#because you end up trying to be there for everyone and be into what everyone else loves

[chiscaralight]

nsfw kinich x fem reader. i love him, i miss him, choking, repaying favors iykyk

i’m so sorry but you know the part at the end of the last scions of the copy tribal quest where kinich says:

'promise me, if you need anything in the future you’ll come to me.’

so on a particularly tough night where your fingers aren’t doing enough, and humping your folded pillows insnt helping, you find yourself stumbling towards his home in the dead of the night. he swings the door open when he realizes it’s you, questioning why you’re here at such a weird hour.

“you said if i need anything i could come to you..”

“yeah, i did. what do you need?”

kinich is very precise with his work. it's something he's well known for, but you weren't too familiar with. but now, with his fingers expertly plunging in and out of your cunt as you struggle to keep your legs up, you understand what everyone means now. his face is inches from yours, breath fanning over your face as he studies your pleasured expression. your back is arching off the smooth wood of the door that he had you pressed against mere moments ago after you smashed your lips against his in the doorway.

his tongue is hot against your neck. you're desperately gripping at the wrist that's assaulting your sopping hole, weakly attempting to push it away from the sheer pleasure that's blooming throughout your lower half. you're whining, cries of his name dripping out of your lips as your thighs start to clamp down around your hand. and he's trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants because you came to him for help this time. you'd done a great deal for him, and it would be unfair to take something from you again so soon. but those eyes of yours, they're pleading, begging for him to just fill you up, as much as that perfect body of yours could take.

and he was right to trust his instincts because your cunt is sucking him in so well. his fingers are tight against your throat, pressing down as his free hand moves to wrap around your waist. he has perfect leverage like this, pulling your back against his chest as he fucks into you sharp and hard. your hands are gripping at nothing, the feeling of his cock combined with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain sending you into a sweet spiral. you can't even feel the words leave your mouth, soft whines and pleas surging into his ears as you mindlessly beg.

"i-inside, kinich. please, please-"

it's the least he could do, after everything you've done for him. he's also trying to convince himself that he's doing this for you, not because he's been thinking about pumping you full of his cum. sure, he'd finish his commissions early so he could drag mualani to come and hang out with the two of you, or purposefully rile up ajaw so he'd have a reason to put him in time out, giving him enough privacy to pump his length to the thought of you. but no, this was entirely about what he was willing to give back to you. so he'd free up your neck, letting your body softly drop to the bed, before securing your hips with both of his hands before ruining you. you're fisting the sheets, squealing hard as the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, his thrusts are messy and uncalculated, warmth painting your walls as his orgasm waves through the two of you. he's still smacking into you with such fervor, that you can't hold back your own climax, releasing around his still-hard length with a yell.

and he's obsessed with the white ring that's starting to form around the base of his cock from your orgasm. your pretty hole is still fluttering around him as he continues to move. he stills for just a second, then mutters an apology. he knows he's supposed to be assisting you here, but he just can’t help himself. he's going to have to take one more orgasm from you tonight, but he’ll make sure to give you one right back.

[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she���d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[merchen-aeravellae]

A Yandere Through Time

Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession

No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.

Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved

Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.

Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.

Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.

Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.

Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.

Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.

Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.

Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.

Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.

Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.

Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.

Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.

Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.

Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.

Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.

Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.

Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?

Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.

Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.

Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.

Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.

Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.

Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.

Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.

Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.

Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.

Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."

[eyesxxyou]

Bit weird, but Logan with a pain kink and trying to quit smoking because pretty you asked. You find him smoking one and next thing you know, you're on top of burning hearts into his skin with the cigar.

❝ cigar burns ❞ l. howlett

↳ warning. mentions of oral (m. receiving), smoking, reader puts out cigar on logan, pain kink

You caught Logan smoking after he promised he wouldn't. To be fair, you hadn't had much confidence that he’d actually agree to give up his cigars. You had asked while licking his cock and fondling his balls and in a moment of weakness and, admittedly, horniness, he had agreed.

Logan usually wasn't one to make promises he couldn't keep. He knows himself, maybe more than he’d like, and he knows that he loves smoking his cigars too much to ever give it up by his own free will. He never thought the day would come where he'd set down a cigar for good and never pick it up again.

And then you came along, with your pretty eyes and pouty lips and your severe adversity to smoking. And everyone knew Logan was an absolute sucker for you, would do anything you said like a dutiful dog. So when you asked him to stop smoking all while giving him the best head of his life, what could he do but agree while cumming in your mouth?

Catching him with a cigar between his teeth while he changed out the brakes on your car, you snatched it from his lips before he could even have a moment to react. You weren't angry, not even disappointed. A part of you knew he had been smoking while you weren't around, you could smell it on him when you came home and hugged him. But you chose to be blissfully unaware for the sake of keeping the peace.

“Listen, doll-” He wanted to explain himself but you simply sat in his lap without a word and pressed the lit end of his cigar into his shoulder. “No– you listen to me, Howlett.”

Logan flinched, his brows furrowing, eyes flickering at the stinging pain of his sizzling flesh. “I told you to stop smoking, and you said you would.” You released the cigar from his skin and watched the wound close up right before your eyes. Logan looked at you, eyes glazed over and heavy. He squirmed under you, grunting as you jabbed him with the cigar again, this time on the side of his throat.

He went slack jawed, holding back a groan. You never knew he liked pain so much, the sick bastard. You traced a heart with the end of the cigar into his flesh and watched it heal slowly.

“I catch you smoking again, I’m putting this out on your dick.” You gave it a good twist into his shoulder to make sure it was out before flicking it to the side and placing a gentle kiss to Logan’s lips, wet and tender.

