihtric x Reader

Request: "I trusted you, but now I know: loyalty is a coin, and you spent yours without a second thought." (Pre-established relationship)

I was thinking possibly after his supposed betrayal in season 3. Where reader has no idea of the prompt and is caught up in the harsh words of their fight, she asks Sihtric not to leave - and is treated harshly by Uhtred’s other men when he does. Angst, hurt/comfort vibes when he returns??

Word Count: 4.3k

Tagged list: (If you want to be added or removed, please let me know.) @leftoverp1zza @somebody6468 @cheesesandwichsanto @diorpar @tessakate @miksmom-blog @whitedarkmoonflower @imagines-halfpai

The night hung painfully heavy over the camp, thick with the scent of damp earth and firewood. You took a deep breath as you scanned your surrounding areas through squinted eyes- for no particular reason at all. You simply just needed a moment alone to think about anything and everything. All around you, were groups of people speaking. Though, you could not quite make out what each group said, nor did you care.

You were exhausted. You owed your life to Uhtred, for he was the man who helped you when you needed it the most- he saved you, took you in and cared for you. He also introduced you to your soon to be husband, Sihtric. But regardless, you were exhausted. An ongoing subject that seemed to haunt all of you, as a unit, was pressing at your lives- as much as you tried to pretend that it wasn't happening, it absolutely was. This subject had one, simple name. Skade.

Skade was a poison, tarnishing your lives in front of your very eyes. Draining the life from you one by one, all while she held a proud grin firmly on her face, showing great pleasure from the torture and torment.

The negative and grave consequences of Skade's dark witch craft meant that a lot had happened in the past few months, and although Uhtred expressed his hatred for her constantly, his obsession became quite an obvious desire. You broached it with him one evening, when you had ensured that no one else was around to hear. He denied it, shrugged and rambled on about her curse upon him- which you, of course, understood. But the little part of your brain that did not, convinced you that he had grown extremely fond of the light haired woman. If you can even call her that.

You all despised her, and all held your own separate promises to kill her. There was, however, one particular person who seemed to hate Skade just a smidge more than all others. That person being Sihtric.

When Skade and her dark cloud of energy entered your lives, you and Sihtric had spoken about how you would never let it come between you. Sihtric had said that he knew of women such as her kind before, and that they would need to work quickly in order to rid her before she got a hold on Uhtred. Despite his accurate prediction, Skade was more powerful than they thought possible, and before they knew it, everything around them began to fall apart.

Sihtric had always been gentle and loving, with his sweet words and kind gestures. Yet, recently, he had been extremely distant and cold towards you. He had been off with everyone- but you took extreme offence for obvious reasons- why would he be off with you? All you have ever done is stand by him- you were supposed to be in this together.

You should speak to him, you knew that. Yet, here you were, sat on a log, searching your surroundings and pondering how the hell you ended up here. In this odd position.

A thick Irish accent in the form of your name rang throughout the surrounding area, you immediately rolled your eyes and let out a deep breath before extending your body out, raising your head to the sky as you did so.

"Someone fucking help me." You groaned, just wanting to be left alone for a little while longer- even if that time spent alone consisted of an existential crisis.

Finan chuckled in amusement as he approached closer, he held his hands up in defence, "hey, don't shoot the messenger." He paused apprehensively, "Uhtred wants us-"

"wants us to meet him in the hall." You finished, in a mimicking, shockingly awful Irish accent. Finan nodded.

"Finan, I do not know how much longer I can take this." You breathed, now showing severity, as opposed to your previous jests. Finan shrugged, "I agree with ya, but we serve Uhtred, so get up."

His words were blunt and simple, yet they were true. Finan had a way of making things seem simple, even if they were not.

He realised that you were not planning to leave the log, so leant down and grabbed your arm, in turn pulling you to your feet with force. You pushed him away and smoothed your clothes down with the palms of your hands.

Once entering the room, it was apparent that the conversation you were about to endure was going to be anything but light hearted; the tension seeped through the walls, objects, flooring, and most importantly- people. The room was at least warm however, and lit up from the many candles which were lit.

