#because it’s been a while since I’ve had that

[amirasainz]

So I read a lot of stories similar to my requests. But I just think you are the best author on tumblr, so I wanna ask you😅☺️

Secret marriage with Oscar. They married really young and the drivers reaction. She is always at the races, but just in the shadows. The only one that knows is Charles, because he is Oscars "dad" 😭😍

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Secret marriage

The F1 paddock buzzed with the usual energy and tension. The race weekend was in full swing, and every driver, mechanic, and team member was focused on the task ahead. It was Friday afternoon, and most of the drivers had just finished media sessions and were now lounging around in the driver's hospitality suite, swapping stories and strategies. Oscar was among them, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression.

Nearby, Lando noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A woman, sleek and stylish, with a British Vogue ID around her neck, had been lingering around Oscar’s side of the paddock all day, chatting with him occasionally before darting off to interview other drivers. Lando squinted, intrigued.

“Oi, Oscar,” Lando called out, leaning back in his seat. “Who's that Vogue chick? She’s been following you around like a shadow.”

Oscar glanced up from his phone, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who, Y/N? She’s just here for work. We know each other pretty well.”

George, who overheard the conversation, raised an eyebrow. “Pretty well? Mate, you guys looked like you were practically whispering sweet nothings before she left the garage.”

Oscar shrugged, but his eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe we were.”

Lando sat up, fully interested now. “Wait… what? Are you and Miss Vogue dating?”

Oscar chuckled, keeping his cool. “Not exactly.”

Pierre, catching onto the conversation, leaned forward. “Come on, spill the beans! There’s definitely something going on.”

Oscar finally sighed, looking up at his friends with an amused smirk. “Well… actually, Y/N and I… we’re married.”

The room fell silent.

George blinked. “You’re what?”

“Married,” Oscar repeated, his tone casual as ever. “Been married since we turned eighteen, actually.”

The explosion was immediate. Lando gasped, practically jumping out of his seat, while Pierre clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

“No way!” Lando exclaimed. “You’ve been married this whole time?”

Oscar nodded, barely reacting to the chaos unfolding around him. “Yep. Just never made a big deal out of it.”

“You’re telling me,” George said, his voice high-pitched with disbelief, “that you’ve been secretly married for… what? Three years now?”

“Three and a half, actually,” Oscar replied calmly, clearly enjoying their reactions. “We wanted to keep it private. Just worked out that way.”

Pierre looked like he was about to faint. “Mate, do you realize we never even knew you had a girlfriend, let alone a wife?”

Oscar gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

George put his hands on his head. “I thought I was the reserved one around here! But this? Oscar, this is next level. How did we never catch on?”

Oscar chuckled, glancing over at Y/N, who was currently chatting with a journalist a few feet away. “She’s at most of the races. Just… behind the scenes.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Pierre muttered, shaking his head in amazement.

Just then, Charles strolled into the room, looking curious as he caught the tail end of the conversation. “What’s everyone freaking out about?”

Lando grinned, looking ready to explode with excitement. “Charles, you’re not gonna believe this. Oscar’s married! Secretly married, since he was eighteen.”

Charles’s reaction was far more subdued. He simply nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Ah, yes. I know about Y/N.”

The room went silent again as every driver turned to gape at Charles.

“You knew?” George demanded, wide-eyed.

Charles gave them a smug shrug. “Of course. I’ve known for ages. I’m Oscar’s ‘dad,’ remember?” He winked, referencing the Monaco joke that had become a running gag between them. “It’s my job to know these things.”

Oscar snorted, smirking over at Charles. “Guess you can’t keep secrets from your ‘Monaco dad.’”

Lando threw his hands up in the air. “You’re all insane! Charles knows, Oscar’s been married for years, and we’ve all been left out!”

Pierre shook his head, still processing. “Wait, how did you find out, Charles?”

Charles leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “Oscar told me after our Monaco podium. Said he needed someone to know in case he ever needed advice. Before we went partying, I met Y/N and let me tell you, she is a lovely girl. And, you know, as his ‘father’ in the paddock, it was only a matter of time.” He gestured grandly, making everyone laugh.

George narrowed his eyes playfully. “So all this time, we could’ve been calling him ‘married man Oscar’ instead of ‘little Oscar’?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, amused. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a talking point. We wanted to keep things between us. Y/N’s work with Vogue keeps her busy and traveling too, so it worked out.”

Oscar turned his head towards Y/N, calling out softly with his arm outstretched. " Love, came here for a second, please."

Y/N approached just then, noticing the group staring at her with a mix of shock and admiration. “Is everything okay?”

Pierre looked at her, still in awe. “So… you two are really married?”

She glanced at Oscar with a smile, nodding. “Surprise?”

Lando leaned in, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “How have you kept this a secret all this time? You must have some insane spy-level skills.”

Y/N laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. We just wanted to enjoy it without all the attention.”

“Respect,” George said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “You two might be the most low-key power couple I’ve ever seen.”

Charles looked proud, wrapping an arm around Oscar’s shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, shoving Charles off. “Alright, alright, let’s not make a big thing out of it.”

Lando looked at Oscar, eyes still gleaming. “Mate, this is a big thing! You’ve been living like some kind of undercover superhero. ‘Married Piastri’ is a whole new level of cool.”

Pierre nodded eagerly. “Right? It’s like finding out Clark Kent was Superman all along.”

Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying his friends’ reactions. “Well, maybe now that you guys know, I’ll bring her around a bit more.”

Lando lit up. “Please! And maybe you can finally get that double date with George and Carmen going!”

George chuckled. “Right, because that’s exactly what we need. A bunch of drivers swapping marriage advice.”

Pierre smirked, nudging Oscar. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, you know. Now everyone’s gonna ask why we’re not secretly married.”

Oscar smirked back. “Hey, don’t blame me. You all had just as much chance to find out as Charles.”

As the group laughed, Y/N leaned into Oscar’s side, whispering, “Well, I guess the secret’s out.”

Oscar grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “Guess so. But I don’t mind. Not if it means we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Charles rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, alright. Now, can we get back to racing, or are you going to give us a honeymoon slideshow too?”

The group burst into laughter, and Oscar looked around, more comfortable than ever. His secret was out, but he couldn’t be happier to finally share it with his friends.

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy

solstråle engen ft. @wileys-russo 's fresa! sol struggles with school, and facing the threat of having to repeat the year, ingrid and mapi try to get her some study help. it doesn't go... exceptionally well.

—

It was more frustrating than anything. For years, you hadn’t really given school much thought, or put in very much effort. And then, suddenly, you’d been shipped off to Spain and everything was different. Everything changed again six months later, and suddenly, school felt like something that held a lot more weight.

You didn’t have many opportunities to make Ingrid and Mapi proud of you. Sure, they’d say they were proud of you when you asked for help while having a panic attack, or for setting some sort of boundary. That just didn’t feel… right. It didn’t feel like it was enough. They were bending over backwards, every day, to make you feel known and seen and loved, and the least you could do was show that they were helping you, right?

So, very suddenly, school was important. Grades were important. It seemed, though, that the years of not caring and not paying attention had taken their toll. Because you studied, and you actually tried but it wasn’t enough. Your grades were still… mediocre. Nothing to brag about. 

You worked harder, to no avail. You tried different methods of studying, you devoted hours and hours to your schoolwork, and… no improvement. So much of your work felt like it went way over your head. 

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be upset when you handed Ingrid the test you’d gotten back. She had a busy week and she really didn’t need you breaking down over a stupid test, like you had earlier in the school bathroom. Your plan was to bypass your sister and her girlfriend, head straight to your room, and maybe slam the door. If you acted angry, they were more likely to give you space to calm down, which meant there was much less of a chance you’d get all pathetic and upset.  

Only, you’d forgotten that Ingrid had known you were getting the test back today, having seen you study and study and study for it. Your sister was sure that since you studied so much, it must be a good grade, and she had a magnet all ready to attach your exam to the fridge. 

The minute you walked into the house and saw her waiting in the kitchen, freshly showered from training, an expectant and excited look on her face, you shrunk in on yourself, very suddenly wanting a hug more than you wanted to cry silently into your pillow all alone.

“How’d you do?!” Ingrid asked excitedly, her smile only faltering when your lip began to wobble. “Solstråle?”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out tugging the collar of your shirt up over your eyes before she could see you begin to cry. Ingrid’s arms were wrapping around you only a moment later, holding you tight against her as she floundered, confused as to what had upset you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ingrid promised, making eye contact over your head with Mapi, who had wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of you trembling against your sister. 

Ingrid thought something must have happened at school, and Mapi quickly came to the same conclusion. The thought that you’d done poorly on your test, and this was the reason behind your distress, never even crossed her mind. Ingrid had never known you to care much about your grades, and while you were trying harder now, she didn’t think something like a bad result could get you this upset. 

“I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You whimpered, briefly wondering when you’d turned into this person who cried at the drop of a hat and allowed her sister to hug you whenever you were upset. It was so different. Everything was so different. 

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, heart melting a bit as Mapi walked closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before perching on the counter. “Tell me, Sol, tell me what’s wrong.” 

Wordlessly, you withdrew from the comforting embrace of your sister and swung your bag off your shoulder. You unzipped it, pulling out the exam from the red folder Ingrid had neatly labeled for you. You handed it to her, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of all the red marks all over the first page. 

Ingrid’s first instinct was to sigh, but you’d been with her long enough for her to know you’d just shut down. Not to mention that she knew how much work you’d been putting into this specific exam. Prepared to ask you what had gone wrong, she looked up to see that the tears had stopped. There wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face, like you were preparing yourself to be yelled at. Ingrid had no such plans.

“Oh, Sol. Kjære, come here.” She said instead, pulling you back into her. There was some hesitation on your part, but after a second you melted into the hug, knowing that if Ingrid was upset, she would have told you so by now. “You studied so hard, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, frowning when Ingrid pulled back and placed both her hands on your face, tilting your head up to look at her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best, that’s all I want from you.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to stare at your shoes. You hadn’t taken them off at the door, breaking one of Ingrid and Mapi’s rules. This additional mistake, regardless of how small it was, made you feel even worse. You couldn’t do anything right. 

A tattooed hand grabbed yours, and you looked up at Mapi. She had moved closer, holding the exam in one hand, her other gripping yours. 

“This is a passing grade, mi sol. Why are you so upset? It’s not like you to get so worked up over school.” Your face flushed, but before you could step away, Mapi’s grip tightened, as if she’d sensed you were about to run. “Come on, it’s us. You can tell us.” 

“I.. It’s not good enough.” You stammered, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with genuine despair written all across your face. “I wanted to do well. For both of you., I wanted you to be proud of me.” 

“Oh, Sol,” Ingrid sighed, exchanging a look with Mapi that only served to make you feel even more foolish. It had taken so much for you to admit why you were working so hard, and though you knew, logically, that Ingrid wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb, she had. 

You wrenched away from her, suddenly deciding that you didn't need her pity. Backing up until you hit the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, you began to ramble. Unable to look either Ingrid or Mapi in the eye, you missed the sadness on their faces. “No, forget it. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It’s not a big deal, It’s my own fault, I’m too stupid to learn stuff my classmates already know-”

“Hey!” Mapi cut in, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You are not stupid. Don’t ever say that again.” 

You froze, staring at her with your mouth agape. Ingrid took a cautious step closer, aware she was toeing a thin line between you breaking down again, and pushing you into anger. 

“You aren’t stupid.” Ingrid echoed. “You’re not stupid, and you know you aren’t. It’s just one exam, Sol, it doesn’t make or break anything.” 

At this, you averted your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck. This exam could be a determining factor in your educational career. Ingrid just didn’t really know that information yet. Like a bloodhound, though, Ingrid caught the scent of your secret, her eyebrows raising as she stared at you. 

“It doesn’t make or break anything, right?” 

It was a staring contest for a few moments, one you and Ingrid both knew she would win, yet you kept it going all the same. The silence became too intense, the gazes of your sister and her girlfriend breaking your resolve rather quickly. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your bag yet again and pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope. 

Ingrid held her hand out expectantly, apprehension clear on her face. You handed her the envelope, eyes still training on the floor. 

“Solstråle. This is addressed to me.” Ingrid huffed, removing the letter from inside and beginning to read it. Mapi moved forward, peeking over her girlfriend’s shoulder, eyes quickly scanning over the letter. You braced yourself, prepared for the worst. 

The last time you’d brought home something like this… you’d ended up living in Spain. Which was potentially the best thing that could have happened, but you had a feeling the consequences of this letter wouldn’t work out as well. 

Your sister placed the paper down on the counter, raking her fingers through her hair as she thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Part of her wanted to yell, but when was that ever the right choice? Before she could decide, María’s shoulder bumped into hers. Her girlfriend nodded in your direction, clearly trying to get Ingrid to see how terrified you were. 

And Ingrid couldn’t yell at you when you were like this, all sad and scared with your head bowed and your arms folded across your chest protectively. 

“Sol?” She said, her tone much quieter and kinder than you were expecting it to be. You looked up at her, shocked further to see that she didn’t look very angry. “Why didn’t you give this to me last week when they sent it?” 

Ingrid nodded towards the date on the letter, and you exhaled shakily. “I… I was hoping I could just try really hard for the rest of the year and do really well in all my classes and it would be fine.” 

Your sister nodded slowly, reading the letter over again. 

Mapi took the opportunity to chime in, her hand absentmindedly resting on your sister’s back, even as she fixed her warm gaze on you. “Nena, that is a lot for you to carry all by yourself. Having the threat of maybe needing to repeat the year hanging over your head… you should have told us.” 

You shrugged, blinking away the moisture pooling in your eyes at Mapi’s tone. “I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” You mumbled. 

“You haven’t disappointed anyone!” Mapi exclaimed, frowning when you just scoffed in response. “I’m serious, Sol. We saw you study and study for this exam. You did your best, you’re doing your best. That’s all we can ask from you.” 

“My best isn’t good enough! I’m going to fail and have to repeat the year.” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. The mere thought of another year of school was horrifying. 