You left Logan there, with a cock so hard he thought he might go unconscious with all the blood rushing to it.

Maybe he'd have to get caught smoking some more.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Starved | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.9K

Max x gf!reader

Summery: Max is touch starved and your love language is physical touch.

Warning: Jos and Christain horner, ilusion to a tough childhood

AN: I just saw a ticktok and I had to write this.

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max never knew how good physical touch is as a love language, he didn't grow up with hugs and gentle touches, none of his past girlfriends were overly touchy with him. That all changed when you came into his life. You grew up smothered in love and affection, and it's how you function, how you show your love. 

Max remembers the moment he realised you're not like his other girlfriends in that aspect.

It was after your first date, and you were having a walk around, neither of you wanting the night to end. Max was telling you a story about something that happened that week, your hands brushing, and he kept thinking if he should take your hand or not. You didn't leave him with a choice.

“-and he ran straight at me, bit I saw him-” Max stops talking when he feels your hand move around his and you lace your fingers through his, he looks at you, and you just smile up at him, leaning closer to his side. Max couldn't help but smile just as bright as yours. “So I dodged and he still bled and fell down, everyone was…”

He kept on talking, you were listening attentively, adding things when needed, and squeezing his hand when you wanted him to look at you. 

Max felt like holding hands with you is the best thing ever. 

But boy was he wrong, because every new tech became his favourite. 

Max never knew he was the cuddling type, until you wrapped yourself around him.

“Oh god.” You whined as Max flipped himself onto the bed beside you, the room filled with your heavy breathing. “That was…”

“Amazing.” Max finishes for you, he turns his head to look at you, even the Formula 1 driver is out of breath but he's smiling nonetheless. You grin at him and turn around placing your head on his shoulder and your arm on his stomach. Max freezes for a second, you press your lips to his skin in a few pecks, making him relax instantly. Max moves you a bit so you're closer with his arms around you. You're both naked with your kin touching his everywhere. You can hear his heart beating fast in his chest and try to not show him your smile. You know why he is the way he is. Without him having to tell you, you picked up on his reactions whenever you touch him affectionately. 

“You don't want to shower, or get dressed?” Max asked you after a moment of silence.

“In a bit, I just want to hold you for a few minutes.” You mumble feeling overly relaxed. Max kisses the top of your head, and lets you hold him while he holds you as long as you want.

Max always thought it's his job as the man in the relationship to have his hand on you in public, show his dominance and all that nonsense. And as much as he just likes having his hands on you, he loves you having your hands all over him. Makes him feel wanted, loved and needed. 

Max is driving you both to a new restaurant that you wanted to try. One hand on the wheel the other on the gear stick. You were looking out the window when you suddenly got the feeling that you want Max closer, want to touch him. So you just move your hand to his thigh.

“Schatje.” Max says and you hum, turning to look at him. “What are you doing?” 

“Just suddenly wanted to be closer to you.” You tell him with a smile.

“I'm right here.” Max glances at you.

“Not close enough.” You say and stay silent for a moment. “Do you not like it?”

You start to move your hand when he stops you with the hand on the gear stick. “I didn't say that, you can touch me whenever you want.”

There are many pictures of you and Max in the paddock or out and about, but more in the paddock. They're all of you lacing your hands with Max, hugging his arms, someone commented once how you're always the first to touch Max, but he never lets go of you. So, to those that tried to hate on you and call you clingy, could never really find anything to hate you for. It’s clear that you’re the instigator but Max’s smile is always undeniable.

“Max, what do you love most about y/n?” Max was signing hats on his way into the paddock, when a fan suddenly asked.

“Her hugs.” The crowd all awed, Max didn’t even realise what he said, it just came out naturally, he loves everything about you, but if there’s one thing that he misses the most and looks forward to when he’s away, it’s your hugs. They feel like home, as cheesy as that may seem.

And hugging you do. You take every chance to pull Max in for hugs.

You’d be eating with the other WAGs or maybe Victoria, and Max would be walking through the paddock and seeing you, he’d walk up to you, and you’d stop everything and give the man a hug as if you didn’t see each other yet that day.

“How’s your day so far?” You ask him, still in his arms.

“Good, how’s yours?”

“Good.” You’d be the first to let go, knowing that if you don’t he’ll never let you go. As much as you want to stay in his arms, he had work to do.

Max would be away on a triple header out of Europe, and you wouldn’t be able to join him for the first race, but no one is surprised when Air Max flies back to Europe and then to the race destination and there’s pictures of you exiting. Max will be damned before he sees you flying in anything but his plane, only the best for you.

You’d get there later than expected, so Max is already on track. His team meets you to give you your passes and get you in. They lead you to where Max is, he’s having a moment break before he has to go to a Red Bull club event thingy in the Red Bull hospitality. Max is on his phone with a Red Bull in his other hand, he looks up when he hears you walk in, he doesn’t see his smiling team behind you, once you’re here everything else ceases to exist.

Max just folds himself around you, he never cares who’s around. Your hand runs up and down his back. Your head in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in. 

“Hey, my love.” You greet him and kiss his neck softly.

“I missed you schatje.” Max responds to your words and you smile.

“Missed you too, like crazy.” You stand there for a few minutes, everyone knows to just let you have your moments, a much calmer Max is always there thanks to your presence.

There’s a hug that all the fans remember, it went down in the history book for being loving and sad at the same time.

Max has been having a bad time this season, struggling with the car, and not winning, even though he’s leading the points, it’s a very close call. And after 2021 he never hoped to go through such a tough battle again.