Sihtric stood next to Uhtred, yet he did not face him. He instead stood over a table, his body leant down and one hand gripping a stone corner firmly- almost as if he planned on launching it across the room, and the other held a large tankard. You tried your best to gain his eye contact, yet strangely, and uncharacteristically- he tried his best to avoid it completely. You scrunched your face up and made a mental note to pull him up on it later, in private.

"Y/N, where were you? I had to send Finan to find you." Uhtred's voiced echoed throughout the empty room. You huffed slightly, and slumped yourself on a near by chair.

"I was taking a moment to myself, lord, won't happen again." You replied, in a much more relaxed and sarcastic voice than you had intended. Uhtred's eyes widened slightly, but he did not address it any further. "You deserve to drink with us after your hard work recently, not sit on your own in the cold." His tone relaxed, and he held out a tankard full of ale for you to take. You gave Uhtred a small smile, before reaching out and accepting the drink. You sipped from the cup, and then nodded your head forward as a way of saying thank you.

"Recently?" A voice called out- an angry voice. Sihtric. All of those who sat near to the scene looked over at his sudden word. "Her hard work, recently? She has done nothing but serve you since she met you." His words carried anger, yet they were surprisingly calm and quiet considering. You could not believe or understand what he had said- although not completely offensive, you knew his words carried a slight malice that you could not shake. Additionally, he had barely looked at you in days, and now he is defending you for something that did not necessarily need defending.

You, again, searched for his eye contact. Yet, again, he did not oblige. You did not speak- interested as to how this would play out.

Uhtred scoffed, "I know this, Sihtric, what are you talking about?" He shook his head. Sihtric did not respond. Instead, he locked his jaw and looked down. Uhtred continued speaking, of plans, Skade and all thinks alike. You were half listening, and half thinking of all other things. You felt as though you had heard Uhtred say the same things over and over again. Nonetheless, you understood the reasoning behind the repeated points. You could not rest until you killed the witch- or more importantly, until you killed the curse. All of you.

In fact, you were so distracted by your thoughts that you had not realised the heated conversation that had ignited between Uhtred and Sihtric. That was until Sihtric leapt from his seat and towards Uhtred while shouting "I have fought for you!"

You watched in sheer confusion and disbelief as the scene unfolded in front of you, also watching as Finan tried to calm and reason with them both. It meant nothing though, it seemed that Sihtric had already made his mind up- without speaking to you.

Though, oddly, when Uhtred gave Sihtric the option of leaving or saying, he did not really respond. He instead slumped himself onto a table top, sipping ale and sulking like a child.

Naively, this gave you the impression that he would not leave, and was in fact being over dramatic. Much to your dismay- you were wrong.

That night, you sat apprehensively within your furs- wanting so desperately to go to sleep, but you could not let your head even brush a pillow without knowing exactly where Sihtric was. You waited for a long time, and very nearly shot up to put your shoes on and go on a hunt for him. You did not though, because the door swung open, and Sihtric shuffled inside.

He looked at you, for the first time in days. You could have sworn his breath hitched, and he looked sad.

You rushed towards him- not only desperate for sleep, but desperate for his love and attention. He attempted to busy himself, which did not stop you from latching your arms around his waist. He stopped what he was doing, and put his arms over your shoulders, embracing you in a surprisingly warm hold. He kissed the top of your head before you felt him hesitate.

"I am leaving" He stated, his voice sad. You took a moment to process what he had said to you. Part of you wanted to ignore his words- pretend that he had never uttered them, and instead bury yourself into his chest further.

He pushed you forwards slightly, creating a gap between you. This was the first time that he had ever separated himself from you, and you knew it may sound ridiculous, but even that broke your heart.

"I am leaving." He repeated, this time his voice was laced with something colder.

"You cannot leave?" Your voice left your mouth as barely a whisper- not your intention at all, but you could not even attempt to hide the wave of sadness that came over you. Sihtric blinked, allowing his eyes to stay closed for just a moment too long.