Ingrid finally put the letter down, a blazingly determined expression on her face. “No. You’re not going to fail anything. We’ll help you, we’ll reach out to your teachers, we’ll get you extra help. We’ll figure it out, Sol, but you’re not going to fail. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

For anyone else, that may have sounded overbearing. For you, though, it just felt supportive. It felt like you weren’t dealing with this yourself anymore, and that was a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Okay.” You said quietly. “Thanks.” 

Luckily, your sister knew you well enough to understand that after such an intense conversation, you’d need some time to yourself to process. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said, catching your wrist and turning you around slightly before you could leave the room. “I’m already proud of you, and the person you are. You could fail every test for the rest of your life, and I’d still be proud of you. Okay?”

You blinked at her for a prolonged second, before you nodded jerkily. Turning to head up the stairs to your room, you changed your mind, spinning back around and falling into your sister. She hugged you tight, as she always did, and you wondered briefly how you got so lucky. 

—

It was the following day that Mapi and Ingrid proposed their plan. Before they’d even said anything, you knew a few things. 

One, that they were excited about whatever plan they’d cooked up that day at training. 

And two, that you weren’t really going to have a choice in the matter. 

As a general rule, Ingrid and Mapi didn’t make you do many things. If they thought something was important, they’d encourage you to try it a few times, and then they’d let you stop if you still didn’t like it. That was how it had been for the school’s climbing club, the school’s hiking club, and the school’s baking club. All those were activities you enjoyed, but… activities you enjoyed doing yourself.

Well, not always.You loved to climb and hike with Ingrid. Frido, too, sometimes. And you could bake for hours with Mapi helping, measuring out ingredients and getting baking flour everywhere. But doing any of the above with strangers who spoke in rapid, fluent Spanish or catalan, was not fun. It was anxiety inducing. 

You knew this was about to be another one of those ideas, the ones you had to give a fair shot. 

It was at dinner, and you were trying to hide the wince everytime you picked up your water glass with your right hand, your wrist intensely aching after the time you spent in the climbing gym after school. It always hurt when you climbed for too long, though it was getting worse with every passing day. Another problem for another day, you decided, seeing the barely contained glee on Mapi’s face as she cleared her throat. 

“What?” You said suspiciously, putting your fork down and narrowing your eyes at the Spaniard. 

Mapi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Mapi’s made you a playdate!” She said, smirking when her girlfriend wacked her in the arm. 

“Ingrid, that is not going to help me convince her.” Mapi huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still unamused, you continued to frown at Mapi. “I’d love it if you didn’t keep proposing ideas that you’d need to convince me of. Teaching you how to rock climb, trying to get that stain out of my favorite sweatshirt yourself, being the keeper while you practiced your free kicks, helping you build that bonfire–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mapi dismissed. 

“You got stuck on the rock wall, my sweatshirt has a hole in it, the ball hit me so hard in the stomach I threw up, and both of us lost part of our eyebrows!” 

Mapi glared at you, while Ingrid hid her face behind her hand as her body shook with silent laughter. 

“Well this plan,” Mapi sighed, “is Ingrid AND Alexia approved.” 

That wiped the smile off your face. 

“Alexia? What does she have to do with this?” 

There were a few things you knew for certain about Mapi. One, she didn’t give up easily. Another, that she wanted more than anything for you to be friends with Alexia’s little sister. And from the sly smile on her face, you were almost sure you knew where this was headed. 

“I asked her to ask Fresa to tutor you!”

“No.” You said immediately. 

Mapi continued like you hadn’t spoken. “Fresa is a bit younger than you, but already finished your year! She’s studying to be a nurse, she’s very smart. Fres speaks English and she can help you with your Spanish and any other school things you need help with.” 

“No.” You repeated, looking helplessly at your sister. Ingrid looked to finally be taking the situation seriously, a familiar look on her face; one you knew meant that no matter how much you argued, she was going to get her way. Meanwhile, Mapi was still droning on. 

“–get along great with her! I think you guys have a lot in common, and it could be fun and educational!” 

“And you know all the best things are fun and educational.” Ingrid chimed in cheerily, this time her face telling you to go along with Mapi’s idea because she was excited about it, or else. 

“Educational.” You said sarcastically. “Super!” 

Still, you agreed, Mapi grinned at you, and Ingrid patted your back reassuringly. Mapi had a lot of bad ideas. You were pretty sure this would turn out to be the worst. 

—

You always spent more time at the climbing gym when things were rough. Back in Norway, you’d spend multiple hours a day, everyday, there. It was one of your tells; Ingrid always knew something was bothering you if you went to climb right after school. It was your way of shoving your emotions down before you could feel them, before your sister could read the hurt on your face and give you one of those tight hugs that brought tears to your eyes. 

Only, sometimes climbing didn’t do it. Sometimes, it felt like the walls were closing in, like you were about to suffocate, if you didn’t have some time completely by yourself to think. On those days, you really preferred to hike. You hadn’t felt that urge in a while; the urge to just disappear for hours, walk until your legs felt like they were going to fall up, and sit at the top of the trail until the world felt like a place you wanted to be in again. The last time had been back in Norway, after a day you didn’t even want to think about. 

Yet you found yourself in that same familiar mindset after your first study session with Fresa. 

It hadn’t gone well. You tried to go into it confident, sure that if you acted chill enough, she’d maybe miss that you had no idea what you were doing with your schoolwork. 

Confident, even as you arrived 15 minutes late. Scout had gotten his favorite toy, a small tiger that squeaked, stuck under the sofa, and it had taken you time you didn’t have to get it out for him. You could have left it, but Ingrid and Mapi weren’t home and you knew Scout would just sit by the couch and cry the whole time you were gone if you didn’t get his tiger out for him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him to be so upset. And then you’d had a hard time finding a parking space at the library, and the directions inside were all in Spanish and Fresa had texted you to follow the signs to the study rooms but you misread the sign and went to the opposite end of the library before figuring out your mistake. And you would have texted you were going to be late, because you hated being late, but your phone was dead and the cord from your car had gone missing. 

When you entered the room, Fresa already looked annoyed. 

Annoyed, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, twirling a pen repeatedly in an almost unconscious manner. She looked very… put together. 

“Llegas tarde.” She commented, rolling her eyes when you didn’t reply. Your face flushed a bit as she must have picked up on your confusion, repeating herself in english. “You are late.” 

Any other time, you would have known what she said. Your issue wasn’t really understanding Spanish, it was more speaking and reading it. You felt weirdly flustered though today, like your brain was distracted and not quite able to follow what the other girl was saying. Anxious, too, at this social situation you’d been forced into. 

Briefly, you thought about explaining about Scout and the tiger and the parking space and the signs being in Spanish, but then you realized Fresa wouldn’t care about any of that. So instead, you just nodded and apologized, feeling your heart start to pound from the anxiety of the situation. 

You didn’t like talking to new people. Especially pretty new people who spoke a different language and were looking at you like you weren’t very smart. Even if you thought that yourself… you didn’t want anyone else to think so. Any intention of actually asking Fresa for help with the mountains of stuff you were confused with went out the window, then, and you almost subconsciously decided to just… try to get through without letting her know quite how lost you were. 

Fresa was alarmingly smart. She kept asking you questions about your work, about what you needed help with. Everything didn’t feel like an answer you wanted to give. Fresa seemed organized, though, and you assumed letting her take the lead and decide what to work on would placate her. Instead, she just looked more and more annoyed with every passing second.

 She kept asking questions about this paper and that paper and you didn’t know what papers she was talking about. You felt so stupid. More stupid than when you’d failed your test last week. 

“How do you even find the right paper in there?” Fresa asked, pulling a judgemental look as you rifled through your bag, searching for the article she was asking for.

Your bag was a mess, you knew it was a mess. You’d knocked your coffee over all your folders a few days ago, sitting at the counter when Scout barked and startled you. That was oddly upsetting in and of itself because Ingrid had gotten you the folders and labeled them for you and you felt like you’d destroyed something nice she’d done for you. You hadn’t told her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything, so now your school papers were living crinkled and disorganized in your bag.

And you were pretty sure the article Fresa was asking for had been a casualty of the coffee incident, because you’d scanned the paper and thought it wasn’t important before throwing it out. The Spanish had confused you, and you hadn’t realized you’d need the article for an assignment. Stupid. 

 You were feeling more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed. And, maybe, your reaction to feeling embarrassed was always anger. You pulled out a random piece of paper, slamming it down onto the table with more force than necessary in your haste to give the Spaniard something. 

Fresa instantly knew that what you’d given her wasn’t the right article, asking again if you had it as you shoved the other paper back into your bag. 

Logically, you knew you should just… admit you threw it away because you didn’t realize you needed it. For some reason, you just couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, feeling shockingly like crying. Nothing was going right and you were making yourself look like an idiot and all you could do was shrug as Fresa looked at you and took a deep breath. 

Then, she seemed to come to some kind of realization, her expression softening slightly. 

“Can you not read this? The spanish?” 

You flinched, feeling your face flush. Again, the reply of ‘no I can’t, would you please help me?’ seemed to evade you. Instead, you spewed some lie about being able to read the article, calling Fresa’s questions stupid and telling her she was wasting your time. 

Fresa seemed to have reached her breaking point, her voice rising as yours had. You didn’t really hear what she said, much too distracted by the way her eyebrows knitted together when she was frustrated, and the way her hand tightly gripped the pen she was holding. 

Then, she made an offensive impression of your shrugging. And if you hadn’t been angry before, you were absolutely fuming now. 

So what if you were quiet? It wasn’t like you really needed to talk much, considering how many questions she’d asked. You were furious at being called out for all your bullshit, feeling like a mess compared to the perfect girl next to you. A very angry mess who’d had a long day and was cursing one María León for making her do this and cursing the beautiful girl next to her for being so infuriating.  

“Alexia’s super little sister. Everyone says you are so smart. Can you not see I do not want your help? You want to be a doctor, no? So go find someone who does.” 

Fresa’s nostrils flared as she shoved her chair away from the table and got to her feet. She began angrily putting her stuff into her bag, and you remained completely still, unable to stop this whole meeting from going up in flames. 

“Eres un maldita idiota!” Fresa snapped, her face red with anger. 

There wasn’t really anything worse she could have said to you at that moment. 

“Snobbete kjerring.” You threw back, feeling a sharp spike of satisfaction when she zipped her bag angrily, completely incapable of understanding what you’d called her. 

“You know, I did this as a favor, tonta. I have worked all day, I came right here after my shift, on time. I have my own studies to do because yes, I want to be a nurse. I am smart, and I know what I want to do with my life. Maybe if you get your head out of your own ass, Engen, you might too! And you are right, this is a waste of time. My time!”

Fresa stomped out of the room, then, and you waited until she was out of sight before dropping your head into your hands with a deep sigh. 

That couldn’t have gone�� any worse. And though it was probably all mostly your fault, you couldn’t help the resentment building for the intelligent, stuck up girl that had thrown insult after insult at you, hitting you in all the places it hurt. You packed your own stuff up once you were sure you wouldn’t run into Fresa again in the parking lot or something, shuffling dejectedly to your car.

The overthinking had begun. Was it really overthinking, you wondered, if you’d actually completely fucked up and the reasons for your anxiety were entirely reasonable? You weren’t sure, and you supposed it didn’t matter, your thoughts quickly spiraling as you rewinded the short meeting in your head. 

The shrugging had really gotten to her, but you weren’t sure what else to do. When in doubt, you had learned silence got you the best results. Often, no one really cared what you had to say anyway. Fresa was different, though, looking at you with her wide eyes, expecting an answer. It was intimidating. It scared you, honestly, how well the other girl seemed to see right through you. 

And maybe… maybe there were some other feelings brewing. Ones you didn’t want to consider. Feeling that didn’t even matter given the way Fresa had stormed out. It didn’t seem like there would be another study session.

This led you to your other problem. You’d fucked this up. Something your sister and Mapi had gone out of their way to set up for you, because they didn’t want you to have to repeat the year. 

You didn’t like to make mistakes. Every single one you made carried the risk that Ingrid would lose her patience with you, and give up. She hadn’t yet, and you’d messed up a fair amount in the past several months, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that no mistake could push her away. That just wasn’t a possibility. So, rather than face your failure, tell Ingrid and Mapi how awkward and weird you’d been, you ran. 

Or walked, you supposed. Your study session with Fresa had ended at 4:00, and it was almost 8 when you found yourself at the top of your favorite trail, legs scratched and aching, as the sun slipped below the horizon. Your phone was still dead and now Ingrid was absolutely going to kill you for going off the grid. 

You broke traffic laws on the way home, any peace you’d found at the top of the hiking trail entirely gone as anxiety began to build up inside of you again. 

Stepping into the house, you slipped off your muddy shoes, wincing at the blood trickling down the few cuts on your legs. Before you could even set your car keys down, though, footsteps were pounding down the hallway towards you. 

“Oh, thank god.” Ingrid gasped, sounding alarmingly emotional as she rushed forward and crushed you into a hug. “She’s here!” 

“Dios  mio.” Mapi muttered, appearing over your sister’s shoulder a moment later. Ingrid pulled away from you, her hands on your shoulders keeping you at arm's length. Her face quickly transformed from relieved to furious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” She hissed. 

“I–”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were supposed to be home hours ago, Sol. Your location wouldn’t show up on my phone, Fresa even said you ended your meeting early,” Ingrid ranted, though you began to tune her out at the sound of her name. 

“You talked to Fresa?” You interrupted, ignoring the incredulous look on Ingrid’s face, turning your attention towards Mapi who was staring stonily at you. 

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. Where were you? Are you drunk? High? Were you fighting?” Ingrid demanded.

Each accusation felt like a bullet to the heart as Ingrid grabbed your chin and yanked it towards her, looking intently at your eyes. You shoved her away angrily; Ingrid wasn’t supposed to see you as that person anymore. She had promised that she didn’t, that she knew you weren’t a bad kid, that you had just been having a hard time. Now, though. She was looking at you like she didn’t trust a word that was about to come out of your mouth. 

“No.” You spat at her, grabbing your phone from your pocket and slamming it on the front hall table. “I went on a hike after I met Fresa and my phone died. I lost track of time. I wasn’t getting drunk or high and I wasn’t fighting anybody, but thanks for having some faith in me.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and even though you expected Ingrid to soften with a bit of guilt, she only seemed emboldened with anger. 