Alas here he is, doing the best he could with what he has. Max and Jos have been butting heads lately, mainly because Jos thinks that Max should leave Red Bull and go to Mercedes, while Max wants to stay with Red Bull. The dynamic between the two has always had its highs and lows, and they’re going through a tough low now. So, when Max finally won a race and thus winning the championship, after struggling the majority of the season, and he saw his dad standing in the crowd he was happy. But Jos being the a-hole he is, he wasn’t happy. He didn’t want this race to give Max hope for any future with the team.

Max noticed the look on his father’s face when he was just about to go and hug him, he knew that look, he knew what it meant. And it upsets Max to see it when he’s just won and should be celebrating.

“MAX!” You shout and gain his attention, you’re behind the barrier. Everyone in the team knew what was going on between Max and Jos, and they knew how much having your support no matter what meant for him. So they did not hesitate to raise you over the barrier, you squeal in surprise. The moment your feet touch the ground, Max’s arms are around you, his helmet still on and everything. It’s a much needed hug, it wasn’t you who wrapped your arms around him, it wasn't you that instigated this, this was all Max, he needed this. He’s clutching you, having you flush against him, letting himself feel your presence.

Once he has his arms around you, he's clutching you, holding you close. Your arms wrap tightly around him, the force of the hug, has you staggering slightly back, Max's legs move with yours, until you're stable. 

“Congratulations, my love.” You say, and Max can barely hear you over the noise surrounding the both of you. “I'm so proud of you Max, so incredibly and completely proud of you.”

Max holds you tighter and if it becomes painful he doesn't say. The hug seems to last forever, and everyone just lets you have this moment. You're barely visible from Max's back. Your hand moves over his back slightly trying to give him all the love and comfort he needed. 

“I love you.” The words come out choked up, but you hear them and it breaks you. You force yourself out of his arms and meet his eyes through the slightly opened visor. His eyes are slightly wet. Max doesn't cry, his life was too tough for him to find a reason big enough to cry.

“I love you too Max, more than anything, more than anyone.” You tell him earnestly and full heartedly. 

“Fucking hell, I'll marry you one day.” Max says and his eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles. 

“Well go get your trophy first before we see about the whole marriage thing.” You patt him and Max then goes to his team, they're all shouting and cheering for him.

“You're good for him.” You look to see Christian now standing next to you.

“He's good for me.” You reply and watch your boyfriend with loving eyes.

“I have a feeling that by next season you'll have a ring on your finger.” Christsin whispers in your ear, and he slinks away, you can't help the smile on your face.

You watch as the top 3 do their interviews, Max's face is flushed red, hair messy, and his eyes are a bit misty. Your eyes well up seeing him, Max catches your eyes as he's finishing his interview, the smile on his face widens, he’s looking to the side when the interview ends. And Max races back towards you, your eyes go wide, not expecting him to come back to you. Max pulls you closer and crashes his lips against yours, before you could even place your hands on him, he pulls away, smiles and runs off to the cool down room.

“I take it back, give it a couple of weeks.” Christian amused says, the cameras flashing around you catch your insanely blushing face.

Christian was right, because arriving at the last race of the season, there’s a big rock on your finger.

Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat .

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mignon & Pollito

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

@wileys-russo's Pollito x Teen!Reader

Summary: You and your partner in crime

Whether it was the gods smiling down on you or just an extreme miscalculation on the staff's part, you and Pollito end up sharing a room.

This training camp was only a week long so it must be fairly expensive to move you all from Barcelona to here but, you're not the higher-ups at the club so you don't get much of a say.

"I'm bored," Pollito declares and you roll your eyes.

"Would you prefer sleeping on the bottom bunk?" You ask dryly," I heard that's more interesting."

Pollito's head appears above you, poking over the edge of the top bunk that she had wrestled you onto the ground to get to first.

"Don't be silly!" She says, a smug grin on her face," I'm doing you a service! I'm letting you stay away from the top bunk boredom."

"I'm sure I can deal with it."

"Yeah, but you Frenchies always change your minds."

"I'm trying not to be offended here."

Pollito's grin only widens and her fingers appear to jab you in the forehead.

"I'm still bored."

"I've got UNO."

"UNO's shit."

"Unless you're playing Jana. I made twenty euros off her in one round."

"Oh, shit, you're right. Let's go and find Jana."

"We're banned," You remind her," After that time that we rigged the game."

"Oh, yeah."

The bed above you creaks as Pollito throws her back against in annoyance.

"Is there really nothing we're allowed to do?"

"Irene said that we can get lunch. We just have to tell the others that we're doing that."

"But they'll make us eat healthy."

"Yeah."

Silence for a moment and then...

"I'm bored!"

You jab your feet up into the mattress on top of you and Pollito yelps.

"What do you want me to do about that? Play you to sleep?"

"You'd play me to sleep?" Pollito scoffs," What does that mean? Kicking a ball at my head?"

"I meant with my flute, dimwit."

There's silence again

"You can play the flute. Since when?"

"Since always? This isn't new information."

"It is to me!"

Pollito peaks back over your bed, a wide grin spreading over her face. "I think I have an idea."

It's Irene who hears it first.

It starts off quiet, barely audible over the phone call with her wife and son. But it's still audible and she frowns.

"Are you playing music?" She asks and her wife shakes her head.

"It must be coming from your end."

Irene pokes her head out of her hotel room, spotting a few of the others doing the same.

"Who's playing that music?!" Alexia complains, looking like she's been woken up from a very good nap if her messy hair is anything to go by.

"I thought it was Pina."

"Me?" Pina scoffs," I don't like classical music."

"It's hardly classical music," Keira says," It's the song from the Muppets. You know that one that goes 'do doo be-do-do, mahna mahna, do do-do do'-"

Everyone to turns to look at her, similar looks of judgement as Keira peters off, face crimson.