"I have to." He stated. You scrunched your face up.

"We are to marry? We are to do so many things!" You responded, this time your voice definitely much louder than a whisper- your sadness had now evaporated, and had turned into anger.

Sihtric sighed, running a hand through his hair as he forced his gaze from fixating on you. You did not give him a chance to reply before you continued, "you were the one who said that we could get through this together, " you raised your index finger, and pointed it towards him, "you said that you would always protect me, and never allow me to come to harm yet here you are, leaving me to fight alone." Your voice now cracked as tears formed in your eyes, you tried your absolute hardest to not allow a single drop to fall- but unfortunately failed miserably.

His eyes finally found yours, softening as he focused on your tear stained face. "I cannot stay here any longer, this curse is going to kill me if I allow it."

You could not bring yourself to do anything but blink at him, the feeling of anger and betrayal soared through your entire being. You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Instead you will allow it to kill me." You retorted, placing both hands on your hips as you held your gaze on his. He let out a breath, and glared at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were so fearful of his response that you interrupted him, "you do not even wish that I come with you?"

Your voice was significantly quieter now, as opposed to only a moment before. Sihtric took a deep breath once again, this time looking up at the ceiling, desperately trying to gather his thoughts. After a few seconds, his head dropped back down.

"It is not safe for you to come with me." You felt your heart break into two at his words- you knew this was an excuse, for it was a ridiculous thing to say. This entire situation was utterly ridiculous.

"I love you, I adore you, I protect you, I cry with you, I laugh with you, I make love with you, I trusted you, but now I know: loyalty is a coin, and you spent yours without a second thought." Your chest rose up and down rapidly at your lack of breath within your words- fearful that you will never see him again, you said any word that came to your head.

A tear fell down Sihtric's cheek, and he shook his head, almost as though he was trying to convince himself to stop showing emotion. You, however, were not afraid of showing emotion. You cried, hysterically- allowing the fibres of every emotion to seep out of you. You wanted nothing more than for him to comfort you, hold you, or even speak to you. Yet, all he did was stand and watch you with tears falling down his face.

And with that, he began to walk towards the door. You sprang up, not caring about how loud you were being, nor caring about any embarrassment or judgement that came with it. You tried to grab onto him, crying out different words to try and make him stay, but he just closed his eyes tightly, gritted his teeth and walked out of the door, leaving you vulnerable and hopelessly sat on the ice cold floor.

The next few days were the hardest you had ever endured- and you truly had been through a lot. Nothing you had been through, however, began to compare to the heartbreak that you felt. You attempted to paint a brave mask onto your face, but failed. You were not an entertainer nor a story teller who could pretend to smile- you were a shield maiden, brave, yet vulnerable in the face of love.

The boys were acting strangely- shooting harsh expressions her way and making random, uncalled for comments. You truly felt as though the world that you knew had vanished into thin air, and it had been replaced by a completely different realm- one of which you had no happiness, and no friends. You felt ridiculous for referring to this as random, though- this is what Skade did. This is what she was good at. You were now cursed, and you needed to accept that.

You kept your distance from the boys. For some reason, you did not want them to know about the depressive pit that you had fallen into. But avoiding them would only work for so long.

You paused your lone training, allowing your steel sword to clank onto the dried dirt beneath you. You stood up straight and took a deep breath in through your nose, and then exhaled through your mouth to try and control your breathing. Using your right hand, you harshly rubbed the sweat from your forehead. You leant down to reclaim your sword, and as you did you heard a voice call your name. Uhtred's voice. The last person you wanted to see in this moment. You mumbled a quick curse before spinning your body around to face him. Finan was with him.

"I have barely heard from you since Sihtric betrayed us." He stated blankly, his eyes locked into yours, making you feel as though you were trapped. Your eyes flickered to Finan, who surprisingly looked at you with a soft expression.

You tried your upmost hardest to show a lack of care, "I have had things to think about."