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You were supposed to be back four hours ago Solstråle. Four! This was so irresponsible. Do you not care that we were worried? Do you not care that we were here waiting for you? That Mapi made dinner, and you were going to work on her bike? Or that we were supposed to make cookies? After everything we’ve done for you, Solstråle, I expect more.” She was shouting at this point, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

You looked to Mapi, hoping for her to step in and talk her girlfriend down, but she looked almost as mad as Ingrid was, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“You are…. you are grounded. This is unacceptable, and you better never let it happen again. That is not how family behaves Solstråle. Did you think about how worried we would be? I am so upset with you, so disappointed that you didn’t think about anyone but yourself, that you were so selfish–”

“Alright, Ingrid. Enough.” Mapi cut in finally, stepping forward to grab her girlfriend's hand and squeeze it. You were frozen in front of your sister, fighting the sob that was building in your throat. 

Ingrid stepped back, her face still red with anger. A hint of regret flickered across her face at the sight of your lip trembling and the tears in your eyes. Still, you looked confused, and Ingrid couldn’t shove her anger down at your lack of understanding. She turned, stomping off towards the kitchen, leaving you and Mapi behind. 

“Sol-”

“I’m going to shower. Sorry, Mapi. I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pushing past her and heading up the stairs before the Spaniard could get out another word.  

Mapi sighed tiredly, rubbing her hand over her face. Her Engens were going to make her go grey. 

—

You had only just pulled some pajamas on after your shower when Mapi knocked, her gentle voice calling to you from the hall. 

“Yeah?” You called back, voice gravelly from all the sobbing you had done in the shower. 

Mapi entered, the first aid kit in her hands and a much calmer expression on her face. She was in her pajamas, too, clearly having been waiting up for you to get out of the shower. It had been a long one. Another thing to be sorry for, keeping Mapi awake. 

“Can I help with your legs?” She wondered, gesturing to the many cuts that littered them.

Shrugging noncommittally, you sunk down onto the edge of the bed, Mapi soon taking a seat opposite you. She pulled your calf up to rest across her lap, getting out the antiseptic spray and a few bandages. You purposefully looked away, barely having been able to get the blood off in the shower without getting light headed. 

“Are you okay, mi sol?” Mapi murmured, fanning her hands over the cuts so the spray would dry faster. Mapi had a way of looking at you, eyes crinkled with concern and kindness, that made you want to burst into tears. You fought that instinct. 

“I am fine.” 

Mapi sighed, unwrapping a few of the bandages and beginning to carefully put them on you. 

“Then someone else was crying in the shower while you were in there?” 

No reply came, and Mapi sighed again, tapping your leg to tell you she was done with that one. 

“Look, I know Ingrid was harsh, but you have to understand how worried she was. How worried we both were. I know you still remember the things you wrote in that letter all those months ago. Things like that don’t just go away, Sol, and when you disappear for hours without a word, we worry.” 

This time, Mapi got a shrug in reply, and a small sniffle. She finished up with your other leg, gently pushing it off her lap and pulling you into a soft hug. “It’s okay, Solstråle. Everything is fine now.” 

You scoffed through your tears. “Nothing is fine, Mapi. I screwed up with Fresa, I screwed up with Ingrid. They both probably hate me. Please, just go. I’m tired.” 

Mapi shook her head. “You’re upset, I just want to–”

“No Mapi, just leave me be.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice was shaking almost as much as your hands were, and you were sure you just came off as pathetic. 

“Alright, nena. I love you, hmm? Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

You remained silent, flopping back onto your bed as Mapi walked out of the room. Scout hopped up on the bed in her absence, licking your cheek twice before curling into your side. 

It wasn’t being too hard on yourself; the self hatred you felt in that moment was completely justified. You were very sure of that. 

—

You were tucked into bed when the door creaked open again, Scout not even bothering to lift his head from where it was tucked into the comforter draped over your leg. You blinked your eyes open and they widened in surprise at the sight of Ingrid walking into the room, hair messy as though she’d been tossing and turning. She neared the edge of your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I don’t hate you, okay? I love you very much. Everything is going to be okay, so just try to get some rest.” 

You nodded weakly, impatiently pushing a tear off your cheek with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, yes? And that’s all that really matters.” Ingrid promised, and you nodded, sniffling pathetically. “We can talk more tomorrow, but just go to sleep, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Love you.” You mumbled, Ingrid smiling softly down at her. You didn’t often say that first, something Ingrid attributed to having said it to your Mamma and not heard it back so many times. 

“I love you.” Ingrid replied, patting your cheek twice before tucking the covers up tighter around you, and heading out of the room. 

—

You woke up to a few unexpected things the next morning. One, it was almost 11 and Scout hadn’t woken you up demanding a walk. In fact, Scout was nowhere to be found. Two, the sounds of Mapi’s Spanish soap and Ingrid’s clanging around the kitchen echoed through the house. You’d forgotten they had the day off today. Ingrid must have taken Scout out to let you sleep in. 

The first two unexpected things, then, were explainable. The third… was not. 

A text from Fresa. 

Tuesday at the library. If you want to give it another shot. I think I can help. 

You thought about the way you’d behaved, and the way Fresa had spoken to you. Before you could delete the thread with her and close your phone, though, you thought about the letter you’d hidden from your sister. The excited smile on Mapi’s face when you’d agreed to let Fresa tutor you. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, you pulled the message back up, your fingers typing away without you telling them to.

Yeah. I’d appreciate that. What time? 

There was something that drew you to Fresa, even as she infuriated you. Maybe it was how her voice had softened when she’d asked if you couldn’t read the Spanish on the paper, or maybe it was how she’d smiled unconsciously, watching Alexia score a goal the past weekend. It was a nice smile. And she had a nice voice. 

None of it really made any sense to you, but you’d already sent the text. 

—

For some reason, you felt a bit awkward. There was something very odd about knowing Mapi had been upset with you, because normally that was just Ingrid. But you knew Mapi had been just as worried last night as Ingrid, and just as upset. She’d been in the garage all morning, too, and you wondered if she was avoiding you or allowing you to decide to come to her if you wanted to talk.

After the 5th time you glanced at the door to the garage, though, Ingrid rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the other end of the couch, typing away on her computer. 

“Go talk to her. She’s not angry, I promise.” 

Ingrid wasn’t angry anymore, either. You’d spoken with her practically first thing when you’d woken up, apologizing again and again and emphasizing that you hadn’t really realized how your actions would have affected Ingrid until it was too late. 

You’d told her about a time back in Norway when you’d stayed out all night after a fight with your Mamma, and when you’d come home the next morning, she hadn’t even noticed that you’d been gone. Ingrid understood a bit more, then, and was quick to hug you tight and whisper that she forgave you.

And even though Mapi had come in last night and tried to make you feel better, you knew she might have been waiting to be upset until she knew for sure you were okay. That made you even more nervous. 

Ingrid snorted from behind you when you knocked on the door to the garage, as normally you just walked right in. You shot her a glare, stepping inside the garage at the sound of Mapi’s quiet come in. 

The defender didn’t glance up as you walked in, but you took a seat in the chair next to her. Your chair. 

It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Mapi’s metal tool gently clanging against the bike. 

“What did Fresa say to you last night?” You blurted out, face flushing red because why was that the first thing out of your mouth. 

Mapi fixed you with a half amused look, shaking her head. “That is what you’re asking?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Mapi echoed, going quiet for a moment as she thought. “Not mad. It’s just hard for me, Sol. Last night, you didn’t even think that we’d be worried about you and where you were. It just makes me a bit sad.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not your fault, nena. I just worry for you.” 

You nodded slowly. “I’m really sorry. I should have thought about how worried you guys would have been.”

Mapi gave you a half smile. “I know you are. And you won’t do it again sí?” 

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you agreed, more sure than you’d ever been that you’d not be doing something that stupid again. 

“Now. Why are you so concerned with what Fresa said to me, hmm? What did you do?"

—

[op-sys-chaos]

Tim responded to Jason’s taunt by giving him the middle finger and trying to kick his ass.

Tim and Jason had a few more confrontations after that, and Jason started getting suspicious why Tim was quiet.

When Jason found out, it was because he came to family dinner. Upon seeing Tim use sign to speak, he asked “Hold on, why are you using sign? I’ve heard you speak before.”

Bruce explains that Jason made Tim mute. Jason’s eyes widen and he immediately apologizes. He wanted to hurt Tim but not permanently, though saying that as an apology does not make anyone feel better.

Jason immediately takes sign classes. He doesn’t tell anyone he’s doing this, he just does it. He makes all of his goons learn sign too (because “it’s useful to communicate silently!” and totally not because he wants his brother to be able to be understood, nope, not at all).

Jason, once he’s fluent in sign, gives Tim a full apology in sign language. And I mean an actually good apology, not one that feels half assed or empty. He genuinely is sorry and he feels bad for hurting Tim at all, much less that badly. He should’ve kept Tim out of it and he knows that now.

Any time Tim’s trying to talk to someone and they don’t understand sign, Jason steps up to translate without being asked. Then he ends the conversation by telling the person to learn sign and handing them a small business card looking thing with resources to learn sign. Yes, he carries these around at all times.

He insists that the rest of Bats get fluent. They’re about 90% fluent on their own but they’re busy people and can’t dedicate enough time to it. Jason sits them down and makes them finish learning it. Then he starts insisting that they all get cameras like Tim’s and use that for comms so that they can communicate silently when needed. Because being able to communicate when you need to be stealthy is an asset (and also it makes Tim feel less alone if they’re all doing it).

Jason ends up teaching ASL to street kids in the alley so that they can communicate with each other and outsiders who don’t know sign won’t understand. It also means that they can talk to Tim if he needs to ask them questions for a case. (Previously he’d been using the same hand-to-speech software for interrogations.)

The city has begun noticing that one of their heroes is mute. They brag to other cities that “not only are our heroes so cool that they can handle things without powers, but they also don’t even have to be able-bodied!” A lot of Gothamites start learning sign too, so that they can communicate with their hero. Within two years, it becomes a common method of communication in Gotham (which Jason has had a large part in pushing, since he and his goons have started offering to teach people and he’s still handing out the online learning resource cards to people in Gotham). Jason also starts a small YouTube channel called “ASL with RH” and he teaches Gothamites name signs so that everyone’s using the same ones. All of the rogues, well-known figures like Commissioner Gordon, other heroes like Superman, and even celebrities like Bruce Wayne all get public name signs that Gothamites who learned sign all know.

Sign becomes a common way to distinguish outsiders and Gothamites. 75% of people in the city know sign and they will use it to talk about commonly known secrets. (Such as “Gordon totally knows who the bats are.” Y’know, shit that’s practically common knowledge in Gotham but outsiders are clueless about.)

Within five years, the whole city knows sign. Tim Drake, who was out of the public eye for a while when the injury happened and later reappeared using sign, doesn’t even have to tell people he’s mute. Gothamites just assume he prefers sign now. (The WE board knows he’s mute and were among the first people to learn sign. WE paid for a professional training course for the entire company to learn sign rather than just recommending them to like YouTube videos or whatever. Everyone in the company learns basic phrases they might need to talk to Tim, and the board learns all of the business language words in sign too, and they can optionally become fluent which they all choose to do because otherwise they have to wait for Tim to type his thoughts out into text to speech and that’s annoying to wait for.) Some Gothamites think Tim is now mute, especially conspiracy theorists who think the Waynes are the bats. Others think he’s just trying to push people to learn sign to support deaf and mute people because the Waynes do love doing charity.

Idk, I just think Gotham would absolutely love and support their mute vigilante

The Titans tower attack and everything plays out the same except Jason hits his throat just slightly differently causing Tim to lose use of his vocal chords and go fully mute

Luckily, sign language was already slowly being learned in the manor due to Cass struggling to speak some days, so he already knew basic phrases

the major issue with his newfound mutism is using the comms

the comms are entirely functioning by voice, and without one, youre kinda screwed

Tim attempts to go out with no comms a couple times which makes Bruce very mad so he has to come up with another solution, he ends up installing a camera and chip into his domino so that the camera can pick up his hands and the chip can interpret them and read rhem out to the comms

one day while tim is out as Robin, he ends up confronting the red hood

tim is obviously silent, but instead of Jason noticing this, he chooses to almost tease Tim about it, not knowing the extent of the damage he caused, “what? too scared to even say anything to me now?”

its not until Jason starts to rejoin the family that he learns what happened to Tim that night

[anpanman95]

now that I got he appreciation post out of the way I’ll yap about what I loved the most about this whole scene because was a fucking masterpiece.

1. He looks fucked out and I’m going insane. His heavy breathing was blasting through my headphones and, although that is something that usually annoys me during these scenes, it was done carefully and tastefully. It felt natural and real, not overplayed, not overkilled, but raw and perfectly genuine.

2. Anyone else devastated by the absolute adorableness of this moment? Just me? This was such a cute short thing that casts light into their relationship. They’re both actually very carefree people, always have been, even if Jack had a hard time coming back to his true self. This moment felt so intimate and relaxed. From trying to make the other submit, playfully and sensually, they both pause here and quickly take a breather to gauge each other and decide how is this going to happen before Jack takes the lead again. These are truly Jack and Joke.

3. Wall slamming. It’s one of the cliches I absolutely devour. Ever since episode 1 I knew they would be the kind to do this. I knew their NC would be like this. They want each other too much, they’re gonna take and take and take.

4. No awkward stripping. Just desperate. The moment characters strip have always felt so unnatural for me. This was done hastily and they stumble and it doesn’t look pretty because it shouldn’t. They have wanted each other for too long for them to wait another second in getting themselves naked. Joke is so desperate he struggles with taking Jack’s shirt off and he doesn’t care nor slows down. It adds on the realness of it all.

5. More wall slamming. Dear god I’m unwell. No further words.

6. He was stupid hot for this. They are possessed. As they should be. There’s tenderness and roughness at the same time in their movements and touches, casting light on the fact they love each other but are desperately hungry for each other’s body. They never let you forget that, not once.