"Or, you know, I think that's what it is."

"Either way," Alexia brushes her off," Who is making that noise?"

What started off as soft flute music suddenly gets louder and louder until it's booming across the whole floor and Alexia's grip tightens on her door frame.

Her eyes dart to the room at the end of the corridor and she does a quick count in her head.

Everyone and their roommates are hanging out of their doors, heads poking out to see what all the noise is.

Everyone except two people.

Her teeth grind together.

"Who let Pollito and Mignon in the same room together? Who let them room together with no supervision?"

Usually, Alexia would be the one sorting out all of the rooms but she'd left it to the staff this time because she'd gotten distracted on the bus when Pollito had hidden you up in the luggage rack and you'd taken it upon yourself to drip water onto Mapi's head from your hiding spot.

"Er...They might still be in there?" Pina offers up but everyone else knows that it's a pipe dream to say something like that.

"Spread out," Alexia snaps," And find them." She massages her temples. "They take years off my life."

The longer they take, the louder the music gets until it rings in their ears with every step.

There's thumping at the door and you jolt, your flute music wavering as Pollito pops her head up to look through the window.

"It's Ingrid and Frido! Pretend we're not here!"

You both hide under the window where they can't see you.

The change in position makes your playing a bit unstable for a moment as you adjust, fingers cramping from the past forty-five minutes of nonstop repetition.

"I know you're in there!" Frido bangs on the door," This is the room with the sound system. Come out!"

"You'll never take us alive!" Pollito yells back and you want to hit her for being stupid.

"Shut up! You've blown our cover."

A hand reaches through the window and you instantly want to murder the idiot who thought windows should be able to be opened from the outside because Ingrid's hand immediately grabs onto your flute.

You yelp, finally stopping your playing as you try to wrestle it back.

"Hey! No! That's mine!"

"Give it over," Ingrid says," And we'll tell Alexia that you both cooperated."

You pop your head over the window. "Give us a moment to discuss."

"We can't just give in," Pollito says to you in a hushed whisper.

"Well when our other option is to run the laps Alexia will make us do if she finds out we fought them..."

"You make a good point but...No, you do make a good point." Pollito sigh," Fine. Let's give in."

You clap her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We may have lost the battle but we haven't lost the war."

Frido sighs from the other side of the door, hitting her head repeatedly against the wall.

"You're both so dramatic."

[piastrisun]

the perfect gift.

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader.

summary: the tradition of the secret santa in mclaren never ends, much less now that lando got your name on it.

genre: fluff.

word count: 1k.

warning: none.

notes: no use of y/n or any names at all.

as someone who notices every little detail and always stays on top of things, you can’t help but pick up on the small comments your colleagues make. if someone mentions they like something, it becomes second nature for you to remember it. and the moment you come across that item, you instinctively get it for them without a second thought. it’s not even about the object itself; it’s just who you are, attentive and thoughtful. the drivers are no exception. if oscar casually mentions he likes something as simple as a keyring, you make sure to have one ready for him at the first opportunity. and when it comes to lando, well, it's a little different. not that you play favorites, of course, but there's just something about him. you find yourself wanting to give him more—small, thoughtful gifts that hold meaning, not just because of what they are, but because it feels like you're speaking a language only he can understand.

luckily for you, lando is the same way. he’s always been so attentive to his colleagues and the whole mclaren team, making sure everyone feels seen and appreciated. and now, with christmas just around the corner, festive decorations sparkling in every room, the smell of pine filling the air, and the buzz of the secret santa exchange spreading excitement through the halls, something different stirs. fate, with its playful timing, has placed your name in lando’s hands. and though most of your interactions have remained professional, you somehow have this strange power over him, lighting up his day with just a smile or a laugh. he can’t stop thinking about you.

determined to make this gift special, lando has spent weeks quietly gathering hints, listening closely to every comment you’ve made, every subtle suggestion. it’s almost like he’s reverse engineering your tastes, wanting to find something that reflects how much he cares. and finally, after all the planning, he finds it, the perfect gift. it’s not just a present; it’s something that speaks to your interests, something that carries meaning far beyond its surface.

on the day of the exchange, your heart is fluttering with excitement, but there’s also a familiar nervousness creeping in as everyone gathers around the festive table, gifts piled high, laughter filling the air. as soon as the room grows quieter, your heart starts to beat louder, like it’s trying to escape your chest. you try focusing on the cheerful chatter around you, but every time you sneak a glance at lando, all your attempts at being calm fly out the window. he stands across the table, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and for once, his usual laid-back vibe seems to disappear. every time your eyes accidentally meet, you feel heat rush to your cheeks, forcing you to look away almost immediately. what is it about him that makes you feel like this?

it’s a quiet, unspoken game, the tension hanging between you like a string about to snap. even oscar catches on, watching the two of you from the corner of his eye, grinning to himself as if he's the only one in on the secret. it’s amusing, the way your obvious connection has become so noticeable to everyone but, somehow, not entirely to you or him.

when your turn comes, after what feels like an eternity, you try to steady your hands as you reach for the present in front of you. you know it’s from him. somehow, you just know. your hands move almost automatically, and as you tear through the paper, the room falls into a soft, curious hush. your fingers tug at the wrapping paper, and when the gift is finally revealed, you freeze. your breath hitches in your throat. it’s the book, a rare edition you’ve been searching for years. the one you never thought you'd get your hands on. and next to it, resting carefully in a little pot, is a delicate flower, your favorite. and a handwritten note with a poorly drawn smiley face: “merry christmas, i’m grateful i met you.”

your eyes shoot up, and there he is, standing still, watching your reaction closely. that familiar smile of his is softer now, almost shy, a look you rarely ever see on him. lando, always so confident, now seems unsure, almost vulnerable.