Uhtred tilted his head and gave a slight nod at your words, "this is understandable. You have had long enough, gather what you need, we are going."

You furrowed your brows, "going where?"

Uhtred rolled his eyes, for some reason annoyed at your justifiable question.

"Do not worry where you are going- you need to prove to me that you are loyal, and that you are not going to also escape to go with Sihtric."

You scoffed at his words, "escape? So what, am I your prisoner now?"

Uhtred shook his head, you continued, extending both arms to the sides in a defensive position.

"I could have left with him, if I wanted too." Lie. "But I did not, I chose to stay here because I serve you!" Another lie.

Finan looked as though he wanted to speak, but he did not. He, instead, looked at Uhtred expectantly.

"Just get what you need and meet us back here."

You adhered to his command, yet you feared that you may have mimicked a child when you did so- stomping away like an infant who had been told to go to bed early, your sword trailing a path in the dirt as you carelessly dragged it across the ground, behind you.

"Pick your sword up!" Uhtred shouted behind you. You quietly mimicked him, before doing as he said.

You quickly popped back into your room, grabbing things that you may need for the journey- you did not know where you were going, but you did know Uhtred and from this, could assume that you would be going on a long journey, to confront someone. And you just prayed to the gods that it had nothing to do with Skade, yet deep down you knew it would.

As predicted, you were on your way to confront Brida, Cnut, Bloodhair, Hæsten, Dagfinn, and Skade- all idiots that you believed deserved to meet their miserable fates. You were sick of them, and could not wait until the day that you could watch the life drain from their eyes- especially Skade.

"Now that Sihtric is gone, and I have less to live for- I want to be the one to kill Skade." You announced. All heads snapped towards you, as they had been the first words that you had uttered the entire time that you had been travelling.

Finan and Osferth shot each other an odd look, but you shook it off, assuming that they just thought you were being ridiculous.

"Is that so?" Uhtred asked, his body still facing forwards as his horse trotted along the dusty path.

"Absolutely." You solidified, commanding your horse to go faster so that you could be directly next to Uhtred. You did not like that he was smiling, laughing even.

"If you see me as such a useless warrior, why bother with me?" You said, through gritted teeth.

Uhtred swivelled his head slightly to look at you, "stop being so hasty, there is something that you need to see when we get there."

You hummed in response, and of course considered asking many questions about his meaning- yet you decided not too. You knew better than to do that, because you knew that Uhtred would not tell you anything more. In fact, he probably only said it as a way to stop you from speaking further.

By the time you reached the forest, it was now nightfall. Uhtred raised a hand to signal that everyone needed to come to a halt. You stopped your horse, but squinted your eyes as you tried to decipher who the figure within the trees was- clearly it was someone who was there to meet you all, but you wanted to know who.

The figure began to walk closer towards you, and as they did, Uhtred engulfed them into a hug. You sped up your walking so that you were closer to them, and when they pulled apart, your heart nearly leapt from your chest. It was Sihtric.

Sihtric immediately looked at you.

You did not speak, as your brain was too busy piecing things together- one thing that you were not was stupid, in fact, you were extremely intellectual- so it infuriated you that you had not figured out what was going on sooner.

"I wanted to tell ya, but then it wouldn't have been believable." Finan said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You scanned the area, realising that him and Osferth had known the entire time, in turn, infuriating you further.

To your surprise, Sihtric did not speak, and instead knelt before you, bowing his head. He then looked up at you, "I am sorry my love, I had to do this."

You could not produce words, so you did what you knew best.

You raised your fist, and without a second thought, punched him with a clean right hook. Sihtrics head fell to the side, and he had to use his entire strength to stop himself from losing his pride completely by falling over. The men that surrounded reacted in hushed tones, for they had to be quiet- they were still in enemy territory.

Sihtric sniffed, spat the blood from his mouth to the floor, and then looked up at you again, still kneeling.

"I deserved that, I know." He stated, massaging the side of his face. You did not respond, so he continued. "I love you deeply, but we do not have time to talk about this now-" he then went on to explain where everyone was and what the plan would be. He said that Bloodhair was dead, and only Haesten remains at the camp.