7. Did you hear my screams? I was not expecting that. What I’ve seen happen many times on BL NC scenes, is that there is a high contrast done in between the couple when it comes to portraying desire. Usually it’s only one of them that is more vocal or physical about it, while the other takes it and follows. Yin and War have mentioned they don’t want their characters to stick to one dynamic, and it shows a lot in this whole scene. They both are perfectly capable of taking the lead, they both want to take the lead, they both want to submit. They are equals. And that’s always gonna be that way.

The power play, the switching, the rolling in the sheets, the CONSENT, the loving looks, the gentle touches, the rough touches, the pauses, the desperation, the desire.

they did it all. not one single thing missing.

they deserve nothing less than a standing ovation.

yinwar, you did it again

[eddwardharrison]

Since you've been making fusions, shall we be allowed to see a Nexus and Ruin fusion? Please?

I gotta say, I'm loving your fusions and their designs they're so silly and pretty!

…can you tell I was excited for this one…?

I’ve already had this fusion in my head for a WHILE. The entire time I’ve just been thinking about Lapis and Jasper’s super toxic fusion and giggling to myself. THE ONLY REASON I LOVE IT SO MUCH IS BECAUSE OF LAPIS’ DECISION TO KEEP JASPER DOWN IN AN ACT OF REVENGE. I LOVE DESERVED REVENGE. I thought it totally fit Ruin and Nexus because of all the harm Nexus inflicts on Ruin.

Ruin has always put morals first and kills anyone who threatens harm against people he cares about. He has nothing left to lose, but gives everything.

Not a ship!! I really like the idea that Solar and Ruin have a “we could’ve been friends” type of relationship that allows a shred of sympathy for one another, but thats basically it.

There’s a lot of SU references here, the first quote is a quote from Lapis herself!! The second dialogue, though, is my own writing!

OTHER CONCEPTS

• Nexus and Ruin are an incomplete fusion, this means they share a fused body, but their minds are still separated. This is very harmful for fusions and highly irregular.

• This fusion would help Nexus avoid his canon death.

• Ruin keeps Nexus hostage instead of letting him die in canon because he holds sympathy for Solar who would not live with himself if Nexus died before he could reach him. He also believes suffering in life is more of a punishment than death is.

• This is based off of complete revenge on Nexus and protection for Solar and the other celestials. Ruin doesn’t believe they deserve a harmful brother like Nexus.

• Ruin, as the fusion, flies off somewhere isolated to stay and focus on suppressing Nexus.

• Nexus has far less power when it comes to controlling the body from the mind while Ruin has all of the experience. Nexus didn’t ever have to face that mind-space suppression while Ruin knows how to take control from both sides.

• Nexus can still torment Ruin psychologically from his position and slowly break Ruin’s spirit. They both now have full access to his own memories, unadulterated.

Look at these two clips and tell me they don’t hold some resemblance.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Home ▪ Mattheo Riddle x bff!fem!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Summary: y/n wants to makes something special for Mattheo's birthday, but little does she know how special it is about to get.

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Fluff; English is not my first language.

A/N: Thank you guys so, so much for over 300 followers, love y'all!! That said, I don't think I like this one lol. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tag list for this story: @lilloves-34

“Aw, how lovely it is to see you two!”

“Hi, mum.”

Your mother held you warmly before turning to the person next to you.

“You’ve grown taller, Mattheo, dear.”

“As always, Mrs. y/l/n.”

She held him too, and Mattheo did his best to return the hug. His dark eyes turned to you and you offered him a small, affectionate smile. He suddenly looked more comfortable and smiled at your mother when she let him go. 

“Leave your luggage here, dears, it can be unpacked later. Come, I’ve made you two some snacks.”

You and Mattheo follow her into the kitchen, and you can’t help but look at Mattheo. Partly because, well, it’s not like he wasn’t the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen, but mostly because you know he’s not always comfortable in your mother’s house, despite having living here for over two years now. 

Mattheo and you had been best friends since your first year at Hogwarts. But as the years went by, knowing Mattheo was alone at Hogwarts during the holidays made you feel so upset that you started asking him if he wanted to spend it with you, which he accepted with a gratitude he had a hard time hiding. And, naturally, you also asked him if he wanted to come for summer break here as well. From the day Mattheo met your mother, she adored him and soon considered him a full member of the family, sending him sweets and gifts while at school just like she did for you, offering him gifts for his birthdays and Christmas as well, and he started coming every holiday without you asking him. You knew Mattheo was thankful for your mother’s hospitality and affection, as he always made sure to let her know, but you knew - despite him doing his best to hide it - that he felt that he somehow didn’t deserve the kindness and care you mother had shown him. It broke your heart to know he felt like that, but Mattheo wasn’t the kind to easily speak about his feelings so you never dared to bring it up, only sometimes telling him how happy you were that he was here, and that this house was his home.

But what your mother - or anyone else for that matter - didn’t know was that now having Mattheo around at all times was bittersweet for you. You absolutely loved having him in your house, where you knew he was finally loved and cared for, but it also made you two closer and made feelings for him grow - feelings you didn’t know were shared or not. It was slowly breaking you from the inside, and you didn’t know how to deal with it. Of course, you could talk about it with Pansy, who was your other best friend, or your mother, but you perfectly knew what they would both tell you: “tell him how you feel.” Merlin, no. You just couldn’t. Not only because if Mattheo didn’t feel the same way, your friendship would never be the same at best - or completely destroyed in the worst case scenario - and in both cases, you knew it wouldn’t take long for Mattheo to decide to leave your house. If I ever do tell him how I feel, it’s better to wait until we’re both out of Hogwarts and have our own places. 

You walked in the kitchen to find your favourite snacks on the table. 

“Aw, thanks, mum.”

“Yes, thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re more than welcome. Come, sit.”

The three of you sat around the table, you being next to Mattheo on one side and your mother on the other. You and Mattheo started eating while your mother asked about yours and Mattheo’s lives at school. You and Mattheo took turns in making conversation and even had a few laughs as you recalled some of the funny memories you had. After both your stomachs were full, you decided to go unpack your luggage. Mattheo had the same idea, and went to the bedroom that was now essentially his. You both finished at the same time, and found yourselves in the corridor of the second floor. 

“I’ll go take a shower,” Mattheo said quietly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

He walked to the bathroom, but before he came in, you called for him. “Matty?” 

He turned to you and you continued, “As always, this is your home.” 

He gave you a single nod before quickly turning away and going into the bathroom. Letting out a small sigh, you went down downstairs in the living room and found your mother reading a book. 

“Mum?”

She raised her head from her book, “Yes?”

You sat on the sofa next to her, a small smile on your face.

“You know Mattheo’s birthday is coming up?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I already got his gifts and have everything I need to make his favourite cake. Why?”

“Well,” you said, “I thought that we could do something else for a change. We usually have quiet birthdays and it’s nice but I’d really like to do something for Mattheo this time.”

Your mother frowned, “Like what?”

“A surprise party?” you answered. “I could write to the boys and invite them to celebrate?” 

“That’s a good idea, darling. I’ll soon go to Diagon Alley to buy some decorations and, well, more food and drinks.”

You smiled and went to give her a quick hug. “Thank you, mum. You’re the best.”

The evening was nice and quiet, spent playing chess with Mattheo on the ground in the living room like you always did, with your mother playfully cheering on the one winning from the sofa. Mattheo and you laughed a lot while playing, and it warmed your heart to see him relaxed and happy. You knew he was usually shy in the first days he came here, and while you perfectly understood it, you couldn’t wait for him to be his warm, chill, funny self again. The Mattheo you knew and loved. After dinner, your mother went to bed and soon after, Mattheo and you decided to follow. You both went upstairs, and you then went into the bathroom to take a shower and put on your pyjamas. Mattheo had his own bathroom, and he was likely getting himself ready to go to bed. Once you were done, you went to your bedroom, and you weren’t surprised to see Mattheo casually laying on your bed. You went to close the shutters, and when you got in bed, Mattheo’s arms immediately wrapped around your body, and you put your head on his chest. Mattheo and you had taken the habit of cuddling to sleep since the first night he spent here, where a discussion before going to sleep ended up with you guys falling asleep and for some reason waking up in each other’s arms. You found that you slept way better in Mattheo’s arms, so much so that this situation continued in Hogwarts - and it was made easier by your roommate Pansy essentially spending all her nights with Blaise. At first, you just enjoyed the feeling of warmth and safety Mattheo’s embrace gave you, but as your heart started to feel more than friendship for him, cuddling, just like his perpetual presence, became bitter-sweet. You still loved cuddling with Mattheo, in fact you didn’t even know if you could even sleep without him now, but you wondered if it was a good idea to continue like this. But even if I decided it was better to stop, how do I tell him? 

“You alright?” you whispered, raising your head to look at him.

He nodded, “Yeah. Why?” 

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here. This is your home, Matty. And it will always be. But if you’re feeling something different, I want you to tell me.” 

“I’m fine, y/n, really. I’m grateful for your mum and you, you know that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over me.”

He kissed your hair, his hands started gently caressing your shoulder and the middle of your back. Soon after, you felt yourself going to sleep, and thought you heard a voice saying “sleep well, princess.” 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The next following days, Mattheo and you spent all of your time together. Every meal, every activity - playing Quidditch in the garden, reading, studying, taking a nap - was done with him. You loved it, but it made it harder to write to Mattheo’s friends to invite them to the surprise party or to prepare the said party without him knowing, but you still managed to do it while he was reading a book in the living room. Thankfully, all the boys answered your letter and said they would come, and thankfully also, your mother had time to buy what was needed and had the idea to hide it in her room, where you and her knew Mattheo would never dare to go. 

On the day of his birthday, you woke up once again in his arms, and kissed him on the cheek as he was slowly waking up.

“Happy birthday, Matty.”

“Thank you, pretty girl.”

You had managed to get Mattheo agree to go to Hogsmeade in the beginning of the afternoon to get his favourite sweets from Honeydukes so your mom could prepare everything for the party and welcome the guests. You spent some time here, and once you knew everything was likely to be ready, you and Mattheo got back home, and you had a hard time not smiling. But you also suddenly worried about how Mattheo would react. Last year, Theo had a surprise party and Mattheo was happy to help prepare it. But does that mean he wants one for himself?

You opened the door, and entered the silent house. Mattheo looked around the corridor, and put his bag full of sweets on the floor in order to take off his jacket.

“Is your mom here?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Let’s check the living room.”

Mattheo remained silent and approached said living room, and you had the biggest smile on your face when he suddenly stopped.

“Happy birthday!”

There was some cheering and applause, and Mattheo turned to you as you approached him.

“What-”

“It’s a surprise, Matty,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his confused face. “You deserved to have your friends and your brother with you today.”

He stared at you for a long minute, and you felt your heart beat faster, and he finally smiled at you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled back at him and gestured for him to go say hi to his friends, who were quick to wish him a happy birthday and greet him warmly, and his brother Tom, who was colder and more silent than the others. You looked around the room, and what your mother had done to decorate was incredible: there were numerous small fireworks up in the air alongside big golden letters saying “happy birthday Mattheo”, small decorations all around, and the long wooden table, usually bare, was also very much magically decorated. Mattheo hugged your mother to thank her while Pansy came closer to you. 

“Well done, dear. If you’ve put it together for a friend, I can’t wait to see what you will do when you’ll be dating him.”

“Don’t start,” you warmed her. “Mattheo and I have always been friends and will always be.” 

“We’ll see,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes and went closer to Mattheo. It was now time for him to blow out the candles and make a wish, and everyone was gathered around him as your mother brought his favourite cake decorated with whipped cream and full of magic candles.

“Happy birthday again, dear,” your mother smiled. “Make a wish.”

Mattheo closed his eyes for an instant and then blew out the candles. You applauded alongside the others, and everyone gave Mattheo their birthday gifts - books on Quidditch or history or wizards, Quidditch equipment, special quills, a watch - and then came your turn. Feeling your cheeks becoming red, you handed him your own gift, scared he might not like it. He unwrapped it and then saw the book.

“It’s, um, a photo album with some pictures we took along the years and, well, I wrote down some of my favourite memories with you.” 

You heard some whispers among Mattheo’s friends - his brother Tom remained silent - but your only focus was on Mattheo’s reaction. He turned some of the pages, smiled at some of the pictures and read the memories you wrote down - and the note you had also written him about how much he meant to you and how special you genuinely thought he was. After a moment of apparently being lost in thoughts, he gently put down the book on the table near the others books he got and looked at you to give you a half-smile.

“Thank you, y/n.”

He gave you a quick, strange hug, and then turned to his plate. Feeling confused, you wondered if he truly liked the gift. You went to sit between your mother and Lorenzo, and as you ate the cake, you looked sometimes as Mattheo, who was now the center of attention, and as time went by, you saw him switching from his usual, funny self to a more quiet, uneasy self, barely listening to what Theo was saying to him. You guessed he was feeling overwhelmed, and as the others finished their plates and went to sit on the sofas, you saw Mattheo mumbling an excuse before leaving the room to go to the garden. You wanted to follow him to make sure everything was fine, but you knew he probably needed some time alone. After a while, you finally went outside, and found him sitting in the grass, lost in thoughts. You approached him slowly before sitting down next to him.

“Are you okay, Matty?” 

He nodded, “Yes. Was it your idea to have this party?”

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Why?” 

“Thank you, y/n. It means a lot,” he looked at the grass before shaking his head. 

“You deserve it,” you said with a gentle voice. 

“Actually, I’m not sure,” Mattheo said in a low voice, his head now down.

You frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

Mattheo turned to you and had a small sigh.

“Honestly, y/n. You and your mum have already so much for me. Letting me live here, giving me gifts, being there for me, and now this…What did I ever give you back? Nothing.”

You opened your mouth, but it took a few seconds to answer. “Mattheo, have you not read what I wrote in the photo album?” 

He didn’t answer, still looking at the grass.

“Well?” you insisted. “What did the text say?”

“That you deeply cared about me,” he said, almost mumbling. “And that you thought of me as caring, and kind.”