“oh my god, this is perfect, lan. thank you,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with gratitude and something else you can’t quite name. you don’t think twice; you step forward and wrap your arms around him, your cheek pressing against him. it feels so natural. his arms wrap around you too, holding you in a way that makes you feel seen. he rests his chin on your head, and you can hear his soft sigh of relief. there’s no denying it now, he has been paying attention, really paying attention to everything about you.

“i’m glad you like it,” he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that it sends shivers down your spine. “i spent ages trying to think of something that might make you happy.”

your fingers lightly brush the petals, and a warmth floods through you, a warmth you've been ignoring, maybe even avoiding, until now. you look up, and there he is, looking right at you with that shy, almost bashful smile you rarely see on him. it makes your heart flutter, seeing him this thoughtful. for a second, it feels like the whole room has melted away, the room, the laughter, the others. there’s only you and him, standing across from each other, caught in the quiet magic of the moment. you can’t help it, you smile wide, your face flushing with joy.

“wanna go out sometime?” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. the second the words leave your lips, you feel a rush of embarrassment, but at the same time, relief. it feels good to finally ask, to finally say what you’ve been holding back for so long.

lando’s eyes light up instantly, his face breaking into a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “please, i’d love to,” he nods, his voice soft, as if the question had been burning in his mind too.

before you can say anything else, oscar’s teasing voice breaks through the magic, making you jump. “thank god for that. i was getting sick of you two.” he gives lando a playful pat on the back, grinning, but nothing can wipe the smile off either of your faces now.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[nottsangel]

Imagine going to the Great hall and you're wearing this really pretty skirt that ends at your mid thighs and Theo loves seeing you in that skirt. So when you sit down next to him, he starts running his hands across your soft thighs and he whispers to you about how pretty you look and how he could just fuck you right there and you nearly choke on your food and he goes like "You would look so much better choking on my dick." Then he decides that he can't stop himself anymore so he pulls you onto his lap and buries his face into your neck so to your friends it looks like he's just being soft and sweet but he's actually pushing his dick into your pussy and telling you to be quiet because you don't want everyone in the great hall to know you're such a naughty girl, do you? And you're just sitting there on top of him, cheeks flushed red trying so very hard not to make a sound because he just fills you up so good and it's making you crave for more but you're also feeling so embarrassed because there are so many people around. And Theo's just whispering the most dirty things into your ear.

Then his hand goes down to your thighs again because he's absolutely addicted to them and he can't help but squish them between his fingers. And i'm screaming because, my god, i need this man so bad.

ARRGGHHHHHHHHHHSHSJSSJ…. !!!?!€€/&:&::

ok i’ve calmed down. god. and the more embarrassment you become, the cockier he gets, gazing down at you with a smug smirk as you look up at him with those desperate, helpless eyes. you feel so full with his thick cock buried deep inside of you, yet you crave more, subtly wiggling to create at least some friction. he instantly notices, so with a teasing grin, his hand sneakily slides down to where your bodies meet, thumb lazily rubbing circles on your aching clit, causing you to inhale sharply, nearly choking on your own saliva. he’d raise a brow in mock surprise before leaning in, feeling his lips brush against your ear as he whispers to you, his voice low and husky “what’s wrong, amore? you look so tense, my poor girl. just let me help you relax, hm?” he’d tease, knowing damn well he’s only making it harder for you as your wetness drips down your bare thighs onto his pants and you’re desperately biting down on his shoulder to keep quiet. :/

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, azriel sucks :p and unedited

word count: 1.4k

eventual Eris x OC

“Rhys! You will never believe what I managed to do with my-” I bursted into the kitchen with a warm glow, my green dress flowing around me and headed towards where he was sitting with a cup of tea.

“Wynn, I have been up with Nyx for the past three nights and days with him teething. I would love some silence. Please.” He said with a low voice and eyes closed in annoyance. 

“Oh! Right, yes. Sorry.” I wince, I twirl my finger and use the wind to brush through the mellow sounding wind chimes I have placed around the River House. 

The tension seemed to leave his body, and I placed a sisterly kiss on the top of his head, my ginger bobbed hair layering over his black hair. In doing so I managed to remove the growing headache from him and take it on for myself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Wynn.” He said softly.

“I know, but that’s what family is for Rhys.” I respond with a light touch on his shoulder and whisper words of encouragement as I leave. 

As I walked out of the River House where the sun is setting, I ran into Azriel and Cassian. I smile and my subtle pink glow brightens.

“Hello you two!” I say with a wave and notice the grimm look on their body language and my face falls and my glow dims. “What happened, who's hurt?” 

Cassian winces and Azriel gives me a sharp look, “Stay out of it Wynn. You do enough damage as is.” 

I flinch back and the wind around me goes cold, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He walks closer to me and leans over to get in my face, “It means that whatever magical experiment you tried this time back fired and hurt Elain.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper back. My mind reels trying to remember if I left a magic trial unattended in the open, but I draw a blank. Unless… 

“She snuck into my cottage?” I question brows furrowing. There was only one trial I left at my house and that was my attempt of getting my wind to play instruments on its own, but wind is finicky and if interrupted incorrectly can cause a spiral of sharp and messy wind.

“Snuck? Wynn, you let everyone into your home all the time, there was no reason to lock your doors.” Cassian responded. I go hot with anger. 

“So just because I host all the time means my house is fair game? There are wards around it for a reason when I am not home. If that is your logic here then allow me to go into your guys home whenever I feel and do what I please.” I snap back.