"Tell Skade that I am near, and take her to the trees by the boats- we will meet you there." Uhtred commanded, Sihtric nodded curtly in response, and then looked at you once again. You stood glaring at him, yet all you wanted to do was jump into his arms.

He gently kissed your head, before retreating back into the trees.

"Y/N, I-" Uhtred began to speak, but you held your hand up to silence him, "lets just get this done, shall we?"

Uhtred gladly accepted, before giving his next orders.

You all waited by the tree- yet you waited slightly further up, so that you could hear nearby conversations. Shortly after arriving there, Sihtric arrived with Skade.

"Where is she?" Sihtric asked in a hushed tone, yet his voice showed panic. Uhtred used his hand to point and show that you were crouching next to an opening in the bushes further up.

You could not hear much, but suddenly heard Haesten shouting obscenities as he got closer. You leapt up from your position and ran towards them.

"He knows, he is coming, we need to go, now!" You commanded as you ran into the water. Everyone followed you as you dragged a boat further towards the shore. Uhtred put Skade into the boat, before climbing in himself. You were about to climb in, when you felt two hands on your bottom. Sihtric picked you up with ease, and placed you back into the boat, before skilfully jumping in and letting the anchor go.

You perched on the head of the boat, looking up at the stars, wondering what had happened within the last hour. You felt someone sit beside you, and it did not take many guesses to figure out who.

"I cannot believe that you treated me that way, regardless of whether it was real or not. You watched me cry and beg, you literally watched my heart get ripped from my chest, and did not care?"

Sihtric shook his head, "of course I cared, I ripped your heart out and in turn ripped out my own." He replied, putting an arm around you. You wanted to take his arm off, but you were so grateful that he was there, you allowed him to engulf you. "I cried the entire journey, I did not want to do it, but I had too- I was commanded too, you know better than anyone that I had to do this." His words sounded like more of a plea than he had anticipated.

"Please forgive me, I do not know what I would do if you did not." He spoke yet again, his words becoming quieter and quieter as they progressed.

You did not speak, and instead turned your body slightly and looked up at him- his face was still stained with blood. You laughed slightly at your own actions, "you deserved that punch."

Sihtrics face softened, a grin creeping onto his lips, "I know that."

You stared at each other for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say next.

"I cannot forgive you so easily, Sihtric." You said, your voice not carrying the emotion that he had hoped for. His face dropped, and he felt scared.

You continued, "Yet, I love you so much that I will have to find a way."

He let out a deep breath, a relieving deep breath.

You leant forward, gently planting a lingering kiss on his lips, his breath hitched as your lips pressed softly to his. The taste of copper lingered faintly from the blood on his split lip, yet you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the warmth of his mouth coax you closer. His hand found your waist, fingers trembling slightly as they pressed into you, hesitant yet desperate.

At first, the kiss was delicate, your lips moved slowly against his, exploring the familiar sensation. His hand rose from your waist to your face, his fingertips brushing your cheek with reverence. You sighed into him, and that breath seemed to break something loose inside him.

The kiss deepened, turning hungry, urgent. His arm circled tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers wove into his hair, tangling in the dark strands, tugging slightly as his mouth claimed yours with growing intensity. His other hand pressed against the small of your back, anchoring you firmly to him.

"Erm? Excuse me? There are other people in this tiny boat you know?" Finan's thick accent tore you both from your captivity, and you realised where you were. You turned to him, slightly breathless and used your index finger to point at them, "you all have a lot of making up to do, I do not forgive such coldness this easily."

They all hummed, while Skade stared into your soul- you ignored her.

Sihtric had not taken his eyes off of you once, and did not acknowledge the others' presence. Instead, he used his hand to turn your face into his attentions once again.

"You will not regret this." He promised, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes locked onto yours, fierce with determination and love.

"Don't," you warned gently, though your fingers still held him close.

"Never," he swore, and you believed him- for now, that was enough.