“I meant it, alright?” you said in a more serious voice, wanting him to understand. “You’re the most exceptional person I know. You’re kind, gentle, funny, and caring. You’re a great friend to the boys, and you’re doing your best to have a good relationship with Tom, even when it’s not easy. You’re always there for me, you're always ready to spend time with me no matter the activity, and I know I always count on you whenever I need help or need comfort. You always know what to say, and you always listen to me when I have something to say. You’re also smart, and a damn good Quidditch player. I know you’re scared of becoming like your father, but I know you won’t. Because you two couldn’t be more different. And even if you started to be like him, we both know I’d smack some sense into you.” He had a hint of a smile and you went on, “Yes, sometimes you’re annoying and I think you love to fight too much, but nobody’s perfect, and I wouldn't want you to change for anything in the world. You’re the best person I know, Mattheo, and that’s why I’m in love with you.”

He whipped his head towards you, and that’s when you realised what you just said. 

Oh, no. Oh, no. Merlin, no.

“I…Just…Forget what I said.”

You quickly rose up and almost ran back to the house, but you suddenly felt a warm hand on your wrist. 

“Wait!” Mattheo said, “What the hell, you can’t leave like that after saying that to me.”

“Yes I can,” you retorted, panicking, “and that’s what I’m doing, just…forget it happened, alright?”

Mattheo let go of your wrist to run a hand through his dark curls. 

“But, y/n, I can’t forget,” he said, frowning, as if it was obvious, “and I don’t want to. Did you really mean it?”

“Mattheo, I…”

“y/n, please,” he cut off more severely, both his voice and eyes now pleading. “Please, answer me.”

Doing your best to not look at him, you hesitated before nodding, feeling the need to disappear. He looked at you in a strange way, and you wondered what he was going to say.

“Look, Mattheo,” you started, “I know our f…”

“I love you too.”

It was now you turn to look at him with confusion. “What?”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “You’re…all I want, and all I need. You said this house is my home, but the truth is, you’re my home.” 

All of a sudden, he stepped closer to you and brought his hand to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with all the gentleness in the world. You wondered what you should do next -  put your hand on his? Put your own hand on his cheek? - but he made the decision for you, suddenly lowering his head towards yours.

“Fuck, y/n…”

And after that whisper, he pressed his lips on yours. It took you a few seconds to kiss him back, but when you did, he immediately grabbed your waist to pull you closer before putting a hand on the back of your neck. You let out a moan, and he deepened the kiss. You had a hard time believing what you had been dreaming for years now was actually happening but at the same time, Mattheo’s lips on yours and his hands on your body was all you could feel, all you could think about and all that mattered. When he finally pulled away, you were both out of breath. 

“Does you saying that you love me and this kiss count as two more birthday gifts?” he suddenly asked. 

“If you want,” you laughed. 

“Then, it really is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again before taking you into his arms, holding you as if he died if he let go. You held him as well, feeling that, wherever you were, Mattheo was also your home. 

Want to be on the permanent tag-list or for specific characters/fandoms? Feel free to use my Ask-Box!

Next projects

Masterlist

[mistresscitrusslice]

Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.

You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)

The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.

I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.

Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?

“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.

I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.

It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.

More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.

Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.

Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows

Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't

S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.

The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.

No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.

But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.

1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?

2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's

Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?

She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.

Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?

Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:

But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.

[juxi2218]

TOWEL TROUBLE!!!

Fushiguro megumi x reader ( 1.3k )

Warnings: English is not my first language, please bear with my ass; I'm trying to improve it by writing for my pookie gumi!!! (Feel free to correct any grammatical mistakes I may have made) (Might delete it later if it flops lol)

A little preview for yall: “wh-what are you doing?” he panics. You smirk slightly. “What? Am I not supposed to hug my own boyfriend?” you move your head from his nape to his shoulder, trying to get a look at him. His cheeks flush crimson and his eyebrows furrow in a cute little scowl, and he’s still staring fixedly at his cupboard.

You and Megumi stumbled into his apartment, both of you soaked from the rain. Today was your date and it was going well until the rain stormed in. You had been at a café and neither of you had an umbrella so you had to run to his place, which was close by. The cozy apartment was a welcome respite from the storm outside.

“Ugh, I hate getting wet” you murmur to yourself as you finish untying your shoe lace; and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Megumi. He gives you a glance and says “you can go have a shower first. I’ll lend you some of my clothes.” Your ears perk up and you go give him a peck on his cheek.

“Thanks a lot gumi!!”

“Yea, it’s nothing” he says while his cheeks show a visible blush of hot pink. You chuckle a bit before running to his bathroom for a warm and peaceful shower.

It hasn’t been long since you both started dating. Say, it’s been a few months and it sure was hard to get this man to open up. Your relationship started when he came sprinting to you one day, assuming the love letter was a confession from you to your other male friend. However, unbeknownst to him, you were actually playing matchmaker and had agreed to deliver the letter on nobara’s behalf.

Nobara had requested that you give the letter to the other guy, but Megumi got hold of it instead and, unaware of the truth, tore it into pieces. You and the other guy were shocked until Megumi confessed that he likes you. You had a good laugh and explained him what actually was happening. He turned red. You still remember his stupid face from that time.

All red and cute.

He apologised to you both and ran away. The next day, you reached out to him and boom! You guys started dating.

Yeah sure, the confession wasn’t the grand, romantic type you’ve imagined, nor did it unfold like a scene from your favourite movie or book. But despite that, you’re grateful as you never expected him to confess his feelings to you first.

It was really slow at first. The shy pinky holds gradually turned into hands intertwined, progressing to gentle hugs. Yes, you both have kissed for 5 times already and you were the one who initiated it because you know that this poor man would go nuts if he had to make a move on you first. He knew that you were a little bold when it comes to these things, and he had zero complaints with it. He’s so shy, you want to bite him to nothing!! (This man is making me go weak in my knees istg.)

You come out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body, hot steam rising from your skin. 

“Gumi! I’m done showe- OUCH!” the man threw one of his sweatshirts at your face.

“Don’t just come out wearing nothing like that!”

“I’ve got a towel wrapped around me you idiot! And why’d you have to throw this at my face?!” you say while rubbing your poor face. As you regain your composure, your eyes roam around his bare chest showcasing his abs (chap 156 argh I’m so proud of my guy) and a pair of black trousers hanging loosely from his hips not failing to show his V line. You were practically drooling over the marvellous sight in front of you.

“you’re naked too!!” you exclaim.

“What? I’m decent? “.

“Huh? You’re only wearing your pants.” You point at his lower half and pout.

“Whatever, just go and change.” He exhales softly, closing his eyes. He then turns his back to you and closes the door of his cupboard while murmuring a few curse words to himself.

You cheekily sneak up to him, wrap your hands around his waist, and rest your forehead against his nape.

“wh-what are you doing?” he panics.

You smirk slightly. “What? Am I not supposed to hug my own boyfriend?” you move your head from his nape to his shoulder, trying to get a look at him. His cheeks flush crimson and his eyebrows furrow in a cute little scowl, and he’s still staring fixedly at his cupboard.

“Shut up” he mutters.

You smile, your grin growing wider as you tease him. He sighs. “I told you to go and change.” He looks at you, then swiftly turns his head away, avoiding eye contact as he takes in your damp hair and the scent of his body wash radiating from your skin. Your hand slides around the other side of his shoulder, gently coaxing his face back towards you. “But I wanna hug you!!” you whine, pouting.

“Yes,” he breathes, his tone husky as he nods, “yes you can do it after getting changed, yeah?” he says, his voice weakening. You shake your head, “yes, but!” you pout again, giving him your most innocent puppy eyes. You can’t help but feel a little mischievous as you keep him wrapped around your fingers.

“Stop being stubborn.”

“I like to hug you like this!”

“y/n, jus- “

“Do whatever you want! I’m not gonna step back!” you retreat your arms from his shoulders and tighten them around his waist.

With only a towel separating your skins, heat surges through his body as he feels your chest pressed against his bare back.

His head spins, and he’s overcome with a sense of weakness. He feels like he’s going to faint. His head is numb.

He doesn’t know what to do, but his body seems to have developed a mind of his own.

“Whatever I want huh?” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He takes hold of your hands, pinning them against the cupboard on either side if your head as his grip intensifies, your back pressed firmly against the cupboard’s surface.

You look at him with wide shocked eyes.

Your towel slips from the grasp you had (now gone) and you gasp in unison as Megumi’s hand reaches down to steady it (before the disaster). You feel your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look down.

His hand wraps around both of yours, holding captive as his other hand still cradles your dear towel, holding you close. You feel your heart beating wildly, racing at an alarming rate... You’re sure it’s going to burst out if you don’t get your shit together. You feel hot, incredibly hot; like all your senses are heightened. The warmth of his skin, the rush of blood to your head. This man is going to be the death of you.

You gaze up at him, and his cerulean eyes lock onto yours, sending a cold shiver down your spine. You feel your face grow hot as he looks down at your lips, his gaze piercing and intense.

You feel heat creeping up your face. He leans in. You close your eyes. You swear you can hear your heart begging you to set it free so it can go jump off a roof.

He stops when he’s an inch away from your lips, his breath warm against your plush. “If you don’t stop this, I can’t promise where this will lead us” He warns.

Shivers run down your spine again at the sudden change in his demeanor and his deep voice sending a thrill through your entire body. He lingers there for a few seconds and pulls away while a proud smirk paints his face so as to tease the shit out of you.

You flutter your eyes open as your hands move to hold your towel and watch him as he walks into the bathroom, leaving you feeling frustrated and flustered.

“Hmph! asshole” you mutter to yourself.

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off these fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and that he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lips tremble before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your back gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you wash up, then dry off, and put your clothes on. You could almost cry from his attentiveness.

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him gratefully and lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and you hold each other for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room.

There, the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[deliciousangelfestival]

We're Not Okay - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x veterinarian!Female Reader

Summary: Two people, each carrying their own trauma, find themselves in a place where they can begin to heal their wounds and mend their hearts together.

Words Count: 3,400

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“This is the first time I’ve heard a fox's voice,” said your father, Toni, as he shivered, pulling his jacket suit tighter around himself. The cold air bit at both of you as snow threatened to fall. Toni, at 50 years old, stood taller than you, his grey hair contrasting against the bleak sky.

He kept close behind as you worked at the conservation center, his eyes darting downward to ensure his pristine Italian leather shoes avoided mud or puddles. Unlike him, you wore a rugged outdoor outfit, complete with sturdy boots, befitting your role as a veterinarian and co-owner of the conservation—a job you’d been committed to since leaving home at seventeen.

“You could have waited in the visitor’s room,” you said, glancing over your shoulder while examining the fox.

“I can’t,” he replied, his voice tinged with anxiousness.

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention back to the fox—a sleek creature with bright orange fur streaked with hints of white, its ears flicking nervously as you checked for injuries. Its amber eyes watched you warily, a mix of fear and exhaustion evident.

Once your work was done, you exited the cage with Toni following closely. Both of you headed toward the main house, the crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the tense silence.

Toni’s eyes caught something unusual. “Wow. What’s that?” He pointed toward a cage set apart from the rest.

“Wait…! Don’t go near—” you shouted, but it was too late. Toni had already stepped closer.

“AHH!” He fell to the ground, his face pale and eyes wide. He trembled as he stared at the creature inside.

The white wolf looked directly at him, its majestic fur glistening like freshly fallen snow. Though intimidating with its piercing blue eyes and muscular build, it limped, favoring one injured leg.

You rushed over and dragged your father away from the cage. “I can’t even get close to him,” you muttered, exasperated.

Toni stood, brushing the dirt from his customized jacket, his face a mixture of frustration and fear. “I’ve been spat on, peed on, and now nearly eaten by the animals here.”

“Why are you even here if you hate it so much?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just like my two older brothers. They come here, disrupt my work, and complain.”

“Ew… this place stinks. How do you stand it?” your first brother had sneered on his last visit.

“This owl is interesting. Do you sell them? I know plenty of people who’d pay,” the second one had added.

“GET OUT!” you’d yelled, seething with fury.

All the men in your family despised the outdoors. City people, through and through, they were consumed with managing their nightclub empire—a world you had rejected wholeheartedly. That life, everything they represented, was what drove you away to this sanctuary of yours.

Toni shifted nervously, glancing at you with rare vulnerability. It was an odd sight—the formidable nightclub owner and fierce businessman, now reduced to unease in your presence.

“Here’s the thing. I need… No.” He shook his head and corrected himself, “We need your help.”

“Me?” You arched an eyebrow. “How?” The question dripped with skepticism. You, a conservationist and veterinarian, had severed ties with their business long ago.

“Because of COVID-19, many businesses have been hit hard, including ours,” Toni said, his shoulders sagging.

You crossed your arms tighter, a flicker of resentment surfacing. After you’d left home, you’d turned a blind eye to everything related to their business. “Well, good. I hope that place burns to the ground.”

Toni’s face fell. “I know you hate it, but it’s my livelihood.” He sighed deeply. “Business is bad. There’s a chance it’ll go bankrupt.”

“Then sell it,” you said with a dismissive wave. “Most men your age are enjoying retirement.”

“Bah! No. I’m still in my prime!” He straightened his back defensively.

“Get to the point. What do you want?” you demanded.

“There’s someone willing to invest. But… there’s a catch,” Toni admitted, his eyes pleading. “Do you know Barnes?”

“Hmm… Yeah. The family that donates a lot to wildlife causes, including this place.”

“That’s right.” Toni nodded eagerly.

“So Barnes wants to invest in your nightclub?” You were incredulous. “Why?”

“That’s how Barnes gets richer—diversifying. And they’ve chosen our business. But there’s a condition.” Toni’s expression grew grave.

A pit formed in your stomach. Whatever it was, you knew it couldn’t be good.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

“The Barneses want to send their oldest grandchild here,” said Toni, his voice low as if dreading your reaction.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly. “This isn’t a daycare or rehab facility for humans.”

“I know, I know.” He raised his hands defensively. “That’s what I’ve been telling them. But they won’t budge. If I don’t bring their grandchild here, they won’t invest in the nightclub.”

“Ridiculous!” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “Why drag me into this? The animals here are victims, and this place is their sanctuary, not some personal favor zone.”

“I knew you’d hate it,” Toni said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I thought you might change your mind after hearing me out.”

You crossed your arms, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m all ears. What kind of offer could possibly make me reconsider?”

“This… isn’t easy for me,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “But I’ll give you what you’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll remove you from the family registry.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wow. You must really need this investment.”