“You’re being unreasonable Wynn.” Azriel says while rolling his eyes. “It was just Elain. She is harmless.” 

“I do not care who it was Azriel, it is my home. What did she need from me anyway? I just saw her this morning.” I ask him and he storms by me to go inside the house. Cassian and I follow him.

“Rhysand!” Azriel yells. Rhys walks out of the kitchen looking a little better than he did before. 

“Why are we yelling?” He asks.

“Wynn has caused more damage to this court.” Azriel says and I wince back. Rhys turns to look at me with an eyebrow raised. 

I raise my hands in defense.

“Wynn, was it another silly experiment?” Rhys asks. My heart tugs and I nod, and I feel as though I should defend myself. They’re not silly, they are fun.

“Did I do something to personally offend you Azriel?” I ask softly. 

“Yes! Since you’ve shown up to this court all you have done have been attached to the hip with Feyre, surprised she hasn’t told you that you are suffocating. You’re nothing more than an annoying weed.” He spat, “You buzz in and out loudly all the time, you cannot read a room to save your life, your experiments are juvenile and lack actual use, and whenever you shrink down to your pixie form is the only time you're tolerable because we can barely hear you.” He said like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

I can only stare at him, shock and hurt cover my face. The glow of pink on my body fades down to a low humming blue, and suddenly I am back in that damn jar. 

The jar I am in is hot and stuffy. I do not remember how I got here but I do understand that this is cursed glass and I won’t be able to be let out unless the lid is opened by the one who placed the curse or is killed. 

The jar sits in the middle of a long dinner table as decor, with being alive I always have a glow to me. When I am neutral and healthy it's normally pinkish orange, right now it’s bluish purple relating to my mood and terror. It hasn’t changed in the past decade of being here.

Being small and trapped in a jar and treated as entertainment by those who are desperate to feel power again is something I would never wish upon anybody. They like to cover the oxygen holes on the top and force me to dance or create wind art. Which is borderline impossible with the lack of airflow in here anyway.

“Tell me pretty, what other colors can you turn?”

“Az-” Cassian whispered.

“Fuck you Azriel. You know why I don’t go into that size very often and you of all people should understand why.” I spit at him, and he for just a moment looks guilty. 

“What? You all say this behind her back anyway. Now that I tell her to her face it’s a problem?” He looks at his two brothers. And they both won’t look me in the eye.

“Is that true?” I choke out with silent tears running down my face. Rhys looks at me and takes a breath, “There could have been more tact to how we said this but to put it bluntly yes.”

My wispy iridescent wings pop out of my back. And I start walking backwards towards the door, “I will see myself out then.” 

“Wynn, wait please let's discuss this more maturely.” Rhys says. Azriel scoffs in the background. 

“If it wasn’t for her, Elain wouldn’t be hurt again.” I flinch again feeling sick to my stomach. 

“I am sorry.” I choke out. Cassian reaches for me and I step back curling into myself feeling betrayed by those I called family. 

“No, that was completely uncalled for.” A new voice responds. I turn around to say Nesta and Elain. I look over Elain and all I notice is a few wind burns on her arms. She gives me a soft smile and I look down with a frown.

“Azriel, what is the actual problem here? Because I am fine. I went into her cottage because I forgot my tea recipe book there and completely forgot she was running an experiment.” Elain comes up to me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I lean into her warmth. Nesta stares at him with a cold hard glare. 

“He’s jealous.” She observes. Azriel looks shocked for just a moment before he stalks closer into Nesta’s face. To which signals me and Elain to step back and Cassian to intervene. 

“Enough.” Rhys says rubbing his temples again. “Azriel you were out of line with the way you approached this situation and Wynn maybe just be a little less, you.” 

All three girls flinch with the wording. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind Rhysand?” Nesta barks. “Wait until I tell Feyre.” 

By the time the two of them are arguing I shrink down to my pixie size and fly home to my cottage. I arrive at the front stoop back to normal size, and burst into tears against my front door barely making it inside before I collapse into a pile on the floor. 

In a panic I start shoving some of my emergency belongings in a satchel; clothes, my hygiene products, and my magic trials notebook. 

Frantically rushing around my small cottage I see a teacup Elain painted for me, with little orange and pink flowers all over it. I wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my satchel.

By now the sun has completely set, and I take off my porch, my holographic wings sparkling in the moonlight and head towards some place I know will bring me some comfort. 

The Autumn Court. 

a/n: please enjoy! I have been thinking about this idea for a while! Leave comments, like, and share. if you have any questions plz let me know!

I do not own any of the characters that Sarah J Mass has created. but I do own miss Wynnie Lara :p

[nightingale-prompts]

Saving Batboy

First | Previous | Next

It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.

Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.

Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.

Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.

Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.

If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?

It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.

Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.

Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.

Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.

****

"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.

The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.

"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.

"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.

"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.

"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"

"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.

****

Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.

When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.

"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.

His son looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.

Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.

"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.

Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.

Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.

The journey back to the manor was silent until.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said.

"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.

Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.

When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.

Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.

Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.

The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.

Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.

Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.

Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?

Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.

Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.

But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.

A sneeze.

A fucking sneeze.

It came up from under the cloak.

Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.

"What happened!!" He yelped.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.

Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.

One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.

"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.

“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.

“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”

“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”

Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?

“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.

“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.

When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”

To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.

“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.

“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”

“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”

“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”

“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.

“What…?”

As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.

Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.

To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.

“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.

Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.

It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”

“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”

“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”

“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.

“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.

Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.

This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.

One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.

At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.

“Wonbin? Are you okay?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”

“Yeah, that’s what you think…”

“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.