Toni nodded, his shoulders slumping, revealing the weight of his desperation. “But you don’t…” His voice faltered, as if hoping you’d ask for anything else instead of severing family ties completely.

“Fine.” The single word was delivered coolly as you turned on your heel, walking away without looking back. Toni’s face fell, his hope visibly deflated.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he called out, his voice cracking slightly. “That you want nothing to do with us?”

You stopped mid-step, your back still to him. “I do.” The words were blunt and final, hitting him like a physical blow.

A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustling of the wind. “Because of you, I’m reminded of that incident,” you said quietly, more to yourself than him, before walking away, leaving him standing there, hurt and alone.

That night, sleep eluded you. Memories from your childhood swirled in your mind, refusing to let you rest. Growing up as the child of a nightclub owner was no fairytale. Your home was a chaotic tangle of bright lights and dark secrets. You’d seen things a child shouldn’t—dangerous deals, late-night arguments, drunken patrons—and it left scars.

The confusion was only magnified by two stepmothers and two stepbrothers. Making a family tree in school was always a nightmare. That business stole away what innocence you had left. That was why you fled, finding solace in the simplicity and quiet resilience of animals.

"Owooooooo," A wolf’s howl pierced the still night air, low and haunting.

The sound sent a chill down your spine but also pulled you from your thoughts. Grabbing your jacket, you decided to check on the white wolf.

The wolf’s enclosure was isolated from the others. Previously placed near the fox, it had made every nearby animal skittish and restless, so it was moved here. The wolf stood under the pale moonlight, its white fur glistening like freshly fallen snow, every movement tinged with raw strength despite the noticeable limp in its gait. It tilted its head back and howled again, a mournful, soul-stirring sound.

You stepped closer to the cage, your breath fogging in the cold air. The white wolf’s piercing blue eyes locked onto you, unblinking. When it first arrived, it had been painfully thin, its ribs visible under its fur, and its injured leg had been in dire condition. Despite its weakened state, it had always reacted with hostility—growling, baring its sharp teeth whenever you approached.

You stopped just outside the cage’s boundary. “Can’t sleep?” you asked softly. “Me neither.”

The wolf let out another long, mournful howl, as if acknowledging your words. Its gaze was intense, wary, but something flickered in its eyes—pain, maybe even recognition.

“You’ve been hurt a lot,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. The wolf’s ears twitched, a small but telling sign that it was listening, though its muscles remained taut, ready to spring at the first hint of danger. You leaned against the cold metal bars, feeling the chill seep through your jacket. The wolf’s intense gaze never wavered, its blue eyes seeming to pierce right through you, mirroring a pain you recognized all too well. This raw, unfiltered connection made the air feel heavier, the silence more profound.

This was why you worked here. It wasn’t just about caring for wounded animals; it was about caring for yourself. The conservation was a sanctuary, not only for those with fur and feathers but for a heart battered by memories of your past.

Every injured creature, every frightened animal you helped heal, was a step toward mending yourself. You’d left a life that was full of noise, chaos, and hollow family ties that never really felt like home. Here, there was simplicity in purpose and purity in your connection with these beings—no lies, no hidden motives, only survival, trust, and the instinctual drive to heal.

When you saw the wolf growl and lash out in fear or defiance, you understood. Its isolation mirrored your own self-imposed solitude. You, too, had learned to push others away to protect yourself. In mending its wounds, in helping it trust again, you hoped to do the same for yourself. Piece by piece. Scar by scar.

You sighed, your breath visible in the cold air. “It’s going to be okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than the wolf. It didn’t respond, of course, but its ears twitched again. You let yourself believe that, maybe, it understood on some level. Maybe, just like you, it wanted to believe that healing was possible—even after so much pain.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

The inside of the luxurious jeep exuded opulence—soft leather seats, dark wood paneling, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mingling with polished leather. In the spacious backseat sat two men.

One of them, Jimmy Barnes, carried himself with a commanding presence. His gray hair was impeccably styled, and lines of experience etched his face, giving him the aura of a leader used to control. Everything about him, from the sharp cut of his suit to his steely gaze, spoke of power and purpose.

Beside him, his eldest son, James Buchanan Barnes—known as Bucky—stared blankly out the window. The passing landscape rolled by, ignored and unremarked upon, as the silence between father and son stretched uncomfortably. The trip had already dragged on for four hours, and not a single word had passed between them.

Jimmy shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He glanced at Bucky, his eyes softening momentarily before hardening again as he struggled to maintain composure. He drew a breath and spoke, his voice firm but tinged with an edge of weariness.

“Bucky.”

There was no response. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the blur of trees outside, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

Jimmy clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the cane resting against his knee. He let out a deep sigh, exhaling the frustration he’d been holding. “Bucky,” he repeated, more gently this time. Still nothing. Jimmy's shoulders sagged slightly, a rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

Bucky, his firstborn from his marriage to his late first wife, hadn’t spoken a word in years. As a child, something had happened—something that had stolen his voice and left scars too deep for therapists and experts to reach.

Every attempt to coax him out of his silence had met with failure. Over time, Bucky had also developed acute anxiety around people, making even the simplest social interactions a nightmare. Recently, though, they’d discovered a sliver of hope: Bucky seemed calmer, even a little more at ease, around animals.

Jimmy’s thoughts drifted back to his meeting with Toni. What had started as a business discussion quickly shifted when Toni mentioned his daughter—a veterinarian with her own conservation center. The idea had taken root then and there.

This might be what Bucky needed. It was a desperate measure, but Jimmy would go to any length to see his son improve—for Bucky’s sake, and for the sake of their family legacy.

Jimmy shifted again, leaning closer to Bucky, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “We’re going somewhere different today,” he said, trying to inject warmth into his tone. “You’ll like it. Animals, open air… it’s good.”

Bucky didn’t move, but a slight tension in his shoulders betrayed that he’d heard. The silence lingered heavily between them, but Jimmy took it as a small victory. He leaned back, looking out his own window, his expression hardening once more. He needed this to work. Bucky had to get better—for himself, for the company, and for the legacy he would one day inherit.

The jeep rolled on, carrying them both toward an uncertain future.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

When Jimmy and Bucky arrived, the scene was more than just a simple visit; it was practically an event. The luxurious jeep pulled up, its polished exterior gleaming even in the muted light. Two men stepped out, flanked by a small team of guards who maintained a cautious but respectful distance. You observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Guards? It felt excessive.

Toni walked over with a strained smile, clearly trying to mask his nerves. He gestured toward the older man with an air of forced calm. “This is Jimmy Barnes,” Toni said, his voice firm but tinged with unease. “Jimmy, this is my daughter.”

You extended a hand politely, meeting Jimmy’s piercing gaze. His handshake was strong, controlled—a man used to holding power. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, maintaining eye contact.

Jimmy nodded once, his expression unreadable. “Thank you for having us,” he replied. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Of course,” you said, feeling the weight of his words. There was a formality in his tone, but a glimmer of desperation lingered beneath. You turned your attention to the younger man beside him. “And you must be Bucky.” You spoke gently, but Bucky didn’t respond. He barely seemed to register your presence, his gaze fixed on the ground or wandering elsewhere.

Jimmy’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He shifted his weight, a sign of his frustration, though he kept his voice even. “Bucky,” he said again, a touch softer this time. There was no answer. Only the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind.

You looked at Jimmy, feeling the tension simmering beneath the surface. “He can take his time,” you offered quietly, hoping to ease the pressure. “There’s no rush here.”

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Thank you,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s… difficult. You understand.”

“I do,” you nodded, choosing your words carefully. “We all need space to find our way. Animals teach me that every day.”

Bucky, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, took a few hesitant steps toward the enclosures. You and Jimmy watched as he moved, his posture guarded but curious.

“He’s calmer around animals,” Jimmy said, almost to himself. There was a mix of hope and despair in his voice. “People make it… harder.”

You nodded, choosing to focus on Bucky. “I’ve seen it happen before,” you said quietly. “Sometimes, animals understand what we can’t.”

Jimmy studied you for a moment, as if weighing your words. “I hope you’re right,” he said finally, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his otherwise controlled exterior. “This has to work.”

“It’s a journey,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “There are no guarantees. But we’ll do our best.”

As Bucky moved closer to the enclosures, something strange happened—the animals turned their attention to him. Every single one of them stopped what they were doing and sat down, as if sensing something unseen. You blinked in surprise, feeling a chill run down your spine. This wasn’t normal behavior.

The white wolf, isolated from the rest due to its intimidating presence, suddenly stood. Its pristine fur gleamed in the sunlight as it limped toward Bucky. You held your breath, instinctively stepping forward in case something went wrong. But Bucky extended a hand, slow and gentle. The wolf hesitated for a brief moment before closing the distance, nudging Bucky’s hand with its nose. Your eyes widened. This was the first time the white wolf had willingly approached anyone. Even you—who spent countless hours caring for it—had never been received this way. It always kept its distance, aloof and wary.

Jimmy watched the scene unfold, his eyes brightening with a mix of hope and disbelief. He turned to you, his voice low but firm. “I have a feeling this place can help him.” There was a pause, heavy with meaning. “If it does, I’ll donate a substantial sum to support your work here.”

“Thank… thank you,” you managed, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. You inclined your head, feeling the weight of his words settle on your shoulders.

Jimmy nodded and began to walk back to the car, the guards moving in step with him. Toni lingered for a moment. He stepped closer, his expression softened as he took your hand. “Please,” he whispered, his grip warm but trembling slightly. “Help me this time.”

You bit your lip, uncertainty swirling within you. “I’m still not sure about this.”

Toni’s eyes met yours, a mixture of hope and desperation. “You can do this. You’ve always managed to handle things on your own.” He gave you a thumbs up, a strained but genuine smile on his lips, before turning to follow Jimmy.

You watched him go, your heart tightening. “No, I’m not,” you whispered to yourself, your shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation pressed down. Outwardly, you might appear strong and unshakable, but inside, the scars of the past left you vulnerable and weary. Every act of strength was a battle, every decision a reminder of what you had to protect.

When the car disappeared from view, you turned your attention back to Bucky.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

You and Bucky stood in awkward silence after the initial introductions. The air was heavy, almost stifling, as you struggled to find the right words. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder, his expression distant and unreadable. Finally, you sighed softly, deciding to break the silence.

“Come on,” you said gently, gesturing for him to follow. “Let me show you your room.”

Bucky fell into step behind you, his movements quiet but tense. As you walked, you explained, “We keep things pretty simple around here. Meals are communal. Everyone—workers, volunteers—we all eat together.” You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “You don’t have to join if you’re not ready. No pressure.”

Bucky’s only response was a brief nod. It was mechanical, almost detached, but at least it was acknowledgment. You offered a small smile, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “There’s food available whenever you want it,” you continued softly. “And if you need anything, just let me know.”

He said nothing, his eyes wandering to the walls as if searching for an escape. You let out a quiet breath, your heart heavy. You knew this kind of pain—it mirrored the animals you cared for here. The ones who recoiled from touch, who couldn’t trust, who flinched at the slightest movement. Healing took time. It required patience, and you were prepared to give him both. You just hoped he’d let you.

When night fell, the dining room filled with the usual chatter of workers and volunteers unwinding from the day. You scanned the room but didn’t see Bucky. It wasn’t surprising—socializing with strangers was probably overwhelming for him. Silently, you prepared a tray of food and carried it to his room, setting it carefully in front of the door. You didn’t knock. You didn’t want to intrude. Instead, you walked away quietly, hoping he would eat when he was ready.

As you settled into your own bed later that night, a strange unease crept over you. The quiet felt oppressive—too quiet. Usually, the white wolf’s mournful howls punctuated the stillness, a sound you’d grown oddly comforted by. Tonight, there was nothing. It gnawed at you, pulling you from bed and urging you out into the night.

Your steps quickened as you made your way toward the white wolf’s enclosure. The moon cast pale light over the grounds, and there, standing face to face with the wolf, was Bucky.

Neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, as if sharing an unspoken language that only they could understand. The wolf’s icy-blue eyes were locked onto Bucky, unblinking, while Bucky’s expression was raw, a mixture of pain and something else you couldn’t quite name—recognition, perhaps.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. “Hi…” you said softly, taking slow, cautious steps forward. You didn’t want to startle either of them.

Bucky flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping toward you. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, you saw fear flash across his face. He turned and bolted, his footsteps muffled by the grass. As he disappeared into the shadows, the white wolf turned its attention to you. It let out a low, warning growl, its body tense and protective.

'What was that?' You froze, raising your hands slowly in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” you murmured, though your pulse raced. The wolf’s eyes never left you, its growl deepening. You felt like an intruder—like you’d interrupted something sacred.

What had just happened? Why did it feel like you were the outsider, the third party in whatever silent connection Bucky and the wolf shared?

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[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER NINE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

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kalena speakss 🪽! chapter in honor of game day! but it’s not looking too good for our faves i fear.

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“Can you open the door?”

“In a second, K! Be patient!”

“We need to talk, open this door!” Kaylee yells, her fist pounding against the door.

I groan, tugging on some sweatpants and a shirt over my recently moisturized body. I had just gotten back from my pilates class, fresh out of a shower when she called and told me she’d be visiting.

I throw open the door, stumbling over my pant leg. “What?”

“We need to talk about your birthday show.”

The show is something we’ve been planning all year, music is what I love and I wanted to spend my birthday doing what I loved. But still, this show has been finalized for weeks, so I huff at Kaylee irritatedly. She dragged me out of the shower and banged on my door to talk about this?

“What about it, K?”

“So Summer backed out.” She starts, walking into my condo and dropping her bag on the table. She stands in my kitchen, pulling her work phone out of her pocket and setting the other on the counter. “Something came up, but I got KWN to take her spot.”

“That all could’ve been a text message. Or a phone call.” I laugh, pulling my hair over my shoulder so it would stop dripping down my back. “Why are you here?”

“What, you don’t want me here? Julian around or something?”

My eyes can’t help but roll at the mention. Not because of him, but because of the serious beef between the two.

“No he’s at a conference in Philly— are you guys ever gonna figure out your problems, by the way?” I question with a giggle. I turn around, my back facing Kaylee as I walk into my living room allowing her to make herself at home.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between me or herself even though I’m waiting for a response. When I look up from my spot on the couch her eyes are small, squinting at me. Kaylee is chewing on her bottom lip as she approaches me, gears turning in her head.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about the cameras last night.” She says. “You sure you didn’t mess with it?”

I try to avoid looking at her. I’m a good liar, but Kaylee has known me since I was 18, I can’t lie to her anymore. She’s suspicious, and though I don’t know of what it’s still incredibly nerve wracking.

“Yeah. Not at all.” Which technically isn’t a lie, I never touched that button, Paige did.

Kaylee nods, her head tilting back and forth like she’s weighing odds in her head. “And what’s his name is in Philly, yes?”

“Yes. Kaylee, what’s up with all the—”

The way she slouches on the couch next to me is exaggerated, a small thump when she cuts me off. “So then who gave you that hickey, Raye? Or all of them.”

In all honesty, I could’ve kept the lie going. I should’ve kept it going. I could act clueless, or tell her it was a bug bite, or that Julian left it a while ago. So many things I could’ve said but I chose to sit there quietly. The words piling on my tongue and dying there.

“Raye, I’m not gonna be mad. Just let me know now, so I can handle it if I need to.” She reassures me.

“No, no, you’re definitely gonna be mad.”

“Was it Paige?” I open my mouth to speak before kissing my teeth. When I make eye contact with her, she’s covering her mouth incredulously. “Raye, no.” She whines.

“I’m sorry!” I start apologizing, but in my heart I know I don’t regret anything.

“You’re gay?”

“I don’t think that’s the most important topic at hand.”

“Right, sorry.” She laughs, covering her mouth and brushing it off.

Even though I can feel her eyes burning holes in the side of my neck, I should feel embarrassed but all I can think about in my head is the manner in which the blonde left those marks on my neck.

I keep replaying that moment when I got home. Heavily buzzed and exhausted, standing in front of the mirror with my hand running across the tender skin. And the moment immediately following when Paige filled my phone with more teasing texts messages.

I remember even before then, when she was laying me down and feeling me up. Being so fucking vulgar in my ears as she told me what she wanted to do to me. So forward and nasty towards me.

The marks on my neck were a bright red last night that transformed into a deep purple when I woke up this morning. It was obvious that Paige was awfully proud of her work and how flustered she got me. After Kaylee walked in and we sat there on the couch, that smirk never seemed to leave her face.

“Those pictures. Were you guys—”

“No, we weren’t doing anything then. I promise.” I reassured. Kaylee isn’t even angry when she looks at me, but her eyes are disappointed; I’ve known her long enough to know that look. “I dunno, she just makes me feel different.”

I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself. Kaylee simply wouldn’t understand why I chose to cheat on my pretty decent human being of a boyfriend, for a girl I’ve known for a month and a half. There really isn’t an explanation or excuse to be given. I made a mistake. A really bad one, but even then it doesn’t feel like it.

Paige doesn’t feel like a mistake, I couldn’t ever classify her as one.

The woman next to me straightens up, her elbows resting on her knees. She puts her head in her hands, thinking of what to say to me. “Different? You have feelings for her? Or are you guys just hooking up?”

“We haven’t slept together, K.”

She raises her head gingerly. “Wait so...” Kaylee begins. Her body turns to face me, suddenly I’m even more aware of the bruises on my neck. “You’re telling me, you and her have been kissing and hanging out or whatever. Telling me that you’re just friends, when you’re not. But you haven’t slept with her and might have feelings for her?”

“It’s complicated, Kaylee. I—”

“It’s messy, Raye, that’s what it is!” She runs her fingers through her short brunette hair. “You can’t be putting yourself in scandals like this. What if Julian finds out and runs to the blogs? Or if Paige outs your little affair to someone.”

I don’t hesitate to defend Paige with my first breath. “She wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You don’t know that! Y’think she can’t be pillow talking someone else right now?”

I haven’t even thought about the possibility of Paige doing all this with someone else. She isn’t like that, right? Rumors supporting that idea exist, sure, but that isn’t who she is.

“You’re still with Julian while messing with her. You think she isn’t messing with someone else either?” Kaylee practically digs the knife in deeper. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head, Raye you know better than that.”

I do know better. I’ve always put my career first, but all it took was some icy blue eyes and blond hair to make me lose all my common sense.

I tear my eyes away from her, staring down at my hands. It feels like the weight of the world was sitting on my chest. “Fucking hell.” I mumble under my breath.

“You need to make a choice, babe. It can’t be both, you know that.”

I let out a loud groan, being forced to come to terms with all of this. “Yeah, I know.” I huff. I deserve this, I made this mess, let Paige get this close when I knew I shouldn’t have.

She was always there, everything I ever went through with Julian, Paige was the ear I needed. And because of that she weaved her way into my life and threaded a giant knot that I was left to untangle.

Then there’s Julian. Who even passed all the yelling is still the sweetheart I fell for in the first place. Lifting me up, and supporting me through it all. Yet, I still went out of my way to hurt him over and over again.

I’m fucking screwed.

—

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—

June 2025 — Malibu, California

“Two minutes is crazy, P.”

“Shut up. Quit being nosy.” I responded.

We played the Storm at home tonight, adding another much needed win to our season. As a result, Nika sits across from me at our table at Nobu, a much needed catch up with my good friend.

“I’m not! I wanted to talk to you about it anyway.” Nika hums. She’s smirking at me by the time I pocket my phone in my brown pants. “Those photos look like you got a lil girlfriend.”

“Definitely not a girlfriend. It’s complicated, Nik.” I answer, reaching for my passion fruit drink and taking a sip. “She got a boyfriend.”

Nika’s jaw drops as she looks at me. Maraye and Julian’s relationship is still surprisingly kept out of the public eye. I had to applaud her for it, I didn’t think she would be able to pull it off with how much Julian had been nagging her.

“Are you being serious.” Nika asks me. Our server comes back to the table with our food. I smile, muttering a thank you and taking my plate of Wagyu salad.

“Oh yeah. Deadass serious.”

“Paige.”

“I swear it’s not my fault.” I shake my head in defense. “She just— it’s literally impossible to stay away from her, bro.”

Nika doesn’t even try to stop the cackle that leaves her throat, ridiculing me and I can’t help but laugh with her. If I wasn’t in this position, I probably would’ve been laughing at myself too. Down bad over a girl who’s in a relationship, and allegedly straight. It’s truly comical.

“Oh my God, you’re pussy whipped!”

“Chill!” I scold, kicking her leg under the table in an attempt to quiet her down from yelling obscenities in this nice ass restaurant. “I haven’t even had sex with her, Nik. This ain’t what you think it is.”

She feeds a piece of sushi into her mouth. “You know what this reminds me of?” Nika asks, tapping her chopstick against the ceramic plate. “This reminds me of Nyla.”

I stop digging into my salad and roll my eyes at the mention of her name. The mention of the girl who I had been seeing for a large part of my college career. We’d slept together for a while, then I caught feelings and made it complicated. In all honesty you could blame Nyla for my lack of dating, but this wasn’t that.

Maraye wasn’t anything like Nyla whatsoever. I truly believed that.

“There’s been many other girls since Nyla, y’know that right?” I explain, my lips moving into a tight line.

“Ew, I don’t need to know about your slut activities, P.” She brushes me off.

“You asked!” I counter.

“My point is, you’re letting yourself get in too deep again.” She tells me and I turn my attention back to my food. “I’m not your mom. Explore, get to know people, I don’t care. But exploring with the straight girl, with a man is gonna get you hurt, P.”

My leg bounces soundly under the table. It’s a weird feeling, because in my heart I know Maraye is nothing like Nyla. But at the same time, we’re doing all that we’re doing while she goes back home to Julian.

“I can never figure her out.” I start, catching Nika slightly off guard. “I dunno if she likes me, or if she just wants sex, or if I’m jus’ a distraction for him.”

“You caught feelings for her, didn’t you.”

I hate that word. Feelings. I hate admitting them, I hate feeling them.

I think I do have feelings for Raye. She’s all I ever seem to be thinking about nowadays. I’m searching for her in everyone else. When someone laughs I’m thinking that it doesn’t sound like hers, or how someone’s perfume doesn’t smell as good as her’s does.

“I feel something for her, that’s for damn sure.” I shrug, mouth full of some fancy steak. “I needa clear my head, I’m never thinking straight when it comes to her.”

Nika stifles a giggle, covering her mouth with her palm.

“What?” I ask.

“Not thinking straight. Get it.”

I stare blankly before shaking my head. This was the person who I was trusting to give me advice. “Ha ha, dyke joke. Real funny Nik.”

“You said it, not me!” The giggles some more before finally pulling herself together. “All I’m saying, is that you don’t deserve to get hurt again. Take some time, figure it all out, and then be honest with her.”

I nod, taking it all in. Maraye is amazing in all ways possible, and I shamelessly want her to myself. But unfortunately that just isn’t the case. She isn’t my own, she belongs to someone else. I keep telling myself that I have to respect that, but it just becomes harder and harder every damn day.

I don’t know how to be second best. I’ve never been second best or allowed myself to be that. Whether it’s basketball or anything else in life, I’d rather be dead last than second best.

So to know that Julian is Maraye’s first choice, and I’m forced to be second is fucking unbearable.

Maybe I do need space. Figure out what it is I want from her and move forward from there. I don’t know how to do that though. I was fucking miserable that week where she wasn’t texting me, now I need space. Funny how that works.

“P?”

“Hmm?”

“You good?” Nika asks, spicy mayo at the corner of her lips.

I nod, feeling my mood slightly diminish just thinking about all this. “Yeah, fine. How’s recovery goin’?” I ask, changing the subject and moving the spotlight off of myself.

[nocasdatsgay]

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 

“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled. 

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 

There was a break in the letter and she added. 

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 

She is awake. a shadow whispered. 

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 

“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 

She nodded and he winnowed away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 

“You came back,” Eris whispered. 

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“She’s not coming back.” 

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 

You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 

Part 3

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well

cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao

word count: 1800

an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl

you are so real for that anon

When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.

He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.

"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."

Oh.

Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.

But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.

"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."

"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"

"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."

It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.

Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.

"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."

"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."

"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."

So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.

Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.

"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."

"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."

"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."

"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."

"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."

He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.

"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."

"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."

Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.

A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.

Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.

With one exception.

At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.

He was withering, quietly and alone.

Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.

Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.

He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.

At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.

"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."

"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."

"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."

Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.

"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.

The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.

He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.

"She sent photos, too! Look!"

Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.

“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.

Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.

Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.

“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”

Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Your Arranged Marriage Series

Part 2: Geto Suguru

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: You’ve always carried the weight of the Zenin name, struggling to live up to a family legacy that crushes more than it elevates. When your father demands you marry one of the few special-grade sorcerers at Jujutsu High or suffer a punishment too brutal to consider, you almost give up. Until Geto Suguru makes that decicion for you...

Warnings: reader is a member of the Zenin family so a lot of trauma lol, physical abuse, so much drama but a ton of fluff in the end, Suguru is our husband y'all

„(y/n).“

It started out like any other normal day at jujutsu high. Going to the classroom with Nanami and Yu, giving it all you’ve got despite the fact that you didn’t make it past grade 3 since you’ve started studying here, meeting up with Suguru and Satoru during break.

It’s been a comfortable life, more than you could have ever asked for. After all, you are none other than the daughter of the Zenin clan’s leader. The one who’s supposed to carry on a family of strong jujutsu sorcerers.

You. A grade 3.

“I gave you more than enough time to develop. Fuck, I even arranged you attending that cursed school!”

A rough slap that doesn’t even hurt anymore, your skin so adjusted to the sting that you felt nothing but numbness.

“Are you too dumb to understand the whole clan relies on your lousy self?”

He grabbed your hair and yanked you upwards again, forced you to stare straight into his dead eyes.

“If you aren’t capable of becoming a decent jujutsu sorcerer, you’ll have to marry one. Maybe your children will be of use.”

Your…children? Marrying someone back at jujutsu high? What a ridiculous thought, after all, you’re still way too young for something like this-

“I’ll give you three months. Three months to find a man who is a special grade jujutsu sorcerer. Three months until you have to get married.”

“But…There are only three special grade sorcerers!”, you protested out of instinct, only to get your mouth forcefully shut by another ruthless slap from your father that felt like breaking your nose.

“Seduce them. That’s the least you can do.”

Seduce them. Your gaze drifted towards Satoru and Suguru more than once, wondering if you’d ever dare to make a move on them. They greeted you so friendly, supported you as good as possible. Suguru started giving you training sessions after each and every rough day, taught you on a regular basis in order for you to become stronger.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, (y/n). Even though you’re a Zenin, you don’t have to be a special grade sorcerer”, he spoke softly while lifting you off the ground.

“Easy to say when you’re a special grade yourself…”, you muttered, careful to avoid his gentle gaze.

Suguru has always been to good for this world. Looking out for you when no one else does, supporting you through everything the best he can. Yes, Suguru Geto is the kind of husband every girl you ask for, the boy you’ve kept you’re eye on since the first time he spoke to you.

But asking him out, let alone proposing to him for the sake of your own well-being and your lousy family? You could never do that.

No, Suguru deserves way better than you. What if he thinks you only want him because of his title? What if your father digs his mighty claws into him? There’s no way in hell you’ll ever allow that.

Even if this means directing your father’s anger towards you.

“I’ve been waiting long enough, (y/n).”

His cold voice cuts through the cheerful air and interrupts even Satoru from saying another playful word. All pairs of eyes are suddenly set on you.

Those of your father included.

“Why didn’t I hear from my daughter those past weeks, huh?”

The blood in your veins freezes immediately, all color draining from your face. This is bad, very very bad. You thought you had more time, one more weeks until you’re due. Your father made it more than clear that he’s expecting a husband from you the next time both of you meet.

And you have to offer nothing but yourself.

“I didn’t make it”, you finally mutter.

“You disappoint me all over again. You’ve had one job, (y/n). Only one job.”

He steps towards you, cold eyes glaring you straight into the ground. No, not in front of your friends, not when Suguru stands right next to you-

But before you’re even able to protest, your father grabs your uniform and yanks you towards him, your feet dangling in the air.