After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”

“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”

“You don’t have the right to say that.”

“I wish I did.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.

That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.

He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.

The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.

"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.

"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.

"I know something’s bothering you…"

"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"

The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.

"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"

"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."

You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.

"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."

ᯓ★ SOHEE

There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.

In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.

Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.

You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.

You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.

"Sohee, have you been drinking?"

"Who was that guy?"

"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."

"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.

"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."

"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."

"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.

"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.

It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.

Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.

One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.

"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."

"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."

"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?

"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"

"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."

"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.

"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."

"You… what?"

Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.

"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[ashwhowrites]

Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader

I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!

Pick me, choose me, love me part 2

Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.

She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.

Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."

"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.

"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.

"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."

"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."

Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.

~

Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.

"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.

Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.

"Y/N?"

"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.

"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted

"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked

"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."

Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"

"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.

"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."

"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."

"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.

"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."

"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.

Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.

"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.

Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.

~

"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.

"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.

"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."

"Live with me," Steve shrugged

Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.

"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.

"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained

"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.

"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked

He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"

~~~

It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.

After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.

"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.

"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."

"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled

~

"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.

Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.

"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.

Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"

"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.

"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."

"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected

"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned

"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.

Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.

"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.

"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely

"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked

Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.

"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased

"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.

Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.

"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.

"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up

"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said

Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked

"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer

~

"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed

"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass

"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained

"Are you going to break up with her?"

"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"

"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.

She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve

Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.

~~~

A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.

She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.

There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it

"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer

"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.

Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.

"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway

"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged

"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.

"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over

Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear

"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.

Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.

Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,

"This okay?"

The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.

"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.

Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.

~~~

More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.

But he made it so hard

It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.

"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.

"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.

They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.

So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.

"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.

His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.

Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.

"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.

"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.

"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek

He turned his head to kiss her palm

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said

The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.

"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.

"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned

His bed was smacking the wall

His balls were smacking against her skin

Her moans were turning into screams

"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back

"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.

She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.

"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.

She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.

Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.

She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned

"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"

"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.

His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.

He looked down at her in awe

She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.

~

The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.

He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.

"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded

"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand

"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued

"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.

Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.

"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.

"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.

"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie

"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"

"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat

"Kathy and I broke up"

Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face

"What?" Y/N asked

Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.

"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."

"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped

"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."

Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.

"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words

"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks

Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears

"I love you too," she whispered

Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.

"But I'm not in love with you anymore"

Her words made both boys freeze

Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.

"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back

"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"

"I understand," Eddie choked out

Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him

"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve

"Just a bit," he shrugged

Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears

"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed

"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed

Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"

@dreamerjj @lotrefcp @daisy-munson @buckybarnessweetheart @munsongirl97 @mugloversonly @duncanhillscoffeecups

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

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Pairings: (DP3 Vers.) Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: In an attempt to finish smoothing things over between you and Logan, he suggests going out to a bar. He says it’s to help you and Logan bond- but it’s actually so he can watch Vanessa work. Wade, knowing exactly what kind of drunk you are, takes advantage of your kind hearted nature to the point that you get hammered. Poor Logan finds himself taking care of you after Wade decides to try his hand at pole dancing.

Warnings: Heavy mentions of drinking, cursing, a few insults sprinkled in, Wade pole dancing, drunk reader.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,647

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“Come on guys!” Wade whined, throwing his arms over you- interrupting the scowling match between you and Logan. “It’ll be fun!”

You had work the next morning and drinking around an alcoholic Wolverine didn’t exactly sound thrilling. It didn’t exactly help that he clearly hated you. Sure, you didn’t help with your sarcastic comments and matching his glares. Hell, your friends with Wade- how could you not rebuttal Logan whenever he snapped at you?

“I can’t, I have work early tomorrow.” You stated, trying to pry yourself out of Wade’s arms.

“Bullshit.” Wade remarked. “I’ve seen you get shit-faced then hop back up like it’s nothing the next day. You’ll be fine!”

Damn. He had gotten you there. But you were also a much more responsible drinker than Wade gave you credit for. But it came at a cost…your a light weight.

“Good! It’s decided! We’ll all go out tonight! Get your best bar hopping panties on ladies, cause we’re gettin it on.” Wade cheered.

“Wade.” You huffed out, “I ain’t flashing anyone my panties.” You finally cracked a smile, finding it hard to resist his odd sense of humor. As odd as it was, though, you always found yourself cackling.

That’s how you ended up here, in a sleazy bar, wearing a dress that, frankly, shouldn’t warrant all the eyes of shameless men on you. You let out a huff, head resting in your hands as you sipped your alcoholic beverage. Logan sat next to you at the dark oak bar. It was the spot Wade had insisted he take. The partying lights of the dance floor low as Vanessa danced on a pole. You watched as Wade basically threw the same one dollar repeatedly at her, rushing to scurry it back up before throwing it again.

The air between you and Logan, who was sipping at a glass of beer, was less than welcoming. Your eyes analyzed him, the way he looked. He seemed so tired, so defeated, yet alive. Even more so these days as he grew accustomed to life with Wade.

Despite the various martini’s and strong drinks Wade had left not-so-subtly on the bar by you, you had done a fairly decent job at pacing yourself. It wasn’t until Wade’s hand was snatching the water glass from your hand and replacing it with a martini that reeked strongly of booze that you finally guessed his game. He wanted you drunk. And he only brought you two here to see Vanessa dance. You moved to dismiss the drink.

“Wade, I don’t-“

“Drink!” Wade adamantly flashed you his puppy dog eyes, knowing full well if you were tipsy enough you’d fall for it. With a sigh, it turned out you were as you brought the martini to your lips. The more Wade handed you drinks, the more you drank. The more you drank, well, hadn’t everyone heard the story? Needless to say, it wasn’t long before you were slumped over on the bar, giggling to yourself as you looked past Logan to watch Wade try to dance on a pole. He had finesse, but you didn’t miss the way his foot failed to land.

Logan watched you, eyes filled with judgement. He couldn’t believe all it took was a few drinks. His eyes scanned the bar, scowling at anyone who looked at you. He didn’t know why he suddenly hated every man in this bar that looked your way. He told himself it was because you were clearly shit-faced, hell, it looked like you were about to fall off your fucking chair. Logan sure as hell wasn’t about to let some weak ass man who didn’t know how to talk to a woman worm their way into your skirt. Which, by the way, looked bloody amazing. He even found himself struggling not to look at you.

Your voice broke through the tense situation as he glared at any man he could see, “L-,” you hiccuped, “Logan. Why do you hate me?” Your question caught him off guard, a look of confusion passing over his face as he tilted his head. Logan’s eyes looked down at where you rested against the bar, face flushed from alcohol, head resting on your arms. Your cheek was smooshed slightly from where it rested between your arm and the bar top.

“I don’t hate you.” He huffed out, looking away as he brought the beer glass to his lips.

“You act like it.” You couldn’t help the drunk pout on your lips, eyes analyzing Logan from where you rested. His jawline, with the mangy beard that somehow looked damn good.

Logon scoffed. He couldn’t help that he didn’t like you. You were bitchy, and sarcastic, and- his thoughts were interrupted by you suddenly leaning into his side, an exhale on your lips.

“I wished I knew what I did to make you hate me so much, Logan.” You drunkenly confided to him, drawing his attention to you once more. Suddenly, he was aware of the closeness between you two. Of how easily you were to banter with, even if it was in an argument. And you were funny. Logan loved when you would call Wade out. His hand moved to rest on the back of your barstool, his hand resting next to your shoulder in case you happened to fall over.

“I don’t hate you, doll.” Logon sighed, looking down as you lifted another drink to your lips.

“I want cookies.” You stated, not paying much mind to his words. Your mind wandered too fast to truly pay much attention. Not like it could anyway, Wade made sure you were drunk. He knew how you got when you were wasted, you were honest, idiotic, and incredibly cuddly.

“They don’t have cookies.” Logan grumbled, hand moving to rub his face in irritation after it set the beer down.

“They should.” You adamantly decided, head slumping against his chest as you looked towards where Wade and Vanessa pole danced together.

Logan mumbled a rough ‘Hm’, his gaze analyzing your flushed face as you watched Wade and Vanessa. He watched you lean forward, reaching for the shot some creep had bought you. Logan reached for it, taking it from you and sliding it to the side. “Alright, that’s enough, princess.”

“What, no, hey!” You pouted with a drunk huff, reaching for the shot. However, Logan’s hand grasped your wrist after he set the shot down, pulling it away.

“Princess.” He roughly warned, hand on the back of your barstool moving to push your shoulder subtly, causing you to lean back into him.

You melted into his touch, relishing the almost body-heater warmth of him.

“Your warm.” The drunk words were out of your lips before you could really stop them.

Logan nodded with a hum, “I know.”

“I want cookies.”

“I know.”

Silence fell over the two of you. Logan didn’t want to admit it, but he felt rather content with you leaning against him- even if it was because of Wade getting you hammered. He enjoyed how it felt, having a gorgeous woman by his side. It was also nice knowing the sight of you leaning into him scared off anyone who thought about approaching you.

The moment was ruined when the song ‘Tragedy’ by The Bee Gees began playing. It seems everyone had been impacted by the release of the latest Beetlejuice movie.

“I love this song!” You drunkenly erupted, grinning as you moved to hop off the barstool, practically falling as you did so. Logan was quick to move, his hand wrapping on your arm to prevent you from falling.

“Where in hell do you think you’re going?” He growled at you, unamused.

“I’m going to dance!” You giggled, hands grasping his as you tugged him to the dance floor. Logan, despite his grumbles, let you pull him along. He didn’t need some creep coming over when you’re less than aware. When you two got to the dance floor, his hands instinctively wrapped around your waist. You were practically next to the stage that Wade and Vanessa pole danced on.

You jumped, you swayed, you did every move you knew- most of which Logan just assumed you made up on the spot. Your arms in the air, by your sides, in front of you, behind you. Logan was almost certain he watched you do the Macarena at some point. He kept a hand on your waist at all times.

“Why ain’t you dancing?” You asked, facing him with a frown, swaying slightly.

“I don’t dance.” He huffed back, unamused.

You flashed Logan your best, and visibly drunk, puppy eyes. After a moment of internal battle, his hands gently rested on your hips, swaying with you just slightly. It was the best you’d get and it’d be a lie to say you weren’t satisfied with the awkward sway. It didn’t fit the music. Not even close, but you got the Logan Howlett to dance with you!

After a moment, your arms moved to drape over his shoulders, closing any distance between the two of you as your head rested against him.

“Lo?” You mumbled softly against him. It was a new nickname, something you had never used before. He felt his heart hammer in his chest for a split second when he looked down at you.

“Yes, princess?” He asked, forcing his tone to be less rough.

“Can we get cookies later?” Your voice was muffled as you drunkenly held him tighter. His heart clenched and he found himself wishing he had cookies with him right then.

“Of course.” He murmured as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your head.

It was a lie to say he hated you. In fact, he liked the way you irritated him. He only hoped that you continued to banter with him. Lord knows he didn’t feel like he deserved it.