“You useless piece of shit”, he screams on top of his lungs while shaking your, forcing every little bit of air out of your lungs.

“Too dumb to get better than grade 3 and finding a husband who’s a special grade? Maybe I should kill you right here on the spot, huh?”

Your father’s grip on your uniform tightens, his furious eyes darkening. The world starts to blur as you gasp, struggling to breathe, but then-

“Let her go.”

The command is quiet, cold. Suguru steps forward, his face calm but his eyes blazing with a determination that makes your father pause. Suguru's hand is on your father’s arm in a flash, prying his fingers off you with a force that leaves no room for resistance.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, your father hisses, venom lacing his words.

Suguru's gaze doesn’t waver.

"If you’re so insistent on a husband for her, then you’ll have one. I’ll marry her. I’m the special grade you’re asking for."

A hush falls over the room, even Satoru, who usually has a comment for everything, is left speechless. The weight of Suguru’s words hangs heavy in the air, settling over you with a mix of relief and fear. This isn’t what you wanted for him. This isn’t what he deserves. But no word of protest escapes your lips, not when your father’s eyes still linger over you dreadfully. What a coward you are, ruining Suguru’s life to safe your own.

After what feels like forever, your father scoffs, but there’s a glimmer of approval in his gaze. Of course, he’s aware of Suguru Geto’s status, the boy who isn’t part of the big jujutsu sorcerer families but still holds breath-taking skills. A pretty good match, a promise to the future.

“Fine,” he sneers.

“But if I see her slipping, she’ll answer to me.”

With that, he storms away, leaving silence and a chill in his wake.

You don’t even dare to look at Suguru, embarrassment now swallowing you whole. This can’t be true, has to be one of your countless nightmares. Your father basically forcing Suguru to marry you while you stand next to him, doing nothing but watching? 

“Hey, are you alright?”, he questions before gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You…You don’t have to do this. I need to find another way-“

“By marrying another special grade sorcerer? You know that Satoru and I are your only options here at jujutsu high? I can allow him to hurt you.”

“I…I just need to get stronger”, you press out.

“You need to accept my help. Please, let me do this for you. I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt by your father.”

“But that means marrying me. That means marrying into that family, that you won’t be able to leave. I…I can’t ask for something like this. We can’t do this.”

You feel like throwing up any given minute, the sudden wave of emotions making you feel dizzy. What are you supposed to do? Why didn’t you try harder? There has to be a way out of this, a way to avoid ruining Suguru’s life together with yours.

But to be honest, your head is empty. There isn’t a single potential solution you didn’t think through already, no way out you didn’t try over those past weeks.

You are too weak to meet your father’s standards on your own and Suguru is the only way for this arranged marriage to involve someone decent. What if your father decides to find a husband for you?

A dry cough escapes your lips while you try to stop yourself from puking.

Is marrying Suguru really the only way?

-after the ceremony-

The evening is still, blanketed in a quiet Suguru and you can feel as the last traces of daylight fade from the sky. Soft candlelight fills the room, casting a gentle, muted glow on the walls - a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the ceremony. Despite the festivities, the muted joy, and the unspoken words from family and friends, the reality of this arrangement sits heavy in your chest, and a kind of emptiness clings to you like your skin.

Suguru stands across from you, his tall frame outlined by the flickering light. He looks so calm, so composed, as he usually does, but the gentleness in his eyes now holds something deeper, something unreadable. He’s here, bound to you, tied to the Zenin family and all of its darkness and expectations, and it’s a thought that makes your stomach twist with guilt.

You can barely look at him as he steps closer, and the silence stretches, each heartbeat a drumbeat of regret echoing in your mind. How you could let things get this far, why did your weakness led you to this night where Suguru is forced to bear a burden that should have never been his? And all of this while he looks so handsome in that dark blue suit.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you finally murmur, your voice small, almost inaudible.

The words tremble out of you as a flood of emotions swells within, too much to keep contained. Your voice breaks as you continue.

“Suguru, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t want this for you.”

“(Y/n),” he says softly, reaching out to you, his hand hovering just above your shoulder as if asking permission to comfort you.

You close your eyes, ashamed, willing yourself not to break down, not to let him see just how torn apart you feel. But his hand gently settles on your shoulder, and it’s enough to dissolve whatever flimsy resolve you had left.

A sob escapes before you can stop it, and the weight of everything, your father, the impossible expectations, the years of feeling like not being good enough and now this forced bond, comes crashing down. Your knees start to give way, and you sink to the floor, unable to hold it in anymore.

“I never wanted this for you,” you whisper between shallow breaths, looking down as you feel tears streak down your face.

“You deserve…you deserve someone better, someone who doesn’t drag you into this horrible family, into this endless cycle of cruelty and control. I should have stopped you, I should have trained harder, should have been…better…”

Suguru kneels beside you, one hand gently resting on your back as the other moves to tilt your face up to his. His touch is tender, his gaze unwavering, and he watches you as if you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“I chose this,” he says firmly, his voice steady, a calm assurance anchoring every word.

“(Y/n), you have to understand that I’m here because I want to be here. I’m not doing this because of your father, or even for him. I did this because I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering any longer. Because I… I’ve wanted to be by your side for a long time.”

The intensity of his words shakes you into a completely different direction. You blink hasty against the coat of tears in your eyes, stunned as his confession begins to sink in. Him…wanting to be by your side for a long time?

“I’ve loved you for years, (y/n),” he continues, his voice softer now, but still steady.

“I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was the way you never gave up, even when everyone seemed to be against you, or maybe it was the way you always cared about others, even if they couldn’t see it. You have this strength that you don’t even realize. And I fell in love with that strength, with your kindness, your resilience. I fell in love with you.”

Suguru’s words hang in the air, filling the quiet with an overwhelming warmth. Your mind races, trying to comprehend what he’s saying, how he could feel that way, how he could possibly think of you with such admiration. Is it a cruel joke, a nightmare, maybe? How could a man like Suguru Geto ever love someone like you? You can’t meet his gaze, your heart pounding, his confession echoing in your mind.

“You…you’re saying that you…”

The words falter, disbelief woven through them. You’ll never be good enough for a man like him. You, the lousiest member of the Zenin clan, a grade 3 sorcerer while he’s a special grade. Him who is popular wherever he goes, who has countless girls secretly keeping up with his tracks while you always lived in the shadows back at jujutsu high.

He…he loves you?

“Yes,” he whispers, his thumb gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“I’ve dreamed of being with you, (y/n). I wished for a future together, one where we could be together without any of this mess, without your father’s interference, without any expectations from anyone but ourselves. I wanted us to grow into that future slowly, to experience life together on our own terms. But maybe fate had something else in mind.”

His words are steady, but there’s a hint of sorrow in them, an echo of the hope for something simpler, something kinder. You can see that he had imagined a different path for the two of you, one free of constraints and family legacies, a journey that would’ve let him show you his love in its purest form.

“But Suguru,” you begin, choking back the tears.

“This family, my family, will try to use you. They’ll see your strength and skill as a means to control, a way to fulfill their ambitions. They’ll tie you to this name, weigh you down with the same expectations they forced on me. The only reason for our marriage is the fact that they expect my future children to fill the void my uselessness left.”

Suguru’s gaze hardens slightly, a flicker of defiance breaking through his usual calm.

“Let them try. I’m not afraid of the Zenin family. I don’t want you to worry about that. And if they think they can manipulate me, they’re wrong.”

His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together with a gentle squeeze.

“I am here because I want to be here. Not because I owe them anything, or because I’m part of their plan, let alone because I pity you. And no matter what they say or do, my loyalty is to you, and you alone.”

A wave of emotion surges up in your chest again, but this time it’s not guilt or shame. It’s relief, gratitude, and a kind of hesitant joy that Suguru’s love is real, not just something forced by circumstance. You gaze down at your entwined hands, gaping at the warmth of his skin, the reassurance in his touch and a new sense of calm fills the room.

“Can you forgive me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“For dragging you into this mess, for… everything?”

Suguru’s hand lifts to cup your face, his fingers tracing your jaw with a softness you never experienced before.

“There’s nothing to forgive. If anything, you gave me a way to protect you, a chance to stand beside you. I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Slowly, he leans forward, his forehead resting gently against yours, and you close your eyes, feeling the weight of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing matching your own. The world outside slowly but surely fades away, leaving only the two of you, together in this fragile, newfound peace.

“(Y/n),” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let’s make this ours. This life, this future… we can shape it however we want. Let’s find happiness on our terms, not theirs.”

Tears spill over again, but this time, they’re different - softer, lighter, filled with joy instead of dread. It’s as if Suguru’s words have lifted something from you, a burden that you’d carried for too long. For the first time, you allow yourself to imagine a future without fear, a future where you and Suguru can build something beautiful together.

You nod slowly, still overwhelmed, but there’s a quiet strength blooming inside you, the beginnings of hope.

“I’d like that,” you whisper.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Suguru’s arms wrap around you ever so gently, pulling you close, his embrace steady and unwavering. You allow yourself to relax against him, finally surrendering to the comfort he offers, allowing yourself to feel safe in his arms. Oh, it feels so much better than it did those countless times in you imagination. Not even in your dreams, you allowed yourself the dangerous thought of being by his side. And now? Now this man is your husband, not because he has to, but because he wanted to.

Minutes pass, the silence comfortable, his fingers gently running through your hair as he holds you. Finally, you pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, and you can’t help but notice the faint smile on his lips - a smile that seems to hold promises, a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

“We’ll take this one step at a time,” he says. We’ll face whatever comes our way together. I don’t care what your father or the Zenin clan throws at us. They don’t define us.”

You nod, a faint smile breaking through the lingering sadness.

“I think I’m starting to believe that too…Maybe.”

Suguru’s smile widens, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls back.

“We’ll make it work,” he assures you, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

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[chewnotchoke]

only us who knows - leehan

synopsis: you havent seen your boyfriend, leehan, in a while so you decided to surprise him in his fansign and he tries his best not to be obvious infront of everyone else

got inspired from this leehan vid

warnings: secret relationship, fluff, idol!leehan x non-idol!reader

wc: 781

more under the cut!

video calls and late-night messages were never quite enough. nothing could ever be as great as having your boyfriend beside you; it’s been two months since you last saw each other. your heart has been torn between the joy of his success and the loneliness of his absence over the months apart, and the pain has been constant. despite all, your love remained the same.

but tonight, you are now standing in line for their fan sign in japan. you had to fly over for a few hours just to see him again, and leehan knows nothing about it. you’re standing there like everyone else, your hands sweaty, your heart racing, even though you've touched his hand a hundred times. seeing him welcome each fan with that bright smile you know so well makes it feel unreal, like a strange combination of tension and excitement. if feels weird to be here, publicly supporting him like everyone else, even though you've been keeping your relationship with him a secret.

with each step, the line moves closer, and your heart beats more loudly. in the hopes that he won't notice you until the last minute, you keep your head down. you can already imagine his reaction: his breathless laughter, his wide-eyed shock, and his usual way of reaching for your hand, as though he finds it hard to believe you're real.

taesan was seated first, followed by sungho, jaehyun, riwoo, leehan, and then woonhak. right before it was your turn to interact with jaehyun, leehan’s eyes found yours across the room, and his face broke into the most genuine, unguarded smile, the kind he usually saves just for you. you could tell that he could not contain his excitement anymore and he started finding it hard to focus on the fan in front of him. he tried to contain it, molding his features into a more controlled smile, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the barely-contained excitement. leehan can’t hide it from you, not even if he tried.

and then, it’s your turn.

leehan’s face breaks into a more radiant smile, and he practically bounces in his chair. you furrow your eyebrows worriedly and your eyes try to tell him not to be so obvious. he clears his throat and says in his usual fan sign tone, “thank you for coming to see me.” but, his voice has a warmth and tenderness meant for you, and his eyes tell a different story, hinting at all the words he can’t say here. the two of you softly chuckles. he squeezes your hand, his thumb grazing your fingers in a way that, after all this time away, feels both exhilarating and natural. “i couldn’t wait any longer.” you said.

he kept squeezing your hand gently, as if to say “i’ve missed you, too.”

but he breathes, almost like a whisper, “i missed you.” and you become wary of your surroundings, worried someone must have heard him because leehan was not bothered to be worrying about anyone hearing what he just said. because to be honest, he will scream how much he misses you in front of everyone else if he could. he then slides his other hand under the table, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.

his eyes hold yours, and then his look fell into every feature you have on your face, glistening with that comforting warmth, and you know he’s struggling to hold back. “can’t i just stand there and hug you? i don’t think holding hands is enough.”

his eyes lingered on your lips.

one thing about leehan when he’s restrained from doing something he wants, he becomes insufferable. “careful, a lot of people are watching.” you whisper, trying to remind him of where you both are. he tries to regain his composure but can’t help but lean in a little closer than necessary. he laughs softly and shakes his head, his eyes dancing with mischief. "you make it hard for me to be professional."

right when the staff asks you it’s almost time to move, leehan’s touch which was once so subtle now felt like he didn’t want to let go. the warmth in his eyes is becoming unmistakable and the fans are starting to notice. before you’re ushered to move along, he scribbles something on one of the pages in the album. even as you walk away, you feel his gaze following you and then he mouths something only you could understand and feel.

“i love you.”

after you are done with the fan sign, you flip through the pages of the album and see his writing: let’s meet at our hotel later. it’s my turn to surprise you.



[poultry-wants-to-write]

I’ve been lurking in the whump community (?) for a little while and I think everyone is pretty familiar with the idea of a living weapon whumpee.

But what I haven’t seen anyone talk about is a living weapon whumper?

This may not be a revolutionary concept, but I made an OC before I knew what whump was. I realized that he and my other OC fell into the typical whumper/whumpee roles, and he was always whumper. But I also realized that the whole living weapon trope totally applies to him as well.

So what about a living weapon whumper? Someone who’s been in conditioning since childhood and knows no other life than obeying their handler’s every command? Someone who doesn’t feel, because weapons don’t feel. Who has only ever known violence. Who has never had any sort of autonomy. What sort of monster does that turn them into?

I think it makes for a pretty interesting whumper. Thoughts?